by Maree, Kay
“What? Me, why?”
“Like I said, I’m getting on in years. My bones are aching. I want to give the Rusty Wagon to someone who cares about her as much as I do. Besides, I don’t want to leave it to your mother. She would just sell it to the first person silly enough to offer her money and be done with it. She doesn’t care for the old girl the way you do. She wouldn’t love her the way you would.”
“Grandpa, are you sure? The Rusty Wagon is your life.”
I was in shock. I couldn’t believe Grandpa would want to give up something he spent years building with Grandma Lilly. The Rusty Wagon kept him sane and occupied after she died.
“The Rusty Wagon was my life. It’s not anymore. I want to spend what’s rest of my life pottering around the farm. Besides, I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. You’re a smart cookie, Sweet Pea, and I can tell you want to make changes. By making the old girl yours, you can have the freedom to do whatever the hell you like without feeling like you’ll offend me,” he chuckled.
It was final. Grandpa had decided. The Rusty Wagon is mine.
“Grandpa, I… I don’t know what to say,” I muttered, tears welling in my eyes.
“Say yes,” he chuckled.
“Grandpa, thank you. I don’t know what to say except thank you. I… I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“Don’t change her too much and live a happy life, my darlin’ and that will be payment enough.”
Danica
Once he signed the Rusty Wagon over to me, Grandpa took to retirement, mostly staying out on the farm tending to Grandma Lilly’s vegetable garden. He would come and sit at the bar every Friday and catch up on the gossip of the town.
Most people thought I was just running things for Grandpa, and we didn’t bother to correct them. Let them believe what they want to believe.
The one person I told was Walker.
“So, this means you’ll be around for a while longer,” he said, pulling me into his arms.
“Well, yes, I guess it does.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Do you think I can do it? Run the Wagon, I mean.”
“Darlin’, you’ve been doing it since you got here. The only difference is that now you’ll be doing it as the Boss-Lady,” he grinned, giving me a quick kiss. “I’m proud of you Baby, you’re going to do great.”
Armed with the knowledge that Walker supported me, I set to work. I kept things at the Rusty Wagon the same as when Grandpa had it except; I made it more efficient. I made repairs and improvements, set the dining area out for better flow and easier serving for the kitchen staff. I employed additional busboys and bar staff. I upgraded the computer software, modernised the payroll and ordering systems, but kept as much of the Rusty Wagon same as I could.
I had a meeting with the working girls to find out what I could do for them as the new owner. They were worried. Yes, I am Billy’s granddaughter, but I am also a city girl.
Was I disgusted by them?
Did I judge them for having sex for money?
Would I shut them down?
Would the girls be out on the street?
Grandma Lilly used to say; “They’re working women just like nurses or bank clerks. It’s just their work is something most people don’t like to talk about. If being a Fancy Lady is the profession they have chosen, they are not being forced into it, they are safe and happy, then who are we to judge.”
Grandma Lilly didn’t have a problem with them, and neither did I.
“Promise me you won't work the entire time I’m gone,” Grandpa insisted as I drove him to the airport.
My parents finally convinced Grandpa to visit them in the city. There was a private plane waiting for him at the airport. He insisted that we could have caught the train, but I wouldn’t hear of it. He was still having trouble with his hip from the fall. Much like I insisted on driving him, Walker insisted I take his truck. Grandpa’s truck was still having issues, breaking down regularly. It made me feel all warm and gooey knowing Walker cared about us.
“I won’t Grandpa, I promise.”
“Don’t lie to me, girly-girl. I know you are lying.”
“How?” I asked, turning into the airport parking lot.
“I’m Grandpa. I know everything.” I laughed; it was the same thing he used to tell me as a kid.
I parked and walked Grandpa into the terminal. There was a porter waiting to take his bag. Once he was checked in, the porter escorted us to the VIP area where a buggy was waiting for us.
“Sir, if you will,” the porter said, indicating to the passenger seat of the cart.
“I can walk,” Grandpa insisted.
“Sir, please.”
“May I accompany my Grandfather to the plane?” I asked when Grandpa grumbled.
“Certainly, Miss.”
“Come on Grandpa, all aboard,” I smirked patting the seat beside me.
“You know you get all hoity-toity around all this fancy stuff,” Grandpa huffed.
“Sorry, force of habit.”
Ten minutes later we arrived at the private lounge. Poor Grandpa looked so overwhelmed with all the attention and the yes sir, may I help you, sir.
“Sir, Miss, please avail yourselves of the amenities. Your plane will be ready in an hour. I will come and get you when it is time to board.” The porter gave a curt bow and left.
“I could get used to this,” Grandpa conceded, patting his belly.
I convinced him to accept a table in the lounge. As soon as we were seated, a server arrived offering drinks, running through the menu available. Grandpa’s eyes just about popped out of his head when he was presented with the biggest stake I have ever seen.
“Take it from someone who has a lived in the uber rich and regular people's life. It’s a nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there,” I replied, sipping my coffee.
God, how I miss excellent coffee. The coffee in Venom Ridge is good, but there is just something about coffee made for you by a professional artisan barista.
“How do you mean,” Grandpa asked, sipping on his tumbler of whisky.
“How would you feel eating stake like this every day? Don’t you think after a while it wouldn’t taste the same, that you wouldn’t want a bigger stake? That’s what having an endless supply of money is like. You expect the best each and every time, and when you don’t get it, you take it personally. It can make you cold, hollow, shallow.”
“It didn’t make you that way.”
“No. Because I had you and Grandma to keep me grounded and sane.”
“My Lillian was a special woman. She also kept me grounded and sane.” Grandpa was quiet for a while, watching the planes take off and land out the window. “Danica, I don’t know if I have ever told you this, but I am so immensely proud of you. You didn’t waste the opportunities given to you. You didn’t let your family's money spoil you. Anyone else would have squandered the opportunities and become like one of those insufferable reality TV people. Maybe I’m not explaining things properly. It’s just, I love you kiddo and I’m proud of you. That’s all I mean.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.” My voice thick with emotion. “I am who I am because of you. I love you too.”
“Apologies Sir forgive the intrusion. Your flight is ready,” the porter informed.
“Well, let’s get this circus going.” I stood, and Grandpa wrapped his arms around me, giving me one of his signature crushing hugs. “Take care of my bar.”
“It’s my bar now, Grandpa.”
“Yes, it is. Just don’t let it rule your life. I want you to have fun while I’m away. Promise me.”
“I will.”
Danica
Ever had one of those weeks where everything that could go wrong, goes horribly fucking wrong?
That has been my week.
It started when Grandpa slipped down the steps, bruising his hip. He tried to act like it didn’t bother him,
but he finally conceded when Walker found him standing outside his truck. He couldn’t put any pressure on his leg to pull himself into the cab. I assured Grandpa I could run The Rusty Wagon on my own.
Big mistake.
Only half the girls had clients. Those who did only had them because they cut their rates. It was insulting.
The meat for the Sunday roast was spoiled. When we investigated, the refrigeration unit had been unplugged. It wasn’t like the unit failed; it had been deliberately unplugged.
Our beer supplier didn’t deliver, and the beer we did have was flat. The compressor for the system I just fixed, seized, causing the system to lose pressure.
I’m fairly sure a bar with no beer is the first sign of the Apocalypse.
The Rusty Wagon was supposed to be safe in my hands. Well, let me tell you, the only reason it is not currently on fire is because it’s raining.
“Ok, I get it. Karma has finally caught up with me. I am being punished for every bad thing I have ever done.”
It was after midnight, I’m cold, wet, miserable, and yelling at the freaking sky. It is pouring. Not just raining, it is pouring down with rivers of water. I would go back inside the bar but the way I feel about the place at the moment if I never see it again it will be too soon.
I had my feet on the front bumper, hanging upside down in the engine bay, trying to find the problem. I was cursing out the world, smacking the torch with the dying batteries against the side of the engine, hoping it would hold out long enough for me to figure out what was wrong.
“Need a hand?”
I screamed, jumping up, slamming my head into the open bonnet. Stunned, I overbalanced, falling backwards, landing in incredibly muscular arms, coming to rest against an extremely warm chest.
“Danica, Baby are you alright? Didn’t you hear me calling out to you?”
“Walker?” I reached up, touching the top of my head. Thankfully, my hand came away without any blood.
“Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Let’s get you out of the rain.” Walker carried me to his truck, placing me gently in the passenger seat. He climbed into the driver's seat, flicking the interior light on. “Let’s get a look at you.” Walker reached over, tilting my head towards him so he could get a better look. “You have a bit of a lump, but it doesn’t look like you’ve done any damage.”
“Walker, what are you doing here?” I asked, feeling a little woozy.
“I came looking for you.”
“Why?” My brain was foggy from the head knock and Walker being so close. He still had hold of my face, the heat from his hands seeping into my skin. Concern filling his stormy grey eyes.
“Your eyes are so pretty,” he whispered. His breath fanning across my lips, sending shivers through me.
“Wha…. What?”
“I just have to…” His lips touched mine in a feather-light kiss. His soft, full lips on mine heated my blood, forcing the chill from my bones.
“Walker…”
“I had to kiss you, just once.”
“Walker, what’s going on?”
Even I didn’t know exactly what I was referring to. It was the perfect question that covered all bases. Why was he here? Why did he kiss me? Why did he look so concerned?
His answer was not what I expected.
“Darlin’, Billy’s in the hospital.”
“What?”
I didn’t know what to process first. Walker kissed me. My Grandpa is in hospital. Walker kissed me. My mind raced and froze all that the same time.
“He’s going to be ok,” he reassured me.
“What happened?”
“I stopped in to check on him. He was in a lot of pain, so I called the Doc. She came out, yelled at him for being a stubborn old goat and sent him to hospital. I was coming to get you and take you in to see him when the Doc called to say the pain meds have kicked in and he’s sleeping. I can still take you if you like, but the Doc said now that he’s sleeping it’s probably best if he rest’s.”
“He’s been telling me he’s fine. I should have paid more attention. Grandpa kept telling me to stop fussing over him, at he was fine and didn’t need a damn babysitter. He really is a stubborn old goat. Now he’s in hospital all alone. I… I should be there. Walker, he hates hospitals. He must be so frightened.”
“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” Walker brushed away the tears that fell. “Billy is fine, I promise you. The Doc put him in hospital to manage his pain so he could get some rest. Stupid bastard has been fooling everyone. It’s not your fault ok.”
“Are… are you sure he’s ok?” I cried. The relentless tears refusing to stop.
“Yes, I promise he’s ok.” He kissed me again. The pressure of his lips on mine grounding me. “Here….” Walker pulled his sheriff’s jacket from the backseat, covering me with it like a blanket. “You’re starting to shiver. I’ll just go lock up the truck, then let’s get you home.”
Walker kept me talking on the drive home, not wanting me to go to sleep in case I had a concussion. By the time I got home, he knew about all the crappy things that had happened during the week and all I wanted to do was go to sleep.
“Darlin’ why don’t you have a shower and warm up, I’ll go make you some toast.”
I walked through the house in the dark, making my way to the bathroom. I flicked on the light switch, nothing. I flicked it a few more times, still nothing.
“Shit. Walker, I think the power is out,” I called.
“Sorry Darlin’ looks like the storm took the power out.” Walker came down the hall, the torch on his phone lighting the way.
“Great. Grandpa’s generator isn’t working. I’ve ordered the parts to fix it, but they won’t be here until next week. That means no light, no heat, no phone, no hot water.” I sounded miserable. I felt miserable. All I wanted was a hot shower, some toast and bed. “You don’t have to stay. With the way this storms kicking up, I’m sure you have Sheriff things to do. I’ll just go to bed.”
“Sorry Darlin’ but you’re not staying alone. You copped one hell of a head knock and I’m not leaving you alone until I know you don’t have a concussion. You’re stuck with me. Let’s go back to my place. I have a generator which means you can have a hot shower and something to eat and the wood fire should keep us warm enough.”
“Walker, that’s very kind, but…”
“But nothing, I’m bigger and uglier than you. You won’t win this fight,” he smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“You think I’m ugly?” It was supposed to sound sarcastic, instead it just sounded pathetic.
“Not even on your worst day would I think you’re ugly. You’re the prettiest woman I have ever seen.” He gave me a kiss on the tip of my nose. “C’mon Darlin’ the sooner we move, the sooner you can get warm.”
Walker drove us back to his place. It was closer than I thought. Only fifteen minutes away from Grandpa’s place. I didn’t say much as he led me inside, guided me to the bathroom, handing me a fluffy towel from the cupboard. I took longer than necessary, standing under the warm water, letting it melt the chill from my bones. I dried off, wrapping a towel around my hair.
Only then did I realise I’d left home without dry clothes. My clothing and underwear were soaking wet, there was no way I could put them back on.
I walked across the hall into what was Walker’s bedroom.
In the middle of the room was a king-size wooden bed with steel grey sheets and a soft looking red and blue checked comforter. It looked warm and inviting. I bet the sheets and pillows would smell like him.
Fighting the urge to curl up and go to sleep, I rummaged through his draws looking for something to wear. His sweats would be too big for me, so I kept looking until I found a pair of boxer briefs. Forcing myself not to think about the fact that these were Walker’s boxer briefs and what was normally contained within them, I pulled them on under the towel. Next, I went in search
of something to cover the rest of me. Thrown over a chair in the corner was a red button up flannel. I put it on, the material soft against my skin. The fabric smelt warm, of sandalwood and smoke.
It smelt like Walker.
Walker
“Thanks, Doc. If you could let Billy know his granddaughter is here with me, safe. I know he’ll worry.”
I heard Danica walking down the hall. I turned away from the stove where I was heating some left-over chicken noodle soup. Danica entered the kitchen; I had never seen her look more stunning. Her hair darker from the shower, falling around one shoulder, a towel draped over the other. Her long shapely legs on display beneath my favourite flannel.
My heart stopped, and I was instantly hard.
“I will. Hopefully, this weather won't turn any worse.” The Doc hoped. “The last thing anyone needs is to be out in this storm.”
“Ture. Thanks again for the update, Doc. If you need either of us, you can reach us here.” I ended the call, dropping the phone on the bench.
“Walker, I hope you don’t mind. I helped myself,” Danica said, indicating to my shirt.
“Looks good on you. Are… are you warm enough?” I picked up my beer, wetting my suddenly dry throat.
“For the moment I am. Thanks. Geez it’s really picking up out there,” she remarked, the storm raging outside.
“I was just talking to the Doc,” I told her. Using any excuse to take my mind off the fact that she was standing in my kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt. “She said Billy’s doing good. He’s still asleep though.”
“I should charge…. Oh shit, I left my phone in the damn truck. What if he needs me?” she looked so panicked.
“Don’t worry, I told the Doc you were here and to tell Billy. I know he would worry, what with the generator being out an all.”
“Thanks, Walker,” she smiled, stepping closer to give me a hug.
“Anytime Darlin’.”
Not only was she wearing my shirt, but she had used my bath products. Her hair smelt like my shampoo and I could smell my bodywash on her skin. It was killing me. It took every ounce of my strength not to tear my shirt from her and take her right here on the kitchen floor.