by Dixie Cash
To Sam’s relief, she seemed to be loosening up, so he chuckled, too. “Guess we could get one of each and share.”
“We should. Texas is known for pecans, and Parker County peaches are famous too. At least, in Texas. But these are such large servings.”
“We could split one,” Sam replied. “You choose.”
“I like both. You’re the one who isn’t a native. You choose.”
“Hm, well, okay. Since I’ve been in Texas I have to confess to developing affection for pecan pie.” The grinning server dished up a hefty serving of pecan cobbler and asked if he wanted ice cream. Sam looked at Avery. She shrugged.
“Go for it,” Sam told the server.
Avery looked at him with such a killer smile that when the server handed him the dish of pecan cobber heaped with vanilla ice cream, Sam almost dropped it.
Picnic tables flanked a dance floor. They found empty places at one end of a table. “You remind me of someone,” Sam said, helping her remove her jacket. Her fragrance wafted to him again.
She laughed, a soft tinkling sound. “I remind everyone of someone. People tell me I look like Faith Hill.”
He leaned back and studied her. “You do, come to think of it. You’d probably look even more like her if your hair were down.”
“That’s how I usually wear it, but the water here has done a number on it.”
He looked at her intently, imagining long blond hair framing her perfect face. “I’d love to see it down,” he said, the comment sounding lame even to his own ears.
“You know who Faith Hill is?” she asked, yanking him out of his reverie.
He peeled off his own jacket and took a seat opposite her. “Sure. I’m not a big follower of music of any kind, but I know of a few country artists. In the small town where I grew up, you had to look hard to find something other than country or church music.”
For the next few minutes, they busied themselves eating and talking. “Hmm, this is delicious barbecue,” Avery said. “Cooked to perfection. It’s as good as anything I can get in Fort Worth.”
“I have to agree it’s pretty tasty.”
“You didn’t say the name of your hometown.”
“Ever hear of Mitchell, South Dakota?”
“No. Should I?”
“Only if you’re interested in corn.” Sam held up his half-eaten half ear of corn. “Small town in the southeast corner of the state. Mitchell’s the corn capitol of the world. The home of the Corn Palace. Did I say my folks are corn farmers?”
“Oh. Ethanol.”
“Well, yeah. Now. Since everybody has started using corn for gas, it’s become a big money crop. My family’s pretty happy.”
“You lived all your life in Mitchell?”
“From the day I was born until I left for college.”
“So how did you wind up in Texas?”
He watched her spread butter on a roll. “Long story. You see, I played baseball for the Mitchell Kernels.”
“Colonels? As in the military?”
“Okay, promise you won’t laugh.”
She laughed.
“Kernels, as in corn.”
“The team mascot is named Kernels?”
“Corn is everything in Mitchell. Anyway, I was a decent baseball player. I had some scholarship offers from several colleges, but Boise State, BSU, in Boise, Idaho, offered me the best deal.”
“Goodness,” Avery said. “A scholarship athlete. How impressive. Geography isn’t my best subject, but that seems like a long way from South Dakota. And Texas, too.”
“One of my sisters and her family live in Boise. A full-ride scholarship and being near family to boot seemed too good to turn down. During my sophomore year, a kid in the apartment building where I lived had a skateboard and I was going to show him my stuff. I fell on the concrete sidewalk and screwed up my knee and elbow. Bye-bye baseball scholarship. I had to get a job to stay in school. Since I was a journalism major, I started working part-time for the Boise Statesman. I figured if I couldn’t play my sport, I’d write about it.”
Sam had stunned himself. He never talked about the accident or the surgeries and the mental and physical anguish that followed. He still couldn’t bear to think about losing his future in baseball as a result of a ridiculous stunt on a kid’s toy. “Eventually, I graduated and went to work full-time for the newspaper. In Dallas I’m nothing, but in Boise, I was a real sportswriter.”
“Then why come to Dallas?”
“Career move. Dallas is the be-all, end-all place for sports. There’s no sport that isn’t represented somewhere in the Metroplex. I decided if I wanted a serious career in sports reporting, Texas is where I need to be. That’s why this Caleb Crawford story is so important to me. I hated the idea of doing the Elvis Presley gig, but when I found out about the Crawford kid being from Salt Lick, I got interested. That’s a career-making story. I’m hoping it will do that for me.”
“Then I hope so, too,” she said.
“Hey, I’ve been talking through this whole meal. What about you? Where is this Elvis story taking you?”
“I’m doing a human-interest article. My editor has promised me a byline if I turn in a good story.”
“You can’t beat that. What reporter doesn’t want a byline? Where did you go to school?”
“University of Texas.”
“Austin, right?”
“Yes. I was a journalism major too. But the longer I work for the Star-Telegram, the more I wonder if I’m cut out for the newspaper business. When I was a little kid, though, I had big dreams. Believe it or not, I started an elementary-school newspaper when I was in third grade. I did it for three years and actually made a profit from it the second year. My mom and dad helped me, of course.”
All through the dinner, an ancient jukebox in the corner had played one classic country song after another. The dance floor was crowded with couples of every age. After finishing the pecan pie, Sam and Avery watched the dancers for a few minutes.
“Do you like to dance?” Avery asked.
“I’m pretty clumsy,” Sam answered.
“If you want to give it a try, I’ll help you.” She reached across the table and took his hand. He didn’t resist, despite knowing that on a dance floor, he was as awkward as a bear. But after the woman’s smile had melted his bones, how could he refuse her anything? Together, they got to their feet.
She made dancing so easy for him he could have done it without music. And he liked having his arms around her. She moved with ease and followed his awkward lead effortlessly, even gave him a few pointers. Several songs later his technique had improved and they moved around the floor with more fluidity.
As the tunes continued, one after the other, Sam held her closer.
He wanted the moment and the music to never stop. Meanwhile she hummed softly, occasionally murmuring a low lyric or two. “Do you know the words to every country song there is?” he asked her softly.
She leaned back and smiled up into his eyes. She was tall, but he was taller.
“What can I say?” she said. “I’m really a country girl. I didn’t always live in Fort Worth. I grew up in a town not much bigger than Salt Lick. Music was always in our house. My lullabies, thanks to my dad, were sung by Patsy Cline or Gene Watson or Willie Nelson.”
“And your mom? Who did she like?” He dared a sweeping turn and surprised himself with how well it turned out.
Avery smiled. “Hey, you’re getting good. Would you believe my mom was a hippie? Her artists were Joni Mitchell and James Taylor. Or the Eagles. Different music, but still good.”
“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hippie.”
“Gen-u-ine. Until she met my dad.”
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with that.” In the background, as Brooks and Dunn sang of broken dreams dancing in and out of the beams of a neon moon, he pulled her even closer.
“How about you?” she asked. “When you were a little boy, what put you to sleep at night
?”
He set her away just enough to look at her face. “Not music…it was a tiny kiss here.” He leaned and brushed his lips across her forehead. “A little one here.” He brushed another soft kiss onto the tip of her nose. “And a butterfly kiss here.”
“Hmm,” she said softly. “No one’s butterfly kissed me since I was a little girl.”
The song and the dance ended, but not the desire coursing through Sam. Somehow, he believed she felt the same. He walked her back to the table. Without releasing her hand, he laid the certificate he had won and several bills for a tip on the table and without speaking, they headed for the exit.
Outside, before entering the car, Sam pulled her to him again. As naturally as leaves falling in autumn, their lips came together, their tongues found one another’s and they kissed as if they’d been kissing forever. When Avery pulled away, Sam released a small groan.
Avery cleared her throat. “It just so happens I have a hotel room not far from here.”
Sam’s heart nearly leaped from his chest. “That’s odd. So do I. Then should we continue this?”
“I think so.”
“Your place or mine?”
Avery fixed him with those devastating eyes. “Both?”
chapter twenty-one
Avery awoke the next morning alone, but not lonely. She had lost hours of sleep, but didn’t feel tired. She felt alive.
It had been her idea to sneak back to her own room and her own bed after making love with Sam most of the night. He had begged her to stay with him, but she knew he had made a date to go bird hunting early with Mr. Crawford in Salt Lick and she knew how important that acquaintance was to him.
Besides that, she typically didn’t sleep with a man she had just met. She feared the morning sans the previous evening’s passion might be uneasy or strained. Still, last night had felt more right than anything she had ever done in her life.
Thinking back, she giggled with delight, embarrassment even. Sam had been sweet and wonderful, but she…well, goodness, she had been awesome! She had been a wanton, loose woman. A fantastic lover. She had never had those thoughts about herself before. But then, she had never been with anyone who brought out her secrets and hidden passions the way Sam Carter had. So how could making love with him be a mistake? She grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulled it over her head and let out a howl.
Still smiling, she threw the blanket off, sat up and pushed a sheaf of her long hair off her face—long hair that felt stiff and brittle. Her long, thick hair was one of her best features. It had never been such a mess.
“…I’d like to see it down….”
Avery could still see the expression in Sam’s eyes when he had said those words. She was determined that the next time Sam Carter saw her, her hair would look as soft and silky as it usually did. Debbie Sue and Edwina must know how to contend with hair and the hard water in this part of the world. Debbie Sue had long thick hair herself and it didn’t look stiff as starch. In fact, it looked soft and shiny.
Then she remembered that she still had two broken nails from trying to wrestle her suitcase from her trunk back at Love Field in Dallas. Now she had two more that no doubt had happened while she was in a drunken stupor. What she needed was a visit to a beauty salon.
She was impressed that a place as small as Salt Lick had a full-service salon. The fact that the only two people she knew in town operated it made it even better. She found the business card Debbie Sue had given her and keyed in the number.
After five burrs, Edwina’s voice came on with a voice mail message:
“Thank you for calling the Domestic Equalizers and Styling Station. If you think your lover’s cheating, press one. If you know your lover’s cheating, press two. If you’re looking through a window watching your lover cheat, hang up and call nine-one-one. Nothing spoils romance faster than the cops showing up…. If you need a hairdo, a manicure or a facial, press three. Somebody will call you back.”
Avery was laughing by the end of the message. Who could keep from liking Edwina and Debbie Sue? She disconnected, checked the business card and found Debbie Sue’s cell number.
“Hello?” Debbie Sue answered, almost in a whisper.
“Debbie Sue? Hi, this is Avery. Did I wake you?”
“Lord, no,” Debbie Sue said, still speaking in a low voice. “I always talk low if I’m on my cell in public. I might say something I don’t the world to hear. I’m on my way to the shop, but right now, I’m standing in line at our one and only convenience store. Are you in Salt Lick?”
“Not yet. I’m still in Odessa. But I’ll be there soon.” Avery told her new friend how the hard water had turned her hair to straw and the services she wanted from the beauty salon.
“Ed and I are experts,” Debbie Sue said. “Lord, we can turn that hair of yours into strands of blond silk. We wondered why you didn’t wear it down.”
Avery breathed a sigh of relief and crossed her fingers that either Debbie Sue or Edwina would have time for her. “I hope y’all can work me in. If you can’t—”
“No problem. Today’s for walk-ins only. What time will you be in?”
“Would it be okay if get there in about an hour and a half? I could drop by that café and get some breakfast for all of us.”
“That’d be great, but Hogg’s is closed ’til noon today. That whole family and staff have been working around the clock for the past month or more. Tonight’s the big night. The talent show and the finale. So Hogg’s is getting ready for a crowd. Tell you what, I’ll just hop out of line here and get us something here. They’ve got a grill and they make a pretty decent breakfast burrito. Or I can pick up a box of doughnuts. What do you like?”
Avery thought for a few seconds. “Something greasy would be great. No, make it something sweet. No, greasy. Oh, heavens, just get both.” She laughed. “If they have fresh fruit, that would be great. And don’t forget orange juice and coffee. Lots of coffee with cream and sugar. Real sugar, not the fake stuff. And get whatever you and Edwina want, my treat.”
“Okaaay,” Debbie Sue said. “I can do that. Anything else?”
“A Dr Pepper with lots of ice. A chocolate bar would be heavenly and oh, my God, a Moon Pie. I haven’t had a Moon Pie in ages. I think that’s all for me.”
Debbie Sue laughed. “Well, if it isn’t, we can just come back in my pickup and load up what we missed, can’t we?”
“Yes, I guess we can,” Avery said, laughing with her. “See you soon.”
“Hey, wait,” Debbie Sue said. “How was supper last night? Did you have a good time?”
Avery decided against disclosing she had slept with Sam or that the two of them had plans for the evening. She didn’t want Debbie Sue and Edwina to think she had jumped into bed with him a little too soon. They didn’t know her well enough to know that was uncommon behavior for her. “It was fantastic. Supper, that is. I, uh, um, uh, I can’t remember when I’ve eaten anything as good as the…that barbeque, I mean.”
“You’re stuttering,” Debbie Sue said.
“Oh. Well, I shouldn’t be.”
“Whatever. See you soon.”
“Okeydokey.”
Avery disconnected. Had she pulled it off? Had she concealed the fact that she and Sam had spent most of last night in wild and crazy sex? She ran through the conversation with Debbie Sue again and patted herself on the back. Debbie Sue wouldn’t suspect a thing. Not only was Avery Deaton a wanton, sexy female, she was clever as hell, too.
Debbie Sue speed-dialed Edwina at home. “Ed, listen. I’m at Kwik Stop picking up breakfast. And possibly lunch and dinner. Avery had great sex last night and she’s coming in to the shop for hair and a manicure.”
“She told you she had great sex?” Edwina said excitedly.
“Well, nooo. Not in so many words. But when I asked her what she wanted for breakfast, she named everything but chewable laxatives.”
“Damn, you’re right,” Edwina said. “And not only did she have great sex, sh
e’s planning on it again tonight. Hooray for her. While she’s in the shop, we should throw in a facial at no charge. Hey, great sex gives me an idea. Gotta run. I need to catch Vic before he drives off.”
Well, fuck, Debbie Sue thought. Am I the only person in the whole damn state of Texas who isn’t getting any? She flipped her phone shut and dropped it in her purse. If Buddy Overstreet didn’t get home soon, she might have to go to South Texas and find him.
A few minutes later, Debbie Sue parked behind the Styling Station.
She grabbed sacks filled with items from every major food group.
Funny how different people reacted to life’s little happenings. When she was as happy as Avery had sounded, food was the last thing that interested her. It was the blues, moments of melancholy, that made Debbie Sue seek the comfort of food.
As she stepped onto the sidewalk, carrying several brown paper bags from Kwik Stop, the window-rattling noise from the glass-pack mufflers on Edwina’s vintage Mustang broke into the otherwise quiet calm of the morning. Edwina brought the Mustang to a stop beside Debbie Sue’s pickup, an enormous pink bubble-gum globe obscuring the lower part of her face.
“Hey,” the lanky brunette said, climbing out of the Mustang. “You need some help?”
“I’ve got anything you could ever want to eat or drink, including Dr Pepper and Moon Pies. Avery said an hour an a half, so she should be here before ten o’clock.”
“Do we want to press for full details?”
“I don’t think so, Ed. We hardly know the woman. It’s bad enough my imagination is already cluttered with images of you and Vic in bed. I really don’t want to add a stranger.”
“How do you expect to ever learn anything about sex?”
“I don’t need to learn anything, thank you. Buddy and I do just fine. I just need for him to get home so we can stay in practice.”
Inside the salon, Debbie Sue set the sacks on the payout counter and Edwina began to paw through them.
“Anything new on the shoes?” Edwina asked.
“No. Have you heard something?”