He smiled at me. "For a few weeks. I thought I might audition. But then I saw some of the shooters on the past seasons of the show so I gave up on that." He gave a sad shrug then and I felt bad for him.
"But you, Lauren. You are something else with a gun. You have a more interesting back story than I do and you are much more easy on the eyes. I think you'd have a chance."
I was so touched by my brother. Arnold was sweet when he wanted to be, but never had he made a gesture like this.
"But why, Arnold? I'm okay with this life. I don't need to go on TV for a change."
Actually, that was a lie. I wanted to paint more. I didn't want to have to do it in secret. I wanted a bigger house where I could have a studio. Being able to buy a house where I could do what I wanted would be wonderful.
"Why not, Lauren? Take a chance. I don't think you'll be sorry you did."
He had me there. I didn't want to make choices that I would regret later on. It was time to take a chance. I nodded and smiled at him.
"Alright. I'll audition. But nothing tacky though," I admonished.
I don't think that Arnold heard anything after my 'Alright'. He was hooting and carrying on for a few seconds before he began to talk about his plans for filming me the next night. I just laughed at him and hit the gas on the ATV, headed for home.
Chapter 4
After services the next morning, we came home and I prepared brunch for myself, pa, Arnold, Tim and Laura. I opened my mouth and looked at Arnold from my seat on the table.
"Pa, last night Arnold and I went shooting -"
I watched as Arnold's eyes widened and he shook his head.
"...and Lauren kicked butt as usual," he finished for me.
Why was he keeping the gun show and my audition a secret? I opened my mouth to ask him that, but he shook his head, forcing me to silence. Confused, I looked towards my dad who was shoveling some home fries into his mouth.
"No surprise there. Lauren's always been an excellent shot. Better than you two," he said after drinking some orange juice.
Surprised at the praise, I gave my dad a half smile. He just grunted before turning to Tim and asking him about how his house projects were going. Tim smiled and began to talk about hardwood flooring or something, so I ignored him. Looking at Arnold, I mouthed the words, 'we have to talk.'
He gave me a short nod in response and said nothing. Just then, I heard Tim mention my name.
"...one of the houses Laura has in mind for Lauren is just down the road from our house, pa."
What? Turning to Laura, I said just that. She blushed and drank some juice before speaking to me.
"Now don't get all upset, Lauren. We can see it in addition to the houses we were going to see this afternoon. The house is brand new construction and it's in your rental price range."
I watched as my dad's form stiffened then relaxed.
"I still don't see why you have to leave home, Lauren. But if you insist on leaving us, maybe it's a good idea to live close to your brother."
No way. No way in hell was I going to be bullied into where I was going to live after I left the ranch. Before I could launch an argument, Laura spoke again.
"I know what your reservations probably are, Lauren. But this place is brand-new construction which means that you will have less problems with the structure and the utility bills will be cheaper. I'm only asking that you look at it."
Damned logic. Laura was a traitor, I decided. I was about to politely decline when Tim spoke.
"Is that the place that backs up to the pond and all of those trees?"
Trees? Pond? Nature? The painter in me told the rebellious part of me to shut up.
"It is," Laura replied. "It looks just like a picture out there," she said with a smile as she turned to me.
Good thing I didn't protest. Still, I put on an act.
"I'd like to see what else is out there, Laura. But I guess it won't kill me to look at that house too."
That afternoon, we drove my truck out to the three properties in question. The first house was about ten miles away from the ranch and sat on an acre of land. It was about a thousand square feet in size and had a nice porch on it. I was liking it until I heard the sound of a train coming by just behind the house. I turned to the home owner and smiled.
"I've seen enough, Mr. Sims. I'll call you this evening with more information."
The second house was in a small neighborhood which I didn't mind. It appeared to be a neighborhood full of young families as I saw a small playground filled with kids and parents. There were also lots of trees which was really nice. The house itself wasn't bad at all, but the backyard was pretty small. I stepped outside with painter's eye anyway, trying to see if there was anything there to inspire me. Before I could focus in on the flowering tree by the fence, I saw a woman walking in the grass next door and watched her. She had her long blonde hair gathered into a loose ponytail that went down one shoulders, and a crying baby on her other shoulder. She then turned to me and smiled and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. She looked just like my ma.
She approached my fence and waved me over. After introducing herself, she introduced the beautiful baby girl with big brown eyes sitting on her shoulder.
"...and this is Sarah. She is six months old and is teething already which is why she is so fussy. How about you? Do you have a family of your own?"
I gave her a small smile and shook my head. "No. It's just me."
She gave me a knowing smile before indicating the house on the other side of me.
"There lives Lisa and her husband Jasper. They have two little ones and have another on the way. It seems like one of us is always pregnant on this street," she said with a laugh.
Ten minutes later, we drove away from the home. Laura smiled at me from her spot on the passenger side.
"House hunt not going the way you thought it might?"
I sighed in response. Her question was spot on, though. I had thought that finding a place away from Arnold and Pa would be easier. Before I could answer, she spoke again.
"The first house had the train which was why you didn't like it, right?"
I nodded as I replied. "Yep."
"What was wrong with this last one? The house seemed to be pretty nice. So did the people living around it."
I thought about how to answer that question before opening my mouth.
"It's a good place, but it's not for me - not yet."
Laura nodded at that. "I understand. You are a single girl who is not ready to settle down."
I laughed. "True and kind of untrue."
"How so?" She asked with a smile.
"I am single, but I would like to meet a good guy I could get serious with."
Laura laughed at that. "Do you want to go back to the ranch and shoot your brothers some more?"
I laughed out loud in response. "While that might improve my day, I think not. Plus, we have one more house to see - right?"
"Yes Ma'am."
Ten minutes later, we were there. It had a garage. It had a cute porch. I hated it because I knew that I would like it. On the inside, I hated that I loved it even more. There were large windows throughout the house that bathed all of the surfaces in light. The two bedrooms and baths were large too. The kitchen was open to the dining room and living room which I loved. There was a small, screened in porch on the back of the house that was just divine. Laura and I went outside through the exit there which was when she pointed out the trees and pond. They were beautiful. I could have sat down with my easel just then and gotten lost in my paints, canvas and the vista before me.
Laura interrupted my reverie just then. "So you like it?" I looked at her smiling face and sighed.
"I do. But it is so darned close to you and Tim's house, Laura."
I didn't have the heart to lie to her. I was sure that all of my emotions were written on my face.
"That ain't all bad, is it?" she asked.
"No," I said as I shook my head. "I would
love to live close to you. Your husband is the one that would present the problem."
Laura cringed at that. "He does it out of love, Lauren."
"I know. But I'm a grown woman. I don't need to be protected anymore."
Lauren turned from me and faced the pond. "I'm not going to argue that at all. Just consider it, though. This place won't sit vacant long."
"I will," I firmly replied.
I took the few extra seconds in the backyard to commit the blue of the pond to memory.
That evening, Arnold and I headed for the shooting area where I showed off my shooting skills with guns, rifles and shotguns. I was impressed with how Arnold was managing the filming part of the whole thing. He had brought his laptop along with his camera - frequently transferring stuff from the camera to the laptop for editing. Again and again, he had me repeat certain "scenes." He complained about the lighting and the wind and the sound. He made me do everything off of a script he wrote and then said it sucked. He then made me do it all over again, telling me to act 'natural.'
"'Natural' took a hike about two hours ago, Arnold! Don't we have the right footage already?"
"No! We don't," he exclaimed, sounding like such a dictator. "Change into the other plaid shirt we brought - the blue one and let your hair down this time."
I had no idea what had gotten into him, but I had had about enough of his direction.
"No! I can't risk missing my shot with this wind! I need my hair in a ponytail!"
"This isn't for shooting again! This is for you describing what it is you do for a living! This is for you describing why you want this so badly," he nearly yelled at me.
"I'm not the one that wants this so badly! You are!" I yelled at him.
Arnold took a deep breath then and set his camera down on the small table he'd erected near the shack that housed the generator. He then ran his hands through his short blond hair while he released his breath. What was going on with him, I wondered. Before I could voice my question, he spoke.
"This is what I do, Laura. I have to get this right," he said with a passion in his tone that surprised me.
I stared at his green eyes in shock. "What are you talking about, Arnold?"
He then pointed to the camera, to his laptop and then to myself.
"This is what I do. I take lots of pictures. I make little documentaries. This is what keeps me sane out here."
I could have been knocked over by a feather. My brother was a secret artist - just like me.
"What?" I said, for loss of a better word.
Blushing he shrugged.
"That's why I needed you to shut up about all this during brunch today. Dad can't know about this. He'd laugh at me. He'd mock me. He'd make me sell my equipment."
"Oh, my God," I replied after a full thirty seconds of silence.
"Do you think it's stupid?" He carefully asked me.
I smiled at him and got on my ATV. "Come on. We need to take a little detour."
Panicked, he climbed on his own ATV. "We aren't going to tell dad, are we?"
"No. Your secret is safe with me," I said before gunning it and heading back to the house.
Thankfully, dad was out of the house with the dogs somewhere.
"Come on in," I told my brother as I opened my bedroom door.
"What are we doing in here? You never let us come in here."
"You are about to find out why," I said to him.
I pointed at the bed and ordered him to sit down which he quickly did.
"I've never shown this to anyone before," I said to Arnold as I opened my closet door.
His eyes widened in shock.
"Please tell me you aren't going to pull out a blow up doll out of there," he said with wide green eyes.
My mouth dropped open in shock and I pelted him with the first thing I could grab off my dresser - my talc bottle. The powder covered his shirt and my bed in floral scented white dust.
"Lauren!" he yelled at me as he stood up and shook his plaid shirt, trying to get the talc off of him.
"Oh, it's only powder. Relax. You are only running the chance of smelling slightly better than you do now. Sit down!" I ordered him.
With a scowl, he did as he was told. I bent down into the closet and opened the smaller, hidden door that I'd installed three years ago. I knew that I was making funny faces as I hunched over and grabbed my easel. I smiled as I watched Arnold's expression go from one of confusion to one of understanding.
"What - ", he asked.
I shushed him and smiled. Carefully, I reached for the painting I had finished just the other morning and set it on the easel.
I knew that I was blushing, but I spoke anyway. "This is my secret. I am an artist too. I paint." I don't know why I was whispering, because it was just he and I in the house, but I did so anyway. "I started doing this in high school."
Arnold was just staring at my painting with an expression of wonder on his face. I continued.
"When momma died, I started painting in earnest." Leaning over back into the closet, I pulled out five more paintings, one at a time. I kept speaking as I lowered them, one by one onto the ground. "I love painting. When I paint, I am at peace. I'm not shooting hogs and killing them. I'm not worrying about our business. I'm not lonely because I don't have a man. I'm not tired of taking care of the house because all I see is this. My paintings. My subjects just begging to be committed to canvas forever. This is why I have to go and move out. I don't want to have to hide my art anymore."
I then turned back to Arnold who was staring at my paintings with tears in his eyes.
"They are so good, Lauren. So damned good."
I smiled at him, beaming in pride over his praise. Just then, I heard a chiming noise coming from something in his lap. Surprised, I looked down and saw that he was holding his camera.
"Wait a minute. Did you just film that?" I asked, angry.
He cringed. "I did."
"Why would you do that? I showed you this in confidence, you asshole!"
I found my talc bottom on the floor and hurled it at him again. He didn't even notice it.
"Because this is perfect, Lauren. This is that final thing we need for audition film. This shows that you more than just a pretty face who can shoot a gun. You are a secret artist."
"And you are just a plotting filmmaker!" I yelled at him.
He stood up and grabbed one of my paintings off of the floor and put it back on the easel.
"No. I'm blown away by your art, Lauren. I swear. This one is my favorite."
I stared at him, still skeptical.
"Why? Why is this one your favorite?"
He shrugged and self-consciously scratched the back of his head and neck. He took a second and then pointed at it.
"Because... It's boots. It's just a pair of boots on the floor. But it's more than that, you know?"
I went from staring at him to my painting.
"How so?"
"Well, the paint colors. It shows you that they are work boots. The smears of mud and blood are evidence of their use. But the colors are so pretty. The red of the blood flakes. The white and yellow of the dust motes in the band of light shining through the window - you caught that so good."
At those words, I forgave him. I reminded myself that he was a photographer. Of course he would know about colors and lighting. He also knew about secrets and passions.
"You won't tell, then?"
He looked at me like I was crazy. "Of course not. But you have to let me use the footage I just took for the audition video."
I sighed. "Fine. Use it. Don't let anyone else see it though."
He wasn't looking at me though, he was just staring at my painting. Suddenly, I was inspired. I took the painting off of the easel and handed it to Arnold.
"Here. For you."
Arnold took it from me and swallowed a few times.
"You are giving this to me?"
I smiled. "Yeah. You like it so much. Plus, you are the first person I've sho
wn my art to."
Arnold blinked a few times. "Your paint fumes are crazy strong in here. No wonder why you don't let anyone come in here."
That was funny; I couldn't smell the fumes at all. I was touched as Arnold cradled the painting in his arms. He then looked at me with watery eyes and spoke.
"I think I have enough footage for the audition video. I'll head on out to the range to get my stuff."
I nodded at that. "Okay. If you are sure."
"I am. Thank you," he added in a thick voice.
After that, he turned around and left my room, closing the door behind him. I smiled as I sat on my bed and stared at my easel. Who would have known that my stupid brother was an artist too? I sighed in happiness and lay on my bed. I felt...lightened. It felt good to share my secret. It felt even better to take on another one in return.
Chapter 5
The next night we were on a job at a ranch about a half an hour away from our own. It was me, Pa, Arnold, Tim and my friend Mara. After walking through the property earlier in the day, Pa had decided that the owner had at least six large hogs on her property. Mara, Arnold and I had broken off into one team with three dogs while Pa and Tim broke off into the other team.
We'd been walking the grounds for twenty minutes or so when Mara and Arnold finally got to talking. They were walking ahead of me following two dogs while I had one of the dogs walking next to me. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could see the signs nonetheless. They were flirting - seriously flirting. Mara laughed a lot and put her hand on Arnold's arm whenever she could. Arnold walked a little straighter and but happily looked down at her whenever he spoke to her. I also noticed that his normally long strides had gotten shorter so that she could keep up with him. I was almost jealous, but didn't have the heart to do anything about it. I loved Mara and I loved Arnold. I would be the first one to cheer if they actually built something up between each other that could last.
I don't know when I lost track of Arnold and Mara, but that I did. It must have been when their giggles and touches went too loud and too lingering. I think that I deliberately hung back then. Poocher, the mutt I had with me suddenly went stiff before running into the bushes to the left of me.
Nice Shootin' Tex Page 3