He glanced at Mavis. “See,” he mouthed before rolling down the window.
“You leaving?” She stepped off the big sorrel. Eyes narrowed, she shot Mavis a look before turning her attention to Dex.
“Yeah.” He rested his elbow out the window and leaned against the seat. “Gotta go meet Rafe.”
Deena unsnapped her tie-down and loosened her cinch. “I’m free for the dance. Want to go together?”
Mavis saw Dex’s shoulders tighten, but his smile and the tone of his voice didn’t change. “I just volunteered to take Mavis, but you can come with us.”
Deena’s smile fell away. “I think I’ll pass.” If the glare Deena shot at Mavis had had a solid form, Mavis would have been blown out of the truck. She turned back to Dex. “You sure about this?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
As Mavis pulled out of the rodeo grounds she glanced in the mirror. Deena stood holding her horse watching them leave. “You weren’t kidding about her wanting you.”
“They all want me.” Dex tipped his cap back then repositioned it on his head.
Mavis snorted in amusement. “Doesn’t she know I’m not standing in her way?”
Dex tried to hide his grin, but couldn’t. “You can’t have forgotten Deena. She’s naturally cranky.”
“I don’t remember her wanting to kill me. From the looks she gave me today, killing might be her game plan.” Mavis pulled onto the gravel road leading from the arena.
“Deena’s protective of her friends.” All the humor had disappeared from Dex’s expression. “It’s hard when you can’t protect them, and you usually don’t get to choose who they fall in love with.”
~-~
Dex climbed the steps of the Panzeri house, and turned to look at the nearly new silver Dodge pickup he’d driven. His dad had bought the three-quarter ton several years ago, but had only used it a handful of times before he’d lost his license. The law and Nana Lucy had taken it away after his third fender bender in a month.
The total helplessness Dex felt when it came to protecting his father ate at him. Driving was one more item in a long list of freedoms taken away by that bitch of a disease.
Turning back to the door, he hesitated. He’d been here a million times through the years, and at one time felt as much a part of Mavis’ family as he had his own. When Mr. P died suddenly, he’d comforted the two women while hiding his own grief. For a long time, he’d assumed Mrs. P would be his mother-in-law.
He knocked on the weathered wooden doorframe, not at all sure where he stood now with Mavis’ mom. If no one answered, he wouldn’t be surprised. He’d had to do some fast-talking to get Mavis to agree to go to the dance with him. Even after she’d agreed, he saw her continue to shake her head as if she’d wanted to back out.
Branches on the giant Cottonwoods flanking the front yard swayed in the hot summer breeze, while bullfrogs croaked their love songs from the banks of the canal running through the property. The irrigated alfalfa fields surrounding the house were so different from the sagebrush-covered hills of his ranch, but he loved them both.
The rap of his knuckles hitting wood echoed morosely in the dying light. When he was younger, he’d have knocked once then walked in, but not now. He wasn’t a member of the family anymore, and there was a real possibility Mavis would decide at the last minute to stay home.
He’d almost given up when Mrs. Panzeri swung the door open and waved him into the house.
“Dex, I wondered when you’d come visit.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a long hug. With a wave, she moved toward the kitchen. “I’ve seen your old pickup here a couple of times, but you didn’t come in to visit. I don’t bite, you know.”
Neither the house, nor Mrs. Panzeri had changed in the years since he’d been gone. Framed prints of Mavis competing on various horses and older black and white photos of Mavis’ dad riding broncs covered the walls. The first saddle Mavis had won sat on an elaborate wrought iron stand in the corner of the living room.
In the opposite corner was an older saddle engraved with the words, Idaho Cowboys Association Champion Saddle Bronc Rider 1989, on the fender. Mr. P had dominated the ICA during the last half of the eighties. More saddles were stored in the tack room, and silver spurs on the mantle told of an earlier second place win.
Several antique bits hung in the hallway. The Panzeris might only own twenty acres on the edge of town, but they were rodeo through and through. “Sorry, Mrs. P. I was checking on a horse Mavis is riding for a friend.”
Mrs. Panzeri dunked her hands in a sink full of soapy water and washed the dinner dishes. “Fill me in on what you’ve been up to since I saw you last.”
The years since he and Mavis had broken up might as well have gone up in a puff of smoke. It was like he’d been here yesterday.
“Your daddy was bragging to everyone who’d listen about all the rodeos you’ve won.” She looked over her shoulder, her round cheeks pink from the heat of the water. “We’re proud of you, too. I’ll bet Ben is happy you’re home.”
Dex’s breath hitched in his throat as the weight of worry settled onto his shoulders. “Yes, ma’am. He’s really proud when he can remember who I am.”
The small woman grabbed a dishtowel and wiped her hands. She took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with lemonade then held it out to him. “I was so sorry to hear about the Alzheimer’s. It’s getting worse then?”
Dex took a long swallow. Mrs. Panzeri was the only woman he knew who still made fresh lemonade. Plus, it bought him time to get his emotions under control. “Some days are better than others. Last week, we talked cattle for three hours, and it was like nothing had changed. Then he took a drink of his coffee, looked up and asked who I was.” Dex cleared his throat. He’d better quit talking about his dad, or he was going to choke up in front of Mrs. P. In the nick of time, he heard the clatter of boots hitting wooden stair treads.
Mavis rushed into the kitchen, sliding to a stop, surprise evident in her expression. “Oh, you’re here. I can usually hear Betsy when you roar up the driveway.” Her sparkly purple tank top was tucked into jeans that sat low on her hips. A tooled leather belt circled her waist. She wouldn’t have been sexier if she’d been in a mini dress and stilettos.
Dex couldn’t stop a low whistle of appreciation. “I know I’m early, but I wasn’t sure if you’d try to back out of our date, so I gave myself enough time to re-convince you.”
“This isn’t a date. You said you needed me to show up at the dance so you had an excuse not to take Deena.” Her brows drew down in consternation, and her hands settled on her hips. “Kind of a coward’s way out if you ask me. You need to be honest with her.”
“You agreed to help me this one time. Come on. We’ll have fun.” Now, if he could keep the two women apart. He and Deena had been friends for forever, but something had changed since he’d come home. Deena wanted more than he could give, and she hadn’t forgiven Mavis for hurting him.
He wasn’t sure he had either.
Mavis stared right through him for a moment before nodding. “I’ll ride to the dance, and I’ll ride home. I’ll even dance with you a couple of times to make it look legit, but don’t go getting any ideas.”
Oh, he had ideas all right. Some had been lodged in the back of his mind for six years. Some, the ones he ignored, involved payback. Some were downright dirty, and he was positive Mavis wasn’t ready to hear them.
“You’re going to have to dance with Deena, you know.” Mavis pulled some money from her purse and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans along with a tube of lip-gloss before turning to him.
“I always do.” He gave Mrs. P a hug and followed Mavis to the truck.
As he drove down the driveway, Mavis turned to him. “Deena needs to know friendship is all you want. It’ll be kinder in the long run.”
“I told Deena that, but she doesn’t seem to listen.” He’d tried to talk to her when he’d first come home. She’d assured him friendship was a
ll she wanted too, but her actions told a different story.
“And there’s nothing else you can do?”
“Nothing short of being rude, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“You might have to.” When he didn’t answer, Mavis shrugged then trailed her fingers across the dashboard. “This your Dad’s new truck?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty nice, but it’s not Betsy.” Dex grinned as he cranked up the AC. The beast was luxury with four-wheel drive after cruising in the old farm truck. Betsy’s air conditioning had checked out over a decade ago. Her heater hadn’t been far behind.
In less than five minutes, they’d arrived at the high school gym. Dex found a parking spot behind the service station across the street, and they headed toward the lights and music.
As they entered the gymnasium, Gladys rushed across the room, hugging first Mavis then Dex. “See, I told you when you came into the café you made a nice couple. Glad to see you two together.”
“But we’re not—” Before Mavis could finish her sentence Clarence threw an arm around each of their shoulders. “We knew you couldn’t stay away from our Dex, although I admit, I was beginning to have my doubts on whether you were coming back.”
“No, really, you’re not listening.” Mavis’ cheeks flushed bright red, and her hands were clenched. “We’re not—”
Person after person welcomed her back to town, and several more commented on her appearance with him. She smiled and hugged, too polite to raise her voice. No one seemed to pay attention to her protests about the two of them.
Dex sure wasn’t going to step in to correct their impressions. The only one who stayed away was Deena. She leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the gym. When the local band started a two-step, Dex wandered over and stood next to her. “Having fun?”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” His usually happy friend had a scowl on her face. “She’s leaving again.”
“It’s okay. I can handle this.” Dex held out his hand. “Dance?”
Deena nodded, but when the music faded away at the end of the song, she gave him a peck on the cheek and walked away.
Dex wandered through the crowd until he found Mavis standing by the refreshment table. She handed him a glass of punch. “Looks like Deena isn’t any happier with you than me. You sure she knows we’re not involved?”
Dex didn’t want to dig himself in any deeper so he kept quiet.
“You might be able to convince her with a sledge hammer.” The corners of Mavis’ mouth turned up into a smile. “I’m kidding—kind of. Be firm. The same way I did with you. Leave no room for doubt.”
Mavis thought he was in agreement. She thought she’d left no room for doubt about their relationship, but she was wrong. He had no intention of being simply a friend. He’d lost her once, but he’d never stopped loving her. He wouldn’t lose her again. Not only did he doubt her words, he had hope.
Hope was a dangerous thing.
CHAPTER SIX
Randi reached across and punched Mavis in the shoulder as they rode side by side down the ditch bank. “And you kept insisting you weren’t interested in Dex anymore.”
Her laugh irritated Mavis more than the punch. “I’m not.” Mavis nudged Tuneful into a trot, hoping Randi would shut up.
No such luck.
The laughter continued. “Then why were you at the dance with him?”
“We went as friends. Make that acquaintances.” Mavis relaxed into the saddle and let Tuneful pick up a lope. The morning air was already heating up, and she was glad they’d planned the ride for seven a.m.
She stopped at the spot where the canal widened. Loosening her reins, she let Tuneful pick her way into the center of the ditch. The mare pawed the water with one front foot then the other until both horse and rider were soaked.
Randi waited on the canal bank. “Not by the way he kept looking at you, he doesn’t. You should have seen his glare when you slow danced with Riley Tucker. If looks could kill.”
“Seems I have that affect on a lot of people lately. The only reason I was with him was to convince Deena to leave him alone.” Mavis rode Tuneful out of the water. The mare shook as Mavis clung to the saddle horn. “Have you ever seen such a water bug? I think she’d lay down in it if I’d let her.”
“You’re changing the subject.” Randi fell into step with her as they rode toward home.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Mavis rode ahead and hoped Randi would drop the subject.
They dismounted when they reached the barn. Mavis slipped a rope halter on Tuneful and began to unsaddle. Her hope was in vain.
Randi pulled in a deep breath. “Deena told me she and Dex were just friends, but she watches him like a kid watches toy commercials. I can almost hear her brain screaming I want that.” She tied her horse to the hitching rail and dropped onto the grass.
Mavis carried her saddle into the tack room. Grabbing a brush, she began currying Tuneful while she answered. “Dex says Deena’s in love with him, and he doesn’t feel the same way. He’s tried to tell her, but apparently she isn’t listening.”
“Dex and Deena have hung around together a lot since he’s been home.” Randi grinned the giggled. “Maybe Dex is has confused like with love.”
“What’s so funny? He’s a great looking guy, and nice.” Mavis led Tuneful across the barnyard, but Randi’s laughter trailed behind her like an orphaned lamb. “I could see Deena falling for him.”
Randi stood and followed Mavis. “Even Deena has to see he’s only ever loved you.”
“We broke up a long time ago. That’s over.” Mavis turned Tuneful into the arena and watched as the mare chose the perfect place to roll. She forced a smile as she turned to Randi. “I think they’d make a nice couple.”
“Are you naturally dense, or did the Texas sunshine fry your brain?” When Mavis didn’t answer, Randi turned Geezer loose in the arena. The old guy lay down with a groan and tried to roll. “Even when he was young, he couldn’t roll completely over. Years ago, he’d stand up and flop down on the other side. Now, it’s too much trouble.”
Mavis stared at the horses, but she wasn’t seeing them. Even if Dex did still love her, his family’s opinion of her hadn’t changed.
They’d been so young when he’d had their life all planned out with the help of his grandmother. Back then, he couldn’t understand why Mavis wouldn’t give up everything she’d dreamed of to make him happy.
Even though she knew it would probably be for the best, the idea of Dex with another woman, even Deena, made her miserable. She took a deep breath, determined to fight her way out of these leftover feelings for him.
She wasn’t the same girl she’d been six years ago. She’d run from her problems then. She hadn’t been strong enough to take on the man and his family. This time she was standing her ground.
She knew one thing for sure. She could have been a ranch partner, but not a ranch wife, especially under his Nana’s definition. Maybe Deena could be the wife the Dunbar family wanted for Dex.
“You still here?” Randi’s voice called her into the present.
Mavis smiled at her friend. “Yeah, just thinking.”
“Remember us? We always get into trouble when we think. Stop it!” Randi slung her arm around Mavis’ shoulders and laughed. “Go with your gut on Dex.”
Randi and Mavis’ mother were the only ones who knew the whole story. Randi had tried to talk to Dex way back then, but he was stuck on the idea of living on the ranch. Her mother had even tried to talk to Mrs. Dunbar. Mavis hadn’t asked how the conversation had gone, and her mom hadn’t offered, but she could imagine.
Mavis wound her arm around Randi’s waist and pulled her toward the house. “Instead of going with my gut, let’s go to town. Clarence’s pie fixes everything.”
On the drive into Homedale, Randi tried to bring up Dex again, but Mavis refused to take the bait. “Let’s leave the subject of Dex alone. Tell me whose horse is workin
g good.”
During the years before she left, Mavis and Randi could spend whole afternoons talking barrel horses, who was winning, who wasn’t, and who was riding the next phenomenon.
Recalling some of their adventures, they laughed as they entered the wide, glass door of the Shamrock Café. Randi led the way to the stools fronting the counter.
“Well there, missies. What’s your pleasure today?” Gladys hurried toward them, cleaning rag out and a smile on her face.
“Pie!” Their voices rang out together, Mavis’ higher, Randi’s an octave lower.
At the sound of their voices, Clarence stuck his head out the pass-through window and waved. “Ladies.”
Opening the door to the revolving glass display case, Gladys looked at Mavis. “I’ll bet you want lemon meringue.” She shifted her gaze to Randi. “And there’s one piece of pecan left for you.”
Both women nodded in agreement.
Gladys plopped a plate in front of each. She grabbed forks from a bin below the counter then reached into the display case again. “I’ll put this piece of cherry pie in a to-go box. You’ll want to take it to Dex. He loves Clarence’s cherry pie.”
The rubber soles on Gladys’ shoes squeaked in time to her steps as she pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen.
Mavis had been craving Clarence’s pie for a couple of days, but with Gladys’ words the sweet lemon flavor could have been sawdust. She turned to find Randi watching her, a bite of pecan pie halfway to her lips.
“Is there something you neglected to tell me?” Randi’s eyebrows raised and her eyes widened. “Gladys certainly thinks there’s something between you and Dex.”
Mavis dropped her fork to the plate a little more forcefully than she’d intended. It bounced then clattered onto the counter. With infinite care, she placed it onto the plate and plucked a napkin from the holder to wipe up the smear. When the counter was clean, she looked at Randi. “What is it with this town? I’m not dating Dex, sleeping with him or marrying him. I’m not even friends with him.” Her intended whisper came out louder than she’d planned.
Cowboy Six Pack Page 23