Nikki had told the story twice already—once to the sheriff and then to Tag—but there were certain details she’d left out. The sheriff didn’t need to know how bad Billy Tom smelled or the way he made her skin crawl when he leered at her, and neither did Tag.
“Okay, it all actually started Monday night when I went to see Mama.” Tears streamed down her face as she told Emily what her mother had said about never wanting her and wishing her father had taken her with him rather than leaving her behind.
“Oh. My. God!” Emily gasped. “I knew Wilma had mental issues but that’s downright cruel.”
Nikki pulled a tissue from a box on the end table and blew her nose. “Then I read everything in that box of letters and cards from my father.” She pointed. “There’s probably three or four thousand dollars in those cards. Every birthday, Valentine’s Day, Christmas, graduation for the past fifteen years, he sent me a hundred-dollar bill. I’m going to see him on Wednesday, and Tag is going with me.”
“Good.” Emily took the ice cream back to the freezer and put on a pot of coffee. “Go on.”
“I couldn’t sleep, and I wouldn’t call you because it was way late at night, so I went to the cabin and wound up sleeping on the sofa.” Nikki went on with the story from there.
Little by little, word by word, from friend to friend, it all came out, and when she had finished the telling, Nikki felt something like closure. Not the kind that she needed where her dad was concerned, but hopefully that would come later.
“After all that, you’ve got to come home with me, or at least stay at the cabin with Tag,” Emily said.
“If I beg, will you let Tag sleep on the sofa here in your apartment for a while?”
“I’ll be fine right here,” Nikki insisted. “And no, you can’t stay either. You belong in bed with your husband.”
“Okay, okay!” Emily put up both hands. “You’re mean and tough and you don’t take no shit off nobody.”
“Just like John Wayne,” Nikki giggled.
“I should be getting home. Oh, I almost forgot,” Emily said. “We’re having brunch tomorrow morning at ten for you and the Fab Five. They’ve been every bit as worried as I have. And you’ll have to tell the whole story one more time. Claire is going to close up shop for a couple hours so she can be there too, and Retta is coming.”
“Want me to come early and help get things ready?” Nikki asked.
“That would be great.” Emily gave her a kiss on the cheek and disappeared outside.
“It’s just you and me now, Goldie. Did you miss me?” Nikki asked as she plugged her phone into the charger. “Of course you did. I’m the one with the fish food.”
She sat down on the sofa and called her mother.
“Why are you calling me? This isn’t Monday,” Wilma said.
“Did you hear that I was kidnapped?” Nikki asked.
“They had a prayer circle at church. Guess God heard them because you’re home, right?” Wilma asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Then we’ll talk Monday like we always do.” Wilma ended the call.
Nikki sighed and bit back tears, reminding herself that her mother was ill, and nothing Nikki did or said would change that.
Her phone rang, and thinking it might be her mother with an explanation for hanging up on her, she didn’t even look at the caller ID.
“Nikki, we’re calling it a day,” Tag said. “We ran out of fence posts and the place we get them is closed until tomorrow. Are you sure I can’t stay with you?”
“I’m fine. Really, I am. If I don’t see you again, good luck on that bull tomorrow night,” she said.
“Thanks, but you’ll see me before that. Good night,” Tag said.
“Night, Tag,” she said.
She was truly now in her nest as Emily called it. Her phone was working. Her pistol was on the counter just in case. And she felt almost as safe as she did when she snuggled up to Tag in the bed at the hotel.
Chapter Twenty
The Fab Five—Otis, Larry, Sarah, Bess, and Patsy—came into Emily’s new house that morning like a whirlwind.
“Are you okay? I don’t mind spending the rest of my years in jail if you want me to kill that sumbitch.” Otis was the first one to reach Nikki and hug her.
Otis and Larry had always reminded her of the two old cartoon characters Mutt and Jeff. Otis was short with a round face and a mischievous look in his eyes, and Larry was the opposite—tall and lanky.
“Me neither,” Larry declared. “And I’m meaner’n Otis. I’ll make him suffer.” He bent to hug Nikki.
“Thank you, both, but he’s locked up and far away.” She peeked around Larry. “Where’re the ladies?”
“Right here, darlin’.” Sarah patted her gray hair as she entered the dining room. “Damn wind. I just got my hair done yesterday. I didn’t know them two could move so fast. At home they can barely get up and down off the kitchen chairs.” Like Larry, she was tall and thin and had to bend to give Nikki a hug.
“We had to hurry,” Otis said. “Once y’all get in here, we wouldn’t have a chance.”
“Or to get a word in.” Larry nodded.
“You’ve had your time. It’s mine now.” Patsy wiggled her round body between Sarah and Nikki. Not any taller than Nikki, she was the firecracker of the Five. Her short, kinky hair was dyed red, and trouble followed her around like a puppy.
Patsy and Bess were twins, but they were as different as night and day. Bess wore her gray hair in two long braids twisted around her head, but she and Patsy were built alike and had the same eyes. Attitude was what made them different.
A lot like Hud and Tag, Nikki thought as Bess finally got her turn to give her a hug. Tag is the rebellious one like Patsy. Hud is the grounded one like Bess.
“Honey, they’re all a bunch of hot wind. You want something done, you leave it to me. I won’t go to jail because I won’t get caught,” Bess told her.
“I appreciate y’all so much.” If only her mother could be as supportive as these folks.
None of them have the mental issues your mother has. Was that her father’s voice she was hearing? It would have been better if you’d had a different childhood, but her example was a lesson in how to not live your life.
She stood very still, but evidently that was all that her father had to say for now.
“Brunch is on the bar. It’s buffet style,” Emily said. “We have champagne and orange juice for mimosas, but no more than one for each of you.”
“This is a celebration,” Otis said. “Nikki lived through a life-threatening ordeal. We should get at least two.”
“One.” Emily held up a forefinger. “Besides, by the time we each have one, the champagne will be all gone.”
“Then I’ll take Bess’s,” Patsy said. “When I hear this story, I’m sure I’ll need it.”
“Over my dead body,” Bess declared.
“Someone can have mine,” Retta said as she and Claire arrived through the back door. “I’ll be glad when this little girl gets here so I can have a beer again.”
“It’ll be a year past her birth before you can do that if you breastfeed,” Sarah said. “I’ve been readin’ up on birthin’ and breastfeedin’ and all that, just in case we have to help you. Never know when a tornado will come blastin’ through the state, blow a tree down over the road to the hospital, and we’ll need to deliver the baby.”
“I did that once,” Bess said. “Our neighbor’s wife went into labor during a blizzard and they couldn’t get to the doctor. Wound up at our place and I helped Mama deliver the baby. Patsy fainted.”
“It wasn’t because of that. The room was too hot, and I hadn’t eaten supper. That’s what made me get weak in the knees,” Patsy protested as she loaded her plate and headed for the table. “We’re not here to talk about the one weak moment in my life. We need to hear the whole story about what Nikki had to live through.”
Nikki carried the chilled champagne and the carafe of orange j
uice to the table and filled the fluted glasses. “It was hair-raising at the time, but looking back, I think Billy Tom wanted me to believe he was a tornado, but the truth is that he’s just a big bag of wind.”
Patsy giggled and gave her another hug. “That’s the spirit, darlin’.”
They all took their places and she went on to tell the story for what seemed like the hundredth time. When she finished with the part about hitting him with a gallon jug of motor oil, Otis clapped his hands and said, “That’s my girl. I wish it would’ve broken open and gotten all over him.”
“Would’ve been poetic justice to have a slime ball like that all slick with oil,” Larry agreed.
“I wish you’d have had on your cowboy boots. That would have put his balls all the way to his throat,” Patsy said.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Claire asked. “I remember when Levi came through the cabin door and scared the bejesus out of me and my niece last winter. I can’t imagine how I’d have reacted if he’d been like Billy Tom.”
“You’d have shot him,” Nikki said. “You had a gun trained right on his chest if I heard the story right. If I’d had my gun, Billy Tom would be dead instead of sobering up in a jail cell.”
“Have you had any nightmares?” Retta asked as she poured herself a second glass of orange juice and passed it off to Nikki.
“First two nights I did.” Nikki set the carafe on the table, and opted for a second cup of coffee. “But last night I was in my own nest, as Emily calls my apartment, and I slept fine.”
“I bet your mama was worried out of her mind,” Bess said.
“My mama”—Nikki took a deep breath—“has severe mental problems. She’s OCD and she’s a hypochondriac. Lately, she’s even gotten paranoid and she’s pretty negative. I never said anything about it before, because I don’t want anyone to think I might be like that too.”
“Wouldn’t that make her even more worried?” Sarah asked.
Nikki’s smile was forced. “Mama is too self-centered to worry about anyone other than herself and her schedule.”
“Well, honey, you got three mamas right here,” Patsy said. “And we were all worried plumb crazy.”
“And us two old grandpas here, we wanted to load our shotguns and come after you, but Emily wouldn’t let us. She said Tag and her cop brother would take care of it, and she was right,” Otis said. “And you old hens need to look at the clock. If you’re going to get to the beauty shop on time, we should be going.”
Patsy poked Otis on the arm. “Don’t you call me an old hen.”
“That’s better than callin’ you a sow or a heifer, ain’t it,” Larry chuckled.
“You try that and I’ll poison you,” Bess told him. “But Otis is right. We need to get going. I feel bad that we don’t have time to help with cleanup.”
Retta patted her on the shoulder. “Honey, we’ll have this put to order in no time with four of us working at it. Y’all go get beautified. You might be called upon if a tornado knocks down a tree, and I need some help delivering this baby.”
“You just call and we’ll be here if we have to ride the tornado’s tail wind to get here,” Sarah said. “Y’all are the kids we never got to have, and we love you all.”
Nikki passed Retta a napkin when she got all misty eyed. She dabbed at her eyes and said, “I appreciate that so much. My baby girl is going to have lots of sweet grandparents.”
Emily followed the Five out to the porch. When she returned, the other three women had the table cleared and were busy loading the dishwasher. “We’ve got to put them on the list to call as soon as you go into labor, Retta. They want to be there when the baby is born.”
“Good Lord!” Retta gasped. “The waiting room will be overflowing.”
“What waiting room?” Tag poked his head in the door and then led the other three guys into the house. “I’m not planning on getting hurt tonight, so y’all don’t have to reserve a waiting room.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, Taggart Baker, but the world does not revolve around you,” Emily said.
“Ouch! That had to sting.” Maverick grinned.
“Don’t tell him there’s no Santa Claus too,” Hud teased. “He couldn’t take that much heavy news all in one day.”
“And be very, very quiet about the Easter Bunny,” Paxton whispered.
Tag removed his hat and held it over his chest. “Y’all are breakin’ my poor little heart, talkin’ like that. But if you’ll feed us the leftovers from your party this mornin’, I’ll forgive you, sis.”
Emily pointed to the bar. “You’re welcome to what’s left. The mimosas are all gone, but there’s a gallon of sweet tea in the fridge. Help yourselves.”
“Okay if we wash up here in the kitchen?” Maverick asked.
“Sure.” Emily nodded.
Hud rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll go first.”
“I’m not above stealing food off your plate if you don’t leave anything for us,” Maverick said, getting in line behind Hud. “I haven’t had a good quiche since we left the panhandle.”
Paxton elbowed his brother in the ribs. “Real men don’t eat quiche.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale,” Maverick told him. “Real men eat whatever they want, and if anyone says anything about it, they beat the shhh…crap out of them.”
Tag got in line at the very end, which put him right next to where Nikki was standing. “Did you sleep all right last night?”
“Yes, I did,” she said. “You?”
“Not worth a damn. Kept waking up and worrying about you. You could let me stay at your place or you could stay in the cabin, just to help me out,” he said.
“We heard there was a party here.” Justin came through the door and joined the crowd.
“So did we,” Levi said right behind him.
Cade brought up the rear. “And we thought we’d help get rid of leftovers.”
Nikki looked at what food was left: part of a pan of quiche, half a pan of cinnamon rolls, and very little fruit in a bowl. The bacon platter was empty and the biscuits were all gone. There wasn’t nearly enough to feed that many hungry cowboys.
“Good thing I’m prepared for emergencies,” Emily said. “Justin, be a darlin’, and help me bring out the second round for these late comers.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stopped to give her a kiss on the forehead. “And since we crashed the party, we’ll do cleanup afterwards.”
“What can I do to help?” Hud asked.
“Follow me,” Justin said.
“Please let me stay with you, for my own peace of mind,” Tag whispered in Nikki’s ear.
“I go to work at midnight tonight and don’t get off until my last shift ends at midnight on Sunday. I’ll be fine,” Nikki said. “But you are still plannin’ to go with me on Wednesday, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, and is it all right if I come over at eight on Monday? That’s after you talk to your mama, right?”
“Of course. I’ll make supper for us,” she said.
“I’ll be there on the dot.” He grinned. “Looks like it’s my turn to wash up. I wanted to hug you or kiss you or both when I came into the kitchen, but I’ve been working outside all morning, and I’m not fit.”
Nikki started to hug him, but he turned away too quickly and headed for the sink. Emily and Justin brought out four more quiches from the pantry, and Hud carried in a large pan of biscuits.
“How’d you keep that warm?” Nikki asked.
“There’s a warming oven in there. I had all this finished and warming when you got here this morning. I knew the guys were all coming around to eat,” Emily answered. “Justin, honey, if you’ll bring out the crockpot of sausage gravy, I’ll get the platter of bacon, and we’ll see just how hungry seven old cowboys really are.”
“You are amazing,” Nikki said.
“She grew up on a ranch,” Hud said.
“But I’m still amazing,” Emily teased.
“Yes, you are.”
Tag slung an arm around her shoulders. “And we love you best when you make us food.”
Nikki slipped back into the corner so she could enjoy the huge family and all the banter between them. This was exactly what she’d want if she could be absolutely certain that once she had children, she wouldn’t feel about them what her mother felt about her.
Tag came in fourth place with the bronc riding that evening. That didn’t get him a prize, but it wasn’t too shabby. When he finished his ride, he spent the better part of the rest of the evening sitting on a sawhorse right outside Fumanchu’s pen, trying to getting to know the big bull. The beast glared at Tag as if he were trying to get a feel for his next challenge, but Tag stared right back at him without blinking.
“I don’t care if you throw me halfway to the stars and I land on my head coming back down,” Tag told him. “I don’t even care if I can’t hang on for eight seconds. If I can make it for two point seven seconds like the song says, I’ll have accomplished something.”
The bull pawed the ground and snorted, and they continued to stare at each other for the next hour.
It was near eleven o’clock when the announcer finally said, “And the last event of the evening is coming up. Y’all remember this?” He played “Live Like You Were Dying,” and the crowd went wild, stomping and singing along, screaming even louder when Fumanchu was mentioned in the song.
“I’m sure that’s where this bull got his name, but few cowboys have had the nerve to crawl on his back, and he’s never been ridden for the full eight seconds,” the guy said. “So let’s give it up for Taggart Baker, who’s agreed to give it a shot.”
“You don’t have to do this.” Hud stepped onto the first board of the corral. “That’s one mean sumbitch.”
“I can’t let the crowd down.” Tag shoved his hands down into his gloves, settled his hat on his head, and eased down from the top board onto the bull’s back. Fumanchu snorted and pawed at the ground, but his big body practically filled the chute, and there was nowhere for him to wiggle and very little room for Tag’s legs.
Cowboy Rebel--Includes a bonus short story Page 19