by Ann Charles
He chuckled. “That gal is a stick of ol’ dynamite just waiting for a young ‘Sparky’ like you to come along. What’d ya do now to piss her off? Tell her the sky is blue?”
“I tried to save Cornelius from her clutches.”
“You’d have better luck lassoing a dust devil. Is Corny broken now?”
“The opposite, actually.” At least I was pretty sure that was the case.
“Yer kiddin’.”
“Not kidding. She made his antennae spin around for a few heartbeats, but now he’s picking up all of the usual channels plus a few new ones.”
“Hi, Mom!” Layne raced past me still wearing his school clothes—jeans and a T-shirt with a medieval knight on the front—only to slide to a stop and hit reverse. “Great gad-Zeus!” His hazel eyes were wide as he stared up at my face.
“I think you mean ‘gadzooks,’ kiddo,” I corrected, ruffling his blond hair. He and Doc were a pair with their Zeus exclamations today.
“What happened, Mom? Did you get into a fight at work?”
That was one way of putting it.
“Because if someone is bullying you,” he continued, “Doc can teach you how to defend yourself without getting in trouble with the principal. I mean, your boss.”
“Oh, really?”
Layne nodded. He knew from experience, I figured. Last fall he’d been getting picked on about me being a ghost-lover, or something like that, by a couple of little shits at school and ended up getting suspended for fighting. Doc must have given him some pointers on the side about dealing with bullies.
“I’ll have to ask Doc for help.”
Prudence was certainly a bully by definition, always picking on me about my boorish lineage and lack of intelligence. Maybe Doc could school me on how to make her stop being such a haughty pain in the keister.
“So, did you?” he pressed.
“Did I what?”
“Get into a fight at work?”
“No, honey. I just ran into someone’s elbow by accident.” I didn’t like lying to my kids, even though sometimes skirting the truth was necessary to keep them from waking up screaming in the night like their mother.
Layne’s brow lined. “Maybe you need some glasses like Addy, so you can see better.”
“Maybe.” I wished it was as simple to fix as putting on a pair of glasses. “Did you finish your homework?”
“Does a slug have four noses?” he shot back.
I wrinkled my nose at Harvey, who snickered. “I don’t think I want to look close enough to find out.”
“The answer is yes, Mom.”
“Great. I’m sure that piece of knowledge will save my life someday. Now go wash up for supper.”
“I need to get something from my room first. Harvey says we can eat in the living room on TV trays tonight because the table is going to be full.” He jumped up and down. “Can we, Mom? Please?”
Eating in front of the television was a treat for my kids, because it was much more fun than sitting at the table with boring adult talk. Although, I had a feeling that tonight’s subjects might be very interesting for a boy who was obsessed with medieval weapons and mythical beasts. A little too interesting for his worrywart mother.
“Harvey knows best.” I glanced toward the kitchen. “Where’s Doc?” I needed to blow off some steam, and he was my favorite vent. The Picklemobile had been in the driveway, so he must be around the house somewhere.
“He’s down in the basement with Addy,” Layne answered and rocketed up the stairs.
The pen for Addy’s chicken was kept down in Aunt Zoe’s basement, along with the equipment for Layne’s science experiments, a workbench, and some crates of old toys and whatnot.
I looked to Harvey. “Is something wrong with Elvis?”
I sure hoped not. There was going to be enough drama-filled wailing going on tonight without my daughter joining me because her pet chicken had a few feathers out of joint.
“There’s a lot wrong with that chicken,” Harvey said. “For starters, she’s a chicken who thinks she’s the tall dog of the pack.”
“I meant besides the obvious.”
He shook his head. “I think Addy is telling yer stallion about her plans to fix up the place and build a third story onto that bird’s pen.”
“Sheesh! You’d think that bird was royalty.”
“Well, she does share a name with the king of rock-n-roll.” He thumbed in the direction of the kitchen. “Reid’s making firehouse chili and cast iron skillet cornbread, and we need to set the table.”
I rubbed my stomach. “Cornbread and honey, yum.”
“I want to hear more about your colorful face.”
“I already told you about it.” I tossed my keys in the bowl on the sideboard.
“You told me the how but not the why.” He started for the kitchen.
“Wait.” I caught his arm, lowering my voice before asking, “How’s Aunt Zoe? Is she getting along with Reid?”
While my aunt had invited her old flame to come cook for her, her horns might still be out and poking Reid in the backside.
He shrugged. “She hasn’t ridden in from the range yet.”
“Good.” I frowned toward the kitchen. “You did hide her shotgun shells like we talked about, right?”
He huffed. “You think I spit upwind?”
“I haven’t put much thought into which way you spit.”
“Well, I don’t, and the first thing I did when I brought your whippersnappers home was find that box of shells and tuck ’em away in your underwear drawer.”
I cocked my head. “My underwear drawer?”
His two gold teeth shined through his whiskers. “Yep.”
What the planets? “Why there?”
“I wanted to see if your skivvies had company.”
“What sort of company?” Was he talking about a live mouse, like the one Addy’s cat, Bogart, had dragged into my room last month and left as a wakeup gift?
“The sort of company that comes with a pocket in the front for a love plunger.”
It took me a blink to realize what he was talking about, and then my cheeks warmed. “Harvey, whether Doc shares an underwear drawer with me is none of your business.”
“It is, too.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m living at yer stallion’s place. Until my ranch sells, I need to know if me and Red are going to have to up and move any time before the snow stops flying.”
I swallowed a walnut of guilt, being that I was Harvey’s real estate agent and not having any luck finding someone to look at his place, let alone put an offer on it.
“So, if Doc’s underwear is sharing a drawer with mine …” I trailed off with raised brows.
“Then I figure he ain’t gonna be anxious to return home anytime soon, so Red and I can sit comfortable for a spell longer.”
“Doc wouldn’t kick you out even if he wasn’t spending every night here.”
“I know, but sometimes a man likes to ride along solo for a time, ’specially one who’s spent most of his life as a loner out on the trail.”
Harvey’s words tapped into one of my insecurities when it came to Doc. My kids and I probably made the longtime bachelor feel like there wasn’t enough room to change his mind without stepping outside on the porch. Maybe I needed to kick Doc out of my bed a few times a week to let him enjoy some time away from me and my madhouse.
To Harvey I said, “I’ll let you know when Doc’s and my underwear start cohabitating.”
“Red and I appreciate it.” He hit me with a squint. “And don’t go makin’ a mess with Doc in the meantime.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your pretty mama told me all about your track record with men.” He made a small explosion sound and then fluttered his fingers away.
I cursed Harvey and my mom in one long, heated breath, ending it with a foot stomp for emphasis.
“Woo wee, girlie. You need to go wash your hand
s and your mouth before supper.” He shoved me toward the downstairs bathroom.
I washed my hands and frowned at the woman in the mirror. Between the blast of frigid wind blowing my curls free of the combs I had tucked into the rest of my rat’s nest and the colorful bruises now covering the upper right quarter of my face, I looked like I’d spent the afternoon wrestling a troop of mad monkeys.
Wetting my fingers, I tried to tame a few curls before giving up on my wild hair. As for my face, short of wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask, there was no hiding the results of my meeting with Prudence.
Reid and Harvey were the only two in Aunt Zoe’s happy yellow kitchen when I waltzed through the arched entryway. Harvey was messing around in the open refrigerator, grunting and muttering in the process, while Reid stood at the stove where he was stirring what must be his firehouse chili in a big saucepot.
“Hi, Sparky,” Reid called out, smiling my way.
Deadwood’s fire captain looked nice and rugged this evening in his jeans and red flannel shirt. He wore Harvey’s green and white striped “Life’s short, moon the cook!” apron that I’d bought the ornery old coot for Christmas. Aunt Zoe was missing out. She should be in here sitting at the table and enjoying the view instead of slaving out in her workshop with her blowpipe, jacks, and paddles.
“Yabba dabba, I sure do love the sight of a man in an apron.” I joined Reid, licking my chops at the bubbling goodness in the pot. “It smells delicious in here. Thanks for making supper.”
“It’s the least I can do after all the meals I’ve eaten at your aunt’s table.” He grabbed an oven mitt from the counter next to him, pausing to give me a thorough once-over with his blue-blue eyes. His salt-and-pepper mustache twitched. “So, who won the fight? You or the other guy?”
“The other guy.”
“Hell, here I thought Zo taught you to lead with an uppercut to the jaw.” He pointed a wooden spoon at my cheek. “You need to put some ice on that.”
“So I hear.” I glanced around to make sure the coast was clear. “Speaking of Aunt Zoe,” I spoke in a hushed voice, “any talk so far of filling your ass with buckshot?”
He smirked. “Not yet, but the night is young. She hasn’t come out of her workshop yet. I sent Addy out earlier to give her an estimated time when the food would be ready.”
“Smart man. Send in the children first to soften her up.”
He winked. “My momma didn’t raise no fool.”
Harvey grabbed my hand and plopped a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dish towel in it. “Next time you should probably take me with you, girlie.”
“But you don’t like going to see Prudence.”
“You can borrow money on that.” He took my hand with the peas and lifted it to my face for me. “Keep that against your face and have a seat at the table.”
I adjusted the makeshift ice pack. The coolness eased the throbbing a tad. “I thought I was helping you set the table.”
“I changed my mind about wantin’ your help. Now quit droolin’ in the chili and let Martin finish cookin’.”
Before I had a chance to sit, the basement door opened and Addy shot out, her straight blond hair framing her pink cheeks.
“Hi, Mom!” She was looking down, brushing feathers off her purple kitty-decorated sweater as she talked. “Doc says he’ll help me build the addition to Elvis’s pen and it will have a loft with a chicken couch and a— Aaahhh!” She screeched when she looked up at me, her eyes big and round behind her glasses. “Gosh all frighty! Did you fall down and hit your face?”
“No, Adelynn. I’m not that clumsy.”
“Sometimes you are.” She reached up to touch my cheek, but I batted her hand away. “Remember the other morning when you fell going up the stairs and landed on your hip?”
“That was because my slipper got caught in my robe.”
“What about last week, when you punched yourself in the mouth putting me to bed?”
“I was trying to pull up your quilt. It was stuck between the bed and the wall.”
“And then there was yesterday when you spilled coffee down your—”
“Okay, so maybe I’m a little clumsy at times, but I did not do this to myself.” Actually, I was the one pulling on Zelda before we fell, so I sort of did it to myself. “Not on purpose, anyway.”
“Does it hurt?”
Yes, damn it, but Addy didn’t need to know that or she’d be mothering me all night. At least the painkillers I’d popped earlier when I got back to my SUV after spying on Detective Hawke were dulling the pain a little.
“Only when I touch it.” I adjusted the towel-wrapped bag of peas higher on my cheek. “But icing it will help a lot.” At least I hoped so. I changed the subject. “Do you really think Elvis needs that much space in her pen? She’s only one chicken.”
She smiled extra big, her dimples showing as she batted her blond eyelashes at me. I knew that look too well. It was the same look she often hit me with when she wanted a candy bar while we were in line to pay at the grocery store. “I read that the happier you keep your chicken, the more eggs she’ll lay.”
“Are we in need of more eggs?”
“Doc says that eggs are a lot better when they’re fresh.”
Did he now? I had a feeling Addy had been flashing her dimples and batting her eyelashes at him down in the basement, too. “Is Doc still downstairs?”
“Yep. He’s trying to fix the light. You know, the one that keeps flickering.”
I did. “Go wash your hands. Supper is almost ready.”
“I already washed them once.”
“Do it again to make your mother happy, please.” As she started out of the kitchen, I called, “Did you get your homework done?”
“Yep. Harvey helped me.”
I pointed at the old buzzard who was pulling drinking glasses from the cupboard. “I owe you one.”
He snorted. “You owe me a helluva lot more than one.”
“Put it on my tab. I’m going to go check on Doc.” I set the bag of frozen peas on the counter for now.
“Sure ya are.” Harvey winked at me. “Just don’t take too long checkin’ on him. I don’t want to have to wait for you kids to finish neckin’ to eat.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Doc and I are capable of conversing without any hanky-panky involved, you know.”
“Sure, but you two like to do the hokey-pokey whenever you’re alone, and I’m too hungry tonight to wait for Doc to finish shaking it all about before I can eat.”
Reid let out a bark of laughter.
Fighting a grin, I detoured on my way to the basement and snapped Harvey’s suspenders. “Set the damned table, dirty bird.”
His chortles followed me down the steps.
I paused halfway down. The basement was dark and smelled like chicken—the living kind, not the mouth-watering rotisserie variety. “Doc?”
“Over here,” he said from the other side of the cool, damp room. He aimed a flashlight at my feet. “Careful on the stairs.”
I held onto the wall as I made my way down to the cobblestone floor, careful not to fall on my face and give Addy another example of my clumsiness. “Did you figure out what’s wrong with the light?”
Something clinked in the dark. “It’s probably just a bad ballast. How about you come over here to the breaker box and hold my flashlight, Boots?”
I chuckled at his flirting tone.
He shined the beam along the floor, lighting a path to reach him. Elvis clucked at me as I crossed in front of her pen. Doc handed me the flashlight when I joined him.
“Oh, you meant that flashlight,” I joked.
In the dim light, I could see his teasing grin. “Why, Violet Parker, whatever did you think I meant?” He leaned down and dropped a kiss on my forehead.
“You missed.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to my level, nuzzling his short beard. The darkness surrounding us heightened my senses. I breathed in the scent of his woodsy colog
ne on his neck and made a purring sound in my throat. “You smell like a hunka-hunka burnin’ love, Candy Cane. How was your day?”
Without giving him a chance to answer, I went up on my toes and locked lips with him, using my tongue to remind him why I’d given him that nickname.
“Better now that you’re here,” he said after I’d finished my seduction attempt. Then he kissed me back, taking his sweet time about it, and sent my temperature through the roof.
When he pulled back, I fanned myself. “Va-va-voom! I think you melted my underwear that time.”
He chuckled. “Tell me about your afternoon.”
I’d rather not revisit that train wreck yet. I leaned against him in a full-body press. “How about you kiss me again instead and we—”
“Time to eat, love bugs!” Harvey hollered down from the top of the stairs.
I snarled toward the steps at the interruption.
“Don’t make me come down there with a hose.”
“We’ll be there in a minute, Harvey,” Doc called back.
I stepped back from Doc to keep from being further distracted by his hands and lips, keeping the light aimed at our feet. “I need to tell you something before we head upstairs.”
“Is it about what happened at the Sugarloaf Building with Coop and that little gremlin?”
“Or imp.” I winced in anticipation of Aunt Zoe’s reaction to that particular piece of news. She’d warned me before about imp-like creatures and how tricky they could be. “No.”
“Is it about how things went with Prudence?”
My cheek throbbed on cue. “No.”
“Are you going to tell me who you and Natalie were spying on?”
“Not yet.” I wanted to save that for when Cooper showed up, which I figured was now very likely since I’d texted him before leaving the parking lot behind Calamity Jane’s, informing him that Natalie was coming for supper.
He crossed his arms. “I’m out of guesses, Killer.”
“I ran into Rex today.”
“Ah hell.” The heavy shadows made his frown lines look extra deep.
“He was in the parking lot when I returned from the Sugarloaf Building.”
“What does he want now?” There was no missing the disgust in Doc’s voice.
“He’s pissed at me because he didn’t get that promotion. You know, the one he wanted to use me and the kids to land. Now he’s stuck here longer and swears he’s going to make me pay.”