by Carol Finch
When Nate didn’t respond, Fuzz snickered. “Aw, come on, son. You think I didn’t know how you mooned over that girl? You think the judge didn’t trot into my office and demand that I slap a restraining order on you after he found out the two of you were meeting on the sly?”
Nate’s eyes widened in surprise. He’d had a few confrontations with old man Bates, none of them pleasant. Dave Bates had warned Nate to stay away from his precious daughter, threatened to blow him to smithereens if Nate so much as set foot on the front porch. According to old man Bates, Nate was the worst kind of white trash that ever drew breath and he wasn’t fit to breathe the same air as Katy. But Nate hadn’t known the influential Judge Bates had tried to twist Fuzz’s arm into taking legal action, in attempt to halt the blossoming romance.
“Oh, yeah,” Fuzz said, then chuckled. “Dave bent my ears all the damn time. He claimed you were stalking his daughter, insisted that she was terrified of you. But I knew better. While I was cruising around the school grounds, I saw the way Katy looked at you when the two of you were speaking privately.”
“But you didn’t knuckle under to the judge’s pressure,” Nate presumed.
“No, I told Dave there was no evidence of wrongdoing. I also told him that I had talked to Katy, and she confirmed that you had done nothing whatsoever to deserve a restraining order.” Fuzz grinned wryly. “But I did cruise through that residential section of town enough times to notice that rattletrap car you used to drive was often parked a few doors down the street from Katy’s house.”
Nate squirmed uncomfortably. He’d had it bad in those days. He couldn’t begin to count the nights he had driven to Katy’s neighborhood and sat there in his car, staring at that house, wishing he were welcome. He would sit there puffing on a cigarette, wishing he wasn’t a social pariah, wishing Katy wasn’t off-limits, wishing he had the right to escort her around town and let all the other boys know she belonged to him. Oh, yeah, and he’d also wished he could win the lottery so he could afford to take her out to fancy restaurants, like the kids of Coyote Flats’ high society did when they dated.
In those days Nate barely had enough pocket change to fuel his gas-guzzling, bucket-of-rust car and put food in his mouth. His ill-fitting clothes were hand-me-downs that the United Methodist Women’s Society donated to his family once a year, along with a Thanksgiving basket of food.
It had been humiliating to be dirt poor and to be head over boot heels in love with a girl whose weekly allowance was higher than the salary he made as part-time attendant at the service station.
Embarrassment and humiliation didn’t keep Nate from caring deeply for that warm, sweet young woman who treated him as if he were special, though the other members of her social clique flung up their noses and pretended he didn’t exist. Nate honestly didn’t know what Katy had seen in him back in those days, but she had bolstered his confidence, defended him to her snooty friends, treated him with the kind of respect he had never encountered in Coyote Flats.
Nope, Nate reminded himself. There had been no one like Katy Bates. Every woman he’d been with since then had never measured up to her. She had been kind, caring, supportive and generous of heart. Nowadays, women were easily accessible because of his financial success in the oil industry. But Nate hadn’t had time for lengthy relationships, not when he was obsessively driven to succeed in business, to keep the promise he had made to himself when Sheriff Fuzz Havern had loaded his sorry butt into the squad car and driven straight to Bud Thurston’s ranch. During that late-night drive, Fuzz had told Nate that he was going to get one chance to make something out of his life. If he blew it, he would be on his own.
That long-winded lecture from Fuzz was something Nate had never forgotten. He’d been scared and desperate enough to listen that fateful night.
“Katy has changed drastically over the years, hasn’t she?” Fuzz said, jostling Nate from his pensive musings.
“I almost didn’t recognize her,” Nate admitted. “What happened?”
Fuzz rose to his feet. “I’m going to rob your fridge of a Coke to wet my whistle. Want one?”
Nate nodded as he rose to let the mongrel outside. When he returned, Fuzz handed him an iced-down cola, then sprawled in his chair. “The only reason I can tell you about what happened to Katy is that the two detrimental influences in her life are dead and gone, so you can’t revert to your old ways and beat the hell out of them.”
Nate winced. God, how grim was this tale? he wondered. It must be bad if Fuzz predicted Nate would be tempted to tear off on a mission of revenge.
Fuzz sipped his cola, then focused solemnly on Nate. “I chose to transport you out of town that night, despite the fact that Judge Bates wanted you incarcerated so he could have you delivered to a detention center. From that day forward, the judge took Katy firmly and relentlessly in hand. You already know about Dave’s crusade to pick her friends for her.”
Nate nodded. He remembered that Katy often confided her frustration with her old man. Dave saw his daughter as a reflection on his prominent position in the county. He was convinced that he and his children had a lofty image to uphold. The family was wealthy and high-class, and they were not supposed to associate with white trash, not even in this small community with its cross section of socioeconomic classes. Katy resented her father’s snobbish airs, but Dave ruled his roost with a stern hand, and when he pounded his gavel, he considered his decrees forevermore written in stone.
“Judge Bates decided the Butlers, who owned the big ranch south of town, would make an ideal connection. The Butlers had money coming out their ears,” Fuzz explained. “They also had a son and daughter who were close enough in age to Katy and her brother, James, to make a double match.”
Nate swore under his breath. He had never had a smidgen of respect for the high-and-mighty Judge Bates, who looked down his nose at the less fortunate. But Dave’s patriarchal matchmaking filled Nate with disgust.
Fuzz took another sip of his drink, then continued. “Dave pushed his son at Butler’s daughter, shelling out money so James could escort Shelly to the fanciest restaurants, the best movies and musical concerts held in Odessa.” He glanced pointedly at Nate. “Of course, if James wanted to date someone else, there was no pocket change handed out.”
“In other words, the judge used money to bribe his son into turning his attention to Shelly Butler,” Nate muttered.
“You got it,” Fuzz confirmed. “As for Katy, she was only allowed to date Brad Butler. If anyone else asked her out during high school she wasn’t allowed to go.”
“Brad Butler,” Nate murmured thoughtfully. “Wasn’t he the hotshot football star who went to play at West Texas State for a couple of years after graduation?”
“Right,” Fuzz replied. “Bradley’s dad made generous contributions to the college athletic program to get his kid on the roster. Brad was big and mean and loved full-body contact sports, on and off the playing field.”
The bitter sound of Fuzz’s voice caused alarm signals to clang in Nate’s brain. Sure as hell, he was going to hate hearing what came next.
“With Dave Bates pushing and prodding both his kids, they married into the Butler family. James was married a month after he graduated high school and had a child within the year.”
“A girl who works at the library with Katy?” Nate asked.
“That’d be Tammy,” Fuzz confirmed. “Her mama ran off with another man when Tammy was six, causing the Butlers and the judge all sorts of embarrassment. James only comes around a couple of weekends a month. He is married to his profession as a legal consultant for one of those highfalutin corporations in Dallas. Tammy lives with Katy most of the time.”
“And Katy’s husband?” Nate questioned. The first thing he had noticed when he recognized Katy at the café was that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. According to what Fuzz had said earlier, Nate knew that Brad Butler had died. “What happened to the football star?”
“Six feet under,” Fuzz sa
id without an ounce of regret. “Same as Judge Bates, who had a heart attack and keeled over on the courthouse steps. Dave and Brad are probably rotting in hell together as we speak.”
No love lost there, Nate noted. It was easy to tell that Fuzz wasn’t a member of Dave or Brad’s fan clubs.
Fuzz squirmed in his chair, clearly unenthused about continuing this briefing. “You got any chips and dip in that fully automated refrigerator of yours?”
Nate smiled faintly as he came to his feet. He remembered how Fuzz had carried on about the ice-and-water dispenser in the door of the freezing unit. The man loved to watch crushed ice plunk into his glass.
“Sure, Fuzz, dip and chips coming right up.”
Chapter Three
Nate grabbed the sack of Doritos and spicy salsa, then strode back to the living room to set the snacks on the end table beside Fuzz. “I’ve been thinking about hiring a cook and housekeeper,” Nate commented. “Do you think Mary Jane Calloway might be interested?”
Fuzz grinned devilishly. “You sly young scamp. You haven’t outgrown your ornery streak entirely, have you. If you hire Mary Jane away from Coyote Café, the whole town will be up in arms. It’s the only decent place in town to eat, the place where Lester Brown hangs out, shooting off his big mouth.”
Nate returned the wry grin. “As I see it, I would be doing Mary Jane a favor. She’s a widow who has a hard time making ends meet. If she comes to work for me, she’ll have shorter work hours and better pay. You think she might be interested?”
“You want me to ask her?”
Nate bobbed his head.
“Done.” Fuzz rubbed his lean belly. “I can almost taste her mouthwatering homemade pies from here. She can make chicken-fried steak and gravy that is to die for. Mmm…and her pot roast—”
“You’re stalling,” Nate broke in. “You were going to tell me about Katy’s marriage.”
Fuzz crammed a chip in his mouth, chewed, then swallowed. “You’re right, son. But I’m not one of those people who gets his kicks from reporting disasters. That was exactly what Katy’s marriage was—pure dee-saster.”
Nate sipped his drink, wishing he could have been there to rescue Katy. But that had been impossible. The night Nate was driven to Bud Thurston’s ranch, Fuzz made him promise not to make contact with anyone in Coyote Flats. Nate suspected Judge Bates would have been waiting for him, looking for any excuse to shove No-Account Nate into the Texas penal system—and keep him there indefinitely. The judge had the power and connections to get it done.
Until today, Nate hadn’t realized the full extent of Fuzz’s intervention. The judge had wanted a quick conviction and jail time. Fuzz had bucked the judge and insisted on an alternative plan. No doubt, Fuzz had promised that Nate would have no future contact with Katy.
Fuzz champed on a few more chips, then sighed audibly. “Well, hell, there is no delicate way to describe Katy’s marriage, so I may as well be blunt. Katy gave up fighting the judge’s domineering decrees after you left town. Her daddy sang high praises to Brad Butler and put on a spectacular wedding that boasted all the bells and whistles. I didn’t have much contact with Katy after her daddy packed her belongings and moved her off to college with Brad. I do know the judge saved Brad’s bacon several times when he was picked up for drunk and disorderly conduct on campus and DWI.”
Nate had a sick feeling in his gut about this prearranged marriage. He suspected the judge had been embarrassed that his son’s marriage had ended in divorce. Therefore, Dave vowed to prevent his daughter’s marriage from reaching scandalous proportions.
“The judge wouldn’t let Katy walk away from her drunken husband, I don’t suppose,” Nate muttered bitterly.
“Of course not,” Fuzz said, then snorted. “Wouldn’t look good for the judge, you know. Katy wanted out, but the judge refused to let her come home, refused to pay her college tuition and living expenses if she divorced Brad. Katy tried to run away and make it on her own, but the judge hired a private detective to track her down in Colorado and bring her back.”
Nate’s opinion of Judge Bates went right down the toilet. Dave’s attempt to prevent Katy’s actions from being seen as a bad reflection on himself was deplorable. He had no concern for his daughter’s well-being or happiness, only for his reputation.
“When Brad got booted off the football team, because of the incident involving rape—”
“Good Lord!” Nate erupted in outrage.
“What can I say?” Fuzz grunted in disgust. “The Butler kid was a creep. I didn’t know all the details until Katy and Brad moved back to Coyote Flats to work on Butler Ranch for his father. I saw Katy every once in a while, sporting a few bruises, but Brad would never let me close enough to question her, always had some excuse about how clumsy she was.”
Nate’s hands curled into tight fists. He had been granted a second chance in life, but Katy had had no chance at all. Her situation had gone from bad to worse after her wedding. Nate’s imagination ran wild, visualizing Brad getting snockered and knocking his wife around for kicks. Apparently the son of a bitch delighted in exerting his strength over a woman.
“No wonder Katy stopped standing up for herself,” Nate muttered. “Her own father manipulated her, then handed her over to an abusive beast. God, I wish I would have been there to go a few rounds with that Neanderthal bully Katy was forced to marry.”
Nate stared at Fuzz, noting the former sheriff’s bleak expression, realizing that, as bad as this tale was, it was going to get worse. Fuzz’s mouth was set in a grim line, and frustrated anger glittered in his eyes.
“Six years ago, Brad and Katy were on their way out to Butler Ranch for Christmas dinner. They had a wreck because Brad was legally intoxicated. He went through the windshield and Katy was trapped in the car, which was wrapped around an electric pole.”
Nate grimaced, realizing what had caused Katy’s limp. “She was hurt badly,” he presumed.
Fuzz nodded. “She was three months pregnant at the time. We cut her from the twisted metal with the jaws of life, and the judge had her airlifted to Dallas for surgery on her broken hip. He paid for the year of physical therapy needed for Katy to walk without crutches or a cane.”
Nate blew out his breath, wishing he could spout the F word a few times. Unfortunately, he had given up saying the queen mother word at the same time he quit smoking. But right now, he would sure feel better if he could chain-smoke and curse a blue streak.
The picture Fuzz painted was so depressing that Nate could understand why Katy’s will to live had been stripped away. His youth had been a nightmare, but her young adult years had been hell. She’d had no one to provide moral support, no one to rescue her from pain and anguish. And so she had drawn into herself, hiding behind a shell, going through the motions of living, existing only in books that lined the shelves in the library. Nate guessed that Katy only read books that guaranteed happy endings. It was her only escape from tormenting reality.
“These days Katy keeps to herself, raises her niece and quietly goes about the business of helping the unfortunate in the community,” Fuzz continued. “If a family is dealing with death or illness, you can count on Katy to arrive at the bereaved family’s home, laden down with food, supplies and flowers.
“Katy moved into her father’s home after his fatal heart attack. She sold the house where she and Brad lived after he was suspended from college. She uses the money she made from the sale to fund the library and aid needy families.”
Nate suspected Katy hadn’t wanted to live in the house where she was knocked around and treated like Brad’s convenient whore. Not that living in the judge’s house was much better. But then, the Bates home was a monstrous structure and a woman who had turned into a recluse had plenty of space to move around.
“Katy took some of the money from her inheritance and set up two college scholarships for high school students who want to make a better place for themselves in society,” Fuzz reported.
Nate smiled
ruefully. He couldn’t help but wonder if Katy was providing for the other Nate Channings in Coyote Flats—the down-on-their-luck kids who faced grim futures. That sounded like something Katy would do. Those qualities of kindness, caring and generosity were still there, he realized. Though Katy had cut herself off from the world, it was her nature to help the less fortunate.
Nate felt so damned sorry for her that he wanted to weep.
“Wipe that look off your face right this very minute,” Fuzz scolded abruptly.
Nate jerked up his head to see Fuzz wagging an index finger in his face. “What look?”
“That pitying look, that’s what,” Fuzz grumbled. “That is the one thing Katy can’t tolerate from folks. I oughta know, because I made the mistake of feeling sorry for her and telling her so.”
Nate winced when he recalled how he had welled up with sympathy at the library. He remembered how Katy had spun around in her chair and promptly dismissed him. She was sensitive about being looked upon with pity, and he had hurt her feelings unintentionally. Well, damn.
“Knowing how you operate,” Fuzz continued, frowning darkly, “You will probably decide to storm over to Katy’s house and tell her how sorry you are that she suffered through a hellish marriage and lost her unborn child, then endured injuries that left her with a noticeable limp.”
Fuzz pushed forward in his chair to stare Nate squarely in the eye. “Hear me and hear me well, Nate. That is not the proper approach to take with Katy. Am I coming through loud and clear?”
“Crystal clear,” Nate confirmed.
“If you have visions of drawing Katy from her shell, you can’t march over there and tell her that you want to take up where the two of you left off all those years ago. I’m no psychologist, but I’ve dealt with enough traumatized and abused victims to know they bottle their emotions inside, just like Katy does. She will never be able to get on with her life until she lets go of her past, until she feels a strong, compelling reason to let go of her pain. My experience tells me that you will have to earn Katy’s trust and confidence, slowly but surely. The men in her life have abused and betrayed her. Any changes she makes in her attitude toward men will be gradual.”