by Dixie Cash
Paige glanced at the slip of paper in her hand. “Oh! That’s me.” Still smiling, she got up, went to the counter, and picked up the brown paper sack, a grease stain already showing through. She came back to the table. “Well, I guess I’d better go. Got an early day tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Spur stood, not sure what to do or say at this point and suddenly aware of a host of eyes turned on them. “It was good to see you, Paige. You take care, now, you hear?”
As he watched her climb into the Cadillac, Spur thought of a dozen things he should have said. Maybe he should be satisfied with the fact that this encounter had gone better than previous meet-ups. Nothing had been damaged and no one had been injured. Perhaps when he ran into her again, he would have grown a backbone and acquired the ability to coordinate his brain and tongue in her presence.
fourteen
As Paige unlocked the front door and heard the phone, the only two people who had her new number leapt into her thoughts. Daddy and Sunny. Either would be a welcome voice. She crammed the last bite of cheeseburger in her mouth and fumbled with the lock until the door sprang open. She dashed to the bedroom, and on what seemed to be the hundredth ring she snatched the receiver off its cradle.
“Hello, don’t hang up.”
“Paige? Where you been, punkin? I’ve been calling for hours. It’s after eight o’clock. I was afraid you might’ve been trampled by one of those horses.”
“Daddy! I’m so glad you called. I stopped off to visit friends, then grabbed a bite to eat. You should see me. I’m covered with dirt, sweat, and horse crap and I’m happy about it.”
“I can hear that in your voice. Think you’re gonna like your new job, do ya?”
Words began to tumble out, like her mouth couldn’t move fast enough to tell everything. “I love it, but I may not be able to get out of bed tomorrow. I used a lot of muscle today. Daddy, I’m taking care of ten horses. Lester’s got two signed up for the futurity in Fort Worth in December. I’m hoping Harley will let me go. That may be the only chance I get to come back between now and then.”
“Why, daughter, I haven’t heard you this excited since you called me from New York City when you’d stumbled onto some kind of shoe sale.”
Paige laughed. “It was ‘Seventh on Sixth,’ Daddy. Fashion week. That’s a world away from what I’ve been doing today.”
“Well, it’s just good to hear you happy. Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine. I don’t need a thing.”
“You’re bound to need something, sweetie. You didn’t leave here with a lot of cash. You got groceries? Gasoline? That Caddy running okay?”
“I really am okay, Daddy. My cabinets have food, my tank’s got gas, and there’s cold beer in the fridge. My bank account’s empty, but I’ll be fine until payday. We get paid on Fridays. Just four days away.”
“I wish you’d let me do something. I feel bad.”
“Why, you old softie. You’re afraid I’m going to get too independent, aren’t you? You actually miss me running up the credit card bill, don’t you? I’ll bet Dick In-the-Butt has gone into a deep depression.”
Her dad’s baritone chuckle rumbled like West Texas thunder. “Richard’s holding up just fine, but I heard the CFO at Neiman Marcus called an emergency meeting to discuss the sudden drop in revenue.”
It was so good to be teasing with her daddy again. Sensing the old rhythm returning in their good-natured jabs at each other thrilled her.
“So give me details about your day. Let me hear all of it, too. Don’t give me just the parts you think I’ll approve of.”
Paige told him everything about her long workday—how she had set things straight between herself and Lester, her new friendship with Debbie Sue and Edwina, stopping at Hogg’s, where Elvis had eaten once. The only thing she didn’t share was meeting Dr. Atwater. It felt too soon to share those emotions.
“By God, Paige, I’m proud of you, honey.” His tone took on a softness. “Your mama would be proud, too. You’re still the best thing the two of us ever did.”
She forced herself to think of something that would squelch her emotions. “Where’s Margaret Ann tonight?”
“Oh, hell, who knows? She’s chairman of some damn foolishness. I come in, she’s on the phone. I go to bed, she’s on the phone. I get up, it’s the same damn thing. I could pluck a Mexican out of the Rio Grande and have better conversations than I do with her. Sometimes I wish I’d…Oh, hell, never mind.”
A knot formed in Paige’s throat, and her eyes stung with tears. She would love to wrap her arms around her daddy’s neck at this very moment. Her father led a lonely life. She heard it in his voice, even though he talked with his usual brusqueness. Even after all these years, he still loved her mother.
“Daddy, why don’t you come visit me for a few days? I know Harley would enjoy seeing you, and I want to show you my little house. I could introduce you to my new friends. They’re such terrific people. Please?”
“I’ll make it out there soon. Maybe I’ll bring you a turkey if you don’t think you’ll be back to Fort Worth on Thanksgiving. Think between the two of us we could cook that ol’ bird?”
Paige laughed. “I know we could. I’ve got an oven and everything. I could get directions from Sunny…I miss you, Daddy.”
“I miss you too, sweet pea. Call me in a few days and let me know how things are going.”
“Okay. Thanks for calling. I love you.”
She heard him mutter he loved her, too, before he hung up.
Funny, in all the years she’d been away from home she had never said she missed him with such heartfelt conviction. She had imagined pulling away would be hard, but she wasn’t prepared for the real physical pain in her chest. Leaving his financial support was one thing, leaving the nest was a whole other issue.
Paige stripped her grimy clothes and carried them to the laundry bin at the end of the hallway. A washing machine had not been a high priority on her list of necessities, but it was becoming one.
She gathered an armload of fragrant bath salts, coconut shampoo and conditioner and took them to the bathroom off the master bedroom. She turned the shower on full blast and stepped into the warm spray. Soon the room was foggy as a steam room. The West Texas hard water didn’t yield the voluminous lather she was accustomed to, but it was hot and it hit the sore spots, which more than made up for the absence of suds.
After drying herself, applying moisturizing lotion to her body, and drying her hair she was ready for bed. She pulled an oversize Dallas Stars jersey over her head, slipped into a pair of flannel boxers, and grabbed the most recent copy of the NCHA Cutting Horse Chatter magazine. She had no more than settled into the comfort of the feather bed when the chimes from the doorbell echoed through the sparsely furnished house.
It was after ten o’clock. Wasn’t that a late hour for a small town?
“Debbie Sue? You there, darlin’?” The voice was male. More raps on the door. “C’mon, sugar. It’s me. Open up.”
Paige threw back the covers, slid from the bed, and tiptoed to the door. When Buddy dropped by earlier in the week and installed a sliding chain lock she had laughed and told him she doubted she would use it. Sure enough, it now hung there unhooked and useless. Picking up the chain she gingerly slid it through the slot and informed the visitor, “Debbie Sue doesn’t live here anymore.”
“C’mon, darlin’, I recognize your voice. You can’t still be mad at me. Open up, sugar. I want to tell you something.”
The visitor sounded like he might have been drinking, but he didn’t sound all-the-way drunk. If he was someone Debbie Sue knew, he must be harmless. Taking a deep breath, Paige cracked the door and peered out. The mystery man had taken a seat on the top step and was turning his cowboy hat among his fingers. His back looked broad and muscular. His clothes were starched and pressed in true cowboy style. Only his profile was visible, but what she saw looked good.
Beyond him, parked at the curb at a skewed an
gle, was a black Lincoln Navigator. Well, maybe he was drunker than she thought.
At the sound of the door opening he leapt to his feet with a big grin that quickly evaporated. “You’re not Debbie Sue,” he said.
“Like I told you, she doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Are you sure? I know that was her voice.” Trying to peer through the opening, he called out again, “Debbie Sue!”
“Listen,” Paige said more firmly, “she doesn’t live here. I moved in about a week ago. Debbie Sue and Buddy live east of town, at her mom’s place.”
“You’re shittin’ me. They moved in together?”
“Uh, uh, well, no,” Paige stammered. “They’re married. Or I guess remarried would be the accurate thing to say.”
He stared at her a few beats, as if he didn’t believe her. Finally he clapped his hat onto his head. “Damn. My timing with that woman was always off. I knew she was still crazy about Buddy, but I didn’t think he felt the same way.”
“Can I give her a message? If you give me your name, I’ll tell her you came by.”
His forlorn expression grew into a cocky smirk. “You don’t recognize me?” His eyes roamed up and down the part of her body that showed through the door crack.
The change in his demeanor came so fast Paige was confused. Maybe he was just putting on a good front. “I’m sorry, I don’t. Should I?”
He hooked his thumbs through his front belt loops, a grin now cemented on his face. “I’m Quint Matthews.”
He said it as if the statement explained itself. “Okay.” Paige waited for a more detailed explanation. The name did ring familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. “Sorry, but it doesn’t register.”
“Quint. Matthews.” He repeated the two words, as if she hadn’t heard them clearly. “Three-time world champion bull rider, spokesman for Wranglers and the PRCA? Why, darlin’, Texas Monthly named me the Most Eligible Bachelor in Texas two years ago. Any of that ring a bell?”
Paige recognized a bad boy when she saw one. Despite the good looks and definite charm, she could see why Debbie Sue wisely chose Buddy. “Oh, yeah, Quint Matthews,” she said brightly. “I thought you were dead.”
“Why would you think I was dead?”
“I remember seeing you ride at the rodeo in Fort Worth once. You took a really nasty spill off Bodacious. He stepped right in the middle of your straw hat when your head was still in it. First time I ever saw a cowboy wearing his hat around his neck. They carried you out of the arena.”
“My God. I must have ridden a thousand bulls in my career and the only ride anyone seems to remember is that rank sonofabitch Bodacious.”
“At least you’re remembered for something,” Paige said sincerely.
“Honey, I’m remembered for a lot of things. Just ask Debbie Sue.” He reached for the screen door handle.
“I think I’ll just stick to telling her you came by. Good night.”
Paige started to close the door, but her visitor moved like lightning and stuck his boot between the door and the jamb. “Hey, darlin’, how about I come in and we get acquainted? If Debbie Sue’s not available, I’d just as soon hear more about you.”
She looked at the boot and then at him. “Thanks, but you’re going to be too busy.”
“Think so? What am I gonna be doing, darlin’?”
“Changing your flat tire.”
Quint turned to his left and looked at his SUV.
“Good evening, Mr. Matthews,” Paige sang. “Your eight seconds is up.”
She slammed the door and locked it.
PAIGE SHUT OFF the alarm clock. Her first waking thought was telling Debbie Sue about the late-night visitor. She had assumed, with no supporting facts, that when Debbie Sue and Buddy were separated, Debbie Sue had pined for him until he finally saw the light. From the looks of the sexy, crestfallen cowboy she met last night, pine was not the right word.
She threw back the covers, padded to the bathroom, and began her morning ritual. The possibility of running into Spur made her take great pains with her hair and makeup. She didn’t intend to risk doing anything that would put him off. After donning a pair of Wranglers, a sweatshirt, and boots, she was out the door.
As she drove through town she eyed her cell phone lying on the passenger’s seat. She would love to talk to Sunny, but it was 5:30 A.M. Sunny didn’t know a day had two 5:30s, so instead of calling, Paige picked the phone up and dropped it into her purse.
She saw only one store open. The Kwik Stop convenience store. She had already passed it when she remembered she needed to grab something for breakfast and lunch. She made a sharp U-turn and doubled back, only to discover that the tiny store’s parking lot was crowded with extended cab pickups and oversize trucks hauling horse trailers. She parked on the side and walked around to the front entrance.
An elderly Mexican man stood at the register, grinning and greeting everyone who entered. Tejano music pounded from a radio on a back shelf. She looked around and saw a block-shaped Mexican woman cooking at a grill located near the front cash register. The aromas of onions and chorizo filled the air, and Paige’s hunger pangs revved up.
She turned toward the cold drinks at the back of the store. With muscles stiff and sore, she groaned as she squatted at one of the cold cases and reached for a bottle of orange juice. A couple of breakfast burritos smothered in salsa were all that filled her mind…until she heard the voice of Dr. Spur Atwater. He had to have just entered because she hadn’t seen him or his old pickup when she came in. She was just about to rise and approach him when she heard him give a breakfast order to the senora.
“Four burritos, please,” he said. “Two with eggs, onions, and sausage, and two with eggs and bacon only. No onions on those last two please, ma’am. Just eggs and bacon. I’ll also need a large coffee and a Dr Pepper.”
A two-person order if she ever heard one. What did that mean? Paige peered down a long aisle, looking to see if the other person was with him, but saw no one. Okay, he could be ordering for a male friend. But instinct told her otherwise. Was his girlfriend in his truck or at his trailer waiting in a flimsy nightgown? Damn.
Well, she had to avoid him. She couldn’t bear to embarrass him or herself.
Still squatting, she duckwalked around the end aisle for a better view of the front of the store. She could see his cute backside, and he appeared to be alone. She moved closer to the large storefront window and peeked out. Sitting in the cab of his pickup was a brunette. Undoubtedly the “sweet young thing” Edwina had described.
More than ever, Paige didn’t want to be seen by him, especially after she had been hiding this long. She couldn’t just pop up like some jack-in-the-box, could she? But a cramp had seized her right calf, and the pain was approaching the excruciating point. Standing to relieve the agony was not an option, so she grabbed a loaf of bread from a shelf and bit into it, muffling a scream.
The cramp had almost relaxed when she heard the Mexican woman tell Spur he would have to get the soft drink from the back. Sheer panic leaped into Paige. Through the pain she looked for a back exit. She saw only one door and it stood open. She limped through the doorway and discovered she had stepped into the walk-in cooler. The air felt cold on her skin, but at least she was out of sight. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Peering out from the cooler’s darkness, she watched as Spur walked within six feet and scanned the soft drink cases. He moved nearer, and she began to panic. Then she realized part of the bank of cold cases was behind the cooler’s open door. He opened a cold case door and at the same time pushed the cooler door shut. The heavy outside latch clanged in a sickening, pitch-black finality. Paige’s breath caught in her throat. The hum of a compressor suddenly became a maddening roar, and she began to shiver from the cold. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
She needed a plan in lieu of pounding on the door and screeching.
Calm down, calm down.
Just wait long enough for Spur to leave the store, then summ
on someone. Or perhaps the clerks will need something and open the cooler door themselves.
An eternity passed. Her feet began to feel numb. Spur had to be gone. She knocked on the door and called out, but hearing nothing from the outside but the steady beat of the Tejano music, she had a terrifying thought. If she couldn’t hear them, could they hear her?
“Hey,” she yelled. “Can anybody hear me?” She counted to a hundred and called out again. And again. Nothing.
She heard the muted ring of a phone and remembered she had put her cell phone in her purse. Using the braille method, she fumbled through her bag until she felt the cold plastic phone housing. Yanking it free, she flipped it open and was bathed in green fluorescent light from the tiny screen.
According to the phone’s clock, she had been in the freezer about ten minutes, though it felt like an hour had gone by. She dialed information and almost wept with happiness when the monotonous-sounding operator’s voice answered.
“What city please?”
“S-s-salt Lick,” Paige said, her teeth chattering.
“Utah?”
“Huh? No, I’m in Texas.”
“One moment, please.”
Another operator came on the line. “This is Tasheka. How may I help you?”
“I need the n-number for the K-kwik Stop c-convenience store.” Paige fumbled inside her purse again, found a pen, and poised to write the number on her open palm.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t have a listing for a Kwik Stop in Salt Lake.”
“Do you mean Utah? Are you thinking I want a number in Utah?”
“I don’t show a listing for a Kwik Stop in Salt Lake City.”
“No, ma’am, p-please. It’s not Salt Lake. It’s Salt Lick, Texas.”
“Hold on, please…. I don’t show a listing in Salt Lick.”
“It’s th-the one on Ma-main Street,” Paige said, feeling she was rapidly running out of time to hold on. “It’s the only one in town. It’s K-k-k-w-i-k-k-k. Would you ch-check again please?”
Silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a listing for a Kwik, K-w-i-k Stop.”