by Dixie Cash
As she selected CDs, it dawned on her she had no idea what Spur liked in music. She hadn’t done very well so far in guessing about him, so she decided to go with easy listening.
Food in place, music selected, Paige went to her bedroom to tackle one more important element. Clothing. No problem. Her closet was jam-packed. She just had to make the right choice. Something cute, but not cutesy. Or maybe something seductive, but not slutty. Okay, forget seductive. She would stick with cute. After all, this was their first date.
With Spur being an ex–football hero, he probably would go for the cheerleader look. Sliding hanging garments past her critical eye she finally decided on a short denim skirt with a two-layer ruffle at the hem. She had been wearing bulky white bandages all week to protect her knees from germs and the friction of her jeans. Tonight she would allow Spur to see the result of his handiwork. She wore the scars of her injuries like a badge of honor.
A boxy cashmere sweater, a pair of low-heeled loafers, a tortoiseshell headband holding her hair back, and she was set. She only hoped she didn’t look too high-schoolish.
Preparing for a special evening had never been so simple. Prior to moving to Salt Lick she would have shopped for days for shoes or the perfect article of clothing and spent at least one day at the spa. She didn’t feel the need with Spur Atwater. There was an earthiness to him. He would more likely notice character and convictions before material possessions. Her being self-reliant and not leaning on her family wealth had to impress him. If he didn’t realize it yet, she was determined that he would.
The doorbell sounded at seven o’clock exactly, not a minute before or past. She froze, fighting the urge to run into the bathroom and hide behind the shower curtain.
What had she been thinking inviting him or any man to a home-prepared supper?
She had already planned to appear to be cooking when he came in. Along with pots and pans, Debbie Sue had left other stuff. Paige tore through drawers and found a bib apron. She pulled it over her head and on a deep breath, took her position in the kitchen. Exhaling one last time, she sang out, “Come iii-nnn.”
SPUR HEARD THE INVITATION on the other side of the door. In his hand he had a bottle of wine and a small houseplant he had asked his sister to pick up for him in Odessa. “This is an African violet, and she’ll love it,” Electra had told him.
He juggled the wine and the plant into one hand, wiped a sweaty palm on his jeans, and reached for the doorknob. Rattled nerves had almost prompted him to cancel, but Electra would have been merciless in her scolding. No, he accepted the invitation, and he would make the most of the evening. After all, Electra had gone out of her way to pick up the presents and make sure he had the right clothes to wear.
As he opened the door, his first view was the living room and three aluminum folding chairs, arranged in such a way as to resemble real furniture. A throw hung over the back of each chair, and one chair even had a small pillow. His hostess’s effort reminded him of his mom and the lengths to which she used to go to make their shabby living quarters homey and comfortable.
“Hi, Spur.”
The voice came from the kitchen. He walked the few steps through the small living room and intended to say hello, but the sight of her in the kitchen, bent over the oven, preparing a meal for him, made him weak in the knees.
“You’re right on time,” she said. “I was just taking things out of the oven.”
She had on a short skirt that showed off her long legs. His roommate perked up, but Spur kept his composure until she straightened and started toward him. When he saw her full frontal, he couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing and nearly dropped the wine and the plant.
A puzzled look crossed her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that apron is really funny.”
Paige looked down. The apron had something written on it. She untied the strings in the back and pulled it over her head. Holding it at arm’s length, she read “I may be a lousy cook, but I give a great blow job.”
“Oh, my God! I didn’t know that was on there. Oh, my God! I’m so embarrassed. Debbie Sue left it here in the drawer and I just—I didn’t read it—”
Spur couldn’t keep from laughing even harder at her floundering. “Don’t apologize. It’s a great way to break the tension.”
Finally Paige laughed, too, but he could see her nervousness as she stuffed the apron into a drawer. He thrust the plant toward her. “Electra told me to tell you to put this on a north windowsill.”
He could tell by the way she looked at it she didn’t know what to do with it, but she took it with a big smile. “Thanks,” she said softly, carried it to the dining area’s one window, and set it on the ledge. “There,” she said. “Perfect.”
He offered the bottle of wine. “I brought this to have with supper.” She smiled even bigger. “Thanks, again.” She took the wine bottle and walked to the kitchen counter. “Believe it or not, I’ve actually got a corkscrew. Debbie Sue left it behind.”
Feeling more relaxed, he walked to her side and took the corkscrew from her. After he opened the wine, she brought out pretty little glasses with red tops. “These are cocktail glasses, but I guess we could drink wine from them.”
“Sounds good. Pretty delicate for me. I’ll try to be careful.”
“Since supper’s ready, I guess we should sit down and eat.” She gestured toward the dining table. She had set the table with the heavy southwestern pottery dishes she had bought in Santa Fe years back, matching napkins, and silverware that had belonged to her mother. Each place setting was completed with tumblers of ice water that matched the cocktail glasses. She might not know how to cook, but she did know how to set a table.
He moved toward the table. “Sounds good to me. I didn’t get to eat lunch today, so I’m starving.” He sniffed the air. “Mmm. What is it?”
“I hope you like meat loaf.”
“Are you kidding? I love it. I’m not a great cook, but as many years as I’ve been batching, I’ve learned to make a mean meat loaf. I’ve got my mom’s recipe. I can’t wait to taste yours.”
She began to bring bowls and platters from the kitchen. He rose from his seat. “Need some help?”
He tried not to drool as he looked at each dish. He hadn’t known what to expect but had come prepared to accept whatever she served and be gracious in his compliments, but this really did look good.
Paige took his plate and filled it to the rim. He waited for her to finish her plate and then dove in. Everything from the fried okra to the squash casserole was larruping. “I hate being such a pig, but this meat loaf is the best I’ve ever tasted. What do you put in it to give it the unusual flavor?”
Paige stopped, her fork suspended.
“There’s a spice I can’t quite put my finger on,” he said.
“Uh, I use hamburger and…oh, some other stuff.”
“Oh, don’t want to share your recipe, huh? An old family secret? C’mon now, what other stuff?”
“Oh, I just grab things out of the cabinet. You know, a little of this and a little of that.” She began to rub an itchy spot on her neck with her fingertips.
“Well, it’s delicious. I’ve never made mine with a topping.” He touched the red topping on his meat loaf slice with the tip of his fork. “This isn’t ketchup, is it?”
She looked over at his plate. “Uh, yeah, ketchup.”
“Did you add something to it? It has such a sweet taste.”
“Uh, well, that would be sugar. Lots of sugar.”
“Hmmm, I’ll have to try that the next time I make a meat loaf. How do you get it to stay together? Mine tends to fall apart. This one looks like I could throw it fifty yards.” He laughed.
Paige stared unblinking at the meat loaf that suddenly looked as if it were made of adobe.
“Paige?” Spur said.
“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about what would hold meat loaf together. I mean, uh, I use flour and water, o
f course.”
“No kidding? That’s how I made paste when I was a kid. I’ve always used crackers in meat loaf. Bread or sometimes croutons, but never just flour and water. I’ll have to try that. Mind if I have another piece?”
He lifted his plate toward the meat loaf and in doing so, tipped over his glass of water. The puddle rushed for the edge of the table. He jumped from his chair, went into the kitchen, and retrieved a roll of paper towels he had spotted on the counter. He blotted up the spill, apologizing profusely.
“Don’t worry about it,” Paige said, carefully sinking to her knees, helping him. Her knees still looked sore, so she had to be in pain.
Spur finished mopping up the spill and carried the soaked towels into the kitchen. He opened cupboard doors seeking the trash can and finally found it in the pantry. Before he could toss out the towels, he saw discarded containers with the name PERCY’S printed on the tops. He knew the name. Electra had been telling him she wanted to take him to eat at Percy’s because the take-out café specialized in his favorite dish—meat loaf.
The discovery washed over him like a warm blanket. That Paige would go to the trouble to impress him, with, of all things, home-cooking, touched him in a way he had never been touched. A lump formed in his throat and words failed him. The reaction puzzled him. Any other time, with anyone else he would have gone along with the farce, only to tease her once the truth came out. But for reasons he couldn’t explain he felt tenderness toward Paige for her efforts. He closed the pantry door on her secret. “I can’t find the trash can,” he said. “I’m just gonna lay these wet towels on the sink, if that’s okay with you.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll use them for cleaning up.” She smiled and tittered. “Save a tree, you know?”
When he returned to the table he leaned over and gently brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Thank you for supper. This may be the best meal I ever ate.”
Her shoulders scrunched and her hands clasped in her lap. “I’m so glad you liked it,” she said softly. God, she had the most unforgettable smile.
After the meal, Paige brought out her favorite after-dinner drink, a bottle of Glenlivet. The rest of the evening went wonderfully well, she thought. They talked about life in Salt Lick. The fact that they were both new residents gave them much to discuss. They talked about college. A&M was one Texas seat of higher learning she hadn’t attended. Finally, several drinks later, Spur looked at his watch.
“I hate to leave good company, but I guess I’d better go.”
They both stood and walked toward the entrance. Spur opened the door and turned back. “Thanks again. Next time will be my treat.” His head leaned toward hers and instinctively she looked up. Before she knew what happened, they were kissing, and both his arms had her locked in an embrace. The world spun. Her body fit against his as if it had been poured from liquid. More. She wanted more.
Their kisses grew more intense until Spur let go. Paige looked at him, her arms still wrapped around his middle.
Worry filled his beautiful dark eyes. “I can’t do this. We can’t do this. It’s too soon.”
“Don’t say that. Really—”
“We both need to cool down. I think I better just leave.” He peeled her arms from around his torso.
“Can’t we reach a compromise?”
His mouth turned up in a smile and his hand cupped her chin. “You and I both know there’s no compromise when it comes to sex. I’ve never backed out when I was this turned on. That should tell you something.” He kissed her forehead as if she were his little sister. “Thanks again for the supper. I’ll see myself out.”
His mouth brushed her ear with a whisper and then he was out the door and gone.
He had whispered something she hadn’t heard clearly. She could have sworn he said he couldn’t wait for her to meet his roommate.
And she didn’t even know he had a roommate.
twenty-one
The lone cowboy backed the truck and horse trailer up to a small barn attached to the corral. The three penned horses pricked their ears and whinnied. They knew food was on the way.
Bringing feed to this isolated spot was getting old. Very old. Though the cowboy paid one of the ranch’s Mexican hands to put out all the feed and water the horses needed, the cowboy still had to haul in hay. He had tried giving the Mexican money to buy the feed, but that had proved to be a mistake. What of the funds the Mexican didn’t drink up, he lost betting on cockfights. It was impossible to find somebody trustworthy.
The one turn of good luck the cowboy had had was in finding this ranch. A Fort Worth banker had inherited it. Now the new had worn off, and the guy didn’t even drive out very often, much less spend time here. Apparently he liked the idea of having a ranch, but he didn’t like ranching. Asshole. The cowboy would love to be handed a ranch.
This was the longest time he had kept the nags in one place. He could haul the three horses east now, but he preferred to wait until he had a fourth horse. With a four-horse trailer and the high cost of gas, it only made sense to take as many animals as possible in one trip.
Besides, this was his last haul. Having extra spending money had been fun at first, but all along he had been setting aside some of it, planning for the future. Now the future had become the present. He had already enrolled in auctioneering school in Dallas, had paid half the tuition. With only a little more cash, his new life could start.
Sure, he would be leaving responsibilities and people who depended on him, but this was his one shot. He hadn’t seen much opportunity to move up in his life, and he intended to make the most of the one at hand. He would wait a few more days, then scout the area around Odessa and Midland again for the fourth horse.
twenty-two
Debbie Sue stepped back to assess her handiwork. The GPS transmitter was undistinguishable from the silver conchos adorning Rocket Man’s halter. To be safe, she had placed the coin-size device up near his ears so that his mane hid it even better. Rocket Man was now the most high-tech horse in West Texas, maybe all of Texas.
“Whaddaya think, y’all? Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?” Buddy and Edwina nodded confirmation.
“Ed, let’s check it out,” Debbie Sue said. “Get my phone and call Vic.”
Edwina walked over to the pickup, lifted the cell phone from the dash mount, and made the call. “Hey, baby doll,” she said into the receiver. “We’re all set here. Are you picking up anything?”
Whatever he answered evoked a titter from Edwina.
“What’d he say?” Debbie Sue asked.
Edwina grinned.
“Good Lord. You two. Give me that phone.”
Edwina handed over the phone.
“Vic? Are you getting a signal?…Really? Wow, is that space-age or what? Set the perimeter for two miles. We’re getting ready to test it. We’ll load Rocket Man in the trailer and drive up the road.”
Buddy was already leading Rocket Man to the trailer hooked to the pickup. Rocket Man didn’t often get to go for a ride on the open road these days, but he clomped up the ramp as if he had been doing it every day. He was such a good horse. His gentle, trusting nature was one of the qualities that was endearing. It was also what worried Debbie Sue the most. That gentleness and trust could prove dangerous for him.
Buddy took a seat as the driver, and Edwina crawled into the extended cab behind him. Debbie Sue climbed onto the passenger seat. “Well, here goes, y’all. Keep your fingers crossed this’ll work.”
Buddy reached over and squeezed her knee. “It’ll work just fine, Flash.”
“I’m worried about McFarland’s mare disappearing,” Debbie Sue said. “Their place is so close to us. Do you think she could have been stolen?”
“I talked to Bob yesterday,” Buddy answered. “He didn’t find her when he rode the pastures looking for her, but he could have missed her. He’s got a big place.”
“But all his other horses came up to the barn. The mare would have followed the others…if she could
have.”
“We’re doing all we can, darlin’. Now let’s see if this transmitter thing works.” He stopped at the cattle guard and looked left and right. “Which way?”
“Right. Let’s go for a long ride. Rocket Man will enjoy that, but let me know when we reach two miles.”
“Right it is.” Buddy eased onto the road heading east as, on the radio, Ernest Tubb crooned a question about the whereabouts of “sweet thang.” Edwina sang along. Soon Buddy announced, “Okay, that’s two miles.”
“Damn. No call. Buddy, I did charge the phone last night, didn’t I? I’ve been so worried—”
The University of Texas fight song coming from her cell phone interrupted her sentence. When she pressed the On button, an automated voice spoke. “Your target has gone beyond the set perimeters. Please contact your GPS administrator. Repeating the previous message, your target has gone beyond…”
Debbie Sue squealed with delight. “Oh, my God! It works!” “I’m calling Vic.” She keyed in Vic and Edwina’s home number. “Vic, we got the message. Where do you show us to be?”
“Looks like you’re heading east on highway three-zero-two.”
“That’s right,” Debbie Sue said gleefully. “Thanks, Vic. See you later.” She disconnected and turned to Buddy and Edwina. “I can’t tell you what a relief this is for me.” She leaned her head against the padded headrest. “I see nights of restful sleep ahead.”
“That’s great, hon’,” Edwina said. “What I see is an ice cream cone dipped in chocolate. Buddy, stop at Hogg’s. I’m buying.”
PAIGE’S FIRST few days of managing the horses without Lester had gone well. She had played a game of pretend while she worked, daydreaming that this spread belonged to her and her husband, the hot, phenomenally successful, Dr. Spur Atwater. In her imagination, she worked with these beautiful animals during the day, Spur ran his practice, and then when evening came, they settled down and discussed their day. Eventually they went to bed, where they had wild and crazy sex. It was a mind-blowing daydream, considering that until now, she had never met anyone she could see sharing her life with or her future. Nor had she ever had wild and crazy sex.