"Miz Daisy, please come quick. It's Herman. He's sick."
"I'm on my way," Daisy said. She grabbed her bag and took off out the door. If that damned goat died, Tommy would cry his eyes out. It was his show goat for the county fair that fall and he'd groomed him for months.
Tommy's mother, Lylah, met her at the car and took her straight to the goat pen. Herman had his head down and was staggering around like a Honky Tonk drunk on Saturday night.
"He got into the feed bin last night and I found him all bloated up," Lylah said.
Daisy opened her bag, shook up a bottle of PeptoBismol, and poured out fifteen cc. She held Herman's head up and stroked his throat, then shot the medicine into his mouth and stroked some more until he swallowed.
"Bet you wish you hadn't gorged right now," she said.
"Think he'll live?" Lylah asked.
"Oh, yeah. But Tommy needs to shore up the pen so he can't get into the feed bin again. Silly old goat thinks he can eat all he wants," Daisy laughed. She pulled out a syringe and loaded it with 5 cc of CD Antitoxin SQ and poked it into Herman's hip. "I'll run by tomorrow afternoon and give him another dose of this and he should be fine."
"Lord, what would we do without you?" Lylah asked. "Got time for a cup of coffee? I heard that Emmett McElroy's nephew is out on the ranch and that he's one sexy cowboy. You seen him, yet?" Lylah asked.
Daisy wanted to throw something. Perhaps a shoe at Herman, but the stupid animal would probably eat it and then she'd have to force more Pepto down his throat. "He's been in the Honky Tonk. I haven't seen you and Roger in there in a while," she said.
"Been busy with this damn goat business. I tell you, if we make it through the county fair with these things, I'm goin' to shout. Come on inside."
"I still got things to do at the Honky Tonk so I'll take a rain check. Y'all come on out some evening. And I'll run by tomorrow." Daisy made a beeline to the car. She'd heard all she wanted to hear about how sexy Jarod was. Lylah and the rest of them had only heard about him or seen him with his clothes on. She'd seen the real thing.
***
Jarod tried calling again on Thursday but no one answered. He was ready to beat down the Honky Tonk door, but Emmett was ailing. The doctor gave him a new medicine and it made him nauseous, so Jarod was stuck playing nursemaid and listening to him give advice about how to keep Daisy on the ranch. According to Emmett, Jarod didn't know how to court a woman and even after the marriage there had to be courting.
Jarod didn't tell him that he'd love to court Daisy. He'd like to take her to dinner, to a movie, to a rodeo, to anything where he could sit beside her and talk. But Daisy didn't want to speak to him. God, he dreaded Sunday. He'd called every single day to ask her out on a real date and she was avoiding him like the plague.
***
Things picked up considerably at the beer joint that night. She still checked the door every time it opened, but no Jarod. By Friday, Daisy was so glad to see Chigger that she could have hugged the woman. Then the Walker triplets appeared all together, looking exactly alike in their plaid button-up Western shirts and creased Wranglers. Jim Bob headed straight for Chigger and gave her a lingering kiss, reminding Daisy of the one she'd shared with Jarod. She fanned her scorching cheeks with the back of her hand.
Jim Bob kept his arm around Chigger's shoulders. "I missed you, darlin'."
"Ah, you just had a long week bailin' hay and now you're ready to roll around in it. Don't you be gettin' any ideas though. It's too hot and hay sticks to sweat out in the hay barn. That's for fall and winter, cuddled up under a big old fluffy blanket. Give me a big old king-sized bed anytime in the hot summertime," Chigger giggled. "Dance with me, honey. I'm so tired of fixin' hair I could cry. Go put on some Gretchen Wilson or Sugarland. Something to make the heart race instead of cryin' the blues."
Chigger's hot pink T-shirt had the outline of a bull in rhinestones stretched across her chest. Her nails and hair were freshly done. Daisy wondered how in the hell she got past her momma in that getup? She had a vision of Chigger leaving the house in a loose fitting pair of jeans and a floral baggy shirt, then stopping along the side of the road to change into her provocative clothing.
Daisy felt dowdy in comparison in her red T-shirt with the Honky Tonk logo on the front and a pair of faded jeans. She hadn't even worn her boots that night, opting instead for Nikes that had seen better days. Jarod hadn't called or come by. Hell, he might have gone back to Oklahoma after that one night stand, never to be seen again.
Jim Bob returned from the jukebox and Gretchen's voice came through the speakers announcing that she was a redneck woman. He picked up Chigger's hand and kissed the palm before leading her out to the dance floor. He moved pretty good for an old ranching fellow and his eyes never left his woman. Chigger wiggled and kept time with the music as she rubbed all over Jim Bob.
When the song ended she leaned on the bar while Jim Bob went to pick a cue stick from the wall. Joe Bob already had the balls racked and was waiting.
"Joe Bob's got to get warmed up or else he'll be broke for sure when Merle gets here. Fix me up a margarita," Chigger said.
"You drink beer," Daisy said.
"Not tonight. I've got a hankering for a margarita. Just a plain old José one. Not a fancy Patron one, and give me lots of salt on the rim. So what happened after you and Jarod left on Sunday?"
"You sly old coyote. You got me busy making a drink that you usually don't order and then ask that question. You almost had me there. What happened at the trailer?" Daisy said.
"We damn near had to call in the fire department to put out the blazes we started in the bedroom. I didn't see any smoke damage on your back door. So what happened?"
"Are we goin' fishin' on Sunday?" Daisy changed the subject.
"Hell, no. You got to go shoot cattle or whatever it is that you do when you vaccinate them. Remember, you promised to take Emmett a cheesecake and Jarod is fixin' steaks."
"Then I'll kidnap you and you have to go with me or else I'll tell your momma what you look like tonight. Those duds don't tell the world you are a shy little old maid beautician one bit. Hell, I bet you've even played a little strip poker with Jim Bob and no telling what else you let him do," Daisy said.
"You're damn right and I lose on purpose just to make him happy. If I told you what else he does to me you'd have to sink your whole body in the ice machine. Jarod kissed you, didn't he?" Chigger asked.
Daisy shot her a look.
Chigger licked the salt around the rim of the jar and then took a long drink. "Only thing that could make you so jumpy and checkin' out the door every five seconds is that you had sex with him and he hasn't called."
"Go dance with your man. There's Merle. She can take over with Joe Bob," Daisy said.
"He's a tease to do that to you and I'm going to tell him he's a low-down sumbitch next time I see him."
Daisy pointed to the dance floor. "You read too many of those magazines you keep in your beauty shop. Every one of them have an article on how to get and keep a man. Go on and dance with Jim Bob and quit analyzing me."
"I don't need to be told twice to dance with that good lookin' hunk," Chigger said and went to meet Jim Bob in the middle of the floor. She backed up to him, wrapped a hand backwards around his neck, and wiggled so much that Daisy wondered how he kept from hauling her out the door to his pickup. All that movement had to be affecting him enough to put a strain on the zipper of his jeans. She remembered the effects she'd had on Jarod and fanned herself for the hundredth time that week.
Chigger and Jim Bob danced to Sugarland singing "It Happens." The singer talked about life not going quite like you planned it and the irrefutable indisputable sh… it happens.
"Yep, shit happens." She drew up another beer, turned around to give it to a customer, and found Billy Bob sitting next to him.
"What kind of shit you talkin' about?" he asked.
"I was just singing with the song," she lied.
"So what'
s been goin' on in my little woman's life this week?" he asked.
"I'm not your little woman. Go flirt with someone who cares."
"You are just plumb breakin' my heart. I'm goin' to play a slow song and hug up to someone to ease my achin' soul. Will that make you jealous or at least feel a little bit bad for hurting me?"
She dug a handful of change from the pocket of her apron and handed it to him. "Neither one but I'll buy the first two songs. Hug tight."
"You're a coldhearted woman."
She smiled. "That's the God's gospel truth on a silver platter. Get on over there before someone puts in a fast song and you can't hug up to a sweet little rosy. Be a shame if you didn't get some relief for that achin' soul of yours."
He took the money and hurried to the jukebox. Travis Trett sang "Long-Haired Country Boy," and the Friday night crowd made their way to the dance floor for a line dance. Everyone in the joint was dancing except Joe Bob and Merle, who were in a heated pool game, Daisy who kept time with her feet behind the bar, Tinker who sat on a chair beside the door, and one lonesome old cowboy at the end of the bar who appeared to be waiting on someone.
Daisy studied the cowboy. He had blond hair curling up on his shirt collar and green eyes like her ex-boyfriend. Chris had been a bouncer but he wasn't a big burly man like Tinker. He wasn't much taller than Daisy. His size often made rowdy drinkers think they didn't have to listen to him, but his arms were made of steel. Daisy rubbed her cheek as she remembered how hard he could hit.
Billy Bob must have had a hankering for Travis that night because the next song was "Where Corn Don't Grow." Daisy remembered the CMT video of the song and related to Travis wanting to get out of the town where he grew up. She'd wanted the same thing too, but a couple of years later she was right back in Mena, Arkansas.
"And that's when the weeds really got out of hand," she muttered.
Daisy had loved the song the first time she heard it and figured that if corn didn't grow in the fields then weeds did. A person had a choice of what they'd cultivate. Corn or weeds.
Billy Bob cut through the crowd to the bar. "What're you talkin' about weeds for? I need some more money if you're not going to marry me and make me part owner of this beer joint."
She handed him another fistful of coins. "I'm not buyin' you off. This is the last of the free music. Besides, you have more money than I do."
"This is my payment for a broken heart, remember?"
"Sure it is. You're just a con man, Billy Bob. You don't love anyone. Don't play any more Travis, either. Choose something else," she said.
"I'll find something to make everyone want to drink more beer. By the way, I heard you were two-timin' me with Jarod on Sunday and even let him bring you home. I was hurt that you and Chigger didn't invite me to go fishin'. And you never let me take you home."
She pointed at the jukebox. "Go play music and dance, and I wasn't two-timin' you, Billy Bob. I'd have to be one-timin' you to do that."
"Well, that's your choice. Mine is that I am onetimin' you already."
"Then go two-time me with someone who gives a damn," she told him.
He clamped a hand over his heart and skewered up his face. "My heart is broken with your cold words."
He chose George Strait's old song, "I Cross My Heart," and Daisy wished to the devil she hadn't told him to play something other than Travis.
"Damn you, Jarod," she looked at the shut door.
***
Saturday morning the phone rang and Daisy had her bag in her hand before she even answered it. If Herman had gotten into the feed bin again she intended to see what barbecued goat tasted like that night.
"Hello," she said.
"Daisy, it's Edith, darlin'. George is beggin' for his beer again. He just sits in front of the refrigerator and looks at it with this forlorn thirsty look. He's just like old George Jones. I'm afraid if I don't give it to him, he'll lay down and die."
Daisy held the phone a foot from her ear until Edith stopped talking, then she shoved it as close as she could and yelled so loud that the folks at the Smokestack could hear her on a clear day. "Edith, he doesn't need beer. It will bloat him and make him sick."
"Ah, honey, I don't mind the dog farts. They smell like shit but they don't last long. If that's all that it'll do to him, I reckon half a bottle won't hurt him. Thanks, Daisy," Edith shouted and hung up.
The Honky Tonk phone set up a howl when she finished talking to Edith and Daisy made a beeline for it. Maybe Jarod had decided to call after all. She stumbled over a romance book she'd dropped on the floor the night before and went sprawling out on the carpet. By the time she reached the phone it had stopped ringing.
"Damn it all to hell on a silver poker," she swore. "Next week I'm having an answering machine put in even if everyone with a sick animal leaves so many messages it clogs up the thing."
***
Jarod replaced the phone receiver and made Emmett a milkshake. His uncle was feeling better physically. Mentally was a different matter. Every waking minute was centered around Daisy and how Jarod wasn't doing his duty by her.
Jarod didn't know what in the hell more he could do. The woman wouldn't answer her phone. She didn't have an answering machine. For all he knew she'd sprouted wings and flown off to a foreign country after that Sunday night.
Jarod was so angry that he wanted to storm into the Honky Tonk and carry her out like Richard Gere did in An Officer and a Gentleman. But he couldn't leave Emmett to go anywhere. Life was a total bitch. Emmett fussed at him to make Daisy come live at the ranch. He just wanted to talk to the woman. She was supposed to be at the ranch the next day and by damn then he'd have it out with her. Until then he'd just hope that he didn't have another one of those dreams that woke him up in a horrendous mood when he found she wasn't in bed with him.
***
Saturday night was even busier than Friday. Chigger and the Walker men were there and she didn't have a moment to think about songs or their hidden meanings. She drew up more beer and popped the lids off more bottles and cans than she'd done in one night in years. By the time Tinker told her good night and went home and she picked up her customary beer and put enough coins in the jukebox to play Miranda Lambert's "Gunpowder and Lead," she barely had enough energy left in her long legs to prop them up on the table.
Daisy figured Miranda's songwriter had written the song especially for her. It was the thing that brought her to the Honky Tonk. She had loaded her shotgun, the only inheritance she'd gotten from her granny when she died, and Chris got the fight he wanted. Just like Miranda said in the song, he'd slapped her face and shook her like a rag doll but by damn when it was all said and done he was running and she was staying.
The idea of staying brought her to the issue with Jarod. He wasn't a permanent fixture. As soon as Emmett had breathed his last, he'd be gone and Daisy wasn't going anywhere. So that fixed that.
Yeah, right. I had sex with him. He didn't call or show up for a whole week. That tells me it wasn't anything but a one night stand and I need to grow up and get over it.
She'd get over the attraction.
Someway.
Somehow.
She had to or it was going to drive her stark raving crazy. Every time a man walked into the Honky Tonk all week, she'd checked him out, hoping it was Jarod, and then she'd been disappointed. She couldn't endure life walking on a tightrope with no net under her. She had a choice just like she'd had with Chris. In that case she could stick around and let him abuse her physically. In the one with Jarod she could hang onto a one night stand and pine away mentally wanting more. Neither one had a future. She'd gotten over Chris and by damn she'd get over Jarod McElroy too.
Chapter 7
The sun was hot enough to raise a blister on a pair of alligator boots and Daisy was not in the mood to vaccinate cows that afternoon. She sure wasn't in the mood to face Jarod after he hadn't called her all week. She drove past the ranch and down the road to the back of the property where the co
rral was located, grumbling the whole way. With any luck at all, he would have lit a shuck back to Oklahoma without even looking back.
The little blue Maverick bounced along for twenty minutes at less than ten miles an hour. Someday she was going to break down and buy a small pickup truck, an old one like Jim Bob's fishin' wagon, to do her vet business.
When she reached the corral she slapped the steering wheel with her palms. "Damn it all to hell. Does luck run when it sees me coming? Where are the cattle? I'm a vet tech. Does Emmett expect me to bring them in from the four corners of this place as well as take care of them?"
She got out of the car and listened intently, hoping to hear the bawling of a few cows being herded toward the corral. Nothing. She walked to the fence and climbed all the way to the top rail, balanced on it like a gymnast, and squinted as she looked out over the land. A cow over there eating what green grass it could find. Two over there close enough together that they looked like they were gossiping. Was one telling the other about the stud bull over in Jim Bob's pasture? Maybe the old bovine had been talking to Chigger. There was at least a dozen down there belly deep in dirty pond water. They'd better not let Emmett catch them skinny-dipping or he'd have a fit.
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