Long, Hot Texas Summer

by Brown, Carolyn

  The preacher shook her hand. “Oh, Nona, I know your mother well. She and your dad and I all went to school together and graduated the same year. You’ve got to come out to my place in Silverton, Loretta. I married Susanna Wilson and we’ve got four kids. Oldest is ten and the youngest was born last week. I got a later start than you and Jackson but they’re so much fun, I wonder why I didn’t straighten up my act and start sooner.”

  “Well, congratulations! And tell Susanna that I’ll try to give her a call before I leave.” Loretta smiled and moved on.

  Paula slung an arm around Loretta’s shoulder and whispered, “Go home and play nice with Jackson. There’s still time for you two, you know. You’re not old by any means. Just look at Bobby Lee.”

  Loretta smiled and said softly. “That is not in the future by any means. I’m here to convince Nona that she is not a rancher, not take up residence.”

  Paula patted her on the shoulder. “But she is a rancher, has been since the day she was born, and there’s still enough sparks between you and Jackson to rival a lightning storm. So don’t be surprised if things don’t come out the way you think they should.”

  “That storm you see hasn’t got anything to do with attraction. It’s got everything to do with the fight we’re having about our daughter,” Loretta said.

  “We’ll see.” Paula moved on ahead to stand beside Flint.

  “I heard that. You were always high tempered but you didn’t used to be tacky,” Jackson said.

  “No fighting in church,” Nona said.

  “I can get real tacky, Jackson Bailey. If that don’t work, then there are six bullets in the gun and a box of ammo in my dresser drawer,” Loretta said.

  “And I’ve got a gun safe brimming full, so you don’t scare me. Besides, I could always outrun you, woman,” Jackson said.

  “I’ll have your hide if either of you waste ammo,” Nona said.

  “Define waste,” Loretta said.

  Loretta hadn’t had so much fun in years. She’d forgotten how much she loved to banter with Jackson, how much she’d missed taking it to the argument level and how fun it had been to take it to the bedroom for makeup sex.

  Whoa, hoss! There might be bantering, but not sex.

  Loretta was the first one back to the ranch that hot June afternoon. She went straight to the kitchen, kicked off her sandals and pulled a snow-white bibbed apron over her head. Rosie’s fussing preceded her as she swung open the door and made her way across the kitchen floor.

  She shook her forefinger up at Loretta. “I swear a woman can’t linger behind long enough to tell the preacher that he speechified right good today without another woman don’t try to steal her kitchen plumb away from her. You get that apron off and get on in there with your family, Loretta Bailey.”

  Loretta reached down and grabbed the finger. “I’m going to help. They don’t want me in that den right now. It’s not even safe for me to be in there. Did you know that Nona has a hickey on her neck? I do not want to be the room with the cowboy who put it there until I cool down. I played nice in church, but I need to cool down, so let me help,” she whispered.

  Rosie’s brown eyes widened. “Are you sure? I can poison his tea. I’ve got the means and I’m so old I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life in prison.”

  “I am very sure. Jackson lets her run wild when she’s here. No rules or anything. No wonder she wants to live here permanently. But you can’t poison Travis. Lonesome Canyon would shrivel up and blow away without you here to run the place.” Loretta let go of Rosie’s finger and tied the apron strings behind her back.

  Rosie grabbed a second apron from a hook beside the door and whipped it over her head. “That girl has a mind of her own like her grandma Bailey had, and she won’t be manipulated or bullshitted into doin’ what either you or Jackson want. I’d tell her to follow her heart and to hell with both of you. But I’m of the old school and I don’t like sucker marks on anyone’s neck. I bet that’s why she’s wearing a scarf this morning in this damned hot weather, isn’t it?”

  Loretta nodded. “I’m surprised that Jackson hasn’t shot him already.”

  “Me, too, or fired his sorry ass even if he does help out at the church. If she’s got a hickey then by golly, there’ll be a weddin’ by the end of summer. Nona ain’t a fast woman and Travis is a stand-up kind of cowboy. She’s enough like her grandma to make it work, and I ain’t never in my life seen no one, not even her grandma, take to ranchin’ the way she does. Honey, she’s better on the ranch than you were and you did the work to get out of the house and away from Jackson’s mama. Never did see nobody dislike anyone like she did you. Roast is ready. You can slice it and I’ll put the biscuits in the oven.” The whole time Rosie fussed she was pulling a gorgeous salad from the refrigerator and browning strips of bacon in a saucepan before dumping in a quart of home-canned green beans.

  “I can’t believe you’ve mellowed this much,” Loretta said. “You would have had a fit if I’d come in here with a hickey on my neck after church on Sunday.”

  Rose cackled with laughter. “Honey, you wouldn’t have had the guts to walk into this house with a hickey on your neck, not in front of Jackson’s mama. You tried to be a lady, I’ll give you that much. But shit, woman, you didn’t have a chance from day one. Eva Bailey wouldn’t have liked an angel straight from heaven marryin’ her precious only child, much less a girl who went and got herself pregnant.”

  “Ain’t it the truth,” Loretta sighed.

  “Now quit your frettin’. At least Nona hasn’t moved in with him. Just be careful you don’t push her into that with all your highfalutin ways. Come down off that high horse you done crawled up on from livin’ in the city and don’t try to make her do something like go back to school this fall or you’ll lose this war for damn sure.” Rosie stirred the green beans.

  “You haven’t changed one bit,” Loretta said.

  “I’m too damned old to change.”

  Loretta smiled. “This roast is exactly like I remember. Nobody can make a beef roast as tender as you can.”

  Rosie shook a wooden spoon at her. “Don’t try to butter me up. It won’t work for you or Jackson. I like Travis Calhoun and I hope she’s married before she moves in with him.”

  Loretta shivered. “She’s not old enough to get married and face those responsibilities. She needs to experience life.”

  “Don’t be spoutin’ off that shit to me, girl. When you were her age, she was already two years old and talkin’. I remember how much fun it was to have a baby in the house. I still haven’t forgiven you for takin’ her away from us, Loretta. Just because I’m lettin’ you cook in my kitchen, don’t go thinkin’ I’ve forgotten.”

  “It’s complicated,” Loretta said.

  “I hate that damn word. You had your reasons and I’m sure Jackson had his that next year when he signed those papers. I swear to God all those times he went to Oklahoma, I thought he’d bring you back with him one of them,” Rosie said.

  “He came to Oklahoma?”

  “At least once a month for that whole year. He didn’t see you? He never did tell me why he finally let you have the divorce. Guess he had his reasons same as you had yours for leaving. And honey, if I remember right, it seems like your mama didn’t want you movin’ off down in this canyon, either, and Miz Eva damn sure didn’t want you movin’ to the ranch, but what was she to do? You was carryin’ her grandbaby,” Rosie said.

  “What has that got to do with Nona?” Loretta asked.

  “A hell of a lot. What your mama wanted and what Eva wanted was one thing. What you and Jackson wanted was another. Think about the way you felt about Jackson. That’s the same way Nona is with Travis. Has been since the day they met,” Rosie answered.

  Nona poked her head in the door. “I’ve changed my clothes. What can I do to help?”

  Rosie and Lore
tta turned at the same time. Nona wore jean shorts, a tank top, and cowboy boots.

  “You know you’re supposed to stay dressed until after dinner,” Loretta said.

  “Old rules. New ones say that I can get out of those fancy duds and put on what’s comfortable. Travis and I are riding the four-wheelers over to look at a ranch across the road from Ezra Malloy’s place this afternoon. Old Mr. Watson is ready to sell out and go live in Brownsville to be near his son. He ain’t the same since his wife died last year.”

  “Travis plannin’ on buyin’ a ranch of his own?” Rosie asked.

  “Dora died?” Loretta asked.

  Nona shook her head and then nodded. “No, his cousin Waylon is lookin’ to buy a place and yes, Miz Dora died.”

  “You can help put all this on the table and then call those two men to dinner. Biscuits will be browned by the time they wash up and get settled down,” Rosie said.

  “She gets to help and you give me a hard time?” Loretta asked.

  Rosie shrugged. “She lives here. You’re passin’ through.”

  Chapter Four

  TAYLOR SWIFT’S SONG “RED” PLAYED OVER AND OVER again in Loretta’s mind that afternoon as she left the house and walked toward the creek. She agreed with the music. Loving Jackson had been more like driving an old pickup truck toward the creek on a Sunday afternoon with the red hues of the canyon all around than it had been like driving a Maserati, but the feeling was the same. Taylor was right. Red was the color of excitement, and there’d never been a dull moment with Jackson. Everything had been red: the canyon, the dirt roads, his hands on her body, their new love, the excitement of a new baby, the passion of their arguments and the makeup sex. It was all red.

  The creek water appeared to be red as it flowed over the ocher-colored sands at the bottom of the canyon, but if no one stirred up the sand it was fairly clear. They’d skinny-dipped in it when they were teenagers, not caring what color the sand or the water were in those days. She sat down at the edge of the water, pulled her shoes and socks off, and eased her feet out into the coolness of the creek.

  A school of minnows nibbled at the red polish on her toenails.

  Taylor Swift had barely touched on the emotions of the rest of the song. Losing Jackson wasn’t just blue; it was the darkest blue of a midnight with no stars in the sky. Nothing but pain and misery. Missing him wasn’t gray; it was pure black, a void with no beginning and no end. But she was sure right about loving him: it was bright, exciting red.

  She shook her head and thought of another song, one that would take her mind off Jackson, but everything that came to mind had some crazy line in it that looped her right back around to him. She bent forward to see the tiny fish better as she hummed “Red Dirt Road” and wondered if Brooks and Dunn had ever been to the canyon.

  She’d had a mani-pedi the day before she found out that Nona had not enrolled in college for the fall. If the polish was going to last until she went home, she shouldn’t be letting the fish chip away at it. But the water felt so good on her hot feet. Sitting there on the sandy bank with the shallow creek flowing gently around her ankles brought back memories that she could not delete by touching a button.

  “Too bad, and I really do have to stop talking to myself. I wonder what he did when he came to Mustang. Did he spy on me or watch Nona play in the yard? Why didn’t he at least call me?” she whispered.

  She and Jackson had worked like plow horses, played like children, and had sex every time they could find a minute to be alone. Weatherwise, it had been the summer from hell, the heat even worse since she was pregnant with Nona. It was so hot that Jackson’s dad said the lizards had started carrying canteens. But looking back, they’d been so in love they didn’t even notice it most of the time.

  She looked at the fish coming back for more nibbles. “Don’t eat all the polish off. It doesn’t taste like cherry snow cones.”

  She felt his presence long before she heard the dry grass and weeds crunching under his boots. Crazy, but everything seemed to take on a redder hue, even her toenail polish.

  “Does to me.” Jackson sat down beside her, pulled off his boots and socks, and rolled up the legs of his jeans. He’d changed from his Sunday clothing into boots that looked exactly like the ones he’d worn when Nona was little. His jeans were faded but snug. His T-shirt stretched over a muscular chest and biceps.

  “Didn’t think I’d find you here, not without a vehicle,” he said. “And I disagree about your toenails. If they taste like your lips, then there’s a good possibility they do taste like cherry snow cones, or maybe rainbow snow cones.” He sank his toes into the water and lay back on the sand. “Does feel good, don’t it? How did you get here?”

  “Sweet-talking won’t keep me from my mission, and to answer your question, I jogged. You were snoring in front of the television when I left.”

  His arm brushed against her bare leg when he stretched it up over his head. “I was stating facts as I remember them, not sweet talkin’ you. My Sunday routine never varies—I eat Sunday dinner, I snore awhile, and then I walk to the creek and back every week. It’s my meditation time. Now, tell me, Loretta, what brought you to this place?”

  She wasn’t surprised at the effect his touch had on her when a tiny shiver traveled from her head to toes. “I’ll have to jog every day if I’m going to eat Rosie’s cookin’, and this is where I ended up.”

  “Then you better keep up the joggin’. It’d hurt her feelin’s if you didn’t set up to the table and eat,” Jackson chuckled.

  She’d gotten past that first initial shock, past the first fight, past her first appearance in public that morning. But still he made her heart do cartwheels and her pulse race; it could all be part of his plan to win her over to his side about letting Nona drop out of school.

  “I can’t believe Bobby Lee is a preacher. I remember when he brought me that note in fifth grade. Nona brought one home when she was in elementary school. I was amazed that kids still wrote those kind of notes in today’s technical world.” Loretta remembered her own note well. It had had a crudely drawn box beside the word yes. And another one right below it beside the word no. “Do you like me? Will you be my girlfriend? Check yes or no,” was written above the boxes.

  “I’m surprised you remembered that,” Jackson said.

  “I knew what the note was and I thought it was from Bobby Lee. Heather made me open it and take a second look. I’d already checked the no box and I had to erase it and check the other one before I handed it back to you.” She pulled her feet out of the water, drew her long legs up, and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. “So what is Bobby Lee’s story?”

  “Drugs, alcohol, women, and then he figured out he was running from Jesus and Jesus wouldn’t give up the chase. What he couldn’t beat, he joined. Those are his words, not mine. Started preaching, settled down, does some ranchin’ and is happy with his life. What other surprises have you found in the canyon?”

  “I’ve only been here one day, but I was surprised to see Rosie still working. I figured she would have retired years ago. She’s got to be pretty close to seventy.”

  “Bite your tongue. She’s got ears like radar.” Jackson lowered his voice to a seductive whisper. “And Rosie is probably closer to eighty, but we do not discuss her age or she gets bitchier than my mama ever was.”

  Loretta shrugged. “Lookin’ back, I understand Eva a lot better. If my only son had come home at eighteen and said he had married his pregnant girlfriend, I would have been a worse bitch than she was. Add that to the personality change because of the brain tumor and it’s a wonder she didn’t get into your gun safe and do more than just cuss at me. Every time I looked across the table at Travis during lunch, I felt closer to her.”

  Jackson sat up and propped his elbows on his knees. “Dinner, darlin’. In the canyon the noon meal is dinner. The evening meal is
supper. If you’re going to stay with us all summer, you need to get it right. You used to know those things, but I guess all your fancy lawyer boyfriends in the big city taught you different.”

  “Don’t call me darlin’,” she said. How did he know she’d dated a couple of lawyers, anyway?

  “Don’t read more into it than it is. Crazy, ain’t it, how we survived that first year and then the second with all the new baby stuff and two more before you got a burr up your ass and split? Are you ready to talk about it?”

  She picked up her shoes and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Talkin’ wouldn’t have helped then and now it’s too late.”

  She shoved her wet feet into her running shoes and stood. She tugged at the legs of her jean shorts and tucked a couple of stray strands of red hair back into the ponytail swinging on the back of her head.

  “You leaving?” Jackson asked. “I didn’t even get to taste your cherry toenails.”

  “That ain’t likely to happen anytime now or in the future. Enjoy your meditation time,” she threw over her shoulder as she took off in an easy jog toward the ranch house.

  Twenty minutes later she collapsed on the porch in a sweaty heap, sitting on the steps and panting, glad that no one was home to see her in that condition. It wasn’t fair that she was still attracted to Jackson after what had happened. But then, there hadn’t been a fine-print paragraph in their marriage license guaranteeing that life would be fair or that she would never catch her husband kissing another woman in the barn.

  When she could catch her breath, she headed into the empty house, up the stairs and toward that big, beautiful tub where she intended to let her mind go completely blank and not think of anything.

  Chapter Five

  LORETTA RAN WITH THE GRACE OF A WILD ANIMAL—all natural, nothing forced, and not a wasted movement. Jackson could have sat there in the dirt and watched her all afternoon, but in a few minutes she was completely out of sight. He had tried rationalizing what went wrong in their relationship; tried to shift the blame for that Sunday into her lap, but it still all came back around to him. If he hadn’t been in the barn with Dina doing things a married man had no right to do, then Loretta wouldn’t have left. Period.