To Commit

by Carolyn Brown

  When the women heard the back door shut, Lucy pointed a paring knife at Stella. “Not a word from you.”

  Stella pointed back with a potato. “Then not one from you, either.”

  Lucy watched the two men out the kitchen window. Junior, tall and skinny as a rail; Rance, just as tall and built like one of those body builders with big, strong arms, and broad back.

  “Mother, you are looking at Junior’s skinny hind end!” Stella gasped.

  “So what? If you hadn’t been looking at Rance, you wouldn’t have seen me. Did you two really sleep in that room together last night?”

  “Yes, we did. As in sleep . . . put your head on the pillow and shut your eyes. Him on one pull out bed and me on the other. And I don’t want a lecture about staying here last night. It was warm here and cold at the Inn. I’m not so sure anything could ever come of our situation anyway. I want a lifetime thing and he wants a live-in mistress.”

  “So are you going to cave or is he?” Lucy said.

  “I don’t know yet. What if I do? Are you going to be awful about it? Should we talk about it?”

  Lucy thought a minute. “I think it helps to talk about it. At least for us women. Men folk are different. They go do chores, fight a battle inside themselves and when they have it all worked out so they can live with it, they just go on with life. I think we need to talk about it. How we feel. How bad it hurts. What makes us laugh.”

  “Then let’s talk. It’s at least an hour until supper time,” Stella said.

  Lauren carried two lamps into the kitchen and lit them both even though it was still semi-light outside. “Okay, you two can talk, but there’ll be no name calling and be careful with those knives. I’m going to go back up there and find more lamps. When I come back if you two are all puffed up and fighting instead of talking, I’m sending you up into those cold bedrooms to cool off.”

  “Okay, do you still think Rance is Mitch all over again?” Stella asked.

  “I was unfair,” Lucy said. “I judged him on his looks and that’s not fair. You did the same thing with Junior, you know.”

  Stella leaned against the bar separating the kitchen from the kitchen nook. “But he’s so plain and Daddy is sooo good looking.”

  Lucy browned bacon in a cast iron skillet. “So is Mitch. Guess looks ain’t everything are they?”

  “But Rance is better looking than Mitch.” Stella argued.

  “Yes, he is and twice the man. He’s a nice person and I think he likes you.” Lucy eyed Stella seriously.

  “I could like him. But how am I to know? Is it like, love or dependency?”

  “Who knows, just give it lots of time.”

  Lauren brought in two more lamps. “Is there blood or dead bodies, yet?”

  “No, they’re making nice. They haven’t let me talk yet though.” Maggie chopped fresh parsley.

  Lauren sat down in a kitchen chair. “If you’re going put your two cents in the fight, I think I’d better stay right here,”

  “I’m not that bad,” Maggie said.

  “Yes, you are. All men are reincarnates of Lucifer right now and I don’t believe it. Just because Daddy is a horse’s hind end don’t mean they’re all devils. Personally, I think Junior is a good man. Rance is a very nice as well as good lookin’ and he’s taken all us frozen orphans into his home so we won’t die of pneumonia. That puts him right up there with the angel Gabriel in my eyes, so neither one is Lucifer. Now did you have something to say, Mother?” Lauren asked.

  Maggie shook her head. “After that speech, I’d be wasting my words. Stella, please follow Mother’s advice and give this thing lots and lots of time. He’s right next door so he’s not going anywhere. Even if you decide it’s like or love and not dependency, you can take your time.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We are a bunch of philosophical old girls, today, aren’t we?” Stella said.

  “Don’t call me old!” Lucy said.

  “Or me either,” Lauren chipped in.

  “You can call me that. I feel about ninety today,” Maggie said.

  “Momma, tell me the truth. Do you think Rance will run away if I tell him I want a lifetime thing or nothing at all?” Stella asked.

  “No, I don’t. I think he’s your friend, and friendship is a foundation for something that really does last. Lust and love are good, but they’re building blocks, not foundation material. Now, let’s turn off this philosophyin’ and talk about recipes and whether or not we want to make cream pies or fruit pies for dinner tomorrow. There’ll be no pecan pies since the drought last year. How about pumpkin?”

  “Coconut cream and cherry and pumpkin. I’m hungry.” Stella declared.

  An hour later Junior and Rance came in the back door, stomping their feet and shaking the shoulders of the coveralls down toward their waists.

  “That didn’t take long,” Stella said.

  “Not with help. What is that aroma? Whatever it is I’m going to eat half of it,” Rance said.

  “Potato chowder. That and corn bread. After last night and this morning I’m so tickled to see a stove that works I could shout,” Lucy said.

  “And hot water,” Lauren actually moaned in appreciation.

  “Sleeping quarters might be cramped,” Rance said.

  “Hey, they’ll be warm. I could sleep on a concrete slab if it was warm. Thought my bones would break they shook so bad last night,” Junior said.

  “If you’d put some fat on them, they might not shake so bad,” Lauren said.

  Lucy gasped.

  Maggie blushed.

  The other three threw back their heads and roared.

  Chapter Twelve

  Stella figured she’d be asleep in minutes after she snuggled down into the blankets spread out before the fire but she was wrong. She should have been dead tired but her eyes popped open and she couldn’t force them to shut. After several attempts she finally laced her hands behind her head and watched the flames in the fireplace. Lauren and Maggie were sleeping soundly on the larger sofa bed; Lucy had the smaller one. Rance had thrown his sleeping bag a few feet back away from the heat of the fire, and Junior was snuggled down in his sleeping bag between her and Rance.

  She’d been wrong about Junior. He didn’t look so much like Ichabod Crane as he did a thinner version of Sam Elliott. He had a similar deep voice; his lips were a little thinner and his mustache not nearly as thick, but his gray hair was combed the same. And his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when they looked at Lucy. Stella was almost sure that he’d let Lucy win the Monopoly game they’d played after supper by the light of the flickering oil lamps.

  She tried shutting her eyes again to see if she could fall asleep but all she saw was Rance with his head thrown back, laughing at Lauren when she picked up the Go to Jail card. She blinked and there he was asking for a third bowl of potato chowder. Finally she gave up on sleep, and listened to Junior’s soft snores, her mother’s loud ones, Maggie’s barely audible mumbling and Lauren’s sighs.

  She strained her ears for something from Rance; a snore, soft breathing, anything, but there was nothing. She felt movement before she saw it. A dark shadow behind the sofa moved quietly from the den to the dining room and into the kitchen. Then she heard the scratch of a match as it was struck on the side of the box. Saw the soft glimmer of light from a kerosene lamp. Heard the rustle of fabric as he pulled on a pair of coveralls kept on a hook by the back door and a thump as he shoved his foot into a work boot and a click as he gently shut the back door.

  She quietly threw back her blanket and looked out the back window. He was on his way to the horse stables. Now why on earth was he out there in the middle of the night? There was only one way to find out. She moved slowly retracing his steps by the light of a full moon flowing through the window, around the sofa and the small kitchen table, across the floor and into the mud room where the second set of coveralls hung on a hook beside the back door. When she opened the back door, a cold blast of wind chilled her bare feet. Fumbling a
round amongst the work boots lined up next to the wall, she found a pair, but shoving her feet down into them was like putting a golf ball into a basketball hoop. She’d inherited Granny Molly’s height: almost six feet. But her maternal grandmother’s feet: size six. Tall women should wear at least a ten according to the clerks at the shoe stores.

  She opened the door at the end of the horse stables.

  “Who’s there?” He called out.

  “It’s me,” she answered.

  He stuck his head out of an empty stable near the door. “Oh, I didn’t know which me it was. What are you doing out here?”

  “I could ask the same question of you. Is there a bag of toys hiding in the hay and you’re going to don a red suit and mysteriously float down the chimney? I came to tell you not to do that. You’ll burn your tush.”

  He smiled. “I came out because I’ve got a mare about to foal. It’s out of season. Colts shouldn’t be born in the middle of the winter, much less in the middle of an ice storm. She wasn’t eating too well this evening and I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

  “Okay, then I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Don’t go. Come on in and we’ll talk,”

  She stepped into the empty stall. Several bales of hay were arranged two high across the narrow end. Tack hung on nails down one long side. Horse blankets were draped across bars down the length of the other side. The lamp sat on a bale of hay under the tack.

  “Nice office but no view.” She teased.

  He made a sweeping motion with his hand toward the bales of hay. “I like it. I’m thinking of having a window installed. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. I’d offer you a drink but the bar needs replenishing.”

  She grabbed a blanket and kicked off boots that were five sizes too big for her feet, curled her feet up tightly under her and wrapped the blanket over her legs. It smelled faintly of horse flesh, saddle soap and hay. He sat next to her, keeping a foot of distance between them, and more than a minute of silence.

  “I liked the day,” he finally said. “Being in the middle of family and friends like that was great. I remember when I was a little boy I had a friend who had sisters who were teasing him all the time. His mother made the worst meat loaf in Texas and her mashed potatoes had lumps the size of toad frogs but I’d beg to go over there to spend the night because of the family thing. I loved it.”

  “My brother and sisters are both a lot older than I am. Granny Molly said I was supposed to be the glue to hold together a broken marriage and it didn’t work. So they bossed me around all the time. I hated it. Guess we always want what we can’t have, don’t we?”

  “Are you talking in riddles or is that a literal question?”

  She looked across the dimly lit stall. “Which one do you want to answer?”

  “I’ll answer both. I couldn’t have a big family because there weren’t aunts and uncles in the wings or brothers and sisters in the house. That would be the literal question. The riddle one is whether this attraction we are fighting is something that will last a season or a lifetime. I guess we could see.”

  “Is that a proposition?”

  “I think it’s a statement. This whole thing scares the hell out of me, Stella. I didn’t walk into the Inn six weeks ago with intentions of finding you. I made my brags and vows about never, ever falling for a tall blond again. That was to my friends. To my heart, well, I’d sworn I’d never put it through misery again. Somehow I think this past few weeks has put an end to my boasting.”

  “What does that mean?” She held her breath.

  He moved closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his side. “It means I am very attracted to you.”

  The narrow room stayed dimly lit but somehow electricity sparkled even if it couldn’t be seen.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  “Physical attraction is like bricks made of a child’s Play Dough. It’s fun to play with but if you build a house on, it will collapse.”

  “So you’re saying that we need to back off and forget this thing between us? Because there is something there. It’s pretty strong. I think it even goes beyond the like phase.”

  “I’m saying . . .” she struggled with the words. “This is so difficult. I knew Mitch my whole life. We went to high school and college together. We fell in love and got married. We never analyzed a single thing. We were in love and we were going to be married forever.”

  “I know. Same with me and Julie. She and I grew up on adjoining horse farms. We used to say our parents made a contract before we were weaned that we’d grow up and marry. We were the darlings of the school. She went to modeling school. I went to college for business and agriculture. That should’ve told us something. There she was strutting down the runway in places like New York and Paris and I was hauling hay and breeding horses. But we never talked about things. We just got married and figured it would work itself out.”

  She snuggled down into his shoulder, suddenly sleepy. Now wasn’t that the strangest thing? In the warm house, she couldn’t make herself go to sleep. Out here in the cold horse stable she felt as if she could sleep until noon the next day. “Now here we are two burned people who are afraid of that big C word, huh? Analyzing every single word and nuance instead of enjoying the moment.”

  “Want to just see where it leads?” He tilted her chin up and kissed her. The first one barely brushed her lips and sent tingles to her toes. The second one deepened and almost blew the top off the horse stable.

  “Are you content with that?” She asked breathlessly when he let her up for air.

  “For now.” He leaned back into the corner and stretched his legs out beside her.

  She snuggled down into his shoulder and shut her eyes. Peace reigned in the little stall and they both slept.

  “Look at that would you? Merry Christmas everyone. God has sent us the sun.” Junior said when he awoke to the smell of coffee and the warmth of bright sunshine coming through the window.

  Lucy set a cup of steaming hot coffee on the floor next to him. “Quite literally. Both as in s-u-n and in S-o-n. Merry Christmas, Junior.”

  “Well, well. This is right nice. Having coffee brought to me in bed. Look at this room. Everyone is up and around but me.”

  Lucy sat down in the rocking chair near him. “Yes, Maggie is making cornbread dressing. Lauren is working on cranberry salad and looks like Stella went to help Rance with the chores. They sure were quiet when they snuck out of here. I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Well, ya’ll are busy with dinner so I’ll make breakfast,” Junior unzipped his sleeping bag.

  He made pancakes for breakfast and they all stopped their chores to eat but when Stella and Rance hadn’t come back at nine o’clock Junior began to worry. Maybe they’d had a four wheeler wreck. Maybe one of them had fallen on the ice. Lucy told him to stop being a worry wart.

  “They’re grown people. Not little kids. They can take care of themselves,” she said.

  A cell phone ring-tone began somewhere near the refrigerator.

  Lucy grabbed the phone and redialed the programmed number. “It’s from Dee. I wonder if they’ve gone to Roxie’s. Maybe . . .”

  Junior chuckled. “Now who’s the worry wart?”

  “Hello, Dee, this is Lucy. Is Stella down there? No? I guess she’s gone out to help Rance with chores. You are what? Good Lord, girl. He’s doing what? Yes, I’ll tell Stella. Ya’ll be careful and call us soon as you can. Is Roxie going? It’s there now? Okay, get going.”

  “What’s going on?” Maggie asked.

  “Dee wanted Stella to know she’s in labor. Jack is afraid to try to drive her to Ardmore. So he’s hired one of those medical helicopters to fly in and out,” Lucy said.

  “Lord, that’s expensive,” Maggie said.

  “Not to Jack. He could buy a helicopter and never miss the money,” Lucy said.

  “Then why do they live in a trailer house?” Maggie asked.

  “Because they want to, t
hat’s why,” Lucy answered.

  “Granny, Stella can’t be helping Rance. Her shoes are right here.” Lauren held up the only pair of shoes Stella had brought.

  “Junior put on your boots and I’ll get mine. We’re going out looking. Now I am worried,” Lucy dried her hands.

  Maggie laid the knife aside. “I’m going too.”

  Lauren dropped the shoes in the middle of the room. “Me, too.”

  They donned coats and boots and paraded across the back gate and into the pasture.

  “We’ll start in the stables,” Junior said. “That’s the first building and the closest one. If they’re doing chores then this is the last place they’ll go.” He led the way across the lawn and down a slight embankment, helping Lucy when the ground was too slick for her to maneuver down the worn path.

  They found them wrapped up asleep in the first stall.

  “Well, there was room in the inn. You didn’t have to sleep out here,” Lucy said loudly.

  Stella jumped as if she were a fifteen year old kid who’d just been caught making out with her boyfriend on the living room sofa.

  Rance yawned and stretched, not rattled one bit.

  “Room at the inn? Is there a baby Jesus?” Lauren teased.

  “No,” Stella snapped.

  Lucy’s eyes twinkled. “Then I don’t have to worry about something in about nine months?”

  “If there’s something in nine months, it will be a baby Jesus.” Stella’s steely blue eyes met hers in the middle of the room.

  “Too bad,” Junior muttered. “Chores done, son?”

  “Not yet,” Rance said.

  “Then I expect you’d better come on up to the house and have some breakfast and then we’ll get on with them. Cows and horses got to eat even if it is Christmas day.” He ushered Lucy, Maggie and Lauren out and headed them toward the house.

  “I wasn’t finished,” Lucy said.

  “Yes, you were and you’re not going to mention it again. They’re walkin’ on unfamiliar ground that is even more slippery than what we are on right now. They don’t need a bunch of sass or advice.”