by Caryl McAdoo
“No, this is it, the last one.” He came around to her side and wrapped her in his arms. “But unless you agree—if you aren’t a hundred percent in favor—I won’t do it.”
She squeezed him hard then pulled back. “A scripture came to mind...” She slipped her hand into his and pulled him toward the kitchen.
“Okay, that’s good. Want me to guess? Or were you going to share?”
She poured him a cup, grinning and shaking her head. After passing it to him, she got herself one. “You’re so bad, of course I’m going to tell you. Come sit.”
He followed her to the patio. “I’d love to. I love you.”
“And I love you, Buck.” She sat first, and he eased down with her on his right as always. “No, it’s what Naomi told Ruth, paraphrased; wherever you go, I will go. Wherever you lodge, I will lodge.” She sipped the brew and watched her words settle over him.
“So I take it you’re in, right?”
“Yes, dear. I’m all in. For whatever you want to do or believe you need to do. Walter never asked me for any promises, we didn’t have the time. But you know how I am about keeping your word. A promise is a promise.”
“There is a problem though.”
“And what’s that?”
He looked off toward the goldfish pond a few long minutes without answering. Was it a horrible problem? Was he going to tell her she couldn’t be a part of this with him? That would change everything.
“Dub, what is it?”
A heavy sigh escaped, and he looked down at her. “I can’t fix Austin without changing Washington first.”
She burst out laughing, and he withdrew. “Washington, huh? You had me thinking some horrible things. Then again…” No way was her man going off half cocked. He had it all figured out, maybe even written down in one of his beautiful leather journals. Mercy, she was still having a ball reading all his entries, he’d been writing stuff down forever. “So, tell me everything. Exactly what are you planning?”
He pulled her to her feet then nodded toward the kitchen. “More coffee? It’ll be more comfortable in there.”
“Cooler, that’s for sure. Sun’s barely up, and I’m already all sticky.”
Through that pot and half of the next one, he laid out his plan. At first, it almost seemed too farfetched. People were going to think he was crazy, but when he got around to the praying part, goose bumps danced up both arms and legs then threatened to lift her right out of her seat. Praise the Lord, it was going to work.
“Sounds to me like God’s in this.” She put her hand over his and smiled. “It’s brilliant, honey. I don’t see how it can fail.”
Before he could answer, Audrey swept into the room. “Good morning, you old married couple. Getting hungry for breakfast yet?”
“Hey, lady! Who you calling old? Surely not me and my beautiful child bride.”
Marge laughed. “Get you a cup of coffee, Audrey, and come sit with us a while.”
“Okay, I will.” She patted Dub’s shoulder on the way by. “But only if you promise not to call me Shirley.”
He slapped the table and laughed from the belly. She’d given him a big dose of his own medicine. “Oh alright, I promise.”
Marge reached up and swiped at a happy tear then spoke in whispered tones. “You think she’ll be willing to relocate with us?”
“We can leave it up to her. She can go or stay here and run the B&B if she wants. I don’t think Vicki will think twice.”
“Oh, no, me neither. Wherever we go, she’ll go, that’s a given.” She was still giggling when Audrey returned with the carafe, and enjoyed visiting and laughing with two of her favorite people until all the coffee was gone.
Dub stood and pulled Marge to her feet. “Come on, let’s all get breakfast. It’ll be just like the good old days.”
“Oh not you, too. We’ve only been married six weeks.”
“Forty-six days if we’re counting.”
* *
At first Vicki tried to resist the savory aroma of frying bacon, but wouldn’t do for her to stay in bed with pork in the pan. She freshened up a bit, but didn’t see any need for war paint at the unholy hour. She fluffed her hair, shuffled into her bunny slippers, then strolled in to see what the fine day held besides bacon. The couple she wished were her parents did a little dance around the stove with the older sister she never had. What fun.
“Okay, folks, I’m here. Now we can eat.”
Dub shot her a smirky glare, but no darlin’ came out of his mouth. “Afternoon, glad you could join us.” She hated not hearing him call her that, but did understand Lady Bug’s jealous streak. She had one of her own.
Marge nodded toward the fridge. “You can put the fruit salad on the table, sweetheart. And get the orange juice, too, while you’re in there.” She looked at the other two. “Anyone want milk?”
“That sounds good.”
Vicki did as her new boss lady asked, but once she took her place, her something’s-up radar went to pinging. Didn’t seem the cook was privy to whatever the Prestons had up their sleeves. She waited patiently halfway through breakfast, but after the third knowing silent exchange passed between the newlyweds, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Okay, what’s up? You two are acting so weird.”
Marge elbowed her husband. “You tell her.”
The man finished chewing his last bite of biscuit loaded with cream gravy then chased it with several good gulps of ice cold milk; then like he’d been waiting for an excuse to stop shoveling carbs, set his fork on his plate. “Has to do with the third promise I made Nancy.”
“Third? I thought there were only two. Help the young man who killed her and give all your money away. What else did she want you to do?”
“There was one more thing. I promised her I’d do my best to do something about the scoundrels and carpetbaggers in Austin.”
“Cool, so we’re starting a PAC? That’ll be fun.”
Audrey’s forehead wrinkled. “What’s that? Like a blood promise? I am not pricking my finger.”
“No, silly, a political action committee.”
“Oh. Politics?” She faced Dub. “You promised Nancy to get involved in politics?”
Dub shrugged at his cook then smiled at Vicki. “No PAC.”
“Awe, I’d be really good at that, bossing the bosses. So what are we playing? Twenty questions?”
“No, dear.” Marge smiled. “We’re running for governor.”
“You’re throwing your hat into the Texas gubernatorial race? A little late aren’t we? Isn’t the election this fall?” She looked from her to him, they seemed dead serious. “Or plenty early. So you want to be Governor Dub, cool.”
“Actually, what I really want to be is President of the Republic of Texas, but Houston and his bunch messed that up, so I’m willing to settle for Governor General.”
“Governor General?” Audrey’s face puckered again. “I didn’t know we had one of those.”
For the next half hour, he explained his plan, and the more he talked, the better Vicki liked it. He may be a thousand to one shot, but with his kind of money and all that charisma, stranger things had happened. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do—and be successful at—as far as she was concerned, long as he set his mind to it.
“So, what’s my part? And when do we get started?”
“Media, especially the Internet. I want to outdo them all when it comes to getting the word out; Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and whatever else some twelve-year-old comes up with in the next three years.”
“Excellent. This is going to be so much fun, and the way I see things, it might work. What’s my budget?”
“Whatever it takes.”
She feigned blushing. “Oh, Daddy, I love it when you talk like that.”
Dub faced Audrey. “Want to buy some real estate?”
“Sure, I’m willing to do whatever you and Marge need me to, don’t know anything about buying land though.”
“Well, I do, but i
f Marge or I were to go shopping, the price would double, so–”
“You aren’t talking about selling the Apple Orchard are you?”
Marge spoke up. “Oh, no, dear. That will never happen.”
While they talked about locations, and possible properties, Vicki tuned them out. She intended to show him a thing or four. His scheme barked right up her alley, and in this arena, she could shine. She’d make them both so proud and have so much fun doing it. To think in four short years, they could all be going to Austin then on to Washington. The whole thing was just too cool.
The prospect sounded way better than mere fun, it would be life changing.
THE END…
for now but…
Author’s Note
Lady Luck’s a Loser was originally published by the Gale Group’s Five Star Press as The Apple Orchard’s Bed and Breakfast in hardback. Libraries comprise the lion’s share of their market.
To set the record straight, we wrote the first five chapters of Apple Orchard and submitted it to a contest at The Ozark’s Writers’ Conference and won first prize in 1997 way before The Bachelor reality show ever aired on TV, but we didn’t finish the manuscript until after Hazel Rummy’s visit to our DFW Writers’ Workshop. Hazel was an editor at The Gale Group’s Thorndike Press and heard the premise right before Ron and I dropped her off at the DFW Airport on a Sunday morning. The last thing she asked, “When can you have this finished?”
That was in August. “How does the end of the year sound?”
We mailed her the manuscript in late December, and she called on January 9th, my mother’s birthday, for our agent’s contact information. We had a deal and a June pub date by mid January. If only all manuscripts could turn around so fast. She had an author who had not met a deadline and said ours was so clean, she decided we could complete our edits with her and slide it into that slot. Sounded great! A divine plan to be sure.
My sweetheart isn’t a public, marketing kind of guy, and insisted only my name should go on Lady Luck’s a Loser so he wouldn’t be expected to jump through any hoops. The man likes his privacy. I like the man, what can I say?
If you’re interested in the next installment, Conventional Love, I’d really like to know. At this date, it’s started, but if we get enough responses, we’ll write on it straightaway until it’s done. There’s one new character added to the mix who should be fun, a young political consultant Dub hires. And Vicki thinks he is…
Author’s Acknowledgements
First and foremost, whenever I give acknowledge, give credit or thanks—glory if you will—my Holy Father is always at the top of the list. He continually overwhelms me with His blessings and favor, gifts, talents...as Andrea Crouch sang in his awesome “To God Be The Glory,” I owe to God everything I am or hope to be.
When speaking of writing and who I need to thank, next is the DFW Writers’ Workshop; what an amazing group of people God gathered to teach Ron and me the craft of writing creative fiction! John and Joan McCord, Jack Ballas, and Donald Whittington took us under their wings and mentored us. How I pray the Lord of glory will bless them a hundred fold of their blessings to us.
Hazel Rumney, editor of The Apple Orchard Bed and Breakfast back in 2002 from which this title is being re-released has remained our friend through these years and was a big part of this story being what it is. Thank you, Hazel, hugs and blessings!
Author’s Biography
Caryl McAdoo has ten titles from five publishers including her most recent, highly successful historical Christian romance Vow Unbroken set in 1832 Texas from Simon & Schuster’s Howard Books. Her eleventh, Lady Luck’s a Loser, is a re-release of number four, The Apple Orchard Bed and Breakfast. The novelist enjoys painting and singing new songs the Lord gives her. She lives in the woods of Clarksville in Red River County with husband Ron and four grandsons.