“It’s all clear as a bell. You can’t see the forest because you are too close to the trees. You’re dealing with mixed feelings about the ranch and Jackson. Nona isn’t going to leave the ranch and you figured that out today, but you don’t want to admit it even to yourself. She has a life here that includes all the things you thought you could use to entice her away with. She has friends and she’s happy. Don’t mess with that. And Ezra is dying. Don’t worry, I won’t spread the gossip. So that’s got you to thinking about what you’ll have when your last days come around,” Heather said.
“And what do I do about it?”
“You realize that you can’t really do much about Nona’s decision and you are still trying to get over the thing with Jackson,” Heather answered.
“And if I make the wrong choices?” Loretta asked.
“Listen to your heart. You know that thing you told us about on the refrigerator magnet about hanging on and letting go?”
“What about it?” Loretta asked.
“I knew my husband wasn’t happy. I damn sure wasn’t, but I hung on long past when it was time to let go. Looks to me like you got one part of your heart saying to hang on to Jackson and another part saying to let go of Nona. That’s pretty powerful shit to have going on all at the same time.”
Loretta looked at the clock. “My god, we’ve been talking four hours.”
“And we can talk more if you need it,” Heather said. “It’s not going to go away miraculously, my friend. So if you need me, just call. I’m here for you, twenty-four-seven.”
“Thank you. That sounds like so little, but I mean it.”
“Come on up out of the canyon to Silverton if it gets to be more than you can bear and we’ll get drunk together,” Heather laughed.
Chapter Fifteen
LORETTA QUIETLY MADE HER WAY down the stairs, grabbed the keys to the old work truck from the row of hooks by the back door, and slipped outside minutes before Rosie got up that Monday morning. It had been a long week, but not even staying busy from daylight to midnight every single day had brought her up out of the horrible funk. Nona had come in every night after dark with her butt dragging, barely swallowed supper, and gone straight to bed. Jackson had done the same, but then, Loretta couldn’t fault either of them. She’d been keeping up the kitchen work as well as putting in long hours in the field. She’d thought when Rosie got home that the heavy feeling would lift, but it hadn’t changed at all. If anything, she woke up with a worse case on Monday than she’d taken to bed with her the previous night.
Glad that Rosie was home to take over her normal chores, Loretta gave serious thought to leaving, going home to Mustang, and settling back into her life. But something way far down in the pits of her soul said that she could not run away again. No matter the consequences or the outcome of the battle with Nona, she had to fight this through, and now it had as much to do with her own problems as it did with Nona’s college issue.
She drove to the creek, where she pulled the quilt from behind the seat and spread it out in the truck bed. Lying back on it with her arms laced under her head, she watched the most glorious sunrise she’d ever seen. Vibrant colors blended from one to the next in an array that no artist on earth could copy. A camera would have trouble capturing the moment, but Loretta tucked it away tightly in her memory bank to revisit when she was old and gray.
“Old and gray with only months to live, like Ezra. That’s when I’ll remember this sunrise and it will help me make the transition from this life into the next,” she whispered. She folded the quilt and drove over bumpy ground to the highway. Heather had said her door was open and to come to Silverton any time.
She needed to get out of the canyon, even if only for a few hours. Like Heather had said, she was too deep inside the forest to see the trees. But it didn’t feel right to just drop in that early, so she fished her phone from her purse and called.
“Good morning, Loretta. Have you made any progress this week?” Heather asked.
“Not much. Would it be all right if I just dropped in this morning?”
“How soon can you get here? Maria and I are having breakfast at the café here in Silverton. Her older sister is here for a couple of weeks, so we are planning a road trip to Florida for a week. Want to go with us?” Heather said.
“I can’t leave Nona for that long, but I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Order sausage gravy and biscuits for me and a piece of their pecan pie. I haven’t eaten there in ages,” Loretta said and then tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.
It had scarcely landed before it rang. She picked it up and said, “Hello, Nona.”
“Where are you? The van is here. Did you take a walk out to the barn?”
“Tell your Dad I’m taking the day off and I’m driving the old work truck. I’ll be home later,” she said.
“But, Mama . . .” Nona started.
“The ranch ran without me being there and it doesn’t need me now. I’ll see y’all later,” Loretta said.
“But I need you, Mama. You aren’t going back to Mustang, are you?”
“Not in this truck,” Loretta laughed. “And thank you, for needing me.”
Some of the horrible heaviness left her chest as she drove up out of the canyon and into Silverton. She parked alongside a dozen other trucks that didn’t look a lot different than hers. Once she was inside, Heather and Maria waved from the back table.
As soon as she sat down, Heather said, “Okay, I’ve filled Maria in on what you told me. What’s happened since?”
“Nothing happened and I’m still depressed,” Loretta said.
“Then after you eat, we’re going to my place and getting drunk,” Heather said.
“It’s not even eight o’clock,” Loretta protested.
“Who gives a shit? You need it and we’re your friends. We won’t let you drink and drive,” Maria said.
“What’s it going to accomplish?”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. But that’s Dr. Heather’s medicine. She made me do it and it worked, so I can testify to the fact that it does cure depression. But you can’t start on an empty stomach, so eat up,” Maria said.
Loretta shoved a forkful of biscuits and gravy into her mouth. “God, this is good. They must use real cream, not that packaged crap.”
“Oh, yeah, and the pecan pie isn’t one of those frozen ones, either. Have you thought about what I said?” Heather asked.
“All week long, and I’m no closer to finding answers than I was when we talked,” Loretta answered.
“Some folks think there is one person out there that completes you,” Maria said. “I think you and Jackson are soul mates that were floating together real good down the river and then you got lost from each other and now you’re having to find your way back.”
“Soul mates? I don’t think so,” Loretta singsonged.
“Sorry, Loretta,” Heather said. “I agree with Maria. We saw the way he looked at you at the Sugar Shack. He loves you and you love him, or you wouldn’t be sitting here lookin’ for answers. How have you been sleeping?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Loretta asked.
“You’ve got dark circles under your eyes,” she answered.
“Not too well,” she whispered.
“Then it’s time for a bottle of Jameson,” Maria said.
“You’ve got Irish whiskey?”
“I have a whole bottle, plus a backup bottle of Jack Daniel’s if we run out,” Heather said. “I bought it after we talked a few days ago. Figured if we didn’t use it, then me and Maria would take it to Florida with us. But we can buy some more when we get there.”
“Don’t doubt her methods,” Maria laughed. “She bought me a bottle of moonshine and mixed it up in daiquiri mix. It was fantastic and I didn’t even have a headache the next day.”
Jackso
n had just finished eating a quick sandwich and was on his way back to the field when his cell phone rang. Hoping that it was Loretta, he answered it on the first ring.
“Jackson,” a strange woman giggled.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“It’s Heather. We’ve got a problem, darlin’.” Her words were slightly slurred. “I think you better come on to Silverton and bring someone to drive your work truck home.”
His voice caught in his throat. “Is Loretta all right?”
“Wellll,” Heather said.
“Give me that phone,” a voice said in the background, but it didn’t sound like Loretta. “Jackson, this is Maria. Loretta is drunk and she can’t drive drunk and we’re too drunk to drive her home and so you have got to come and get her. She could stay here with us, but you need to talk to her. Did you know that she’s an angry drunk? When we were kids and she got tipsy, she was funny, but she’s changed.”
“Give it back to me,” Heather said. “Jackson, y’all need to get this shit settled. Do you hear me?”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Do you still live on Loretta Street?”
Heather giggled. “You can rescue Loretta on Loretta Street. That’s funny.” The phone went dead.
Jackson shook his head, but the words were still there. What in the devil was Loretta doing getting drunk at this time of day, or for that matter, any time of day?
Thank goodness Nona and Travis had already gone to the barn, so he didn’t have to explain what he didn’t understand. He got into his truck and then remembered that he needed someone to drive the old truck back home since Loretta damn sure couldn’t drive if she was even half as drunk as her two friends. He spotted Waylon going from bunkhouse to barn and honked.
Waylon turned around and waited as Jackson drove up beside him. He leaned in the passenger window. “Yes, sir?”
“Get in. I need you to drive the old work truck home from Silverton. Evidently, Loretta took it up there, but she’s in no shape to drive home,” Jackson said.
Waylon opened the door and settled into the passenger’s seat. “Has she been in an accident?”
“No, she’s drunk,” Jackson drove away from the ranch.
“But, Jackson, it’s noon.”
“I can tell time, Waylon. And believe me, she can hold her liquor. She could put me under the table any day of the week, so I’m as confused as you are,” he said.
“She don’t seem the type,” Waylon said.
“That’s Loretta. She doesn’t have a type, but I’m right glad that her friends called me, because she drives like a bat out of hell when she’s been drinkin’,” Jackson chuckled.
“Really?” Waylon asked.
“Unless she’s changed, she has no sense of speed after a couple of drinks.” Jackson pulled his phone from his shirt pocket and punched in Loretta’s number.
“Hellllo, Jackson,” Maria answered. “Where are you?”
“On my way. Y’all are at Heather’s. Where’s my truck? There or somewhere else?”
“Out in front of Heather’s. Keys are in it,” she said.
“Is Loretta able to walk?”
“Hell, no! When we do a job, we do it right. And we wouldn’t waste good Jameson,” Maria said.
“Okay, then. Why did you ladies start drinking this early in the day on a Monday?”
“You and Nona caused it. She loves her daughter and she loves you and she loves the canyon and she loves everyone, but then she was drunk when she said it and you know what they say, Jackson?”
He waited.
“Do you?” she shouted into the phone.
“About what?”
“They say that you can’t believe anything a woman says when she’s drinkin’ or what a man says when he’s having sex. So you’ll have to talk to her yourself when she gets sober. Jackson, are you still there?” Maria asked.
“I’m still here.”
“Don’t let Nona see her like this. It’d break her heart if Nona saw her like this. Promise me or I won’t let you have her,” Maria said.
“I promise.”
“Okay then. We’ll unlock the door. If you’re lyin’ to me, I’ll kick your ass,” Maria said.
“I’ll take her to a motel until she sobers up. I promise.”
“Then good-bye.”
“What do I tell Flint and Nona?” Waylon asked.
“Tell them that Loretta is spending the day with her girlfriends and had some truck trouble. You drove it home and I’m looking for parts to fix it. Or if you’ve got a better story, tell them that.” Jackson parked outside a white frame house with three trucks out front. He nodded toward his vehicle and said, “The keys are in it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t have to tell you not to tell anyone,” Jackson said.
“No, sir, you do not!”
“Good. Thanks, Waylon. I owe you one.”
Maria opened the door. Heather was sitting in a rocking chair with a beer in her hands. She pointed to the sofa, where Loretta was laid out like a princess in one of Nona’s childhood movies.
“Be gentle with her,” Maria said.
“Did she drink this whole damn bottle of Jameson?” Jackson asked.
“No, we helped a little bit,” Heather said. “We celebrated her coming home and we toasted her telling her sisters to go to hell.”
“She called her sisters?”
“Oh, yeah, right before she passed plumb out. Emmy Lou said they’ll have one of them intervention things,” Maria said. “God, my head is already hurting. Never mix beer and whiskey, Jackson.”
“Did Loretta mix it?”
“No but she did mix Jameson and Jack Daniel’s. It’s not bad with a little root beer in it,” Heather said.
Loretta was limp in his arms when he picked her up. “One of y’all able to open the door? Either of you want to tell me what sparked all this?”
“You caused it, so don’t go all self-righteous on us.” It took her three tries to get the self-righteous pronounced right. “You can thank us later.”
Jackson bypassed the idea of a motel and took Loretta to the old hunting cabin at the back of Lonesome Canyon. He laid her on the bottom bunk bed and opened the windows and doors to let what little breeze there was flow through. He pulled up a kitchen chair and drank in his fill of Loretta.
How could he have ever, ever been so stupid as to flirt with other women? How could he not have seen that she didn’t have as much self-esteem as a gorgeous, long-legged woman should have?
It was near dark when she groaned and rolled from her side to her back. “Jackson? My mouth tastes like . . . Oh. My. God. I was drunk. Dammit, my head hurts. What happened? Did I wreck the truck?”
He leaned over and kissed her.
“Is this the hunting cabin? What am I doing here? I was at Heather’s and . . . Shit! Jackson, I think I talked to all three of my sisters.”
“I think that you told them to go to hell and I do believe there was talk of an intervention.” He grinned. “What caused all this?”
She frowned. “Heather is a genius.”
“For getting you fall-down drunk?”
“It’s gone. I guess I just need to talk it to death and tell my sisters where to go, but it’s gone.”
“What is gone?”
“That feeling that I had all week like everything was unsettled. Do you have some gum or is there toothpaste in this place? There’s a horrible taste in my mouth.”
He pointed to the cabinet above the sink.
She slung her legs over the side of the bunk and stood up. Without wavering, she made it to the sink and brushed her teeth. “That’s much better. Let’s go home now.”
“Are you hungry? Do you want to go up to Claude for a hamburger?” Jackson asked.
She shook
her head. “I want to go home. I want a long soaking bath,” she said. “I’m not hungry.”
“Then we’ll go home. You want to tell me what this was all about? Heather says I caused it. Is that true?” he asked.
“You did. We had sex and then Ezra talked about dying and Nona is probably going to stay on the ranch no matter what I say. And it seemed like my world was twirling off the axis, but it’s better now,” she said.
“Where do we go from here? We need to talk about this some more.”
“Hell if I know where we are going, but I’m all talked out. Remember when Nona told you that men talked things to death? Well, sometimes us womenfolks need the same thing even if it is about something different than buying a damn ranch or which field to plow up next. Evidently I needed my two old friends to listen and I needed to get drunk so I would talk. It was the best damn therapy in the whole world.” She smiled.
Jackson leaned across the seat and kissed her again. “Welcome home, Loretta.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said.
He was whistling “Deeper Than the Holler” when he helped her stand up. “Do I need to carry you to the truck or can you make it on your own two feet?”
“Honey, I could walk all the way to Oklahoma right now if I wanted to.”
Chapter Sixteen
AFTER SUPPER ROSIE BROUGHT a thick three-ring binder to the table and laid it down with a thud. “Two things are happening this summer. Number one, I’m training a replacement and retiring. I’m not leaving the ranch. I will still live in my little house out at the base of the canyon, but I won’t be coming in here every day to cook and clean. So you’ll start interviewing my replacement by the end of this week. My last day on the job will be September first.”
“Oh, no!” Nona gasped.
“Oh, yes,” Rosie nodded. “I’m eighty years old. It’s time for me to step down.”
“And the second thing?” Jackson asked.
“Loretta is planning the Fourth of July party.” She slid the book across the table. “It’s your baby. Have fun.”
“Oh, no!” It was Loretta’s turn to suck air.
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