by Anna Jeffrey
Spring break. He had gone back to the ranch to spend the off time. Tammy was home from TCU. He picked her up for a date and in the front seat of his truck, she returned his ring. Just like that. No quarrel, no previous discussion. She confessed that she had been seeing Ian Harper, a pro golfer from England who was in the States playing on the pro circuit. Drake and she both had met him at a golf tournament. She didn’t say she was already sleeping with him, but even as dumb about women as he had been as a kid, he didn’t have to be slapped in the face with a wet towel.
He took the ring home and gave it to his mother. To this day he didn’t know where it was. Probably locked away somewhere. He had paid thousands for it with money from the trust fund gifted to him by his grandfather.
In the days that followed, he increasingly couldn’t abide his surroundings, felt as if ants were crawling under his skin. He couldn’t stand the looks of sympathy from his friends and family, didn’t want to share his pain with his prying mother. He didn’t even wait for the end of
spring break. He pulled himself together and went back to his apartment in Dallas.
He sleepwalked through the rest of the semester. Still, he somehow graduated with a 4.0. Even with a broken heart, he was too responsible to betray his parents by fucking up the education the ranch had paid for.
When summer came, he returned to the Double-Barrel and moved into the bunkhouse where the unmarried ranch hands lived, gave himself over to learning to be a cowboy from Silas Morgan.
To a man, the hands looked at him with a jaundiced eye, but with steely resolve, he worked with them seven days a week. Ate and slept with them. They gave him no mercy. Eventually he proved himself and they accepted him as a peer. In time, they even invited him when they went to town on Saturday nights.
He scarcely entered the ranch house, had little contact with his parents or his siblings. Later he learned his dad had stopped his mother when she wanted to intervene, saying, “Leave him alone. He’s growing up.” Back then, his mother still listened to what her husband said.
Drake had done more than grow up. He had worked harder than he had ever worked before or since. Even when he had previously cowboyed for his dad, he hadn’t born the full brunt of the job of being a cowboy. That tumultuous summer after graduation, he learned that he and his brothers and sister had mostly been seen as the boss’s namby-pamby spoiled kids and were barely tolerated by the real cowboys. He hated that.
He had never been inclined to fight, but a deep-seated anger festered inside him. His temper flared at the slightest provocation and he rarely lost a fight. On the face of every man he tangled with, he saw the image of Ian Harper. He met a woman fifteen years older in a bar in a neighboring town. He gave up fighting in bars and spent his free time in her bed engaged in vine-swinging sex that pushed what had gone on between him and Tammy McMillan far back in his imagination.
College might have taught him discipline and critical thinking, but real work and the real world toughened his hide and hardened his body. He learned the meaning of responsibility and self-reliance and how to make decisions on the fly. He had begun that summer as a boy, but had ended it as a man. Annealed. Ready for life.
He had gone back to SMU’s renowned Cox Business School and earned his MBA in record time. Armed with that and what was left of his trust fund, he had jumped into the pulsating world of high-stakes real estate in the Metroplex. He could have lost all of it, but he hadn’t. Instead, he had made his own fortune.
By dumping him and moving on, Tammy McMillan had done him a favor.
He opened his eyes and glanced at his watch. Shit, he had to get to bed.
Chapter 35
The next morning Drake got up early. He drove to Southlake, stewing the whole distance. He considered breaking the date he had made with Tammy, but he didn’t have her phone number. He thought about just not showing up, but how rude would that be? He would feel like a coward who had no discipline and he would never hear the end of it from Mom.
How would Shannon react if she knew what he had done last night or what he planned to do today. He thought of calling her, but decided against it. If he couldn’t explain to himself why he was going to a ballgame with his former fiancé, how could he explain it to his lover? If she asked about his activities, he didn’t know what he would tell her and he didn’t want to lie to her. When he reached his job site, he sent her a text: Just saying hi. Busy.
After lining out his crew, he returned to Fort Worth and met Tammy at Benjamin’s as planned. She looked fresh and beautiful. Tanned and fit, a slightly older version of how she had looked when they were twenty. She was wearing a purple TCU booster sweatshirt and the color set off her blond good looks.
Over a western omelet, they talked about sports, but didn’t mention golf or her ex-husband. Then they rode together in her BMW to the basketball gym.
TCU lost the game, which might have shocked others, but didn’t surprise Drake. The Aggies had come to play, as they always did. That much hadn’t changed since his own days as a college athlete. He enjoyed the basketball game and wasn’t sorry he had attended. He and Tammy had cheered and clapped and sung and done the college thing. They’d had fun. But it was all unrealistic and a part of him thought it was silly.
He had left his construction crew in Southlake with instructions to work all weekend and call him if necessary, so back in the car, he switched on his phone and checked his messages.
“Expecting a call?” Tammy asked.
“Always,” Drake answered, and that was the truth.
Before he could return the phone to his belt, it bleated and he checked caller ID. Mom. He swore mentally, but keyed into the call. She started talking at once. “I want you to bring Tammy and come to my house for supper. I’ve been cooking all day. Everything’s ready and waiting. My old recipe for beef stew and fresh cornbread like I used to make it at the ranch when you two were kids. And I made a chocolate fudge cake, the one I won a ribbon with at the Treadway County Fair.”
He had raced all week and he wanted to go home and unwind, wanted some private time to regain his equilibrium. “How you feeling, Mom? Still got a stomach ache? ”
“I’m just fine. I came home and took some Pepto Bismol. Now I’m better.”
On a mental sigh, he turned to Tammy. “Mom’s cooked supper. Are you up for it?”
“I’d love it. Your mom’s a great cook.”
He started to hook the phone to his belt, but Tammy held out her hand and said, “Could I?”
“What, the phone?”
“Uh-huh.”
He handed it over, she dug her phone out of her purse and pressed numbers into both of them. She handed his back with a smile. “There. Now we’ve exchanged phone numbers.”
He didn’t want her phone number, didn’t want her to have his. But he said, “Okay, fine.”
The home-cooked meal was delicious, as it always was when his mother prepared it and reminded him of happier times at the ranch. The conversation turned out to be an even more detailed stroll down memory lane. Pleasant enough, enjoyable even, he admittedly grudgingly. He had found it easy—too easy—to fall into the comfort of familiar company and shared past experiences, though those experiences had nothing to do with his present lifestyle.
Tammy had driven her own car to Mom’s house, so he didn’t have to take her home. And that was a relief. They said goodnight with no future plan.
Driving home, he couldn’t stop thinking about the weekend’s dizzying turn of events. And Tammy. When he was eighteen, she had drawn him like a spider to its web. Was that same powerful lure in play again? How else could he explain having half a hard-on last night and all day? But was the arousal anything more than how a man reacted when he saw any beautiful woman?
The day and the evening had triggered even more memories. Tammy had always been a toucher. At the ballgame, when she had put her hand on his arm when she talked to him, he had almost covered the top of her hand with his, as he used to, but he had stopped
himself just in time.
She had always had a way of looking at him with eyes that held an invitation to something naughty and fun. She still had that way about her and today at the ballgame, he had found himself looking back with anticipation, just like fifteen years ago. Back then, they would have left the ballgame, found some out of the way spot and got it on in the backseat of his crewcab truck.
Maybe he and Tammy shared too much to ignore—history, family, common interests. A guy would have to be unconscious not to find her attractive. And how could he not remember that they had touched each other in every way? He had spent more time with her than with any other woman. They knew each other. It would be easy to pick up where they left off. She had said she was willing.
No way, buddy, his wiser inner voice said. She fucked you over once. She’d do it again.
Thank God for that inner voice. It had saved him more than once.
****
The next morning, Drake awoke still tired. His mind and emotions had roiled all night. He couldn’t wipe away the feeling that somehow he was cheating on Shannon. She was the woman with whom he felt a bond of souls, something of which he hadn’t known the definition when he had been with Tammy.
He had an overwhelming urge to hear Shannon’s voice, but he stopped himself from calling her. He was unsettled and he wore a cape of guilt. He didn’t know what to say to her, feared saying the wrong thing.. He couldn’t call her until he figured out what was going on inside him.
The next morning, his mother called before he got up. “How did it go yesterday?” she asked.
“What are you doing, Mom?” he countered, annoyed. He swung his feet to the floor and sat up. “You know I’m seeing someone.”
“Yes, I do know it,” she replied curtly. “And it’s high time you took a hard look at that someone. I know more about her than you think. She isn’t good enough for you, Son. In fact, I don’t know who would be a good partner for someone like her. Why, she’s nothing but trailer trash. She was even married to trailer trash.”
That stopped him. Where the hell was she getting information? He couldn’t remember ever telling his mother or anyone in his family Shannon’s name, much less anything else. Annoyance turned to anger. “Cut it out, Mom. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He heard a hitch in her breath, then she quickly went on. “What I do know is that you and
Tammy were the perfect couple. You still could be.”
“Forget that. You know what she did. You think that’s okay?”
“People forgive people, Drake. It happens all the time.” He heard anxiety, even panic in her words “Look at the Andersons. My God, Kathy had an affair. Al divorced her and she married another man. Then she came back and asked Al to forgive her. He took her back. And now they’re remarried and happy as can be. They’ve even had another child.”
Drake had gone to high school with the couple. His mind zipped to another example of reconciliation he knew of. His new construction boss, Chick Ferguson who had gone through a bitter divorce from his ex-wife Amy. Later for the sake of their son, they had remarried. Big mistake. Now they were separated and headed for a second divorce.
“Take a look in the mirror, Mom. You’re not exactly the one to be telling me about how I should conduct myself with any woman.”
They argued for another few minutes, then disconnected. Now he was awake and couldn’t go back to sleep. He got up and headed for the shower.
On Sunday evening, he called Shannon to discuss the Lubbock trip, but in reality, he wanted to hear her voice, wanted her to set him straight. He had spent more than twenty-four hours mixed up between the past the present and mentally battling the question of the “right thing.”
****
Betty Lockhart was beside herself with disappointment and frustration. She had awakened so delighted with how well last night’s dinner had gone, she couldn’t wait to hear that Drake felt the same. She paced from the kitchen to her bedroom and back, thinking. What could she do?
Then it came to her. She could get the file Donna Schoonover had given her into his hands anonymously. All she had to do was mail it. She dressed hurriedly and drove to Kinko’s, made copies of every document in the file. Then she bought a plain white envelope, had Drake’s office address typed on it and stuffed the documents inside. Then she dropped in the mailbox outside the door, calculating he would receive it by Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. In the end, when it saved him from making a terrible mistake, he would appreciate getting this information.
****
As the week passed, the loss of the five-acre parcel became less disappointing to Shannon. She had never been inclined to obsess about loss. Grammy Evelyn’s frayed old saying about doors closing and windows opening came back and guided her. She would find a better investment and start over. She was only thirty-three. She had plenty of time to build her retirement.
She had received messages from Drake here and there and had sent a few to him. That they were both busy was just as well. Hawaii had been emotional in a way Shannon had never experienced. Time apart gave them a chance to step back and look at where they were going. For the first time in a month, she forced all of her energy and time onto her business.
Soon, the date for the Lubbock trip loomed just a few days ahead. In a phone call to discuss the arrangements, Drake offered to hire someone to stay with Grammy Evelyn, but Shannon declined. The idea seemed absurd when Colleen lived twenty minutes away.
Shannon decided to tell Colleen who she was seeing. Perhaps sharing personal information would make Colleen more cooperative in the future. She drove out to Colleen and Gavin’s house on Saturday to discuss it.
She found her sister in the kitchen baking. Colleen invited her in and offered her a seat at the white breakfast counter and a cup of coffee. While Shannon shrugged out of her coat and laid it on a neighboring stool, Colleen took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice cubes. The sound of a football game came from the family room’s TV.
“I’m going out of town again,” Shannon said. She sipped at the coffee. “That’s good coffee, Colleen.”
“It’s a special blend I got at one of those stores downtown on the square.” Colleen opened a drawer and pulled out hot pads. “I knew you didn’t come out just to visit. I don’t get it. Don’t you and your boyfriend ever do anything in town?”
“He lives in Fort Worth. His work requires him to travel sometimes.”
“Humph. A traveling salesman. I’m not surprised.” Colleen turned her back and opened the oven door.
Irked by the remark’s implication, Shannon said to her back, “You know something, Colleen? I haven’t told you his name because I don’t want a big deal made of it. It’s Drake Lockhart I’m dating. I’m sure I don’t have to add that he’s got projects going on all over the place.”
Colleen closed the oven door, tossed her hot pads onto the counter and planted a skinny fist on her hip. “Is that a name that’s supposed to mean something?”
Shannon sighed, not surprised that Colleen hadn’t heard of Drake. Her world was as small and confined as a turtle’ s.
But Gavin was a different story and he was standing in the kitchen doorway, a newspaper dangling from one hand. “You expect us to believe you’re shacking up with Drake Lockhart? In your dreams. What a bunch of BS.”
A shot of rage zinged up Shannon’s spine and she sprang to her feet. “I’m not shacking up, Gavin, and I wasn’t talking to you.” She turned to her sister. “Colleen, all I want you to do is keep an eye on Grammy Evelyn for a few days just like you did before. Can’t you do that? Just stop in and check to see that she’s okay or if she needs anything? It’d give you a chance to spend some time with her. You hardly ever see her.”
“That’s not true,” Colleen replied indignantly. “We take her to church.”
“Every two or three months? Big deal. Drake offered to hire someone to look after her, but I thought that was unnecessary when she has a granddaug
hter a short drive away.”
“You’re really going off on a trip with Drake Lockhart. You’re not kidding,” Gavin said. Statements, not questions, as if he finally believed it.
Colleen glowered at her husband. “Well, my Lord. Who is Drake Lockhart?”
Shannon suddenly felt as if a hammer pounded an anvil between her temples. She picked up her coat. “You know what? This is ridiculous. Just forget it. Drake and I’ll pay for someone.”
Gavin came over, tossed his newspaper onto the counter and thrust his face at her. His lawyer mode. Shannon had been on the receiving end of that look before, when she had tried to confronted him about lifting the lien on Grammy Evelyn’s home.
“How’d you meet somebody like him?” Gavin demanded.
Roasting him with a glare, Shannon zipped up her coat, picked up her purse and started for the door.
“We didn’t say we wouldn’t do it,” Gavin said, following her. Now he was more like a Toy Poodle than a Rottweiler.
“Yes, you did,” Shannon replied. “I can’t count on my family for one damn thing. And neither can Grammy Evelyn.”
She reached for the doorknob, but Gavin had already grasped it. He had a silly grin on his face. “That’s cool that you’re dating somebody like that. Really cool, man. Your taste is getting better, little sister. Hell, he’s a rock star. I read about him all the time.”
“Move your hand, Gavin. I need to go,” Shannon said.
Colleen had come up behind them. “Who is Drake Lockhart?”
Ignoring his wife, Gavin said, “I’d like to meet him. You know, maybe get a good word from him, know what I mean? ’Course a guy like him’s probably a Republican.”
Shannon knew what was going through her brother-in-law’s mind. Now that he had
decided to run for something, he was suddenly interested in begging for an endorsement from someone like Drake. Exactly what she had expected if and when Gavin and Colleen learned about Drake. “A lot of people would like to meet him, Gavin. I need to go.”