by Mae Nunn
“You’re really lucky.” Stella suddenly seemed far away.
Joiner walked around to open her door, and offered her his hand. “What is she speaking about?”
Stella took his hand to climb out of the truck, then released it. “I believe the upcoming season.”
“Spring?”
“Lent.”
*
AFTER THE TALK by Adrienne Rutella, they bought one of her books of short stories. She signed it for them and they chitchatted awhile. It turned out she did remember Joiner from their class at UT, which was kind of fun. Stella seemed impressed, anyway. When they left the church, Joiner made the split-second decision not to head toward Stella’s home. Oddly, thinking about Lent had given him another idea.
“You want to go dancing, Stella?”
She looked at him as if he was crazy. But not necessarily a bad kind of crazy. “Really?”
He just grinned and gunned the engine.
“Sure. Okay.”
He headed across town to The Wild Horse Saloon. The truck clock said nine thirty, and the parking lot was already overflowing. A neon sign told them Hellcat Susie was the featured band. Joiner found a spot to park the truck and escorted Stella toward the entrance. Music blared as they opened the door, and a few women in boots and colorful cowgirl hats spilled out.
Stella stayed close to Joiner. She didn’t say a word. He guided her to a wood table in the corner where a candle flickered in a red votive holder.
“You hungry?”
“Not really.”
He couldn’t hear her very well so he leaned forward. She yelled it again.
“They have some mean desserts,” he yelled back.
When the server came, a college-aged girl in tight blingy jeans and thick makeup, Joiner ordered himself a soda and a piece of pecan pie with two forks. Stella said she’d take a soda, too.
They watched the people on the dance floor for a few moments. Then Joiner moved from across the table to sit beside Stella. “I want to be able to hear you,” he said without having to yell this time.
Stella smiled but looked as though she might bolt for the door. She played with her necklace.
“Have you ever been here before?”
“Of course. Who hasn’t?”
“So why do you have a deer-in-the-headlights expression on your face?” He thought her big eyes were as beautiful as a doe’s but didn’t know whether she’d take that as a compliment, so he kept his mouth shut.
“Well, it was more of a thing I did in college.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
The server brought the pie and drinks, and Joiner thanked her.
“Look at those ladies. They seem like they’re having a good time.” He drew her attention to a couple of women who Joiner pegged as midsixties, maybe older, who were dancing together. Both wore outdated Western dresses, heavily fringed, and sequined boots. With no regard for who was watching, they moved their bodies and laughed out loud. Every once in a while they’d smile and wave in the direction of a table where two old men sat, playing a game of checkers.
“They must have been friends forever,” Stella observed.
Joiner handed her a fork. “You’ve got to try this pie, it’s warm. And be sure you get a bite of ice cream.”
“Yum.” She savored it, then took another bite.
Joiner grinned and put his arm around her. “You need to get out more, Boss Lady. Loosen up. Learn to have a little fun.”
“I know how to have fun.” She poked his hand gently with her fork.
“Okay, why don’t you show me, then. Ready to cut a rug?”
Her fork clattered to the plate. “As a matter of fact, I am.” She threw back her soda as though it was a shot of whiskey and pushed back her chair.
Hellcat Susie launched into their rendition of “Footloose” and then followed with “Hillbilly Bone” and “Baby Likes to Rock It.” Joiner nodded his admiration and tried to keep up as Stella stomped her boots and twirled her dress in reckless abandon. She dragged him into a line dance with the older ladies, their husbands and a group of college kids, and when Alan Jackson’s “Good Time” finally gave way to a slow song, Joiner was panting.
He pulled Stella close and they laughed, catching their breath. Then, to Joiner’s surprise, Stella laid her head on his chest. He held her, rocking slowly back and forth. Her fingers threaded their way through the curls at the nape of his neck. In his hands her waist seemed tiny and fragile, almost as if she might break. As a new song started, he ran one hand up her spine, gently patting the song’s rhythm on her back. The lead singer belted out, “It was no accident, me finding you. Someone had a hand in it, long before we knew.”
Tracy Byrd’s “Keeper of the Stars.” Could this woman be his star to keep? He certainly wasn’t looking for someone, but here she was in his arms. He knew he held something precious, something valuable. Joiner kissed her on top of her head, his lips brushing her silken hair.
“I can hear your heart beating,” she whispered, gazing up at him with her doe’s eyes.
He touched her cheek. “Pretty star.”
She laid her head back on his chest and they stayed like that, suspended in time, until the song ended. Slowly, they came apart.
“Want to get out of here?”
She nodded, and there was mischief in her eyes.
CHAPTER NINE
BACK AT THE RANCH, Stella had Joiner stop the truck at the barn. He was obviously clueless as to what she was thinking, and she liked the feeling of keeping him guessing. Of being in control. It was her turn to surprise him, to throw him off guard for once, as he so often had that effect on her.
“What are you doing?”
“Patience, grasshopper. You’ll see.” The streetlamp outside provided enough light for them to find their way into the barn, and Stella led Joiner into her office, where she switched on the light. She fished a key out of her top desk drawer.
He picked up a photo and studied it, but she didn’t comment. It seemed obvious enough that the photo was of her and her mom. “Stay here a minute. I need to grab something.”
Stella left the office and walked down the corridor to a closet containing supplies. She was back in a flash with a couple of gray horse blankets, soft to the touch, but kind of heavy. Joiner took them from her. Stella couldn’t help but notice how his biceps balled up under his plaid cotton shirt. With those violet eyes, coal-black hair and that body, he reminded her of Superman. Superman and some kind of cowboy Adonis.
Joiner gave her a quizzical look. “You’re not putting me on a horse in the dark, are you?”
“You scared, cowboy?”
“Nope, but I’m also not Paul Revere.”
“Oh, come on. The only riding we’re doing is on a pumpkin.” She winked at him.
“Well, that sounds safe.”
“Since when are you so concerned about safety?”
Stella led him around the back of the barn where the ATV was housed.
“Ah, yes. The pumpkin.”
She took the blankets from him and dumped them into the backseat. Then she climbed behind the steering wheel and Joiner stepped into the passenger side. The Gator motor was quiet as she turned toward the pasture.
“Can you get the gate?”
“You’re the boss.” He jumped out and opened the gate in the glow of the Gator’s headlights. When Stella pulled through, he closed it behind her and got in.
“Where are you taking me, and what are you planning to do with me?”
“To an undisclosed location.”
“That answers one of my questions, sort of.”
“You’ll see what I’m planning. And you’ll like it—I think.”
Joiner sat back and relaxed. He stretched his long legs out in front of him as much as he could in the Gator, which admittedly wasn’t much, and laid his arm casually across the back of the seat. The touch of his hand on her shoulder was electrifying. Stella had to concentrate to remember where she was going, even though s
he’d been there a million times.
Finally, they pulled into a pine thicket. Joiner straightened in his seat, and Stella carefully maneuvered the Gator through the dense woods.
“I didn’t know this ranch had a heart of darkness,” Joiner commented. “Your father didn’t take me here.”
Stella glanced sideways at him and grinned. “Maybe you should come closer to me so you won’t be so afraid.”
“That’s as good an excuse as any,” Joiner said. “I’ll take it.” He scooted over till he was right beside her, their bodies touching, and Stella could feel his warmth. He smelled of leather. “I need an excuse, too. Since we’re practically strangers.”
Stella nudged him in the ribs. The muscles of his abdomen were rock-solid.
They traveled farther, winding their way through what seemed like an unending network of loblolly pines. The shadows were palpable. Then the Gator crawled out into an opening about half the size of a football field. Stella drove to the center and cut the motor but left on the headlights.
“Would you mind grabbing those blankets?”
Joiner did as he was told, and he and Stella spread the blankets on the ground a few feet away. Then she went back to the Gator and switched off the lights, leaving them in complete darkness. Joiner was standing nearby, waiting for her, and she stumbled into him on her way back. They fell into a pile on the blankets.
He laughed—a deep, sexy sound. Stella had fallen on top of him and he held her there, face-to-face.
“This is all part of your plan, isn’t it? To bring me out in the middle of nowhere and ravish me in the dark.”
Stella laughed.
“And you say you’re not bold.” Joiner nudged her nose with his. “What’s bold if you’re not? You’re a blonde assassin!”
Stella did not give in to her urge to kiss him. Instead, she wrestled away and lay down on her back beside him.
“Look up.”
Joiner wriggled his broad shoulders to get more comfortable and then he was still. Stella listened to him breathing.
“What am I looking at?”
“Stars.”
He glanced over at her, and then back to the sky. “No kidding.”
“Well, stars and planets.” She lifted her hand to draw an imaginary line from west to east. “There’s Jupiter, Mars and then Saturn.”
“No way! Cool!”
“See those two stars just east of Jupiter? That’s Gemini. The twins. Their names are Castor and Pollux.”
Stella pointed toward them.
Joiner squinted until he said, “I see ’em. There. Yeah.”
“Of course, Ursa Major is directly overhead. It’s also called the Great Bear. And notice how it points to Polaris?”
Joiner nodded. “Polaris?”
“The pole star.”
“That’s really something. Look how it stands out like a diamond in this pitch-black spot. How do you know all of this stuff?”
“My mom and I used to come here when Buster was away at the rodeo. She taught me all of the constellations.”
Joiner rose up on one elbow. “Your mom brought you out here in the middle of the night?”
“Yeah, she did,” Stella said softly. Her thoughts drifted to her mother and those moments they’d shared, how they used to lie in this very place underneath the stars and talk for hours.
Joiner’s voice broke her reverie. “Were you ever afraid?”
“No. Not back then,” Stella said. “She wasn’t, so I wasn’t either. I guess I took my cues from her.”
“Man, she must have been an amazing woman.”
“Best mom ever.” Stella bit her lip. “I guess that’s why every inch of this ranch is so important to me. It represents her, and our connection.”
“Still, I can’t imagine a mother and a little girl out here alone. What if some wild animal came up?”
“She always brought her shotgun with us.” Stella smiled at the memory.
“No way!” Joiner exclaimed. “She was packin’?”
Stella laughed. “Uh-huh.”
He lay back down and sighed. “I think I’m in love with this lady.”
They lay there in silence for a few moments before Stella spoke again. Pointing to the northeastern sky, she said, “Look there. The Summer Triangle is just rising.”
“Where?”
“Here.” She took his hand and pointed toward it so he could see. “That’s Altair and Deneb, and this one’s Vega.”
“Like your horse.”
Stella nodded. “It’s an Arabic constellation. Her name means the swooping eagle. Vega’s the fifth brightest star in the sky.”
“How cool is that?”
“Vega will become more and more prominent as we get closer to summer.” She brought her hand back down, still holding on to his.
Joiner turned on his side and faced her. “Thank you for sharing your stars with me.”
“My stars?”
“Yours.” His voice was low and tender. “Your stars, your special place, your memories.” He pulled her hand toward him and kissed each one of her fingertips.
Stella suddenly felt as if her heart had morphed into a supernova. What was it about this man that drove her so crazy? She reached up and yanked his face toward hers, tangling her fingers in his hair and kissing him hard on the mouth. Joiner responded with another kiss just as explosive, just as hungry. As their lips collided, Stella felt a shock wave flow through her body with the energy of two suns. It was a long time before they came up for air.
When they did pull away, Stella lay back, but Joiner stayed on his side. She could barely make out his profile in the dimness, but it was there—the strong jaw, Roman nose, and high forehead framed by curls as black as the sky. She traced it with her fingers like a blind woman, memorizing every feature.
She didn’t understand it herself, but there was an urgency in what she felt when she was with Joiner. As if she had to seize the day, act on every impulse…grab each moment before it got away. Like when she used to ride barrels, the feeling both scared and thrilled her.
His eyes sparkled as he looked down at her face. “My turn,” he whispered. With fingers roughened from reining a horse, he brushed back her hair and began to trace the outline of her face, starting from her widow’s peak and going down her jawline, then up the other side. With his thumb he rubbed each cheekbone as if it was a piece of fine china, and then he touched his pointer finger on the end of her nose. “Close your eyes.”
Stella obeyed, and Joiner began to kiss her softly. His lips were like velvet. One kiss on the forehead, one on each eyelid, one on each cheekbone, one on her nose. Then her chin.
He moved in closer. Stella breathed in the scent of leather as his waist brushed against her hip. His head was at her shoulder. Then she felt his cool breath on her neck.
Low, just at the collar of her dress, his lips caressed her skin. He followed the lacy trim in its rounded shape from shoulder to shoulder and back again.
He began moving upward. Stella’s skin prickled till she thought she was going to catch on fire. She grabbed a handful of his hair and tried to pull him forward as she raised her head to kiss him.
“Patience, grasshopper.”
The words formed on his lips in the dip of her neck and she felt him smile crookedly. He kissed all around her necklace. Then he was at her jaw, nibbling her ears and finally—finally—his lips found hers again.
She rose up to meet him, wrapping her hands around his neck. As they kissed she explored his back, tracing each taut muscle, every sinew and the strong, hard, edges of his shoulder blades. Every fiber of his body seemed to radiate heat at her touch.
When they finally stopped kissing, Joiner took her by the waist and carefully eased her onto her side with her back to him, fitting her against his body. He massaged her shoulders as they lay there like a pair of spoons.
“Joiner?”
All was quiet. Stella’s heart pounded in her chest.
“I’m not like
my mom was.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m really not bold.”
Joiner laughed. “You keep saying that, but…”
“Joiner, listen. Please.”
“Okay. I’m listening. But let me be the first to say that I rather enjoy your boldness.” He kissed her on the top of her head.
“I’m not like my mom was, though, and I don’t think I want to be.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s what killed her.”
CHAPTER TEN
BUSTER HADN’T BEEN this excited since his last rodeo. He jumped out of bed before his alarm sounded, pulled on his best overalls, and headed to the kitchen. Mugsy and Mitzi had stirred from their respective sleeping arrangements when they heard him get up, as they always did, so he let them out the back door in a whirl of black and white before getting down to business. He’d invited Joiner for breakfast, but his biggest reason for cooking was that he wanted to make sure Stella had a good start on the opening day of Star Stables.
Donning a red commercial-type apron, Buster made the coffee and then preheated the oven to four hundred fifty degrees. He liked to rev the oven up and then cut it down to a hundred when he popped his biscuits in. Biscuits and gravy was Stella’s favorite breakfast and Buster’s favorite to make, besides pancakes.
Taking out his favorite stainless steel bowl, he poured in the right amount of self-rising flour. No need to measure. Then he added a pinch of salt and about a tablespoon of sugar and stirred them together. Next he took out the Crisco and, using a big spoon, dropped a few dollops of the butter-flavored shortening onto the flour mixture. He cut this in with a pastry blender till it was what he called “mealy.”
Making a well in the middle of the bowl, Buster then poured in buttermilk, again not measuring. He’d done it so many times he knew just by sight. He stirred the mixture till it was doughy, then dumped it out onto a floured board. After mashing it down to about an inch thickness, being careful not to handle it too much, he cut out the biscuits with a walnut biscuit cutter Stella and her mother had brought back from War Eagle a long time ago. Placing the biscuits about an inch apart on a baking stone, Buster set them in the oven. Then he turned his attention to the gravy.