Nice Shootin' Tex

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Nice Shootin' Tex Page 5

by Cyndia Rios-Myers


  "Uh-uh. This is where I draw the line. I will not act like a go-between for you two. I will be your best friend and I will be his sister. I am not adding to those job descriptions."

  I felt guilty as I watched her deflate.

  "I understand. It's just so scary, you know?"

  I went back to the potatoes I'd been chopping up for the stew. As I listened to her talk about her nerves, I thought about house number two. The happy housewife. Sure, I hadn't seen her husband or what they were like together, but the look of peace she had on her face spoke for itself. After throwing the potatoes and onion in the stock pot, I looked at Mara.

  "Alright. Here is the only advice I am going to give you about you & Arnold."

  I watched as her eyes shine and she sat a bit straighter on her stool, like an apt pupil.

  "Take it slow."

  She nodded eagerly at that.

  "I can do that. Heck - I've had a crush on him for the past eight years," she said with a laugh.

  "That and...go for it," I added.

  That surprised her.

  "Really?"

  I nodded at her. "Really. I'm talking to you as your best friend now." I gave myself a few seconds before continuing. "Whenever I see a happy couple or a small family, it hurts me inside of my chest."

  She smiled at me and then blinked a few times.

  "Makes you feel kinda empty inside?" She gently replied.

  I nodded. "You understand?"

  "I do."

  I watched her as she grabbed a napkin off the table and dabbed her eyes.

  "So you should go for it. Don't be alone if you don't have to be."

  She smiled at me again.

  "Thank you for talking to me about this."

  "Thank you for bringing it up," I replied with a smile.

  She laughed and everything was good between us.

  "Now. Enough boy talk. Are you going to help me bake this bread?"

  She happily jumped off her stool and walked to the sink to wash her hands.

  "Yes, Ma'am."

  I was happy to have my best friend back even though I didn't know how long I'd be able to keep her for myself.

  In the days that followed, Mara was true to her word. I was glad to see that she was dealing with Arnold at an arm's distance. She smiled with him and laughed with him, but spent little to almost no time alone with him. Arnold and I were messing around on the computers in the office when he brought it up.

  "So what's up with Mara?"

  Thankfully, I'd been looking at the computer monitor when he spoke.

  "Whatever do you mean?"

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he scratched the back of his head - something he did when he was confused.

  "She's...distant. I don't know."

  I took a deep breath and exhaled out of my nose. Closing the spreadsheet I'd been working on, I turned around in my office chair to face him.

  "I'm not doing this."

  "Doing what? Not answering questions? Congratulations. Mission accomplished."

  I rolled my eyes before replying.

  "I am not being the go-between with you and Mara. If you have questions, ask her."

  Arnold gave me a 'pity-me' sort of look that indicated that I was putting him out. I caved.

  "Didn't you want to take things slow, anyway?"

  "I did, but not this slow. I don't even know if she's into me anymore."

  Jiminy Christmas. It looked like the slow-courtship thing for these two was just not going to pan out. Trying to put everyone out of their misery, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called Mara.

  "What are you doing? Who are you calling?" He asked me in a panic.

  I ignored him.

  "Hey Mara."

  "Hey you, what are you up to?"

  "Do you still like my brother?"

  "Of course I do," she said in a heartfelt voice.

  I nodded. "Good. Can you tell him that?"

  I then shoved the phone into my brother's hands and walked out of the office. Maybe they'd be annoyed with me. I didn't care though; I wanted nothing to do with their love lives.

  Out of boredom, I went to the gun safe outside of the barn and grabbed a Remington 597 rifle. After grabbing some ammo and locking up the safe. I got on the ATV and headed to the gun range. Once there, I placed the magazine inside of the rifle and leaned onto the haystacks that would permit me to shoot as accurately as possible. I then looked into the scope and sized up my target. After that, I released the safety mechanism. I took my time examining my target before gently squeezing the trigger. The rifle made a loud bam sound that satisfied me. Looking at the target, I saw that I had hit the bull’s eye. Happily, I emptied the rest of the magazine's ammo onto the target, making a very tight cluster.

  Once the magazine was empty and silence reigned again, my feeling of satisfaction and achievement disappeared.

  "I don't want to be alone anymore," I said to nothing in particular.

  Quietly, I picked up the shells around the firing range before heading home for the evening.

  Chapter 7

  Arnold cooked dinner that evening which was a nice break for me; steaks on the grill along with some corn on the cob and baked potatoes. To help out, I put together some salad for all of us.

  I was surprised to find Tim and Laura pull into our driveway. Even Mara showed up in her little truck. Looking at dad, I asked him if something was going on.

  "Not that I know of."

  He went back to reading his magazine on the recliner. Shrugging it off, I set the table for an additional three place settings. Halfway into my steak, Arnold spoke from his side of the table.

  "Well, you are probably all wonderin' why I asked you all here."

  Arnold had good news? That surprised me. I looked at Mara from where she sat next to Arnold. I raised my eyebrows at her in question, trying to see if she knew anything, but all she gave me was a little shrug. Then Arnold looked at me and smile.

  "I've got great news. Our little Lauren will be a contestant in Season Two of American Sharpshooter!"

  I felt my mouth drop open and my eyes widen in shock. I felt blood leave my face and my hands get cold. I was in shock. But that didn't compare to the surprised expression on my dad's face as he stared at Arnold.

  "American Sharpshooter? What in the heck is that?"

  "What's he talking about?" said Tim as he turned and faced me from my left.

  I opened my mouth and closed it a couple of times before turning to face Arnold again.

  "Really? Seriously? Don't you think that you should have maybe told me before you told anyone else?"

  My dad turned from facing Arnold to facing me.

  "Oh. So you do know what he's talking about. What in the hell is this American Sharpshooter business about?"

  Before I could speak, Arnold spoke.

  "It's a reality show on the Outdoors Channel. Lauren will compete -"

  "A REALITY show?! Over my dead body, Lauren Elizabeth McCoy! What in the hell are you thinking? What are you trying to do to yourself? What are you trying to do to our family?" he bellowed from his spot at the head of the table.

  Not knowing who to react or to speak to first, I settled on Arnold.

  "Jackass! There could have been a better way to handle this!"

  Arnold shrugged.

  "I'm sorry. I thought this was good news. I thought everyone would be happy for you."

  He meant well, so I lost some of my anger towards him. Looking at everyone, I spoke to my dad first as he looked like he was about to spew steam from his ears.

  "Dad, it is not a tacky reality show like on music video channels. It is a TV show where shooters from all around the country go to compete using their shooting skills."

  My dad still looked flummoxed, so I let him recover his breath so that he could get a question in.

  "But...why? Why would you do such a thing?"

  "It was my idea, Pa," said a smiling Arnold.

  "Why in t
he hell would you get your sister involved in something like that? Why didn't anyone check and see if I thought this was okay?"

  I felt my protective feelings towards my dad give way to bristling ones.

  "Pa, I don't have to check with anyone to do this. I am a grown woman."

  Silence encompassed out table after that statement. Laura stayed busy looking at her baked potato while Tim stared at me with widened eyes. Mara watched Arnold while Arnold stared at dad. My dad stared daggers at me.

  "Excuse me?" my dad asked in a deep rumbling voice.

  "You heard me. I don't have to ask anyone's permission to go on a shootin' show."

  My dad shook his head before throwing his fork down on his plate with a loud clattering sound.

  "That's just great, Lauren! What would your mother say about you acting a fool on television? What does that say about our family?"

  "You don't even know what the show is about! This will probably be good promotion for the family business, dad!" I yelled at him.

  Arnold raised a finger and faced my dad.

  "Dad, she makes a great point about promoting the family business."

  "I don't give a crap about promoting our family business! And I don't want to hear anything from you, Arnold! You were the one that engineered this nonsense!"

  I shook my head and took a sip out of my beer.

  "What are you shaking your head about over there? You will not be doing this shooting show. I forbid it!"

  I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. After releasing it, I looked straight into my father's eyes and spoke firmly.

  "I don't need your permission, Pa. I'm doing this show."

  Actually, I hadn't decided on doing the show until he forbade it. Now I would go as I had something to prove.

  Things went downhill from there. So much so, that I ended up packing my bags and following Tim and Laura to their home where I would reside until the following week, when I was due to fly out to Washington state, where the show would be filmed.

  Surprisingly, it was Tim who helped me unpack my things in their cute guest room. My dark haired brother helped me hang up my jacket in the closet and even set the clock on the nightstand for me. After I sat on the bed, he leaned on the dresser with his arms across his chest and smiled down at me.

  "Have you ever seen the show?"

  "American Sharpshooter?"

  "Yes."

  I took a deep breath. "I haven't, but Arnold has. I trust him." He nodded at that.

  "Have you seen it?" I asked of him.

  "I have."

  His response was guarded. Swallowing, I spoke again.

  "What do you think of it?"

  He scratched his chin as he moved his feet and settled into another position.

  "Well, to be honest...women don't fare so well in the show, Lauren."

  I blinked a few times. I was nervous. Scared, even.

  "Why?"

  "Well, I think that they are okay shots, but don't handle the pressure so well."

  That was reasonable, I thought. Heck, maybe even some men couldn't handle the pressure. I wonder how I would do on the show, though.

  "If you are wonderin' how you're gonna do, don't worry about it."

  "I am worried, though."

  "Don't be. A lot of the shooters there are recreational shooters and competitors. You are a good shooter because you are a hunter - you hunt for a living." Pointing at my leg, he continued. "That scar and the three hogs you took down are proof of that."

  I sighed in relief at his words.

  "Thank you."

  "I'm only saying the truth here, Lauren."

  He then stood up straight and walked towards the door. Looking back once more, he asked one more thing of me.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  I sighed. "I am. Before, I just wanted to do it. Now that Pa forbade it, I have to do it. He needs to see me as an adult and not his little girl."

  He nodded at that and tapped the wall one time before giving me a big smile.

  "Hey. I'm glad you are staying here with us. Even though you are only here because Pa kicked you out."

  I laughed at that. "I'm happy to be here."

  "Good night, Lauren."

  "G'Night, Timmy."

  He tapped the wall one more time before leaving me for the night.

  I drove in with Tim to the ranch the next morning. While Dad had kicked me out from living on the ranch, he did not dismiss me from my duties. I was grateful for that.

  "Laura cooks some mean French toast," I said to him.

  Tim smiled. "Why do you think I married her?"

  "Because she's a good cook?" I mockingly asked.

  He shrugged. "That's one of the reasons why."

  I smiled as I watched him for a moment, remembering his and Laura's meeting, courtship and marriage. He was five years older than Laura and had never seen her in high school as he had already graduated. One night, Tim and I had been at the country western bar in the next town over when he spotted her. He kept staring at her which made her come over and say hi to me. I then introduced her to Tim and told him that I knew her from high school. They talked for a little bit, danced, and the rest was history. They were married eight months after they met. It was such a sweet wedding. They'd been married for almost a year already.

  "What are you staring at?" He asked me.

  "I'm just thinking that you are going to be a great dad one day."

  He smiled at that which was nice to see.

  "If only..." he replied.

  My head tilted in question.

  "If only what?"

  He nervously tapped his hands on the steering wheel before replying. He then gave me a quick look before looking back at the road before us.

  "Laura and I are having trouble...conceiving."

  "Really? Have you been trying long?"

  He sighed. "We have."

  Not knowing what to say, I said nothing.

  "You won't tell, right?"

  "Of course not," I gently replied.

  After a minute, I asked how Laura was handling it.

  "Not very well. As a matter of fact, she came home upset after the two of you went looking at rentals the other day."

  That made me furrow my brow. "Really? Why?"

  Tim scratched his beard the same way that Arnold did before answering the question.

  "Something about a woman with a baby. It really hit her hard."

  That surprised me. I hadn't seen Laura's reaction at all when we saw the woman and the baby. I know I reacted; maybe Laura didn't notice my reaction either.

  "Women our age start feeling the need to...build something. When that's hard to do, it's easy to get frustrated."

  Tim looked from the road to me, and then back at the road.

  "Women your age? As in you? Do you want to settle down?" he asked in a very intrusive and surprised tone.

  I rolled my eyes and blushed a bit, feeling defensive.

  "Uh...yes! Did you forget me shooting at your feet a couple of weeks ago?"

  He laughed at that for a second before fake wincing.

  "Yes. I do recall that, Lauren."

  I said nothing for a few seconds as I tried to get a hold of my lingering anger over my Arnold and Tim's stupid interventions into my love life.

  "Have you guys gone to see someone about...fertility problems?"

  He sighed.

  "No. Not yet. But we might do that soon."

  We didn't say anything for a few minutes. I didn't mind. I watched the sun rise over the highway as we headed to the ranch while I tried to memorize the yellows and oranges for future use. Tim spoke again as soon as his truck tires hit the dirt road that led to our ranch.

  "The woman...at the second place you looked at. What did she look like?"

  It was a curious question, so I looked at him.

  "Why do you ask?"

  He shrugged. I wondered if Laura might have mentioned that she looked like Momma.

&nb
sp; "She looked like Momma, when she was younger. Her baby had dark hair."

  Tim, my dark-haired brother, took a deep breath and held it before nodding. I understood that no words needed to be said. That was the last we spoke about it.

  Chapter 8

  During the next few days, work with my father was decidedly uncomfortable and awkward. He scarcely spoke to me at all which made me kind of sore. If he had anything to tell me, he would pass the orders through Tim or Arnold. I wondered if he would be able to wish me good look before I left for Washington State in four days.

  We did three nighttime catches that week. I did my rounds with Arnold and Tim, but not with my dad. Tim and I were walking through the Smither ranch one night when I brought it up to Arnold.

  "This is so awkward. Why isn't he talking to me?"

  Tim sighed and shrugged.

  "I know. But you've got to put yourself in his shoes."

  "What? Why? What have I done to him?"

  "You grew up on him, Lauren. That's what you did. One day you tell him that you are leaving home. The next day you tell him that you are going on a reality show and that his opinion does not matter. He's watching his little girl grow up in the space of about two weeks."

  Darnit, I hated that Tim was being so...reasonable. How dare he try to take my righteous anger from me?

  "He couldn't stop this from happening, though. It was bound to happen."

  "I'm not saying that either. I'm just saying that you are going to have to give him some time to...get his bearings."

  We kept walking quickly, but I'd started to feel some tightness in my left calf.

  "Slow down. My stitches itch."

  Tim smiled and slowed down for me. He was such a great big brother that way.

  The next day, I mustered the courage to speak to my dad. I had walked into the office after having eaten a lunch of cold cut sandwiches and chips in the kitchen. My dad only glanced at me for a second before going back to his computer. I leaned on the door jamb, trying to give us some distance.

  "You are running low on food, Pa. You'll probably have to hit the grocery store soon."

  He just grumbled under his breath in response, not even sparing me another glance. Still, I plugged away.

  "There's some frozen lasagna in the freezer if you can't make it to the store. Pasta is pretty easy to throw together too -”

 

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