"It was a piece of junk anyway," Cathy said.
Daisy turned and looked at Jarod. "You comin' in?"
"No, ma'am. I'm waiting right here. Figure you two got some talkin' to do that'll be easier if I'm waitin' under the shade tree." He shut off the engine and rolled down the windows. The night breeze was still scalding hot but not as much as his thoughts. He'd started measuring women by Daisy and how she made him feel. Were all women going to come up on the short end of the stick when he looked at them?
Yes, they are, he thought with a groan. What happened to "I'm not going to fall for a bartender?" So what if she's a vet tech too. She's in Texas and has stated more than once that she loves her bar and won't leave it. I'm going home to Oklahoma when this business with Emmett is over. What in the hell am I going to do?
Daisy looped her arm through Cathy's. "It might have been a piece of junk but it was mine and it was all I had to get back and forth to work. So no, you cannot drive my car."
Cathy followed her to the back door of the Honky Tonk where several suitcases were stacked up. "Okay, I won't ask again if you'll give me a job."
Daisy looked around the parking lot and back at Cathy. "How in the hell did you get here? You damn sure didn't walk with all that baggage."
"It's a long story."
Daisy hadn't believed in coincidence or fate, not one bit, until the day her car played out and she met Ruby. Now here was Cathy parked on her doorstep needing a job the same day she'd made up her mind to go along with the lie about being married to Jarod. It had to be an omen that she was doing the right thing.
"Tell me the short version."
"Brad and I were saving money for a big wedding. We bought a car together and used both of our old ones for trade-ins. When he left he took the car so I rode a bus from Mena to Mineral Wells and caught a taxi from there to here."
"Good lord. The taxi fare would have bought a good secondhand car."
"I can afford it. I just didn't want to buy a vehicle until I found out whether I was staying here or not. Couch is new since I was here. Does this one make out into a bed?" Cathy asked.
"Yes, it does and yes, you can claim it. I haven't got time to explain the whole thing but I'm glad you are here. I need someone to close up for me at night. You've got experience in that. We'll both work until ten and then you can keep it going until two all by yourself. I'll be home tomorrow evening and tell you the whole story. You okay with that?"
"I'd be fine if you handed me a toothbrush and told me to scrub the toilet with it. I need a change of scenery that bad."
Daisy pointed. "Make yourself at home. There's food in the 'fridge and beer in the Honky Tonk. I'll be home after supper tomorrow. Got to grab a few things."
"Get on with it. Like I said, I'm sleepy. The ride down here was hell on wheels. Didn't know how much I loved to fly until I had to take a damned bus. Why couldn't you live in Dallas?"
"Want me to stay so you can talk?" Daisy asked.
"Nope. I want to sleep all day and all night and then we'll talk. Besides, if that hot sexy hunk out there in the car was waiting for me, I wouldn't have taken as much time as you already have."
Chapter 8
Daisy threw her suitcase in the backseat and got into the car. Jarod had turned off the engine and rolled down the windows on both sides. Hot wind blew across the front seat.
"Why didn't you just leave it running?" she asked.
"Didn't know how long you were going to take. You've been hot before and it didn't kill you."
"Don't be a smart aleck, and if I remember right you were as hot as I was," she said.
"I wasn't talking about that. Is there air conditioning in the corrals when you work cattle?"
Daisy looked out the side window until her face stopped burning.
"I do want to thank you one more time for doing this," Jarod said.
"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for Emmett," she said.
"Why? Would you do it for Billy Bob's dad?" Jarod said.
"He isn't dyin' and he doesn't have Alzheimer's," she said.
"If he was and Billy Bob asked you?"
"But he ain't and Billy Bob didn't. Why does it matter anyway? It's just a pretend job until the old goat is dead. Are you going to start the engine and turn on the air conditioning or are we going to sit here and bake like a couple of hams in the oven?"
Jarod turned the key and wound up his window. "Why do you call him an old goat?"
Daisy wound up the window on her side of the car. "When he and Mavis used to come into the Honky Tonk all the time, she called him an old goat. 'Give me a beer for the old goat before he gets thirsty and mean.' Or she'd say, 'The old goat is grumpy tonight. I must love him to live with him.' I barely knew his real name the first two years I bartended. He was the old goat and she was the sweetheart. It's not disrespectful. It's an endearment. Don't go south, go north. We'll drive the back way into Gordon. There's a convenience store and we'll have an ice cream sandwich or an Eskimo pie. We were going for ice cream, remember?"
Jarod made a right-hand turn out of the parking lot. "So they were like an uncle and aunt to you?"
"Maybe."
"Were you at Aunt Mavis' funeral?" He tried to picture her even in the shadows and couldn't.
"Of course I was. Ruby came with me. I don't remember seeing you."
"I was there," he said defensively.
"Hey, I'm not doubting that you were, but the church was packed. We sat in folding chairs all the way against the back wall."
Then she remembered. He'd been the tall man who'd walked beside Emmett when the family entered the church. She hadn't seen anything but his back at the funeral, which had been a good thing. A funeral sure wasn't the place for the thoughts she'd had about him ever since she'd seen him the first time.
"Did you go to the dinner?"
"No, that was for family."
Jarod gripped the steering wheel. Why hadn't he met her at the funeral? Why hadn't he known from the beginning that she was so much more than a bartender? Why did everything have to be so blasted complicated?
He hadn't answered a single question when he parked in front of the convenience store out beside the highway in Gordon. "What do you want?" he asked.
"One of those big ice cream sandwiches with Neapolitan ice cream in the middle. I'll wait in the car."
He reached to turn the key and she slapped his hand. "Don't you dare. It's just now getting cool."
Sparks ricocheted around the inside of the car like a bullet in an empty metal building. Ice cream might cool her tongue but it wouldn't do a blessed thing to stop the slow burn in her heart and soul.
Jarod went inside and picked up two sandwiches from inside the freezer. The brush of her hand against his had sent desire shooting through his veins. Had she felt the same thing?
"Have to eat them fast, hot as it is," the sales clerk said as he rang up the purchase.
"You got that right," Jarod said.
"Reckon we'll ever see a rain cloud again?"
"I'd be willin' to do a stomp dance if it would bring one around," Jarod teased.
"You got any notion that it'll work, I'll round up the FFA club over in Gordon and we'll help you. Here's your change, sir. Y'all have a nice day."
"You too," Jarod said as he left.
"They didn't have Neapolitan," he said as he tossed one in her lap. No way was he tempting fate again. A slight touch had him creating erotic mental images. Anything more and he'd be claiming his rights as a "pretend" husband, only the rights would be very real.
"This is fine." She peeled back the wrapper and bit into the cold ice cream. It didn't do jack shit to cool down anything but her mouth, but it did give her something to hold in her hands to keep them from straying over to his thigh—or higher.
Emmett was on the porch again when Jarod drove up. He yelled, "Take Daisy's car around to the garage and move my old truck out. It don't matter if that old truck gets wet if a rainstorm comes up but that car is
too pretty to set out in the weather."
"I'll be damned."
"Now what's the matter with you? Did you drip ice cream on your shirt?" Daisy asked.
"He wouldn't let me park my truck in the garage."
"He loves you but he likes me. Bring in my suitcase and my vet bag, please."
"Yes, ma'am. Anything else the princess and the king desire from the measly peon hired help?"
"Only that you put your cranky mood in the garage with the car. I got you a donkey, maybe two, so be nice."
She got out and sat down on the top porch step. Jarod revved up the engine, popped the clutch, and backed up with enough force to create a dust storm.
Daisy yelled at him, "That's the last time you'll ever drive my car."
"Is he showin' out or has he got another burr in his ass? You wasn't gone long enough to go to Mineral Wells for ice cream," Emmett said.
"Did you ever show out for Mavis after you went for ice cream?"
A wide grin split his wrinkled face. "You're damn right I did. One time I spun out of her driveway, that's back before we was married, and I was drivin' an old
1945 model Ford, and scared the chickens so bad that her daddy said I couldn't come back unless I rode up in a buggy with horses pullin' it." "Did you?" Daisy asked. "Nope. But I was a sight more careful after that. How come you didn't go to Mineral Wells?"
Jarod opened the screen door and sat down so close to Daisy that their thighs touched. "We had to go to the Honky Tonk. Daisy forgot some things that she'll need to stay all night. We drove over there and got ice cream at that little store in Gordon."
"That ain't as romantic as going to the ice cream parlor, but I'm glad Daisy is moving in here at the ranch. We need to talk about our donkeys. I been sittin' here nigh on to an hour and ain't one of them critters showed its face yet. How they goin' to protect my cattle if they ain't around?"
"They're probably out in the pasture taking care of mean coyotes," Daisy said. She hoped her voice didn't sound as loud and squeaky to them as it did in her ears. "I kept a lookout and didn't see a single coyote on our way back from our drive."
She swallowed a sharp gasp when Jarod slung his arm around her shoulder. A million dollars couldn't pay for the effects his touch had on her; hell's bells, enough to buy her a ranch complete with cattle and dogs couldn't pay for it.
She told herself over and over that it was all acting. She'd seen her mother do it for years. Pretend to be happy in a situation from hell. Pretend to be unhappy when the hell producing man took off. Surely she had enough of her mother's genes to pull off a simple acting job.
Emmett's chair squeaked when he rocked. "I was watchin' a television show while y'all was gone. T. Boone Pickett was on it talkin' about these newfangled windmills that make electricity. Funny lookin' things stickin' up out of the ground, but T. Boone says they'll do the job. I visited with him one time at a cattle sale up in Kansas City. Seemed like a decent man. What do you think of him, Daisy?"
"Don't think he ever came into the Honky Tonk so I couldn't say," she answered.
"That beer joint isn't the only place on earth," Emmett snapped.
"Don't you get cranky with me. I never met the man so how can I give an opinion of him?" Daisy shot right back.
Emmett frowned. "Well, what do you think of the idea of them crazy lookin' windmills like they got growin' like a damn forest over by Abilene?"
"Hell, Emmett, I wouldn't know. I'd have to study on it."
"That's my girl. Don't be makin' no rash decisions. You study up on it and let me know in a few days what you think of the notion. I've been thinkin' if they're good enough for T. Boone that I might be gettin' me a couple of them. Bet that whirlin' blade thing would keep the coyotes out as good as the donkey which Jarod is hiding from me," he said.
Jarod stopped teasing her arm and his hand went tense. "I'm not hiding a damn donkey. Tomorrow mornin' I'll go round the critter up myself and bring it to sit with you on the porch. Hell, you can even tell it some of your stories if you want to."
Emmett slyly winked at Daisy.
If he had Alzheimer's she'd eat her dirty socks for breakfast. He was playing both of them and having a great time doing so. But then he hadn't remembered that he told her to come out on Sunday and work the cattle. However, he did remember that she was supposed to bring the cheesecake. Daisy's mind went in circles trying to decide whether or not he was playing them or was sincerely losing his ability to think.
What if he's not? What if he's just having a good evening and teasing? that niggling little voice of conscience asked.
Not knowing for sure is the thing that keeps me here.
Jarod wanted to take Daisy up to his bedroom and make passionate love to her until daybreak and forget all about a stupid jackass and windmills.
Emmett went on. "You go roust that jackass up and I'll tell him some stories all right. Another thing." He stopped long enough to inhale deeply so he could start again. "Why in the hell ain't you been to the sales yet? I told you last week to get rid of them damn white faces and use the money to buy some more Angus. Remember? If Daisy moved here and forgot that damned beer joint I said I'd buy more Angus. That was a week ago and I ain't seen a cattle truck leavin' here yet to go to the sale."
"That was today," Jarod said.
Emmett raised his voice. "Don't you tell me when it was. I ain't lost my mind."
Daisy bristled. "Don't you yell at us, Emmett McElroy. I didn't say you had lost your mind. We were waiting for the sale this week because I got news that the price of cattle was going up from last week to this one. I told you that yesterday. We'll be taking the white faced ones off on Tuesday."
"The sale in Abilene is on Wednesday, not Tuesday. You'll need to round them up on Tuesday, put them in the corral, and get up early on Wednesday to load them. Get to the sale late and you'll lose money," Emmett said.
"We'll be there when the doors open and we'll get a good price for the cattle. We aren't going to cheat you out of one red dime. Now I'm going to get my book and read while Jarod does the evening chores," Daisy said.
"You're going to play hell. You are a farm wife now. You'll help him," Emmett said.
"I don't have much to do this evening. Daisy can help me tomorrow," Jarod said. He would love to have her beside him while he took care of feeding the livestock but he'd already pressed his luck in getting her to stay the night.
"Okay, then Daisy can make breakfast in the morning. I'll have a slab of fried ham, some scrambled eggs, fried potatoes with onions in them, and maybe a pan of real biscuits. None of that canned shit like Jarod cooks."
"You aren't supposed to have any of that. You're on a salt-free, low-fat diet for your heart and—" Jarod protested.
"Let me eat what I want and die when I'm supposed to. I'm not stupid just because I'm old. I know my time is short, but I won't be treated like a panty waste. I'm a man and I'll die a man with a fork in my hand and bacon in my mouth," Emmett said.
"If you'd have told Dad earlier, I would have come down here and kept things going before now," Jarod said.
"Didn't want you to know. I'm dyin' and I don't give a damn. Quicker I go the quicker I can see Mavis. I miss her and I'm tired of livin' without her, so death ain't no big thing. I'm just glad you come down here and met Daisy when you did. Mavis told me she'd love to see you hooked up with a woman just like Daisy. Why, I bet she's sittin' up there on them clouds happy as a lark that you found Daisy. I ain't talkin' no more about this death shit so that's it."
Daisy swallowed the lump in her throat. "Okay, it's a deal. I get to read my book tonight and I'll make breakfast. Everything you just said. We got to keep your strength up if you are going to the sale on Wednesday."
"Hell, I ain't goin'. You are. With Jarod. And I expect those cattle to be in top shape so they'll bring the best price. You get them shot and treated for everything in the world and take the papers to show it."
"Yes, sir," Daisy saluted.
***
The sun was half of a big orange ball slowly lowering on the horizon by the time Jarod finished the evening chores at the ranch. Daisy rubbed Duck's ear. Her book was laid to one side and she was barefoot.
Jarod jumped the fence and sat down beside her.
"Why'd he name a dog Duck?" she asked.
"Same reason he named the other one Guinea. Says they make a racket when anyone drives up," Jarod answered.
"Not anymore."
Jarod scratched Guinea's ear. "I guess they're about worn out."
I Love This Bar Page 15