Red's Hot Cowboy

by Carolyn Brown

  Farris had a firm handshake in spite of his bony, veined hands. “That’s right. I’m sellin’ off what I can and then I’m goin’ to make the folks who bought the farm a deal on what’s left over,” he said.

  Wil walked around the middle-sized tractor that was in mint condition. It wasn’t new but it looked as if it had just rolled out of a display room.

  “Why didn’t they want it all?” he asked.

  “Got their own equipment. Live right next door. That’d be two section lines down the road. I got two sections and they’re makin’ their place double in size,” he explained. “Your wife is a pretty little thing. Bet she’s hell on wheels. Can you keep up with her?”

  Pearl hopped off the tractor and joined the two men. Wil pulled her tight against him and kissed her on the top of the head.

  “It’s tough but I manage. You know how these redheads are. They got a temper and you got to stay a step ahead of ’em all the time.”

  Farris chuckled. “I sure do. My wife was a little short package like her. Didn’t have red hair but had them same green eyes.”

  Pearl played along. “We got to have a temper or you old cowboys would run right over us.”

  “She even sounds like my wife. You take care of her, Wil. Them kind is hard to come by. Now about these here tractors. I’ve got each one of them priced separate, but if you was willin’ to take all three I’d make you a mighty fine deal.”

  “I don’t need but one. Maybe the middle-sized one,” Wil said.

  “How good of a deal you talkin’ about?” Pearl asked.

  “Tell you what. I ain’t had my dinner yet so I’m goin’ in the house and eat. Keys are in the tractors and there’s forty acres behind the barn of nothin’ but plowed up ground. Take them out there and run them around the field a few times. See which one you want and then we’ll talk money.” With a wave, he headed for the house, a gray frame ranch style place to the west of the barn.

  Pearl shook loose from Wil and climbed up in the biggest tractor and looked down at him.

  “You really know how to work the gears on that thing?” he asked.

  She smiled at him, turned the key, and shut the door. She backed the tractor up, drove it around the barn and out into the field. It handled like a Caddy compared to the old worn out piece of crap her father had made her drive all week in the hay field that summer she and Jasmine got into trouble. It had a closed cab, air conditioning, and even a radio.

  Wil folded his hands across his chest and leaned against the rough wood at the back of the barn. She didn’t grind the gears a single time and the tractor purred like a kitten in her hands. When she reached the end of the field, she turned around without a hitch and drove it back to the barn.

  She hopped down from the cab, landed square on her feet, and looked up at him. “Drives like a Caddy. Air conditioning and heat works fine. Radio picks up the country music station in Dallas loud and clear. Gears are tight. Cab is clean as the day it was bought. You can test this one while I see how the mid-sized one handles.”

  “Don’t need to. I could see and hear it just fine. Take the next one around the field. It’s the one I’m most interested in,” Wil said.

  “Don’t get in a hurry about making up your mind. He might make you a deal you can’t turn down on the whole lot of them. Bank would loan you the money on good equipment like this in a heartbeat,” she said.

  Wil bit back a grin. He didn’t need to borrow money. He had cattle to outfit his ranch before he bought it and money left over after the sale from his rodeo days.

  She drove the next tractor around the field and brought it back. “Just as well kept up as the bigger one. He’s used this one more. Ask about how many hours are on each one. I’ll bet this one has more than any of them because the seat is worn down more and the radio knob is looser.”

  When she’d driven the smaller one and parked it she said, “This is my favorite. I betcha his wife drove it because I can almost smell her perfume still lingering in there. It turns on a dime and if I had a ranch I’d buy it. Aren’t you going to drive them?”

  Wil shook his head. “He’ll bring his books to show me how many hours they’ve been used and the upkeep. He looks honest. We’ll see what his askin’ price is on each one.”

  She bounced up on the tailgate of the pickup truck and swung her legs like a little girl. Driving the tractors had been fun. “So tell me, why are you buying more equipment?”

  “I told you already. The ranch next to mine is going to be up for grabs before long and I’d like to expand. More land could run more cattle. The Lazy M takes care of itself, which means I raise my own feed for my cattle. So more cattle means more hay, which needs more land. I could use one more tractor right now. If I buy the land next to mine, I’ll need at least two more and a bunkhouse so I can hire more help. Jack and I do fairly well but it stretches us pretty thin in the spring and summer.”

  “You like ranchin’, don’t you?”

  He sat down beside her, his thigh tight against hers. “I love it. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

  “You sound like my dad.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “He says that his job gets in the way of his ranchin’.”

  “Guess it’s a good thing, then.”

  “So which one are you going to buy and how much are you willin’ to pay for it?” she asked.

  “Depends on how many hours are on each one. I could use the big one but the middle-sized one is probably more in my price range,” he said.

  The back door of the house slammed and Farris took his time getting from the yard to the barn. He had a toothpick in the corner of his mouth and a quart jar of sweet tea in his hand.

  “My wife woulda fussed at me for not offerin’ y’all something to drink. You want some tea I’ll go on back in the house and fix you up a jar full.”

  “We’re good,” Wil said. “You got some nice equipment here. Could I see the books to see how many hours are on each one?”

  “Big boy there has three hundred. The middle one is the one I used the most and she’s got four hundred and fifty. Little girl was Momma’s tractor. She liked to get out in the field ever so often just to show me that she was still the boss. I hate to sell her but there ain’t no way I need her where I’m goin’. She’s got two hundred hours on her.” Farris leaned on the fender of the truck and looked lovingly at the three tractors.

  Pearl patted his hand. “Got lots of good memories in those green things, haven’t you?”

  Farris’s voice quivered when he answered, “Yes, missy, I sure do. Me and Momma made us a deal when we married. We wouldn’t never borrow no money for nothin’ and we wouldn’t buy on time. We saved a long time to buy our first tractor. It was a used John Deere and Momma worried that the mules we’d been plowin’ with would get their feelin’s hurt. We raised up four kids and times got hard sometimes, but we never went to the bank. I lost her three months ago. Ranch ain’t the same without her.”

  “If the ranch don’t produce it, you don’t need it?” Pearl said.

  “Don’t never go against that and you’ll be fine. I was askin’ fifty-five for the big one, fifty for the middle one, and forty for the little girl. I’d made up my mind to take a hundred thirty for all three but if you kids want them, I’ll take a hundred and twenty-five and be glad they’re goin’ to a good home. Crazy, ain’t it, how you get attached to equipment just like they was animals.”

  “We’ll take them,” Pearl said without hesitating.

  Wil’s eyes widened. He’d been prepared to part with sixty thousand that day but not a hundred and twenty-five thousand.

  “You don’t think we’d better talk about it?” he asked Pearl in a tight-lipped, hoarse voice.

  “No. It’s a good deal and I like that little girl real well. I think I’ll enjoy plowing up the fields with her and hookin’ up a hay fork on the front to take the big round bales to the feed lot,” she said. “You want to write Farris a check out of your account
or should I?”

  Wil almost swallowed his tongue. Was she willing to bankroll him?

  “I’ll write a check. I can probably get over here Saturday with a truck to take them out of your way,” Wil said.

  “That will work out just fine. Not that I don’t trust you kids, but that way I’ll be sure your check clears the bank by then.”

  “I understand.” Wil reached for his checkbook inside his coat pocket. “I appreciate the good deal.”

  “You kids keep up that business about not goin’ into debt and you’ll do just fine. I’ll go on in the house and bring the books out so you can see I’m not blowin’ smoke up your under britches about the hours and the maintenance.”

  When he was in the house and the door was closed, Wil turned to Pearl. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because it’s a helluva deal. I was a loan officer at the bank in Durant. I know farm equipment. You should be dropping down on your knees and askin’ for forgiveness for stealing those tractors from Farris. His kids may put out a contract on you when they find out that you rinky-dooed him right out of them.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to spend that much money today. Maybe I don’t even have that much in my account,” he said.

  “Then I’ll write half of it out of mine and claim the little girl as mine. I’ll pay you room and board for her and come visit her when I get a hankering to drive around in the fields.”

  “Where did you get that much money?”

  She pointed a long, slim finger at him. “Darlin’, don’t you worry about my bank account. If I wanted to buy those tractors and set them in the middle of the gravel parking lot at the Longhorn Inn just to look at, I could do it.”

  Farris returned with the paperwork all neatly filed in folders. “Momma took care of things proper.”

  He and Wil exchanged folders for a check.

  “Thank you for doin’ business with me. I think you’ll be right happy with them and I feel like Momma is smiling down from heaven.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Pearl said. “Let’s go on home, darlin’. I can’t wait to tell Lucy and Jasmine about the tractors.”

  “Them your daughters?” Farris asked.

  “No, just my good friends,” Pearl said.

  “Well, you kids have a good day and I’ll see y’all on Saturday.” Farris put the check in his bibbed pocket and sauntered back toward the house.

  Chapter 22

  The temperature hovered around one or two degrees above freezing and it rained all day on Sunday. Three guests were all that checked into the Longhorn on Saturday night and they’d left early that morning, so Lucy and Pearl had the rooms cleaned by mid-morning. Jasmine had driven back to Sherman for the weekend to tell her mother that she was buying a café in Ringgold, Texas. Lucy had borrowed Delilah and gone to her room with a book for the rest of the day.

  At noon Tess called the first time.

  “Hello, Mother,” Pearl said.

  “You better start early because it’s raining and the weatherman says it could freeze.” Tess went right into the conversation without a hello.

  “Mother, it’s only rain. We’ll be there in plenty of time. How’s Aunt Kate?” Pearl said, but there was still a little doubt hiding in the back of her heart. One that said he’d change his mind at the last minute. He’d said they needed to slow the wagon down after that fantastic week of sex. Maybe after the week apart he’d put the brakes on the wagon and stop it completely.

  When she tuned back into her mother’s ranting Tess was saying, “Kate is cantankerous! She’s trying to bully me into going to Savannah for a week with them. She’s using the excuse that she and Mother shouldn’t be traveling alone at their age, and please tell me that he’s your boyfriend. It’s bad enough that you spent the night at his ranch without a chaperone but if he’s not your boyfriend that makes it even worse,” Tess said.

  “I don’t know what he is right now.” Pearl could see Tess going up like a bonfire if she knew about the week of sex every night.

  Tess groaned. “I heard that you’ve had dinner with him and his family and then with his mother at the first of the week. That sounds serious to me. Did you shave your legs?”

  “What?”

  “Did you shave your legs and wear fancy underpants when you went to dinner with him?”

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  Tess sighed. “You did, didn’t you? I really, really did not want you to get mixed up with a rancher, but I suppose it’s better than the alternative. Drive careful. I’ll see you at cocktails.”

  “What’s the alternative, Mother?”

  “An ex-con biker who murdered his mother might be worse, but I’d have to think about it.” She hung up, leaving only a guilt trip in her wake.

  Pearl had talked to her mother six times by four thirty. She was about ready to sign the motel over to Lucy and run away to the Sahara Desert with nothing but a canteen. No cell phone. No computer and no way for her mother to get in touch with her. Lucy had the right idea when she faked her death and got the hell out of Dodge or Kentucky or wherever the hell it was. Would Wil leave his cows and ranch and go with her if she promised him wild sex every night?

  She opened her closet doors and took out a pair of skin-tight jeans, a Western cut lacy blouse that she’d worn to the rodeo the spring before, and her ivory eel cowboy boots. She chose a silver pendant with a crossed set of pistols over angel wings and snapped it onto a chunky necklace of graduated silver beads and went out into the lobby to see what Lucy had to say.

  “Wow! You look like a cowgirl,” Lucy said.

  “I’m hoping my mother thinks the same thing. It’s payback for her drivin’ me crazy all afternoon,” Pearl said.

  “If that’s payback, then what were you going to wear?”

  “A green cocktail dress, but she has pestered the shit out of me all day so she gets the cowgirl me and she hates that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she wanted me to be Miss America. Beauty pageants, fluffy dresses, world peace, and flaming batons.”

  “What did you want to be?”

  Pearl cocked her head to one side. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’d make a wonderful therapist?”

  “Not me. I didn’t even finish high school and them kind of people have to go to college. What did you want to be?”

  “Truth?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “I wanted to be just like Aunt Pearlita. Be my own boss and do my own thing, say what I wanted and to hell with everyone else.”

  “Looks like you got your wish.”

  Pearl grinned. “I did, didn’t I?”

  Wil walked in and caught the last sentence. “You did what? You are stunning.” He crossed the lobby in a few long strides, picked Pearl up, and swung her around several times. “I’ve missed you so bad.”

  “Thank you.” Pearl blushed. “You look pretty damn good yourself and you are right. This separation shit is for the outhouse.”

  He tucked her arm into his.

  “Don’t wait up, Lucy. We might be late.”

  “No, we won’t,” Pearl said. “We’ll be home by ten at the latest, maybe earlier.”

  Lucy waved them both off and went back to the computer where she was reading a Kentucky newspaper. Every day she checked to see if there was any more news about her, and every day she was relieved when nothing happened in her hometown.

  Wil settled Pearl into the passenger’s seat of his pickup and rounded the front end on his way to the driver’s side. She stretched her neck to get a full view of him. Starched Wranglers that fit his sexy butt like a glove and stacked up over his shiny brown cowboy boots; chocolate-colored shirt that matched his eyes; and a deep brown Western cut corduroy jacket. His hair had been cut since they’d gone to Nocona to buy the tractors but it still looked like he’d combed it with his fingers into a devil-may-care look.

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  He leaned across the seat and kissed her hard three time
s. “Don’t be nervous. I promise not to eat with my fingers or pick my nose. Tell me about the folks I’m meeting tonight.”

  “Mother. Tess Landry Richland. The sweetheart of Savannah and runner-up for Miss Georgia when she was in college. The real deal with a singing voice from heaven and big blue eyes. If the other girl hadn’t been a senator’s daughter, Momma would have had the crown and it would be mounted on her tombstone when she dies.”

  Wil chuckled.

  “It’s the God’s honest truth, Wil Marshall.”

  “Okay, now your father.”

  “Daddy is Texan. Cowboy boots. Tailor made Western cut clothes. Not as tall as you, more lanky. Good lookin’ enough to make Momma move to Texas and bitch about it every day. She loves him but nobody is going to ever forget that she left her beloved Savannah for him.”

  Wil couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

  “And Granny who is visiting from Savannah. In the first five minutes she’ll tell you that Momma was a runner-up for Miss Georgia and could have been Miss America. And that she comes to visit in the winter because the Texas heat in the summertime would melt her into her casket.”

  Wil laughed out loud.

  “Don’t laugh yet. There’s still Aunt Kate. That’s Granny’s sister who was the wild one in the family. We think she’s eighty-three because she’s older than Granny and Granny is eighty-one. She will try to seduce you so get ready for it.”

  The laughter stopped. “You are shittin’ me.”

  “Not even a little stink. She will and you’ll have to play along or else she’ll get her feelings hurt and I’ll never hear the end of it. Tell her she’s beautiful and flirt with her. Tell her that I saved your sorry ass from prison and you owe me for it.”

  “Prison! I thought this was all about thanking me for staying up all night with you.”

  “Well, there is that. Aunt Kate will want to really, really thank you.”

  Wil slowed down for the red light in Nocona. “Now you are scaring me.”

  She laughed. “I can’t do it. I thought I could. Aunt Kate is very prim and proper. She really is over eighty and none of us will ever see her birth certificate, and we’ve been told that if we put her age in the newspaper obituary when she dies she will haunt us. But she won’t make a play for you. She and Granny will bicker about how handsome you are right in front of you, but they are true blue old southern gals.”