“No need for that. This is a big house. This wing has three bedrooms and a huge bathroom. Y’all can have your choice of rooms, but I bet Martin is going to like this one.” He slid the bags off his shoulders at the doorway of one of the bedrooms.
“Which one is yours?” Callie dropped a bulging suitcase in the hallway.
He turned her shoulders toward the living room and pointed. “There’s another wing off the living room. I chose a bedroom in that area because it has a fireplace. It shares a flue with the one in the living room. Actually, Shotgun chose it when we first got here. We had a fireplace in my bedroom at the ranch in Comfort and he recognized it as a place to warm his bones after working all day out in the cold,” Finn answered.
The deep Southern drawl in his voice still affected her the same way it had back when she first met him. She didn’t know the story, but Lala was a complete idiot not to be living on the ranch with him.
Martin let go of the bag on his shoulder, and it fell to the hardwood floor with a loud thump. “Are you serious? Is this really my room? I’m afraid to shut my eyes because it might not be here when I open them again.”
Callie peeked around Finn’s shoulder to see Martin jump over all three bags and spin around in the bedroom, trying to see everything at once. “If I don’t get nothin’ else for Christmas, this will be the best one I ever had in my whole life. Can I invite friends over? There’s two bunk beds, so I can have three friends, right?”
Callie heard him talking but her mind was on Finn’s hand on her shoulder. She felt safe for the first time since the murder, but it went much deeper than that. Finn had always sent a wave of heat through her body. She’d just managed it better in Afghanistan.
“Callie!” Martin said loudly.
“Sorry, kiddo, I was gathering wool,” she said.
“I asked if I can unpack my bag right now.”
“Yes, you may,” Callie said.
Finn leaned over and whispered, sending shivers up her spine. “I figured he’d like this room. We need to talk.”
“He’s begged for bunk beds since he was big enough to know what they were,” she said softly.
Martin kicked off his shoes, climbed up to a top bunk, and sat cross-legged. “It’s my dream room. Can I read them books? I bet there’s some good stories in them. Can Shotgun come in here with me and sleep on one of the beds? Can I have friends spend the night?”
Before he could ask another million questions, Callie laid a hand on his shoulder. “Give Finn time to think and give yourself time to breathe. Yes, I’m sure you can read the books if you are careful with them. We’ll talk about the dog and friends later on, but right now you get settled in while Finn and I have an adult conversation. Okay?”
Martin smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Finn led the way into the living room and sat down on the sofa, patting the cushion beside him and motioning for her. “Callie, I mean it, I’m really glad to see you. Not just to have a hand or a cook. I missed you. I tried to get in touch, but the phone number you gave me was disconnected.”
“I tried to call you for a whole month after I got things straightened out with Martin. I figured you were married to Lala by then, but I wanted to know you’d made it home safe,” she said. “How did you wind up here? And how long have you been here? The neat freak Finn I knew wouldn’t still have unpacked boxes after even a week.”
He reached over and ran the back of his hand down her cheek, sending another round of flutters to her heart. “I’ve been here two days, Callie. I know that’s you sitting there, but I keep thinking you’ll vanish if I don’t keep touching you. We’ve got two years of catching up to do. Am I right in thinking there is no boyfriend, since you came here?”
“You are very right.” She held his hand to her cheek a few seconds longer before letting go. “Now tell me how you ended up in this little place.”
“The lady who owned this property, Verdie, sold it to me, lock, stock, and barrel. She wanted out of town before any more cold weather set in. I’m not sure what I bought in the house. I’ve spent two days in the barn and on the property counting cows,” he said.
“But it’s miles from Austin.”
“Comfort. I lived in Comfort, Texas, not too far from Austin. I looked for a place there, but nothing fit. Crazy to think of a ranch fitting like a pair of cowboy boots, but this place did. When Verdie said she wanted to sell it as it stood, it seemed like a dream come true. And now you are here for a few weeks and it seems like old times, sitting here, almost like we were back in the tents after a mission.”
“I missed that most of all,” she said.
“Hey, Callie, when is supper? Do I have time to read a little while?” Martin yelled from his room.
“He’s afraid to come out here for fear he’ll wake up and this will be a dream,” Callie said and then raised her voice. “Go ahead and read.”
“Speaking of supper, we should probably go to the store and lay in staples. It’s closed tomorrow,” he said. “I make a pretty mean ham and cheese sandwich and I do know how to open a can of tomato soup to go with it, but I’m not even sure there’s enough ham for three sandwiches.”
“I’ll make supper, Finn. I think I can do better than soup and sandwiches if you’ll show me where things are located.”
He chuckled. “Your guess is good as mine. I’ve been living on frozen pizza and sandwiches for two days.”
He stood up and held out his hand. “Trust me, there’s nothing in the refrigerator. The freezer is full, but everything is frozen. The pantry isn’t too shabby, but pickin’s are slim on staples.”
She put her hand in his. “Then I suppose we should go to the store.”
***
He pulled her up and held her hand just a minute longer than necessary. He could give her directions and the keys to the work truck, but he didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He’d thought he was ready for solitude and to get away from the big O’Donnell extended family, but after two days he was downright lonesome. Old Shotgun listened well, but he didn’t answer back with anything but a wagging tail.
Callie looked at the clock on the microwave. “When we get back, I could make supper while you do chores. He’s a magpie and seldom ever shuts up, but if he could help in any way, Martin would probably love to go with you. But if you’d rather take care of things without him driving you crazy with a million questions, he can read in his room or I’ll get him busy helping me.”
“I’d love to take him with me and I’m sure it would make Shotgun happy. Want to tell him to get his coat on so we can go to the store now?”
His heart seized up the second she was out of his sight, so he followed her. “The old work truck is yours anytime you want to use it. Keys are hanging on a nail out in the utility room. I’ll tell Gladys—she’s the lady who owns the store—that you can charge on the ranch bill,” he said.
Callie stopped at the bedroom door and knocked. “Martin, we’re going to the grocery store. Use a bookmark and get your coat.”
“When we get back, if you’re not too tired I expect I could use a hand this evening with the chores,” Finn said, but his eyes were on Callie the whole time.
Martin climbed down the ladder at the end of the bed as quickly as his legs could get him to the floor. “I’m not too tired. You just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll take care of it.”
“I can always use an extra set of eyes to check on things for me,” Finn said.
“I can do that. I like doin’ ranch work. Are we going to church tomorrow?” Martin asked.
“You want to go to church?” Finn was amazed. “My mama had to drag me to church when I was your age.”
“I like the music.” Martin tied his shoes and grabbed his coat. “Someday I’m going to play a guitar and sing.”
“Then, yes, we’ll go to church if Callie wants to,” Finn said.
“Thank you,” Callie whispered. “For everything.”
Finn led the way back to the k
itchen, with Callie and Martin behind him. “You are more than welcome.”
Her coat was still hanging on the back of the kitchen chair where she’d put it when she first came into the house. He picked it up and held it for her. The movement sent a whiff of her perfume wafting up to his nose, the scent triggering dozens of memories.
“I forgot to show your room to you. Want to see it now or when we get back?”
“Later,” she said.
***
An old-time bell clanged when Finn opened the door into the country store. It was well stocked for a little country store. Cans of food lined up neatly on spotless shelves. A small but clean-looking meat counter at the back, and one of those old cash registers with a hundred buttons on it was centered on the checkout counter, which was cluttered with a candy bar display, a jar of lollipops, and a couple of newspapers dated two days before.
“Help you?” A head that went with the gravelly voice popped up from behind the butcher station. “Hey, Finn, I thought you’d be in before now.”
“Hey, Miz Gladys, how are you this cold day?”
“Gettin’ too damn old for this kind of hours, but what’s a woman to do? Who you got there with you?” Gladys asked.
“This is Callie Brewster and her nephew, who lives with her. They are my new hired hands on Salt Draw. Can you make a note to let Callie charge on the ranch account, please, ma’am?”
“Of course I can. I’m Gladys Cleary. I’m glad to see he’s hiring a crew.” She wiped her hands on an oversized white canvas apron that testified to the fact that she’d been working with a hindquarter of beef all day. She was a tall, lanky woman with just a touch of white in her black hair. High cheekbones and dark eyes said that she had some Native American blood, but the name Cleary definitely sounded Irish.
“We pay by the tenth of each month, right?” Finn asked.
“That’s the way I do business with lots of folks around this area. I been doin’ the same with Salt Draw for years. Long as it gets paid by the tenth, I’m okay with it. What do you need?” Gladys asked.
“Staples mainly. Looks like the pantry and freezer are both full, but the refrigerator is empty. Starting with butter, cheese, and mayonnaise,” Callie said.
After the mega-sized supermarkets she was used to shopping in, the little store made her feel like she’d taken a step backward in time. The last time she’d been in a store like this was out around the Palo Duro Canyon area. She was five or six years old and her mother had taken her along into a small town on a Saturday for supplies when they’d gone to visit her grandparents.
Gladys tapped the counter beside the cash register. “First thing you’ll need is a cart. And what’s your name, son?”
“I’m Martin Brewster.” He stepped forward and stuck out his hand.
Gladys shook it. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Will you be going to school here?”
“Yes, ma’am. I suppose I will.”
“I’ll have to call Verdie later and tell her there’s a boy living on the ranch. She’d like that,” Gladys said. “I still have trouble believing Verdie is gone. She hung on to that ranch until the very end, hoping one of them grandkids of hers would want it. But kids these days, they want instant gratification and they want to live in the big cities where the fun is at. They don’t want to work their fingers to the bone on a ranch.”
Callie pushed the cart and Finn helped her fill the list she’d made on the way to the store.
Gladys talked nonstop. “She really got pissed at her grandkids when not a one of them offered to let her live with them or even near them. She checked herself into one of them fancy retirement homes in Dallas. Says she hopes she lives long enough to eat up every dime of the money. And if she don’t, she’s leavin’ what’s left to a ranch out in west Texas that takes in old jackasses that need a place to finish up their lives. She says they can put in a second home for aging donkeys right here in Burnt Boot. I hear from her nearly every day and she’s not happy at that place. Been a month now and she’s still not settled into it.”
Callie put two gallons of milk into the cart. “What about her kids?”
Gladys tossed in a can of black pepper. “Had two boys. Both dead. One left three kids. The other one had four by three different women. Finn, have the Brennan women and the Gallagher gals come sniffin’ around Salt Draw?”
“Who?” He picked up two packages of chocolate cookies and added them to the cart. “You mean the feuding families? Why would they come to Salt Draw?”
Callie laughed nervously.
“What’s so funny?” Finn asked.
“Can I have bananas?” Martin asked.
Finn picked up a brown paper bag and filled it with bananas.
“Feuding families? Women? I’m wondering which one of us is going to be doing the protecting,” she said.
“Feud? I thought Verdie was teasing.” Finn’s hand brushed Callie’s as they both reached for the bread at the same time.
“I don’t think so,” Gladys said.
“Like the Hatfields and McCoys? Callie wouldn’t let me watch it. She said it was too violent,” Martin said.
“Something like that,” Gladys said. “The Gallaghers own the Wild Horse Ranch over to one side of my property. The Brennans own the River Bend over on the other side. Been feudin’ since right after Moses led the people to the Promised Land, and they jump on any chance to fan the flames of the old feud. Besides, they both tried to buy Salt Draw from Verdie and she wouldn’t sell to them. It’d be a feather in the feud cap if either one of them could get Finn to sell out to them, or better yet if they could get it with a marriage license. Y’all goin’ to church tomorrow?”
“Thought we might,” Callie said.
“Well, sit in the middle aisle. The Brennans sit on one side and the Gallaghers on the other. The middle is neutral and sittin’ on either of their sides means you’re takin’ up with that bunch against the other one,” Gladys said. “This store, church, and my sister-in-law Polly’s beer joint are the only places they are even civil to each other. They each got their own private school on their ranches, so they don’t send their kids to the little public school here in Burnt Boot.”
“Good grief, they really are modern-day Hatfields and McCoys.” Callie laughed.
“Oh, honey, they make the Hatfield and McCoy families look right tame. Story has it that, back in the twenties, times got real tough here in Burnt Boot. So old man Gallagher set up a moonshine still down close to the Red River. He was making a fair livin’, keepin’ his family alive and the bill paid here at the store. That was back when my husband’s daddy had the store and the ranch. Anyway, the feds showed up one night and smashed up his still, carried him off to prison, and made him serve a year for bootleggin’. The Brennans were a religious lot, what with old Grandpa Brennan preachin’ at church when the minister needed a fill-in.” Gladys stopped beside the meat counter. “Don’t suppose you need anything from here.”
Callie nodded. “Everything is frozen at the house. Give me a pound of hamburger, and I’ll make cowboy hash for supper.”
“Will do,” Gladys said and went on. “Now, the Gallaghers figured the Brennans ratted them out to the feds. And there’s been a feud goin’ on now for nigh on to a hundred years. The bootleggin’ thing just kind of put the icin’ on the cake. Story has it that they were already crossways with each other because right about the turn of the century Freddy Gallagher fell in love with Molly Brennan. Then the morning of the wedding, Freddy got cold feet and joined the army, leaving poor Molly in humiliation at the altar.”
“Where do you sit in church?” Callie asked.
Gladys wrapped a pound of hamburger and put it in Callie’s cart. “In the middle. Fiddle Creek, that’s the name of my ranch, is right between their spreads. Both of them has tried to buy me out, but I’ll leave my land to the coyotes before I’d let either of them have it. Don’t get me wrong, I like both families, but I’m not being a part of their fight.”
<
br /> “Why wouldn’t Verdie sell Salt Draw to them?” Finn added a five-pound bag of apples to the cart as Callie pushed it toward the checkout counter. They didn’t always keep them in the little base store and Callie craved them worse than chocolate.
“Verdie hates the feud. She’s a pistol on wheels, and me and her and Polly decided years ago that we wasn’t going to get drug in the middle of the feud. We grew up together right here in Burnt Boot. It ain’t been easy, what with Polly’s cousin’s kid marryin’ into the Gallagher tribe and my cousin’s son marryin’ into the Brennans, but we all try to stay out of it best as we can.”
“Why is this place named Burnt Boot?” Martin asked.
“Back in the days of the cattle drives old Hiram Cleary got tired of lookin’ at the back end of cattle all day. He sat down right out there and pulled off his boot, threw it in the fire so he couldn’t go no further, and built a store to sell stuff to the people comin’ up the trail. He was an ancestor to my husband,” Gladys answered.
“Wow!” Martin said.
They said good-bye to Gladys and put their supplies in the backseat of the truck. When Finn was returning the cart to the store, Callie heard a pitiful whine. She ignored it at first, but when she heard it a second time, she stooped down and looked under the truck.
A little yellow kitten with big eyes stared back at her. She held out a hand and it limped over to her, sniffed her fingers, and meowed pitifully. She gathered it up and went back toward the store. Gladys opened the door before she even arrived.
“It ain’t mine and I don’t want it,” she said.
“I can’t leave it in the parking lot. It’ll get run over and killed. It’s already hurt and limping,” Callie said.
“You found it. It’s all yours,” Gladys said. “I got a whole barn full of cats and two that live in the house.”
“Can we keep it, please, Callie, can we?” Martin bailed out of the backseat of the truck and ran toward her and the cat.
“We’ve got a big house and Shotgun likes cats, so I don’t see why not,” Finn answered.
Martin held out his arms and Callie handed the kitten over to him. He tucked it inside his coat and carried it to the truck where he hummed to it the whole way home.
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