by Clay, Verna
Being honest with herself, she knew Jackson was fly-paper to her both emotionally and physically. The man lit a fire that Jerry had extinguished years ago. If Jackson and Dixie got together, she'd never be able to continue working at the Triple T. Her heart couldn't take that kind of hit.
A couple of hours later she finished shopping and drove back to the ranch. She unloaded the flats of pansies for the front flowerbeds she'd found at markdown prices, and then she made three trips back and forth to unload the rest of her purchases. Jackson wasn't around, but that was just as well because he would chide her about working on her day off.
She put her purchases away and then let herself out through the mud room and walked the short trail to her cottage. She usually drove by way of a side road, but the late afternoon sun setting clouds aflame with oranges and reds, made her want to enjoy a walk before sunset. She had just entered her homey cottage when her cell phone rang. Reaching into her purse pocket she looked at the caller ID—Molly. "Hi Granny, I've been missing you."
"Hello, dear heart. I've been missing you, too. How's the job coming along?"
"Wonderful. I've got the house running smooth. Now I'm working in the gardens."
"If ever there was a homemaker, it's you," Molly said sincerely. "And how is your hot cowboy?"
"Granny!"
"Ann, I may be your grandmother and up in years, but I'm not blind or dead—which brings me to the reason for my call."
"What's that?"
"I've decided to have an affair with Newt."
Ann choked and couldn't catch her breath.
"Get a drink of water, sweetie. I'll wait."
"Just a minute," she gasped, and put the phone on the counter. She reached for a glass and stuck it under the faucet. After a couple of swallows she got her breath back and picked up the phone. "I'm back," she rasped.
"Good, dear. Now, as I was saying, I've decided that Newt and I should have an affair. We hit it off great while I was there and he's put the giggle back in my gaggle."
"Are you sure about this?"
"Honey, I ain't gettin' younger. Course I'm sure. Can you put me up for a week? Do you think that cowboy of yours would mind?"
"Granny, he's not my cowboy. He's my employer."
"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee. That man can't keep his eyes off you and visa-versa. Do you think he'll mind if I visit my only granddaughter?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Good, cause I already got my bus ticket. I'll be there next Saturday. You can pick me up at the depot at one-thirty. One more thing. Don't spill the beans about me comin' to see Newt, cause timing has everything to do with the outcome of a rain dance." Molly giggled, "How's my cowboy lingo? I've been studying the language on the internet."
After Molly hung up, Ann plopped in a kitchen chair—Molly and Newt, lovers—she covered her mouth and snickered.
* * *
Ann switched the crock pot on. She'd come across a recipe for Slower-than-Slow, Slow-Cooker Chicken Dumplings. She heard the mud room door open and turned to see Jackson enter the kitchen carrying a squirming kitten. The tiny black and white ball of fluff with bright green eyes, and a black circle around one eye and a white circle around the other, captured her heart. "How adorable!"
"I found him wandering by the river. He doesn't belong to any of our barn cat mothers. If I hadn't caught him, he'd probably be a coyote's breakfast right now. I can't leave him with the barn cats because the new mother might not take a liken' to him. How would you feel about keeping an eye on him until I can introduce him to the other cats? It may take a week or so."
Ann lifted the kitten from his hands and stroked its soft fur. "I'd love to watch him. What are you going to name him? I'm assuming it's a boy because you said 'him'."
"Yep, it’s a boy. Why don't you name him?"
Ann looked up and smiled. "Okay, let me think about it."
"I'll stop by Hank's Feed and pick up cat litter and kitten chow later today. You can feed him hamburger meat until then. I'll buy a little cat bed, too." Jackson stroked the kitten's head and then turned to leave.
"Um, Jackson?"
He turned back around.
"I hope you don't mind, but I invited Dixie to lunch on Thursday."
"Of course I don't mind. She's a great lady."
"Well, I was wondering, would you like to have lunch with us? I'm making spaghetti." Ann knew Jackson loved spaghetti.
"Now I wouldn't want to intrude on you ladies."
Ann quickly assured him, "You wouldn't be intruding at all. We'd love to have you."
"What time?"
"Noon."
"I'll be there."
"Um, there's one other thing. My grandmother Molly called and she wants to spend a week with me. Is that okay?" The kitten meowed and Ann cuddled it close to her chest.
Jackson walked back and placed the tip of his finger under her chin. He lifted her head to hold his gaze. "Annie, you don't have to ask my permission to invite people to lunch or to visit. Do you think I'm an ogre?"
"Goodness, no! Have I offended you?"
Jackson chuckled. "You are way too cute for your own good. I doubt you could offend if you tried. He ran his finger down her cheek and then swiftly turned and left through the mud room. She heard the back door close.
Ann's heart pounded like she'd run a marathon. Holding the kitten with one hand, she lifted her other one to touch her cheek where Jackson had run his finger. The kitten squirmed. "I better feed you, little one."
* * *
Ann twirled spaghetti around her fork tines and listened to Jackson and Dixie laugh. They had both grown up in the area and knew mutual friends, although Jackson was older by five years and so they hadn't gone to high school together. Ann didn't feel like eating after realizing again how well they hit it off. The new kitten, Spike, brushed her leg. "Looks like Spike is on the loose again." She smiled and reached to pick him up. I'll be right back.
Dixie laughed, "I see why you call him Spike. That tuft of hair on his head is adorable."
Jackson laughed, too, "I was going to introduce him to barn living, but Annie's taken such a likin' to him, I think he's hers."
Ann said, "He follows me around all day and goes to the cottage at night. I love animals, but Jerry would never let me have…" Her voice trailed and she blushed. "I'll be right back." Quickly, she turned and took Spike to his bed in the laundry room, shutting the door and leaning against it. Now she felt stupid for revealing her personal baggage. She also felt like crying. The more she was around Jackson the more she loved him. She closed her eyes. No use denying it.
Bending and patting the kitten one last time, she scooted out the door before he could follow. When she returned to the terrace, Dixie and Jackson were laughing uproariously. Ann pasted a smile on her face.
Saturday came on the wings of a summer shower while she waited for the bus to arrive with Molly. The bus depot was as big as a closet with a tiny ticket counter and a sleepy looking old man wearing a round blue cap with a little black bill. She sat in one of the ancient plastic chairs and watched a mother hum and rock her infant.
"How old is your baby?" asked Ann.
"She was born a month ago yesterday." The woman lifted the blanket so Ann could see the sweet little girl's face.
"She's beautiful!"
The young woman laughed. "That's what I thought the moment I saw her. You got kids?"
"Yes, I have a grown son. He just got married, in fact."
"No way! You don't look old enough to have a grown son."
Ann smiled at the woman's compliment. "Thank you."
"I plan on havin' at least six kids. I was raised in a big family and loved it. My husband was, too. We're goin' to spread havin' em far apart though. We was thinkin' we'd have our last one when we're in our forties. I'm twenty-two and my oldest sister is forty-four. My youngest sister is eighteen."
"Goodness. That's quite an age difference."
The woman grinned. "By the way, my name is Mary
and this is Martha." She nodded toward the baby.
"Hi, I'm Ann."
"So Ann, if you're hankerin' to have a baby, you look plenty young enough. I saw a program on TV where women in their fifties was still havin' babies."
Ann was saved from having to answer when the bus honked and pulled under the awning. The noise startled Martha and she started crying. Mary turned all her attention to comforting her child.
Ann waited inside the terminal until she saw Molly being assisted from the bus by the driver. She rushed outside and called, "Granny!"
Molly saw her and waved. Ann hurried to hug her sweet grandmother. "Granny, you look wonderful. You've changed your hair color."
"That's right, sweetie. No more of that blue stuff for me. I've decided blondes have more fun. Do you think Newt will like it?"
"I don't see how he couldn't. You've changed your makeup, too."
"I went to one of those parties where the gal gives you a makeover hoping to sell you a butt load of stuff. She did such a good job on me, I bought a butt load and made her a good sales commission."
The driver unloaded Molly's suitcase and Ann lifted it. "I'm parked over here." Molly hoisted the strap of her oversized purse across her shoulder and followed her.
After Ann got Molly's suitcase crammed in the hatchback and Molly in the front seat, she started to close the passenger door, but Molly stopped her. Ann looked down into her old, but still pretty face. Molly patted her hand. "Thanks for having me. I'm as excited as a school girl. Haven't felt like this since I was sixty and had a fling with that RV salesman. He wasn't much to look at but he was sure good at…well, never mind, dear. He don't hold a candle to Newt, though. I got a date tonight with my cowboy. He's takin' me to a place called Sizzling Sicily for dinner. I can't wait to hear more of his stories about the Old West. He makes me feel like I'm right there amongst the gunslingers and saloon gals." She winked at Ann. "If all goes well after I spring my surprise about us having an affair, I'll be home late. I'll call and let you know."
"Uh, okay, Granny." Ann closed the door. Molly was one of a kind.
When Ann pulled off the highway and through the gates of Triple T, Molly asked, "How's that handsome cowboy you work for?"
"Oh, Jackson is fine. He works very hard to keep his ranch running smooth. I love taking care of the main house and it allows him to do what he does best—raise cattle and horses."
"Ann, I hope you realize the man has it bad for you. It was as plain as the nose on my face at Julie and Jacob's wedding. When the two of you danced, I had to fan myself from the heat being generated."
"Wh-at? No, Granny, I don't think so. Besides, I'm ten years older than him."
"What's that got to do with anything? I'm several years older than Newt. Being older just makes us yummier to men. You know, it's the seasoning that gives the flavor. Personally, I'm fond of chili pepper."
Ann shook her head and chuckled. "Granny, you are so funny." She turned onto the dirt road leading to her cottage and followed it until it forked at the river. Turning right, she pulled in front of her little home a few minutes later.
"Goodness, this is lovely," Molly exclaimed.
"I knew you'd love it." Before Ann opened her door, she laid her hand over Molly's blue veined one. "I'm so glad you're here."
Molly placed her hand over Ann's. "Me too, Granddaughter."
Newt picked Molly up at seven looking dapper and slicked down. When he entered the house and removed his Stetson, Ann wanted to laugh out loud when she saw his thick grey hair gelled to perfection. She invited him to the kitchen for a glass of iced tea so Molly could enter fashionably late.
Ann did a double-take when her grandmother stepped into the room. She looked like a cowgirl in her maroon crushed velvet western skirt and matching embroidered blouse with white fringe across the bodice. Pretty white suede boots made the outfit perfect. Her blond hair, strategically mussed, set off her lovely cheekbones accented with new makeup.
Ann watched Newt gulp and Granny giggle. She noticed Newt had borrowed Sarah's beautiful Lexus SUV that Sage had bought her for Christmas. After they left, Ann fell back on her bed laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. Molly and Newt—"Wanna be Cowgirl" and "Died in the Wool Cowboy"—hot item of the year!
Late that night, Ann got a phone call from Molly. In a hushed tone her granny said, "Newt and me are sneaking into his room. Don't wait up. Gotta go, love." The line went dead. Ann looked at her cell phone and grinned. Granny was serious about having an affair with Newt.
Before sunrise, Ann heard a vehicle pull in front of the cottage. Peeking out her window, she saw Newt's old truck. He helped Molly out and then stepped close. Their dark shapes merged into one. Ann felt like a voyeur and stepped away from the curtain. After a few minutes, Molly entered the cottage and called, "I'm home, dear! I saw you at the window! I'm sleeping late!"
Chapter 10: Alligator
Ann finished grinding fresh coffee and filling the basket. She poured water in the holding tank and started the brew. She wanted to make a good impression on Jackson's friend, Alligator. He'd called Jackson a few days after Molly left and said he was coming for a week's visit. His hopper plane had flown into Cortez/Montezuma Airport late the previous night so she hadn't been at the house when he'd arrived.
Ann reached into the cupboard to gather pancake mix and syrup to begin preparations for the man-sized breakfast she was going to serve Jackson and his friend. She had her head in the refrigerator when she heard the kitchen door open. Pulling out a carton of eggs, she turned around with a smile that turned into a little gasp. Alligator was huge. He looked like he should be playing defensive end for the Dallas Cowboys.
Jackson said, "Annie, I'd like you to meet Al Kosky, alias Alligator. Al, this is Annie Hackstetter. She runs the household and I'd be lost without her."
Ann set the carton of eggs on the counter and extended her hand to Alligator. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Kosky." She couldn't help but notice a strange look pass across his face when he shook her hand. She wondered if her lipstick was smeared and casually rubbed a finger around her lips.
"My pleasure," he replied, his New York accent unmistakable. "But please call me Al or Alligator."
"You must call me Ann…" she glanced at Jackson, "…or Annie."
Jackson slapped Alligator on the back. Come on, I'll show you around. How long til you think breakfast will be ready, Annie?"
"About a half hour."
"Do you need me to do anything?"
"Nope, I've got it under control. You'll have the breakfast of champions when you return." She smiled at Jackson and his friend and felt that weird vibe again."
* * *
Jackson proudly took Alligator on a tour of the house and the terrace. Lastly, he showed him his office.
Al said, "I never realized how great this place is because Tommy still owned it the last time I was here. You were living in the cottage. Is that where Annie lives?"
Even though Alligator tried to sound casual, Jackson wondered what his friend was getting at.
"Yeah, that's one of the perks of her job."
"So, how long has she worked for you?"
"A couple months. Why?"
"No reason."
"Okay, Alligator, something's up. You gonna spill the beans."
"There's nothing up. I just think you're sweet on her and I want to make sure she's not a gold-digger."
"Annie, a gold-digger?" he laughed. "If it weren't so ludicrous, I'd punch you in the mouth for even suggesting it. And, for your information, she's strictly my house manager, nothing more."
Alligator lifted an eyebrow, but didn't reply.
* * *
Ann did everything in her power to make Alligator's visit enjoyable. For a week she endured his questions that on the surface seemed casual, but appeared to be fishing for information.
She had no idea what was going on with the man and often saw Jackson giving him an irritated look. When Jackson drove him to catch
his hopper flight the Saturday after he'd arrived, she breathed a sigh of relief. The man had her walking on eggshells.
Chapter 11: Bad Man
Ann loaded groceries into her car at Biggie Bag-n-Save Big Mart. She had just set the last sack in the backseat when a car pulled into the parking space beside her. The expensive black Mercedes with super dark tinted windows made her uneasy. She reached to shut the back door on her car's driver's side and heard a window on the sleek car roll down.
"Hello, Mrs. Hackstetter."
She whirled around.
The greeting had been spoken by a pockmarked, silver-haired man in the backseat wearing glasses as dark as the tinted windows. Ann could see her reflection in the lenses. She was so stunned she just stared at him like a simpleton before gasping, "How do you know my name?" She reached for her door handle, ready to jump in her car and make a hasty retreat.
"I'm not going to harm you. I just want to talk to you."
Ann glanced toward the entrance to the market wishing she'd parked closer. "I don't know you. What could you want to talk to me about?" Icy foreboding traveled up her spine.
"Your dead husband."
She gasped. "Wh-why?"
"He died owing me money."
"I-I can't help you. I don't have any money."
"Maybe you don't, but you know some very rich people. I've had you under surveillance."
"I don't know anyone." She edged closer to her door.
"Before you make a hasty exit, I suggest you consider the welfare of your son and new daughter-in-law."
A trembling began in Ann's body and fear froze her to the spot.
The man in the black business suit and dark glasses continued, "Your husband borrowed 25 G's from me, and when I don't get paid back on time, the amount doubles. Since he defaulted—death doesn't count—looks like you owe me 50 G's. It took awhile to catch up with you, but rest assured, I'm not leaving until I get my money."