Every ugly deed does have its comeuppance. Lizzy got hers because the only place left for her to sit was between generic old Mitch and hotter’n the devil’s little forked tail Toby Dawson. It would serve her sister right to be as miserable as she was.
Her mother sat at one end of the table. Granny sat at the other end and on each side there was a sister between two men. If that didn’t set Granny off into a cussin’ fit or else send her back to talking about Walter nothing could.
“Nice to have a full table today.” Granny picked up the basket of hot rolls, put two on her plate, and passed them to her right. “Lizzy, why are you sitting between a preacher man and a hot cowboy? Are you trying to figure out which one you like best?” She leaned forward and whispered. “I’d take the hot cowboy. He’ll be more fun.”
It was as if someone pushed a MUTE button. One second conversation flowed, then presto, everything went quiet. The silence was every bit as deafening as it had been over at the Lucky Penny when that hussy announced that she was Blake’s wife.
Toby finally broke the awkward silence. “Did you make these biscuits, Miz Irene? They taste just like my granny’s and everyone loves hers down around Muenster.”
“Muenster…Texas or Oklahoma? Where is that place? Is that where the Amish people live? We ain’t of the Amish faith, not that there’s anything wrong with that if you are. Mitch, here, has some of that in his blood, don’t you, Mitch?” Irene said.
“No, ma’am. Not me,” Mitch said quickly. “I’m all for keeping the word of God but I do like electricity and modern plumbing.”
“Hmmm.” Irene pursed her lips. “Way you treat Lizzy, I figured you’d come from one of those strict religions. Oh, well, here you go.” She passed the green beans to Toby. “They’re real good. Katy cooks them with lots of bacon and onions.”
“Thank you,” Toby said.
Allie caught Lizzy’s sharp intake of breath when Toby passed the bowl off to her. She took out a heaping helping of beans and gave them to Mitch. And nothing happened when Mitch’s fingers deliberately covered Lizzy’s: zilch, nada, nothing at all. So the sexy cowboy did affect Lizzy. Yes, sir, paybacks were definitely a bitch.
Before the beans made it to her, Grady slipped his hand on her thigh and squeezed as he whispered, “You look lovely today. I like you all dressed up much better than in those ugly cargo pants. You should do it more often.”
Zilch. Nada. Nothing at all, other than a major irritation until she picked up his hand and put it back in his lap. “Thank you but I’m much more comfortable in my work clothes.”
“Why are you talking about britches at the Sunday dinner table?” Granny asked. “In my day, ladies wore dresses and they only put on britches to ride horses or do chores outside on the farm.”
Blake’s knee pressed against hers and his simple touch jacked her blood pressure way on up there. She felt like Abigail in her favorite LaVyrle Spencer novel, Hummingbird. The sensible choice was the man Abigail was nursing back to health in the downstairs part of her house. But the one that made her heart sing was the bad boy upstairs with a bullet hole in his body. The one who called her Abby and set her free from the strict rules of society, the one she couldn’t wait to talk to every day.
Grady called her Alora. Formal. Rigid.
Blake called her Allie. Sensible. Happy heart.
She understood the character Abby so much better that day.
“Penny for your thoughts, Allie,” Blake said.
“I’ll pay a dollar for them, Alora.” Grady grinned.
Allie glanced at Lizzy. “I might sell them to the highest bidder and use the money to buy whatever is making my sister blush.”
“I’m not blushing. It’s hot in here from all the cooking,” Lizzy stammered.
“Does Walter still live at the Lucky Penny?” Irene blurted out. “Has his mother died yet? I get confused about time and I can’t remember if he moved.”
Allie leaned forward, ignoring both men, and said, “No, Granny, Walter moved years ago. I don’t know if his mother is still living or not.”
“Probably is unless someone drove a stake through her heart. I might take a Sunday afternoon walk over there and see if Walter is still there,” she said.
“Not today, Mama. You have to stay here and chaperone the kids while I drive up to Wichita Falls for supplies. When are you moving to the ranch, Toby?” Katy asked.
“I’m hoping to be here by the first of June. With two of us and a hot summer, we should get lots done. Then our cousin, Jud, will join us about Thanksgiving time,” Toby answered.
Katy nodded. “Sounds like you’ve got things planned out pretty good.”
Irene shrugged. “Who were we talking about?”
“Blake’s brother, Toby, the one right there.” Mitch narrowed his eyes at the elderly woman. “…Is arriving in June if Blake is still living on the Lucky Penny and their cousin will join them at Thanksgiving.”
“Don’t look at me like that. We don’t like each other but this is the Sunday dinner table,” Irene said, raising her voice.
Blake reached over and laid a hand on Irene’s arm. “I hear that you took care of the three sisters right here in this house while Miz Katy worked. Tell me some stories.”
She gave Mitch a dirty look and smiled at Blake. “They were a handful for sure. When there’s three, there’s lots of whining and giggling.”
Irene’s mind stayed crystal clear as she told stories from the past. Blake’s laugher was genuine. Mitch’s lack of even a smile showed that he was bored. When they’d finished eating, Katy brought out two pies—apple and cherry—for dessert, along with a container of ice cream and caramel topping.
“Lizzy likes her apple pie with a crown.” Irene smiled. “That’s what she called it when she was a little girl and said apple pie was princess food and the ice cream was the princess’s crown.”
“Me, too.” Toby nodded. “But Blake likes cherry better. He never did like apple pie. That’s when the family knew for a fact there was something wrong with him. All cowboys love their mamas, pretty girls, and apple pie.”
“Two out of three ain’t bad, though,” Blake said.
“Not me. Too many fat grams and calories,” Mitch said. “We’ll have to watch those or we’ll be as big as circus clowns, won’t we, darlin’?”
Allie placed a well-directed kick right on his shin and immediately apologized. “Oh, excuse me. I’m so sorry.” She flashed a sarcastic smile across the table.
“I think Lizzy and I will forgo dessert and have coffee in the living room while we set up the Monopoly game.” He glared at Allie.
“Yes, darlin’.” Lizzy pushed back her chair.
He did the same and slung an arm around Lizzy’s shoulders.
Allie could see why her granny thought the man should be planted six feet under. It wasn’t a loving arm around her sister, but a possessive, controlling one.
“How about you, Allie? Shall we take our coffee to the living room with them?” Grady asked.
“Hell, no! I’m having both kinds of pie with ice cream. I’ll save you a chunk of apple for later, Lizzy,” she called out.
Lizzy gave her a weak grin as she poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Mitch before she followed her fiancé out of the kitchen.
“So what are you guys doing this afternoon?” Katy asked Blake. “I hear you tore out some ceiling and put up some new yesterday.”
“We are going to take advantage of the sunshine and look at the ranch.” He turned slightly and touched Allie on the arm. “Want to go with us?”
“I promised I’d watch Granny this afternoon, so I can’t leave.”
Irene pointed at Allie. “It’s not nice to whisper. Who is that sitting beside you anyway? Is that one of Walter’s kids? When did he get married?”
“This is Blake Dawson,” Allie said. “He lives over at the Lucky Penny now.”
“I’m confused again,” Irene said.
Blake smiled at her. “It’s
okay. We all get things mixed up some of the time.”
“You are a good boy,” she said. “I want cherry pie with ice cream and chocolate syrup on top.”
Toby was in the truck with the motor running but Blake lingered behind to talk to Allie. “I really want to explain about yesterday. Deke took a woman home and she had the car for both of them, so she came to get her sister and thought she could seduce me…”
Allie held up a palm and said, “Enough. I told you I don’t care.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means…”
“Hey, Alora, darlin’.” Grady pushed his way out the door and in between them. “We’re waiting on you. We can’t start the game without you.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” she said.
“Go on now since you don’t care,” Blake said bluntly.
“Care about what?” Grady asked.
“Nothing,” Allie answered quickly.
“Guess that sums it up then.” Blake settled his black cowboy hat on his head and marched off the porch, his boots making a cracking sound on the wood with each step.
“Is that over now?” Grady asked. “It needs to be. He’s not the man for you, darlin’, and I’m glad that you don’t care about him. Now come on inside with me and I’ll show you a proper good time.” He slung his arm around her.
She shrugged it off but not before Blake turned around. The expression on his face said that he was finished with her and that he didn’t even care if she came back to finish remodeling his house. It was over and done with and all that was left was Grady.
Sensible.
Sad heart with no song.
“Y’all are going to have to play without me,” she said around the lump in her throat. “I promised to read to Granny while she falls asleep for her Sunday nap. If she isn’t restless, I’ll check in with you later.”
Grady kissed her on the cheek. “Okay, sweetheart.”
She shivered from disgust instead of desire and wiped it away with the back of her hand as she went to the kitchen. Katy was busy clearing the table. Half of Granny’s pie was done and she had that blank look on her face that said she wasn’t sure where she was.
“Go on, Mama. I’ll do this while I wait on her to finish. You can be halfway to Wichita Falls by the time that happens and I need something to do,” Allie said.
“Have you been crying?” Katy asked.
“Not yet, but I might start when the anger dies down. Blake and I had an argument.”
Katy hung a kitchen towel on the hook. “About what? Are you going to finish the job over there?”
“I told him I didn’t care and…”
“Care about what?”
Allie put a hand on her forehead but it didn’t ease the pain throbbing in her temples. “I’m not sure. It’s complicated.”
Katy handed her the dishtowel. “You’d best uncomplicate it before Grady pushes his way into your life. I pray every night that you don’t let him talk you into a relationship.”
Allie shivered. “You’d rather have Blake than him? And yes, I am going to finish the job. Whether we are friends or not doesn’t mean I can’t work for him.”
“Honey, I’d rather have Lucifer than Grady. He’s got shifty eyes.” Katy cut her eyes toward Irene. “You’ll have to keep a close watch on her.”
“I’m going to read to her and then sit in the rocking chair in her room and reread that LaVyrle Spencer book about Abigail this afternoon,” Allie said.
Katy nodded. “And figure out what you meant by you don’t care, right?”
“I hope so, Mama.”
Granny was asleep before Allie finished reading the first page of The Velveteen Rabbit, which was her new favorite book these days. The roles had been reversed because Allie remembered Granny reading that book to her when she was a child.
When she heard the first soft snore, she put the book aside and picked up Hummingbird by LaVyrle Spencer. After reading five pages and not comprehending a single word that she’d read, she laid it aside and decided to straighten Granny’s closet.
But first she was going to call Blake and try to explain to him what she meant by she didn’t care. It wasn’t that she didn’t care for him, but that she didn’t care who Toby and Deke slept with and that Blake didn’t owe her an explanation for their actions. There, that was easy enough to put into words, now wasn’t it?
And then she was going to confront him about the way he’d introduced her to his brother. He didn’t have to say they’d slept together, but he damn sure could have done better than saying she was the woman who was remodeling the house.
She hit the right number and the call went straight to voice mail. No way was she going to talk to a damn recording about something that important. She waited two minutes and called again. Same thing.
She ended the call before the message even finished and called a third time. That time Blake answered.
“This is not a good time, Allie,” he said gruffly.
“I don’t care.”
“You say that often, don’t you?”
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t care.”
“I meant I don’t care if it’s not a good time. We need to talk, Blake.”
“This time I don’t care to hear the explanation. We need some breathing space before we talk again. That dinner was the most awkward thing I’ve ever had to endure.” The line went dead and she slung the phone on the bed.
“Dammit!” She wanted to scream, but the whisper had to do. Waking Granny always made her cranky.
She slung open the closet doors, sat down on the floor, and started arranging the piles of shoes into some kind of order. She found three bars of soap tucked down in the toes of shoes that Granny hadn’t worn in five years or more. A shoebox held a ziplock bag full of miniature chocolate bars that had long since gone white with age, two washcloths, and a can of root beer.
When she’d first started hoarding things, they’d asked the doctor about it and discovered it was a symptom of the disease. Folks got paranoid and thought people were stealing their possessions so they hid them.
Then she found the full bottle of Jack Daniel’s in one boot and a bottle of Patrón tequila in another boot. Granny must have found them in Fiona’s room because Katy didn’t drink, Lizzy was too self-righteous to even have a beer these days, and Allie damn sure hadn’t brought the bottles home.
She opened the bourbon first and took a long swig and then tried a taste of the tequila. She liked the bourbon better, but it might hurt Mr. Patrón’s feelings if she didn’t share her attention between him and Mr. Jack.
A sip of Jack for the wild cowboy.
A sip of tequila to wash the youth director out of her world.
Equal time, she thought as she twisted the cap off the Jack for another gulp.
“Bless Granny’s heart for hiding things,” she said as she leaned against the wall and got serious about the sharing process.
Chapter Twenty-two
A picture of Nadine with that apple pie in her hand snuck across Allie’s mind. She tucked her chin to her chest and glared at the tequila bottle in her left hand. How in the hell had she drunk half a bottle of that, too? Did Nadine drop by and help her?
“Well, here’s to Nadine and apple pies that Blake doesn’t like. But he likes pretty girls and his mama.” She clinked the two bottles together in a toast. “Some friend I am. Nadine has been down there working on that shitty old building for days trying to turn it into a café, and I haven’t even stopped by to check on her.”
“Who are you talkin’ to?” Granny asked as she slung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to the kitchen for more pie. Want me to bring you some?”
“No, thank you. I’ll be right behind you.”
Allie frowned as she held on to the furniture and walls and made her way to the door. Lizzy could watch Granny for the rest of the afternoon. After all, she was only playing that boring as hell game of Monopoly
. Now if she’d been up in her bedroom having wild, passionate, afterglow-producing sex with Mitch, Allie wouldn’t expect her to watch Granny. But between boring sex and boring Monopoly, Allie would probably choose the board game, too.
She giggled at the idea of bored and board being pronounced the same way. Then the laughter died and sadness set in. Poor darling Lizzy wasn’t ever going to experience the kind of sex that Allie had had with Blake. She loved her sister even if they weren’t best friends. They should fix that and Allie would make the first step. She carried the two bottles out into the foyer and yelled her sister’s name.
“My God, you are drunk. On a Sunday, no less,” Lizzy gasped when she saw her sister leaning against the wall.
“Shhhh, don’t yell. Mitch will hear. He’ll pray for me and I don’t want God to know that I’ve been drinkin’ on Sunday.” The words were slurred but at least she was standing on her own two feet.
“Mitch and Grady left a long time ago. Granny and I are about to have a slice of pie. She said you were cleaning her closet. You smell like a liquor store.” Lizzy’s pert little nose curled up. “You are drunk. You were supposed to be watching Granny, not getting drunk.”
Allie giggled. “I’m not drunk and I love you, Lizzy. Don’t marry Mitch. You won’t ever have mind-blowing sex with him or know what an afterglow is. He’s boring as a board game.” She hugged her sister. “Let’s bury the hatchet and have a drink to toast being best friends.” She held up the two bottles and clinked them together. “Which one will it be? Señor Patrón or bad, bad boy Jack?”
“Neither one.” Lizzy made a grab for the liquor. “Give me those bottles and go sleep it off in your room.”
Allie hugged them to her breast like long-lost relatives. “Hell, no! I’m going to town to have a drink with Nadine. I’m dis…dis…appointed in you, Lizzy. Nadine will be my best friend if you won’t and you ain’t going to be happy ever, not ever.”
“You can’t drive drunk,” Lizzy protested.
“I tell you, I’m not drunk, but I will be by the time I finish up my visit with these two. You take care of Granny. If she runs away, you’ll answer to Mama.” Allie picked up her purse from the foyer table and staggered out the front door. She heard Lizzy talking to her mother on the phone, but her sister could talk to Jesus, God, and Moses for all she cared. She needed a best friend and Nadine would be glad to drink a toast with her.
Wild Cowboy Ways Page 22