Chigger hugged Daisy but was careful not to smudge makeup on either of them. "I hate funerals. Why aren't you waiting with the family?"
"Long story," Daisy said.
Chigger was about to insist on hearing a portion of it when Jarod appeared from the end of the church. He zeroed in on Daisy, went straight to her, and grabbed her hand. "Daisy, we were waiting on you. Jim Bob, could Cathy sit with you and Chigger?"
Daisy raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because you are sitting with the family."
Jim Bob clapped a hand on his shoulder. "We'll take care of Cathy. She can sit with us. Momma and Dad are already in there holding a pew for us."
Cathy gave Daisy a little push. "Go on. Give 'em hell," she whispered.
Jarod led her around the church to the back door and down a short hallway to a small Sunday school room filled with family. Daisy could hear the noise of conversations as they neared the room, but when Jarod opened the door it was so quiet a pigeon feather floating down from the ceiling would have sounded like the wind from a tornado.
"This is Daisy O'Dell. Daisy, this is my family. You've met my brothers, Mitch and Stephen. This is my dad, Liam McElroy. My mother, Frankie. Mitch's wife, Maria. Stephen's wife, Jewel. The rest are grandchildren and a couple of great-grandkids. I'd tell you all their names but you'd forget them by the time the day was out. You'll get to know them later. We kind of took that business about going forth and multiplying seriously as you can see."
Jarod was nervous. His voice was an octave higher and he talked faster than normal. Daisy squeezed his hand and looked out over the dark-haired clan staring at her like she'd just left a flat saucer spaceship and had a long spiked tongue. She had the sudden urge to stick it out and show them it was a plain old normal tongue that didn't shoot poison.
"Hello, Jarod's family. I'm very glad to meet you all," she said. Maybe if they understood that she spoke English instead of a remote Martian dialect they'd start talking again and the awkward silence would be put to rest.
Liam, an older version of Jarod, held out a hand. His hair had been black at one time but it was almost silver. His shake was firm and his hands calloused from hard work.
"Pleased to meet you, Daisy," he said.
Frankie stepped forward. She was tall and slim, gray just beginning to salt her jet-black hair. She had dark brown eyes and high cheekbones.
"Jarod has told us how Emmett got it into his head you were married and that you played along with it. We're grateful to you. It probably made his last days a lot happier."
"Thank you," Daisy said.
"You a rancher too?" Jewel asked.
"No, ma'am, I own and operate a beer joint up near Mingus. It's called the Honky Tonk," Daisy said.
The room went even quieter. It was as if the pigeon feather hit the wood floor with enough noise that Homeland Security thought it was a bomb and raised the terrorist alert to orange. Frankie's body language changed and her smile faded. Her back stiffened and she quickly scanned Daisy from toes to hairdo.
"Honky Tonk?" a dark-haired man said from the far side of the room. "I saw a sign for that when we were driving here. It's over there by that Smokestack place where we ate, isn't it?"
"Just on up the road a little bit," Daisy said.
"You really own the place?" Frankie asked coolly.
Daisy nodded and tried to tug her hand free from Jarod's but he held on tightly. "I own the place and tend bar every night from eight to two in the morning with the help of Tinker, my bouncer. Last week I hired my cousin to help out so I could pretend to be Jarod's wife."
The dark-haired fellow crossed the room. "I'm Garrett McElroy. You got pool tables?"
Daisy nodded.
"I'll be moving down here to manage the Double M when everything is settled. Maybe I'll stop by your Honky Tonk."
"I'll throw in the first Mason jar of beer for free. After you show Tinker your ID," she said.
"I'm twenty-three," he said.
"Good, then Tinker won't have a problem."
Jarod squeezed her hand.
She didn't know if he appreciated her offer to give his nephew a free beer or if he wanted her to be quiet. He had a choice. He could say thank you for the free beer or whistle "Dixie" out his fanny if he wanted her to be quiet because it wasn't happening.
"Daisy is also a vet tech—" he started. Before he could say anything more, the preacher stuck his head inside and said, "When the music starts I'll ask the congregation to stand and you'll come in from the side door to sit in the reserved pews. If you'll line up, it would make things easier."
"I'm going to strangle you," Daisy whispered.
"Naked?" he whispered back.
Her neck got hot and her cheeks started to flush but she got control of it. By damn, she was tired of Jarod McElroy making her blush. She'd vowed she'd get even with him and he would not like it.
Liam took Frankie's hand and they led the way when the pianist began to play a slow version of "Amazing Grace." Matt and Maria followed with Stephen and Jewel coming in next. Jarod and Daisy went into the sanctuary after them and the grandchildren and greatgrandchildren filed in after that.
The preacher said a short prayer before he read the eulogy. "Emmett Mitchell McElroy was born on June 6,
1921. He married Mavis, the love of his life, on July 3,
1943. They were ranchers and made their home between Morgan Mill and Huckabay their whole married life. They had no children but leave behind…"
Daisy's mind wandered to ways she could make Jarod pay while the preacher listed the survivors and went on to tell stories about Emmett before he got down to the preaching part of the sermon. The things came to mind should have never been thought about in a church house. She checked the windows periodically to make sure lightning wasn't striking in spite of the sunny day. Everyone else had begun to sob quietly into tissues when the preacher talked about Emmett being in heaven with Mavis. Daisy looked around without turning her head. Jarod was as stiff as—what came to her mind should have caused instant death—and she stifled a giggle by pretending it was a sob. He squeezed her hand to comfort her and she almost whispered that it would take more than that, but she kept her mouth shut and wiped her eyes with the tissue he handed her.
After the service, Jarod put on his sunglasses and led her out to his truck, which was already in line for the procession to the cemetery.
"Why are you doing this?" Daisy asked.
"You are my wife," he said.
"I am not your wife. I was for a week and a day in a pretend world."
"You were in the biblical sense twice in a notpretend world," he countered. "Why'd you tell them about the Honky Tonk right out of the chute? And why didn't you tell them you were a vet tech?" he asked.
"I was being honest and I'm not ashamed of what I do. Remember? Are you ashamed of what I do or who I am?"
"Hell no. I don't care if you are a bartender and it damn sure won't work."
"What won't work?"
"Runnin' me off. I will see you again," he declared. He might not have six weeks but he did have a few days.
"Again? We've never been on a date."
"We went fishin' and to the cattle sale. Those are dates in my world. What makes a date in your world?"
"Dinner. Movies. Walk me to the door. Kiss me."
"Miss Daisy O'Dell, would you go to dinner and a movie with me on Friday night?" he asked.
"Can't. Got to work. Only night I've got free for dating is Sunday."
"Then Miz Daisy, can I pick you up on Sunday morning for a cowboy date?"
"What in the hell is a cowboy date?"
"You'll never know if you don't say yes," he said.
She thought about it as they drove slowly behind the hearse toward Liberty Cemetery. "How does one dress for a cowboy date?"
"That fancy little dress you wore to the fish fry at Jim Bob's place to start with and your fanciest pair of boots. Bring a bag with shorts and a T-shirt for the afternoon
and maybe some jeans and something to go to dinner in that evening if we decide to go out and your makeup in case you decide to spend the night," he said.
"In your dreams. It's our first date. You'll do well to get to first base on the first date," she said.
Jarod's heart skipped a beat.
Daisy held her hands tightly in her lap. She felt like a sexual arsonist. Playing with fire; couldn't stop; about to be burned.
They reached the cemetery and again he held her hand from the truck to the gravesite. Frankie's stony face said she didn't like what she was seeing. If just that little affectionate gesture caused such a sour expression, Daisy would have hated to see what kind of puckered up face she would make if she found out what went on in Jarod's bedroom a few nights before. Give 'em, hell, nothing. She didn't have to do anything but be Daisy O'Dell. They made their own hell.
The sun was almost straight up and scorching hot. Sweat trickled down inside Daisy's bra as she listened to the preacher read Psalm 23. She wished she'd been wise enough to wear a big floppy hat like Chigger to keep the sun from beating down on her head.
The preacher held up his hand to get everyone's attention and then said, "And now we'll close with a country song that Emmett requested after which there will be a few words and the service will be over. He was very explicit about the order of his funeral so here it is and then the service will be over."
Using her free hand, Daisy swiped at the sweat beads under her nose. The black dress drew the external heat as bad as Jarod did the internal.
Brad Paisley's voice came from a portable CD player behind the casket as he sang, "When I Get Where I'm Going."
Daisy laid her head on Jarod's shoulder and wet the front of his white shirt with her tears. She didn't care if Frankie McElroy popped a cranial fuse. He pulled her close and held his head high as tears dripped off his strong jawbone. At the end of the song, Emmett's voice came through the speakers.
Daisy jumped and looked at the flower covered casket. Surely to God that cantankerous old goat hadn't risen up out of that coffin and come back to life. If he had after she'd shed so many tears for him, he was in for one royal cussin'.
"It's not him. It's from the recorder," Jarod whispered.
Emmett's gravelly old voice continued, "Now it's all over and I'm where I want to be. Mavis and I are together again so dry up any tears you've shed and get on with life. Don't waste a minute of your precious time mournin' for this old cowboy. Love. Laugh. Fight and make up. Go on back to the ranch and have some dinner and remember me every so often with a smile. Good-bye, all my family and friends. Be happy that I've finished my race and I'm where I want to be."
Daisy cried harder.
Jarod handed her a snowy white handkerchief from his hip pocket. "By damn, he got the last word in, didn't he?"
Daisy looked up at him. "The mark of a true fighter. You think he'd go without having the very last word? It wouldn't be Emmett if he did."
Several people stopped to shake Jarod's hand and say a few words about Emmett. Daisy tried to slip away with Cathy and Chigger, but Jarod kept her squeezed up to his side. They were the last truck to leave the cemetery, and by the time they reached the ranch, dinner was already spread out on tables under the shade trees in the backyard. Two eight-foot folding tables were laden with casseroles of every kind and description along with fried chicken and ham, chocolate cakes, pecan pies, peach cobblers, and gallons of sweet tea.
Folding chairs surrounded ten other tables covered with every color plastic tablecloth imaginable. Salt and pepper shakers, paper napkins in holders, and plastic cutlery were scattered down the middle of each table. Chigger, Cathy, and the Walker triplets were already eating by the time Jarod and Daisy made it through the buffet line.
"Hey, y'all, we saved places for you two," Chigger raised her voice.
Daisy took off in that direction and left Jarod to either follow or find another table. She was seated when he pulled out a chair beside her.
"I heard that y'all ain't legally married after all," Chigger said.
Daisy looked across the table at Cathy.
She giggled and shrugged. "I ratted you out."
"Then I've still got a chance?" Billy Bob asked.
"Honey, you never had a chance so there ain't no still to it," Daisy said.
"Daisy O'Dell, you are a coldhearted woman. Watch her, Jarod. She'll leave you with nothing but the shattered pieces of a broken heart," Billy Bob said.
"Oh, eat your chicken and hush," Daisy said.
Chigger changed the subject abruptly. "What I want to know is what kind of name is Liam?"
"It's Irish," Jarod said.
"Well, I like it. I might want to name this baby that if it's a boy. Of course, it's not, but I need to have a name ready just in case, I guess."
Liam sat down beside his son. "I'm full-blooded Irish and I'd be honored if you gave your baby my name. My grandfather came over here from the old country and spoke with a heavy accent until he died. I'm supposed to have a temper to go with the name but…"
Frankie put her plate on the table, sat down beside him, and said, "…but he's mild tempered compared to me. I'm half Cherokee, the other half mixed mongrel. Momma was the Indian. Daddy was a plain old white man who didn't have a clue to his background. He must have had a temper gene somewhere because Momma was the most laid back, calmest woman you'd ever met. But me, I got a white hot temper that flares up like a forest fire especially if someone messes with my family. How about you, Daisy? You got a temper? With a name like O'Dell I'd guess you've got some Irish?"
Daisy took a long drink of her tea before she answered. "O'Dell is from my father who I never met. He was killed before I was born. My momma was Cherokee Indian too, a quarter. Her mother was half and brought up in Cherokee, North Carolina, on the reservation. And yes, ma'am, I have a temper. Don't surface real often but when it does it takes a lot of water to put it out. I pick my battles but I don't back down from anything."
Frankie nodded seriously. The lines were drawn. She'd laid out her cards and Daisy had put hers on the table. It didn't matter who had the full house or aces; Momma Frankie intended to win the jackpot because her son deserved better than a barmaid.
"You got that much water, Jarod?" Cathy asked.
"Jarod's got a pretty healthy dose of temper himself. Mitch is more laid back like me. Stephen got some of his momma's disposition, but Jarod got a big chunk of it," Liam said.
"Did I hear my name?" Stephen pulled out a chair beside his mother.
"We were talkin' about Irish tempers," Daisy said.
"Jarod got that. I got the good looks. Mitch got left out," Stephen said.
"Sounds like me," Billy Bob said. "I got the good looks. Joe Bob got the smarts and poor old Jim Bob got—"
"Me!" Chigger said and leaned over to kiss Jim Bob on the cheek. "You two are going to be left out here in seven months when I have a pretty little girl for his momma."
Jim Bob beamed and the conversation went to naming the baby. Daisy wouldn't have cared if they'd discussed dead bodies over the dinner table as long as they left her alone. That was another reason a serious relationship would never work between her and Jarod. Not even a romp in the bedroom could calm two equally scorching tempers. Like she'd said, it would take a lot of water to put out her temper. She couldn't imagine what it would take to extinguish both when she and Jarod both flared up at the same time. Texas didn't have that much water.
Jarod squeezed her thigh under the table and she jumped. Chigger winked from across the table and Cathy giggled.
"You want to walk home?" she asked Cathy.
"Ah, I was hopin' you'd let me drive the car home and Jarod could haul you home," Cathy said.
Daisy shook her head. "Not in this lifetime, cousin."
"Why can't she drive your car?" Joe Bob asked.
"Ask her," Daisy said.
"She carries a grudge forever, too. We were both sixteen and she had a waitress job so she bought this old
junker of a car to get her back and forth. I had a crush on the quarterback of the football team so she let me take the car to the football game. I wrecked it and she won't let me drive her cars," Cathy said.
"Fender bender?" Joe Bob asked.
"Totaled it," Daisy said.
"Y'all kinfolks?" Frankie asked.
"On the O'Dell side. My daddy and hers were brothers. We're both only children and we're all that's left of that side of the family," Cathy said.
"And what do you do for a living? Are you a rancher?" Jewel asked.
"No, ma'am. I'm a bartender. Work at the Tonk for Daisy. It's a good beer joint. Got a big old burly bouncer named Tinker and he keeps things on the up-and-up. The folks around Mingus know Daisy don't put up with no shit. Pardon my language if it offends anyone's delicate ears. Me and Daisy, we just call 'em the way we see 'em. I've worked in worse places, let me tell you. So has Daisy," she said.
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