by Tina Leonard
Despite your bout with pills. Her father hadn’t said it, but she knew he was thinking it. That brought another thought searing into her mind.
“I’m pregnant.”
Sun and Moon stared at their only child in dismay. “Pregnant?” Sun repeated.
“Are you getting married?” Moon demanded.
“Yes to the first question, and no to the second.” Stormy shook her head at them. “Don’t act so shocked. You both had revolving doors on your bedrooms most of my childhood.”
“Well, yes, but we knew how to use birth control,” Sun informed her. “Even in the heyday of the sixties, we were careful about those things.”
So free-spiritedness had flown out the window now that they had turned fifty years old. Stormy shrugged. “I didn’t know I was going to need birth control pills.”
“Why not?” her mother demanded. “If you engage in sexual activity, you need precaution.”
“Well, up until my trip to Desperado, keeping my knees together had been a sufficient form of birth control.” Stormy sighed, going over to plop down in a round sofa. What little furniture was in this shabby house in the California mountains retained the late sixties-early seventies look.
“Are you saying that you were a virgin until the age of thirty?” Sun stared at her daughter in astonishment.
Stormy wondered why conversations in her family always had to be so open. At some point, there should have been limits to what was discussed with Mom, what could be aired with Dad, and what constituted private matters. “Sex in the nineties can kill you. Free love died some time back. Yes, I was a virgin.”
Sun started to weep. “That means you finally fell in love. Why aren’t you getting married?”
“Neither one of us is interested.”
Moon sighed and put away his guitar. “I don’t understand this new generation. It’s all divorce and lack of commitment.”
“Oh, no,” Stormy groaned. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Perplexed, she stared at the parents who had named her Virginia Caroline Nixon, but then crumbled under their hip pretensions and nicknamed her Stormy. Her mother said giving birth to her on the coldest, windiest night of the year had helped. Otherwise, they would have named her Star, so their family would have been complete. Sun, Moon, and Star. She sighed. “Listen, I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with this discussion. Mom, could you just tell me what to do about morning sickness?”
“Oh, dear.” Her mother grabbed a tissue to wipe her eyes. “Yoga. You need to meditate, dear. You must get rid of the inner turmoil inside you which is causing your morning sickness.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Sun,” her father complained, “give her the name of your herbalist and spare her that meditation crap.”
Stormy got to her feet and went to give each of her parents a kiss. “I’ll figure it out myself. Thanks for your help.”
She went to the front door, but her mother called after her.
“If you lost your virginity in Texas, hon, maybe you’ll find peace if you go back. You should consider Jonathan’s offer carefully.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll call you if I do.” Stormy closed the door on her parents’ home and left, shaking her head. They didn’t understand. Making love didn’t necessarily mean marriage, any more now than it had during her parents’ generation. Falling in love still hurt, though. What Cody felt for her was complicated, but he certainly had stressed he didn’t want marriage, never mind children.
Getting into her car, she opened the ashtray and pulled out a set of hinged snake teeth she’d swiped from Cody’s dresser when she left. He’d been lying in bed asleep. It had been three o’clock in the morning. She’d discovered the problem with the condom and, quickly calculating her cycle, realized she might be at a fertile time. All she wanted to do was escape. There was no way she could say goodbye to Cody easily, and thinking about it left her sleepless. She’d packed her stuff, grabbed the teeth, taken a last lingering look at the big slumbering rancher, and made a director’s cut on that scene in her life.
She had found peace in Desperado once, but there would only be pain there now.
“Heard from Stormy?” Sloan asked.
“Hell, no. Why would I?” Cody wished everybody he laid eyes on wouldn’t ask him that. He was damn tired of answering the question. What had that woman done while she was in this town to make folks wonder about her so much?
Lots of things. He shifted uneasily in the chair in Sloan’s office. “Do you mind not asking me that constantly?”
“Sorry, pal. Just thought that since the movie crew had landed, you mighta heard.” Sloan eyed him easily.
“Don’t expect to,” he said curtly. “She never said she was coming back.”
“Well, then. Guess you won’t mind going out on a double date Saturday night with some twins from Shiloh.”
“Hell, yes, I would mind!” Cody stared his friend down, wondering if he’d lost his sanity. “The only twins over there are Wrong-Way’s sisters, and I wouldn’t have contact with anything of his.”
“You got nothing better to do.”
“I’ve always got something better to do than go out on a date with women I don’t want to talk to. It’s a poor reason to put dress jeans on. I can’t stand trying to make small talk. It makes my scalp itch.”
“Nah. That’s ’cause your braid’s too tight. Come on, Cody. Let’s relax, have some fun, let your hair down.”
“Nope.” Cody got to his feet. “You’re a laugh a minute today, but I never went out with women much before Stormy came around, and I see no reason to change my way of doing things now. Nice try, though, friend.”
“What?” Sloan put on an innocent expression. “What do you mean?”
“I’m well aware that you think I’m mooning after that loony movie scout. Three months without her being around ought to have convinced you that I’m not suffering any heartbreak.”
“Yeah, right,” Sloan mumbled into his coffee mug. “You’re like a stallion that’s been gelded. Sore and confused.”
Cody shook his head. “Not true. If I’m sore, it’s from getting my steers down to the State Fair for auction.”
Sloan sighed. “Well, if I can’t talk you into double-dating, and I can’t talk you into getting off that ranch of yours, you better get out of my office and let me do some work.”
Cody didn’t move. Sloan reached over and socked his arm. “There’s the door.”
“I know where the door is,” he muttered. “I’m just taking my time getting there.”
“You’ve got no energy since that woman left, Cody. We sure did enjoy watching her torture you. But now,” he shook his head at him, “you’re kind of boring.”
“Thanks, friend. I’m out of here.”
Cody left, highly disgruntled. He tried hard not to think about Stormy, but with small planes coming and going as they dropped off equipment and a movie star or two, and the occasional stretch limo that pulled through Desperado, it was impossible not to think of her. All this was her fault. She’d brought this disarray into his town, and damn near up to his door. She’d made mush out of his brain.
Damn, but he was glad she was gone. It was nice not being angry, or horny. Angry and horny. Always at the high end of the emotional spectrum with her. Shoot. He hadn’t been energized with her in his life—he’d been full of adrenaline. With fall in the air and the recent touches of winter’s crispness, it was time to think about slowing down and getting ready for the long gray months ahead.
Yawning, he slid onto Curvy’s and Pick’s bench, glancing around. They weren’t anywhere to be seen, which was probably a good thing. Lately, they’d found a new haunt down at the movie set, a place he had completely avoided. His land might be momentarily full of stars and costumes, but he wasn’t going to be drawn into what had everyone’s attention around here.
The shops along the creek had changed, putting their focus on quaintness that might draw the eye of big city folk searching for that kind
of nostalgia. Annie’s restaurant was progressing, as was the size of her belly. She’d mentioned that her morning sickness had passed and that was a good thing. Briefly, he wondered if he could stand being made an uncle again. Mary had darn near given him coronary distress.
Of course, Stormy seemed to have straightened out Mary’s confusion. Somehow, the movie scout had pulled strings to get Mary a very small part, one that didn’t include guts and gore. Grudgingly, he admitted that Stormy’s choice was very appropriate for his niece. And she didn’t have to cut one inch off that wonderful black hair of hers that he adored.
That didn’t make him feel a whole lot better, though. That peculiar woman had never once called him. Not once! He should have at least rated a call from the lady, a pretension that she liked him enough to give him her phone number, and that he would want it. He didn’t, and would never call her back, of course. But she could have called, damn it. Especially after sneaking out like a thief in the night. No goodbye, no nothing. And she’d taken the snake teeth off his dresser. No matter that there were five other sets laying right next it—she’d thought he wouldn’t notice. He had. It was a helluva souvenir to take home—most women would want a picture to remember a man by—but then, he’d never come close to figuring Stormy out.
He sighed and got to his feet. Maybe he’d mosey on home and see what Ma was up to.
Maybe Stormy had called while he was out, to mention that she had his teeth.
He drove home slowly, parking in the drive. On the porch were several suitcases, his mother’s old ones. Puzzled, Cody got out to see what she was up to.
“Ma?” he yelled inside the house.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, bustling out of the kitchen. She had on her best Sunday dress and comfortable shoes. “I need you to drop me off at the bus station.”
“What for?”
“I am going to stay with my sister for a while.” She eyed him sorrowfully. “I might move out that way with her.”
“Why?” he demanded incredulously.
She gave him a sorrowful gaze. “It is like a funeral around here, Cody. It’s depressing. I am not going to spend the last years of my life under a black cloud.”
He lowered his brows at her. “This isn’t going to work, Ma.”
“What isn’t?” She reached to grasp the handle of a suitcase and headed toward the truck.
“Pretending you’re going off because I’m in a bad mood. I know you liked Stormy, and Sloan liked her, and everybody did, but she wasn’t the woman for me.”
“It does not make any difference to me.” She tossed the suitcases into the truck bed. “Get the rest of them, son,” she called, getting inside.
“Jeez.” He got the rest of her luggage and loaded them up, then got into the truck with her. “Don’t do this, Ma.”
“I have to. I’m an old woman. I am going to die living with you.” She had her hands clutched around the handle of a white wicker purse he would swear she’d never before used. Church dress and fancy purse. Cody frowned. All this for a simple ride on a bus.
“You haven’t died yet, and we’ve lived together since Pa died.”
“Yes. And I liked it. But you’re grumpy, and moody, and I can’t stand it. I know you work hard, but it is difficult looking at your sour face every night.”
“Sour face!” If that didn’t beat all. “You… Don’t go like this.”
“It’s time you were on your own, anyway. It is not right for a bachelor to live with his madre forever. The local women worry that I’ll breathe fire on them if they come around my boy.”
“I hope you do,” he muttered. “Ma, I know this is about Stormy. But she just wasn’t the right one.”
“It is not about Stormy. It is about you. You cannot forget about her, and you are as much fun as a squirt of lemon in the eye. Start the truck. I am going.”
Cody mashed his lips together and nodded jerkily. “If that’s what you want.” He started the truck.
“I said I did.” She looked resolutely forward.
He let her off at the bus station, making sure she had enough money on her. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can turn around and take you home right now.”
“Quit pecking at me, son. I’m still in my right mind, ya know. Don’t fiddle at me like I cannot take care of myself.” She gave him a fast, dry kiss on the cheek. “It is time I saw something outside of my own backyard anyway.”
And then she was gone, hurrying onto a bus in her flower-printed dress and white wicker purse. Cody sighed as the bus rolled off. Getting back into his truck, he went home. The house was dark. Ma had left something on the stove for him, but he didn’t feel like eating. Throwing himself into a chair, Cody slumped his face into his hand. He had never felt so tired, so run-down.
So lonely.
“Ain’t nobody seen Cody in a week or better,” Pick said in a stage whisper to Curvy. “A few folks have heard him playing his guitar, though, and decided to stay the hell off his property. Danged Spanish music’s got everybody looking around for ghosts.”
Curvy scratched his head. “It’s just him out there now. Guess he’s lonely. He doesn’t have as much to keep him busy as we do.”
“Reckon we ought to pay him a visit?”
Curvy stared at him. “I’d like to stay in one piece a while longer, thanks.”
“Aw, he wouldn’t do more than bark at us. He’s done that plenty of times.”
“What the heck would we say to him?”
Pick shook his head, stumped.
Curvy glanced toward the movie set where Mary was rehearsing her part. “We could tell him that Mary wants him to watch her do her stuff.”
Pick brightened. “That’s a thought. Hey! We could call him and tell him that! Safer that way.”
Curvy nodded. “I think so. He’s still a little angry that we told him Mary had left on a bus.”
“We thought she had! We were trying to be helpful.” Pick felt crushed just looking back on that incident.
“Got a quarter?”
Pick checked his pockets. “Nope.”
They were silent for a few minutes.
“Well, heck. I didn’t really want to call him anyway.” Curvy glanced around. “If he’s run his ma off, he sure isn’t going to take it easy on us.”
Pick squinted into the sun, gauging to see when it might go down. “You know, Cody oughta just call her.”
They had no need to mention who.
Curvy shook his head. “He won’t.”
Pick sat up straight. “We could do it. Kind of make up for the little bus problem we had.”
That earned him a probing stare from his friend. “And say what? That Cody wants her to come back? That he’s roaming around on his land like a living phantom and folks won’t go near him? Oh, boy, that’ll bring her running.”
“We could tell her Cody’s sick. Maybe even terminal,” Pick said dramatically, warming to his subject.
“No, friend. We made ourselves a New Year’s resolution that we were going to cease meddling.”
“Yeah, but that was in preparation for next year’s New Year. We’ve got more’n two months to go,” Pick reminded him.
“I don’t know.” Curvy rubbed his stubbled chin doubtfully. “This time, he might have Sloan lock us up in his jail or something worse.”
“Look at it this way.” Pick rubbed his hands and leaned close. “We make an anonymous call. We tell Stormy that Cody has wasted away to a bone for missing her—”
“Nope.” Curvy interrupted him, waving his hands. “I’m not messing in anyone’s love interests.”
“All right.” Pick sat back, defeated. Almost immune to the sight now, he watched a black limo pull in front of the wooden kegs they were perched on. A leggy redhead got out. Pick focused on her legs, almost falling off his chair when he realized who it was. “Did you see that?” he demanded excitedly.
“See what?” Curvy swiveled his neck, craning from side to side.
�
�See that woman! The one in the minidress! I almost missed who it was because of the dress! Stormy Nixon’s come to town, and she’s wearing a dress!”
“If that don’t beat all,” Curvy mused. “Are you sure? I never saw one on her before.”
“Me, neither. And this one was short enough to get the hairs up on the back of Cody’s neck.” Pick clapped his hands gleefully. “We don’t have to call. No doubt they’ve already made plans. See, everything always works out. We’ll just sit back and watch the fireworks.”
Curvy slapped his buddy on the back. “Good eye, old friend. It’s bound to wake up around here now.”
“Yep. If she can’t bring Cody outta his lair, nothing will.” Pick grinned broadly. He hadn’t gotten a good look at Stormy, but what he’d had was good. She was tinier and prettier than ever. Feminine. Delicate.
Just right to brand a mean-eyed and foul-tempered rancher who needed taming.
Mary ran to hug Stormy. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m only in for the day. I’m supposed to deliver some papers, and look over some extras.” Stormy’s eyes drank in the thin, dark-haired girl. “You look wonderful. How’s the part?”
“I’m having a blast,” Mary said happily. “Everything’s changed since you came, Stormy. I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Just for today,” she reminded her. “You get back to rehearsal,” she said with a guilty look toward the director. “I’ve got to do some things.” She gave her a last hug and headed toward a makeshift office.
If time had healed Mary, Stormy could be grateful for her time in Desperado. The teenager seemed like a new person. Stormy’s heart lifted in gratitude. She couldn’t take any credit for the transition, but it certainly was nice.
Now to get on to the job at hand. Jonathan had sent her by special plane to spot-check a few things, and then she was off again. This was their agreement. She hadn’t wanted to come; he’d claimed he could trust no one but her. She didn’t want to be here any longer than possible. Certainly not long enough to run into Cody.