Luckiest Cowboy of All--Two full books for the price of one
Page 17
“I loved you, Wes. You were an amazing husband and father.” She laid a palm on his name. “This happiness I feel now shouldn’t have so much guilt attached to it.”
The crunch of tires on frozen ground took her attention away from the tombstone. A shiny white Caddy stopped not five feet from her and a woman with dyed black hair, high-heeled shoes, and a fancy little business suit gracefully got out of the driver’s seat. She carried a huge armload of red roses and a confused expression covered her thin face.
“Hello,” she said with a flat accent as she laid the flowers at the base. “Were you a friend of Wes’s?”
“Yes, I was,” Hope answered honestly. “Evidently you were too.”
“I was his fiancée. He left East Texas to take a job as a foreman here, and I was supposed to join him,” she said. “I come here once a year to put flowers on his grave.”
Hope got to her feet. “Why didn’t you join him?”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “And you are a complete stranger to me.”
“I’ve got time.” Hope sat on the tombstone, her legs covering up her name. She patted the other side. “Might as well sit a spell and sometimes a stranger is a good person to talk to because they won’t judge you.”
The woman sat down on Wes’s side of the tombstone. “I loved him from the time I was thirteen and he loved me. He had the opportunity for two jobs that year. One only thirty miles from where we grew up in the northeast corner of Texas. The other one was here and he made the choice to come here because it was a bigger ranch.”
“And you found someone else?” Hope asked.
“No, he did. He said that he’d always love me but…”
Hope’s chin quivered. “But his future was here in Happy, right? He could make more, be more, and have a better place in life?”
“Something like that,” she said. “My heart was broken. I made a career for myself and married three times. No children, didn’t want any if I couldn’t have them with him, but he and his wife had a daughter. I couldn’t seem to find happiness until I retired and then I got in touch with him. We met in Amarillo for dinner and it was like we’d never been apart. That was fifteen years ago today, January twelfth. He’s been dead thirteen years this summer.”
Hope was speechless.
“It feels odd tellin’ this to a stranger. How did you know him?” the lady asked.
“We were both in the ranchin’ business,” she whispered.
The woman stood up. “I used to hate the woman who had more money than I did, who could give him a better life, but I don’t anymore. She got to live with him and have his child but I kept a huge chunk of his heart. We had two and a half good years together before he died.”
“You mean…” Hope left the sentence dangling.
“He always felt guilty for cheatin’ on her. I never had a day’s worth of guilt, though. She got the best of him but I got the last of him. Well, thanks for listenin’. It’s a long trip here from where I live now but it’s good for me to remember him this way. Will you be tellin’ his wife what I said?” She asked.
Hope shook her head. “Wes was my very good friend and I’d never tarnish his reputation with his family.”
She circled around the end of the Caddy, got inside, and rolled down the window. “I don’t ask for forgiveness because I knew exactly what I was doing and I’d do it again but I’m glad we met today, Hope.”
“How did you know?” Hope asked.
“I was at his funeral,” the woman answered, and drove away.
Hope sat down in front of the tombstone again, this time with a thud. She picked up the flowers and flung them with a good strong right arm. They hit a tall stone a few yards away and red rose petals floated down like bloody snowflakes.
“Why, Wes?” She slapped the tombstone.
Have you really got the right to get mad? Did you give him your whole heart? All those years when Henry lived across the fence, you often wondered what it would have been like if you’d gone with him. You made that decision before Wes started courting you. Up until then he was just flirting. She didn’t recognize the voice in her head speaking the truth but it didn’t stop the tears.
She got into her truck and drove out of the cemetery with the radio blaring out “Linda on My Mind,” by Conway Twitty. She drove east toward the ranch but instead of turning down the lane, she kept going until she was down at the bottom of the Palo Duro Canyon. She pulled onto a side road and stopped the engine. How many times had Wes lay beside her with another woman on his mind like Conway sang about in the song?
Her phone pinged and she dug it out of her purse.
There was a short text: Being with you is like heaven.
Then there was a link to an old Conway Twitty song, “I May Never Get to Heaven.”
She listened to it six times before she laid the phone to the side. “So we both had our secrets, didn’t we, Wes? I’ll keep yours and not share them with anyone but I’m not going to feel guilty about Henry. Not ever again.”
Carlene brought two hyper little girls home with her that Friday afternoon. They barely stopped in the foyer long enough to hang up their coats before they chased up the stairs to Tilly’s room. In ten minutes they were back down in the kitchen for cookies and milk, to pet the cat, and then off they went back upstairs again.
Someone rapped on the back door and Hope poked her head inside. “Anybody home?”
“Me and two little wild girls. Enter at your own risk,” Carlene answered. “Want a glass of sweet tea?”
“I’d rather have something stronger. How about we break out the Pappy Van Winkle and have a double shot?” Hope tossed her jacket onto a kitchen chair and headed straight for the buffet in the dining room.
“I reckon it’s five o’clock somewhere,” Carlene laughed.
“I don’t give a damn if it’s barely breaking dawn. I need a drink.” Hope poured two healthy double shots and handed one to Carlene. “I’m fixin’ to give you some advice and you can take it or leave it. Pappy is too expensive to throw back like cheap whiskey, so let’s take this to the living room.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Carlene carried her glass with her as she followed Hope. “What’s happening? Did you and Henry break up?”
“Nope, but he’s invited me to Florida and I don’t know what to do about that. I thought it would be easier once he was on the plane and gone, but it’s not. I miss him already and he’s not even home yet.” Hope sipped the bourbon.
Carlene kicked off her shoes, pulled her feet up on the sofa, and let a small sip of the bourbon lay on her tongue a moment before she swallowed. “Lord have mercy! This is some fine stuff.”
“It damn sure better be at more than five hundred dollars a bottle but we’re facin’ life today.” Hope sat down and touched her glass to Carlene’s.
“What happened?”
“I got my eyes opened wide today. I’m not going into the details and I deserve exactly what happened. Matter of fact, I set the whole thing in motion.” She touched the gold necklace around her neck like she did pretty regularly. “So I can’t blame anyone but myself but I’m burying the past and I want you to do the same.”
Carlene took another sip of the bourbon. “Okay, I guess. Are you all right?”
Hope shook her head. “No, I’m not all right but I will be. Conway Twitty is one of my favorite artists and he sings a song called ‘A Bridge That Just Won’t Burn.’ Call it up on your phone and let’s listen to it.”
Carlene set her drink on the massive coffee table and quickly found the song, turned up the volume on her phone, and set it between them on the sofa. “Does this have some meaning for you today?”
“Both of us. You and I are both standing on bridges that won’t burn. Jace never completely got over you and Henry for sure didn’t get over me. We need to realize that, especially you, Carlene, because you’ve got a lot of years in front of you. Most of mine are behind me but by damn I will never waste another one,” Hope said.
“No, we did not,” Hope said emphatically. “If you’d gotten over him, you’d have managed to get yourself into a relationship. If I’d gotten over Henry, I would have taken a couple of widowers up on dinner offers. We have to bury the past, darlin’, and open the door to the future. We tried, but the damn bridges just won’t burn, just like the song says. So we’re goin’ to grab this bull called Future and we’re goin’ to hang on for the full eight seconds.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Carlene nodded. “You sure you don’t want to tell me what got you so worked up today?”
“It wouldn’t matter or change a thing if I did tell you. Just take my advice and give Jace a chance. He’s happy when he’s with you. It won’t be easy, but it’s doable and I’m here if you need me.” She finished off the bourbon and set the empty glass on the table. “Now I’m off to start the first day of the rest of my life. It might last two years or ten or if I’m really lucky, me and Henry will live to be in our nineties and we’ll have twenty, but by damn they will be wonderful years.”
“I bet they will. And, Hope.”
Hope shook her head. “That’s Granny to you, child.”
“Okay, then, Granny.” Carlene smiled. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” Hope bent to hug her. “For listening to me without demanding more than I could give.”
Carlene wasn’t sure what set Hope off that day or what had set off the cussin’ factor—she’d never heard Hope Dalley say damn that many times in one conversation. But she appreciated being made to feel like a friend and part of the family.
As Hope left by the back door, Jace came inside. She shook her finger at him and said, “You leave that Pappy alone. That was for us girls because we needed to get things settled.”
“What’d I do?” he asked as he sank down into a recliner. “And what in the world were you two talkin’ about that made her get out the Pappy?”
“Tell the truth, I’m not real sure, but I believe it had something to do with a bridge that won’t burn.” She hit the button on her phone to replay the old Conway song. “We listened to this while we drank a double shot of the best bourbon I’ve ever had.”
Jace got up and crossed the room and sat down so close to her that sparks lit up the room. He draped an arm around her and tipped up her chin with his fist. The first kiss was kind of sweet but it didn’t take long for them to heat up to the boiling point.
“What’s that all about?” she panted when they heard the girls running down the stairs.
He slid to the other end of the sofa. “If I can’t have a shot, then at least I can taste it on your lips. I got to admit that’s a better way to drink it anyway. And, honey, I expect she’s thinkin’ about Henry but I can understand that song very well. I tried to burn the bridge between me and you in my time, but just like he says, the one with you in the middle ain’t the burnin’ kind.”
“Maybe you just haven’t had the right kind of kindlin’,” she teased.
“I found her.” Tilly’s voice floated down the stairs. “We’ll take her back to my room and you can hold her.”
“They must’ve been chasin’ the cat,” he said as he touched the phone and the song played again. “May I have this dance?”
She let him pull her up and put her arms around his neck. He pulled her close and let his hands rest on the small of her back as they did a slow two-step to the music. “The song says that he threw away the pictures but I didn’t, Carlene. I kept them right along with the last note you sent me.”
“Mama, when’s the pizza going to be ready?” Tilly yelled from the top of the stairs.
“One hour,” she raised her voice to say.
“Good. We’ve got time to play Barbies. Do I hear Blake?”
“No. We’re listenin’ to Conway,” Jace hollered, and then lowered his voice. “Speaking of that.” He two-stepped over to the coffee table and without letting go of Carlene, he leaned over and hit a few icons and “I May Never Get to Heaven” started. He swayed with her to the slow music and whispered the words in her ear as Conway sang them.
His warm breath sent shivers from her scalp to her toes. When the song ended, he kissed the palm of her hands one at a time, slowly. “I did come mighty close to heaven and I was too young to even know it.”
With the warmth of the expensive bourbon heating up her insides along with those hot kisses and the heat from being so close to his body for two songs, she felt like she was floating as he led her back to the sofa. He picked up her phone once more and then laced his fingers in hers, holding her hand across the middle cushion on the sofa.
“That is what I was listenin’ to when I was out plowin’ today,” he said. Randy Travis began to sing “Spirit of a Boy, Wisdom of a Man.” Tears welled up in the back of Carlene’s eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall.
“We live with the decisions that we make in our life like he says. I’m not sure if I would have had the wisdom of a man. Maybe you were right about me just having the spirit of a boy in those days, Carlene. I like to think I would have but who knows. What I do know is that I can’t undo or redo that part but I can tell you that I’d give up the spirit to have the wisdom. Give me a chance.”
“You want a chance. I want time,” she said.
“Fair enough,” he said. “Reckon Granny would miss it if we had a shot of Pappy?”
“I’m not brave enough to take a chance. Maybe we ought to just have a shot of Jack Daniel’s,” she said. “The Pappy is for really special times, remember?”
“I kinda thought this was very special,” he said. “I’m beginning to figure out what’s important in life, so that means it’s an amazing day, right?”
“Not even that sexy smile will work on me. I’m not gettin’ in trouble with Granny and I wouldn’t be surprised if she marked that bottle with a scratch,” she said.
“So you think my smile is sexy?” It grew even bigger across his face. “That’s as good as a shot of Pappy any day of the week, even Sunday.”
“It sounds like a herd of elephants coming down those stairs but I know it’s two little girls.” She stepped away from him.
“How about we save that Jack Daniel’s until they’re in bed?”
“Deal.” She smiled back at him.
Chapter Fifteen
The sun might be shining brightly or gray clouds could hang low in the sky, but there was always wind in the panhandle of Texas in January. That Sunday morning, a gentle breeze barely ruffled Carlene’s hair as she went from the porch to her van.
“Today is a good day.” Tilly fastened her seat belt. “We get to buy a house. I get to go to Maribel’s after that and then when I get home, Jace said he’d take me out for a ride on a four-wheeler. Do you think he’ll let me drive it?”
“Number one,” Carlene said as she backed the van out and headed to church. “We are looking at a house, not buying it. Number two, you can’t drive a four-wheeler today.”
“Well, maybe it’s not a good day after all,” Tilly pouted.
“You do get to go to Maribel’s. One out of three isn’t so bad that it will ruin your complete day,” Carlene told her.
“If I wear my bicycle helmet, can I drive it?”
“What does it mean when I say no?”
Tilly sighed. “It means no. And I don’t suppose we’re going to buy the house?”
“That has a better chance than you driving the four-wheeler,” Carlene answered. “Are you ready to move?”
Tilly shrugged. “I love it on the ranch, but if we’re goin’ to leave…”
“Got mixed feelin’s about it, right?” Carlene made a left turn out onto the road from the lane. “One part wants to live there forever and the other part doesn’t want to say good-bye to the ranch and Jace so you might as well get it over with if you have to move again. Am I getting close to what you feel?”
Tilly’s head bobbed. “I like it when it’s just me and yo
u, like it always has been. Livin’ on the ranch is fun but it’s like a vacation. And I really do like Jace as a friend, Mama. But he can be our friend no matter where we live, right?”
Carlene snagged a parking spot not far from the front door of the church. “And when the vacation is over, it’s time to go to our real home. And yes, Jace can be our friend no matter where we move.”
“Why didn’t Jace come with us this mornin’?”
“He had to leave early so he could teach Sunday school today. The guy who usually takes care of the teenage class has the flu, so Jace is standing in for him today.”
“Is he comin’ to lunch with us?” Tilly asked.
“Not today. It’s just me and you, kid.” Carlene lowered her voice to a growl like a character from a cartoon.
Tilly giggled. “I like that, Mama. Just me and you.”
Because the church was packed that morning and they’d arrived at the last minute, Carlene and Tilly had to sit in the back pew beside some folks she didn’t know. They sang a congregational hymn and then the preacher took the podium.
“Good mornin’. It’s good to see all the seats full this mornin’. To start off, let’s all recite the Lord’s Prayer because that’s what’s been on my mind this week.”
Everyone bowed their heads. Tilly didn’t stumble over a single sentence but at the end she muttered, “And please make my mama change her mind about me driving a four-wheeler.”
The preacher cleared his throat and went on. “Some of us think we’ve got to have a new car every year or a big fancy house to live in or maybe enough money to keep us until the end of our days, but what Jesus prayed for was simply that he’d be given his daily bread. Not enough to last a week or a month but just for today…”