by Carrie Carr
"You're kind of old to be walking around without a keeper, aren'st you?" Under his breath he mumbled, "Senile old broad."
She raised herself to her full five feet. "Well! I never." Spinning her cart around, the woman beat a hasty retreat down the aisle.
"That's probably your problem, granny!" Rick yelled after her.
Remembering where he was, he looked around cautiously. "Obnoxious old bat. But I can'st afford to lose this job." As he watched the woman leave, he noticed a familiar face passing by the end of the aisle. "Shit. That's just who I need to run into here. I'll never live it down." Rick turned around and continued to neaten the items on the shelf in front of him. He hoped they wouldn'st notice him.
"WELL, WHAT DO you think?" The builder stood by patiently, as Lex opened and closed every cabinet. "Why did you want those built so low, Ms. Walters? You don't seem to have any problem reaching them."
Lex looked over her shoulder at the man and raised one eyebrow. "Although I don't see where it's any of your business, my fiancée isn'st as tall as I am." She bent her knees slightly as she reached for one of the doors again. "This seems about right."
He felt chastised by her comment. "Yes, ma'am. We followed your specifications exactly." He moved to where she stood and tapped the sink with his index finger. "I put in the shallow sink like you asked, although I could have just as easily given you the deeper one."
"And how would a person of smaller stature reach the bottom of the sink, Mr. Wells? Or did you even think about that?" Lex leaned back against the countertop and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't like having my instructions questioned. Do I need to find another builder?"
"No, of course not! I was only trying to--"
She held up a hand in warning. "You were trying to tell me what I wanted. I'm not some stupid female, Wells. don't treat me like one." Lex pushed away from the counter and stormed out of the kitchen.
"No, you're not a stupid woman. Just a rude one. I'm glad this job is almost done."
After taking the stairs two at a time, Lex crossed through the master bedroom and stood at the entrance to the bath. "That's not what I ordered," she stated flatly from her position in the doorway. She leaned against the doorjamb with her arms crossed over her chest.
The heavyset man turned his head to see who had spoken. He was bolting down the porcelain fixture with one hand, while the other reached for a pack of cigarettes lying in his toolbox. He cleared his throat and winked at Lex. "Don't you worry your little head. I'm an expert." He sat back and placed a cigarette in his mouth.
Already angry from the confrontation in the kitchen, Lex stomped over to where he was sitting. Seeing the cans of chemical adhesive, she grabbed the man by his shirtfront and yanked him to his knees. "Obviously, you don't." She grabbed the cigarette and tossed it to the floor. "Don't you dare light one of those things in this house. Especially around all this flammable material. I won'st have another house burn to the ground because of your stupidity!"
"Wait just a damned minute, lady. You can'st talk to me like that." He roughly brushed her hands away and stood. "Who in the hell do you think you are, anyway?"
Lex stepped back, trying to control herself. "Your former employer, asshole. Pack it up and get out," she ground out through clenched teeth. "And take that tiny excuse for a toilet with you." She turned around and stormed from the room. I'm surrounded by incompetent jackasses. It's like I've stepped into Bubbaland.
"Ms. Walters," a feminine voice called from the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, "may I have a moment of your time?"
Lex followed the voice and stood in the doorway. "Yes, Mrs. Compton?"
A short, heavyset woman stood in the middle of the room, a friendly smile on her face. She was about the same age as Martha and was, in fact, good friends with her. Lois started her business after her husband had passed away several years before. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I heard your voice and needed your opinion on something." She took Lex by the arm and led her farther into the room. She waved a couple of scraps of paper under her nose. "I have these two different borders for the wallpaper, and I'm torn as to which would look better in here."
"And you're asking me?" Lex asked incredulously. "You'sve got to be kidding, right?" She gestured at herself. "Do I look like I'd understand which of these, umm, thingies would look better?"
"Give yourself more credit. You have opinions." Lois took both scraps over to the nearest wall and held one of them up. "This one is more masculine, but I think it would look nice in here, depending on how you're going to furnish it, of course." She replaced it with the other piece of paper. "I'm rather fond of this one, although it may be too flowery for your tastes."
"Umm." Lex blinked several times. "We're going to furnish this room with oak; it'll be used primarily as my grandfather's room. I don't think he'd appreciate the second one very much." She tipped her hat and smiled nervously. "If you'll excuse me, ma'am, I've got stock to tend to." Lex hurried from the room, leaving the confused decorator behind.
"I wonder what's wrong with her? You'd think decorating made her nervous, or something."
Escaping to the outside of the house, Lex studied the men who were putting the vinyl siding on the top floor. She and Amanda had agreed on having the new house bricked, but it needed a wood-look on some of the smaller portions. The wood for the wraparound porch had already been treated with a fire-retardant chemical, and the entire house had been given an extensive fire alarm system. Lex wasn'st going to take any chances with Amanda's safety. She didn'st trust her mother Elizabeth not to do something else drastic.
Elizabeth Cauble was in a high-security mental facility in Austin, but Lex was afraid it was only a matter of time before she was released. The psychotic woman had set fire to the ranch house, thinking if she did, Amanda wouldn'st have any place to live and would go back to California with her. She had been considered too unstable to stand trial for her actions, and was instead placed in the State's care.
"Penny for your thoughts."
She turned around at the familiar voice. "Michael. I didn'st expect to see you out here."
He gestured toward the house. "It's looking good. When do you expect to be finished?"
"The decorator is hanging wallpaper. I should be able to start bringing in the furniture early next week." Lex placed her hands in the back pockets of her faded jeans and leaned back slightly. "If you're looking for Amanda, she isn'st here."
"Actually, I came out to see how you were doing. I missed you at the cemetery yesterday. I'm sorry about your father, Lex."
Although his words were sincere, she didn'st know why people wouldn'st leave her alone. "Thanks. But if you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of stuff to do." Lex pushed by him and started around the side of the house. Footsteps behind her caused her to stop and turn. "I appreciate you coming all the way out here, Michael, but go back to town. I'm fine." She spun around and stomped to the barn.
"That went better than I expected." Michael watched as the distraught woman left. "I wish there was something I could do to take the sad look off her face." He turned his attention back to the ranch house. "That's coming along well."
"Isn'st it, though?" a cheerful voice agreed. The woman standing on the front porch brushed her hands down the denim apron she was wearing. "I'm sorry. I don't believe we'sve met. My name's Lois Compton." She met him in front of the house. She held out her hand and smiled brightly. "You'll have to forgive my appearance, I'm finishing the wallpaper in the bedrooms."
Meeting the woman halfway, Michael shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Compton. I'm Michael Cauble."
Understanding dawned on her lovely features. "Of course. You're Amanda's father, right? And please, call me Lois."
"That's me." It was a new feeling, being associated as his daughter's father, instead of the other way around. But Michael found, to his delight, he enjoyed it. "Should I be worried you'sve heard of me, Lois?"
"Oh, no. Amanda's had nothing but wonderfu
l things to say about you, Mr. Cauble. Your daughter is very fond of you."
"I'm a very lucky man, and call me Michael."
"All right, Michael. Are you busy at the moment?"
"Umm, no. Is there something I can help you with?"
"As a matter of fact, there is. I need a man." Seeing the color drain from his face, she blushed. "Oh, dear. I've definitely put my foot in my mouth, haven'st I?" She grabbed his arm and began to drag him across the porch. "I'm trying to decide on the paper for the guestroom, and I would appreciate a man's view of things. Poor Lexington ran out of here like her tail end was on fire when I asked for her opinion."
Michael was amused at that thought. "I can understand why. From what I've learned about Lex, she's not much for decorating." He allowed her to lead him through the house. "So, tell me how you got into the interior decorating business," he asked, as they started up the stairs.
"I DON'T BELIEVE it," Wanda Skimmerly whispered with a smile on her face. Her eyes took in the sight before her and sparkled with glee. Nudging her husband's shoulder, she pointed down the aisle. "Take a look."
With a resigned sigh, the man followed his wife's line of sight. His interest suddenly peaked when he saw the man she was referring to. "Hey, isn'st that--"
"Rick Thompson." She couldn'st believe her good fortune. "Let's go say hello." She turned the shopping cart around and headed for the unsuspecting man.
Hearing a cart stop behind him, Rick was almost afraid to turn around. He hoped it was only someone else who needed directions. Before he could work up the courage to face the unidentified shopper, he heard a familiar voice that caused a deep flush to spread over his face. "Shit."
"Rick Thompson. As I live and breathe! I never thought I'd see you in here," Wanda gushed, her delight at finding her former manager evident in her tone. "As a matter of fact, ever since you left the real estate office, I haven'st seen you around anywhere."
He turned. "Wanda, Dirk. It is a small world, isn'st it?" Rick brushed his hands across the bright red apron he was wearing. "I'm helping out my nephew for a while. They were running shorthanded, and I couldn'st tell the boy no."
Wanda wasn'st fooled for a moment. She'd heard the rumors around town. Rick hadn'st been able to get a job anywhere, not even working cleanup at the meat packing plant. "That's wonderful of you, Rick. What else are you doing with yourself these days?" She couldn'st resist tweaking her old boss.
He ran a nervous hand through his thinning hair. "I've, uh, got a couple of things lined up. But I postponed them until I could bail Kenny out of this bind."
"I see." Wanda was about to continue her interrogation, but her husband grabbed her arm and began to lead her away.
"Nice seeing you again, Rick," he said, pushing the babbling woman down the aisle. "Take care."
"I wasn'st finished," she complained loudly.
"Oh, yes you were." He pushed her and the cart to the checkout line. "Come on, leave the poor man alone."
Wanda positioned the heavily laden cart at the end of the line and turned to look at her husband. "Poor man? Do you have any idea the h-e-double hockey sticks he put poor Amanda Cauble through? Not to mention some of the other women in the office. Why, I could tell you stories that would make your toes curl."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you could, dear." Dirk resigned himself to an evening of hearing all about the goings on at Sunflower Realty. Again.
AMANDA LOCKED THE front door to the real estate office, thankful the day was finally over. The paperwork stacked on her desk took most of her day. She looked at her watch as she walked to where her car was parked. She hoped Lex would be back at the rental house by the time she got home.
Amanda was about to leave the parking lot when another car blocked her path. An image of their truck being forced off the road and into the accident, which had injured both her and Lex flashed through her mind. Not recognizing the vehicle, she felt her heart speed up. Shielding her eyes against the setting sun, she could only make out the outline of the person was walking to her car. When the large hand beat against her side window, she screamed.
"DAMNED NO-GOOD, rotten, worthless piece of shit-eating sorry excuse for a jack!" Lex kicked the offending device. Her truck was parked on the side of the deserted road, the right front tire flat. She leaned into the vehicle and brought out the owner's manual. "How the hell do they expect you to raise a three-quarter ton truck with a friggin's jack that wouldn'st lift a tricycle?" Wiping her dirty hands on her jeans, she flipped through the book. "Shit!" She tossed the book back into the truck and slammed the door, hard. Breathing heavily, Lex looked down the dark road. "I'm going to get me a piece of those stupid-assed builders, leaving nails all over the damned place."
She had spent the majority of her day at the ranch house, demanding corrections from several different subcontractors.
The sun had set, and had taken any warmth from the day with it. Lex shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. She had worked up a sweat before she left the ranch, and the damp shirt clung to her clammy skin. Not for the first time this evening, Lex wished for her cellular phone, which was comfortably resting in her coat--the same coat hanging in the entry closet of the rented house. "Of all the stupid, dumbass things to do, forgetting my phone has got to be on the top of the friggin's list!" Kicking at the pebbles alongside the road, she went back to the jack, which was lying in the dirt beside the flat tire. "Guess I'll keep trying. It's got to work sometime."
Half an hour and several skinned knuckles later, Lex finally finished changing the flat tire. Tired and dirty, she tried to open the passenger door. It was locked. "Shit." Leaning her forehead against the window, she could see the keys dangling from the ignition. "Perfect. What else could possibly go wrong?"
An ominous drumbeat of thunder rumbling overhead provided her answer.
THE SHADOW STANDING outside Amanda's car reached for the handle of the door. She lunged to lock the door but missed, cursing her luck as it swung open slowly. "Whatever it is you want, just--" She began to climb quickly to the passenger seat to get away from her nameless attacker.
"Amanda? What's the matter?" Michael knelt and reached out to his daughter, whose face had gone pale.
"Dad?" Amanda rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and almost knocking her father to the ground. "You. You. Oh, God!" She buried her face against his neck and held on tightly.
Concerned, Michael held his daughter, rubbing her back with soothing motions of his hand. "I thought you knew it was me. I didn'st mean to frighten you."
"I'm sorry. I didn'st recognize the car, and because of where the sun was I couldn'st see you clearly. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to show you my new car."
"I knew I didn'st recognize it." She allowed him to help her to her feet. "What kind is it?"
Michael led his daughter to the beige vehicle. "Well, it's not completely new, but it's new to me. I figured Dad would want his Suburban back." Jacob allowed his son to borrow the vehicle whenever he needed, but Michael wanted to become more self-sufficient. He opened the driver's door and motioned for her to sit inside. "It's a ninety-seven Buick LeSabre, one owner, and only has twelve thousand miles."
"It's nice," she commented, putting her hands on the steering wheel and leaning back into the plush seat. "Kind of big, though, isn'st it?"
"I needed something to haul all my camera equipment around in, and a friend of your grandmother's wanted someone to take it off her hands. So I got a nice car out of the deal, and the payments are within my budget. It looks brand new, doesn'st it?"
Amanda enjoyed her father's enthusiasm. "It certainly does. When do I get a ride in it?"
"Scoot over, kiddo. I'll take you for a spin."
They had ridden for several minutes when Amanda remembered the favor she had asked of her father. "Did you get a chance to talk to Lex today?"
"I tried. She's got a lot of hurt going on inside."
"What do you mean?" Amanda asked, wor
ry in her voice. She turned her body so she could watch her father as he drove. "What happened?"
Rounding the corner back to the real estate office, Michael parked next to the light blue Mustang. He shut off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt, sliding around to face Amanda. "I caught her as she was coming out of the house this afternoon, and tried to talk to her. She wasn'st in a very talkative mood."
Amanda closed her eyes, almost feeling her lover's pain. "No, she probably wouldn'st be. I'm sorry. I shouldn'st have asked you to try to talk to her."
"You have nothing to be sorry about." Michael grasped one of her hands. "And if you think I'm giving up after one measly attempt, you're sadly mistaken." His eyes sparkled with emotion. "I owe that young woman quite a lot. If it wasn'st for her, I wouldn'st be here."
"I'm glad you can think of it that way. If she hadn'st sold all of her stock in your company, you wouldn'st be broke, either."
"I'm richer than I ever was, Amanda. I have the love of my children and the respect of my parents, and I'm finally doing what I've always wanted to do." He leaned forward until they were inches apart. "And I'm driving a nice car, too."
She laughed in spite of her worry over Lex. "You're crazy." Hearing the rumble of thunder, Amanda looked at the sky. "I hope she's already home. I'd hate to think of Lex driving in a thunderstorm." Her protective instincts had grown since their accident on New Year's Eve.
"She's a big girl. But, I guess I'll let you go home and find out."
"Thanks, Dad," Amanda hugged him. "Are you going over to Gramma's for dinner tonight?" She knew her father took a lot of his meals at his parents's house. Amanda personally thought he was making up for all the years they had spent apart. She was surprised to see Michael blush. "What?"
He suddenly found the steering wheel fascinating. "Umm, no. I've got a..." His last word was unintelligible.