by Lynn Shurr
“So are you and Joaquin—involved?”
“No, he’s far too flaming for me. Nor do I care for longshoremen or the hairy backsides of linebackers. Think Will as in Will and Grace, the old TV show, someone sophisticated and stylish who can cook a nice meal. I haven’t found that man yet—or perhaps a woman with the same qualities. But, could I be true to her? I’d have to ask myself.”
“Never watched that show.”
“I imagine it would be banned in the McCoy household, but very, very funny if you like gay jokes.”
“What next?”
“Shopping, dear boy. Shopping!”
“Must I? I have plenty of clothes.”
“Howard, you signed for over a million dollars in the draft, yet you still dress like a college kid, all grungy and unkempt.”
“Well, I do my own laundry and sometimes I forget.”
“You forget you can afford to send your laundry out. Gregory will arrange it for you. Once we buy nicer clothes, you must take better care of them.”
“Okay, what kind of clothes? Mostly, I wear jeans when we’re off. I already got a nice suit. My college coach at Oklahoma State made us dress up with a tie and everything when we traveled. The Sinners aren’t nearly so picky.”
“They should be, but Coach Buck doesn’t care as long as you can play football. Wear diamond earrings the size of plum pits in both lobes, so tasteless, he won’t blink an eye.”
“No earrings, no piercings of any kind!”
“Of course not. It wouldn’t fit the image we are building for this Cassie. Maybe a tattoo, though.”
“No!”
“Howdy, you are so easy to tease.”
Brian steered him into a plush department store on Canal Street and directly to menswear. “First, we need to upgrade your underwear. Bet you five you still wear tighty-whities. You wouldn’t want to strip for Cassie and have her find out the hard way.”
“Nothing wrong with a plain pair of men’s briefs. My Grandpa wore them.”
“Exactly.” Brian stopped in front of a display that proclaimed Imagine your Man in These on Valentine’s Day. He eyed a selection of boxers patterned with red hearts and lipstick kisses, then shot out a quick hand that came up dangling a red silk men’s thong.
Howdy couldn’t contain his blush, but he said coolly enough, “Now I know you’re kidding me again. I’d be dead and buried before I wore that.”
Mischief twinkling in his big, dark eyes, Brian said, “Even if Cassie gave this to you for Valentine’s Day and asked you to pose for her?”
In the mirror behind the display, Howdy watched his blush deepening. “Sure, I’d put it on for her once. Next day, I’d make sure my dog ate it.”
“You don’t have a dog.”
“Be worth buying one to get rid of that thing. Put it down and be serious.”
“Very well. Let’s make it black boxer briefs then. What size?”
“Ah, I’m not sure.” His flush about matched the Valentine hearts on the boxers now.
“There, I wasn’t even trying that time. They go by waist size. Who bought your underwear for you?”
“Grandpa. He stocked me up with briefs, undershirts, and tube socks before I left for training camp.”
“Howdy, Howdy, Howdy. Undershirts, really? Although V-neck or sleeveless can be sexy. Since you prefer chest hair on a man, a little fluff showing out of a V-neck might be appealing to some women.”
“I don’t prefer chest hair. It’s just the other way seems mighty unnatural, all that waxing and shaving. ‘If God meant a man to have a bald chest, he would have made us that way,’ Grandpa said. My undershirts are all crewneck and have sleeves. Think we should get some V-necks?”
“Definitely, if you must wear them at all. Moving along to jeans.”
“I got a new pair before I went to visit Joe. Don’t need any more.”
“Sure you do. Though I must say I did like the ones you had on last weekend.”
“I…”
Brian held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You shrunk them in the wash.”
“That is true, but I was going to say I noticed Cassie checking out my ass.”
“Ass, you do surprise me, Howdy. We’ll get a few more pairs of those then, some in black, and wash them in hot water. What designer?”
“Levi’s button fly jeans.”
“No designer then, but button flies can be very erotic. It’s the slow reveal rather than the quick unzip. Fantastic if your lover does it for you.” Brian fanned his face with a hand. “I’m nearly as flushed as you at the thought.”
They found the folded piles of jeans and loaded Howdy’s arms with them. Brian added a stack of crisp shirts in shades of gray and green. His hand hovered over a display of spring pinks and lavenders.
“No!” Howdy said.
“Got you again. Pastels really aren’t for you. I on the other hand look stunning in pink. Look over there. I cannot believe they have blue chambray shirts. That’s so cowboy chic. We’ll need a dozen of those. I might get some for myself.” Brian cleaned out the all the pale blue shirts in Howdy’s size and added a couple in his own to their heap.
“Are we finished here?”
“A jacket. You need a good casual jacket even if you won’t wear it much after the weather gets hot in April. Something that shouts HOWDY McCOY in capital letters. Leather! Definitely leather, but not black leather. That’s more Joe Dean’s style.”
“Isn’t my team jacket good enough?”
“It’s redundant. This Cassie knows you kick for the Sinners. Now if you did troll the bars for women, it would work. But, you don’t. I got it—buckskin, like Robert Redford in Midnight Cowboy.”
“Why does that movie keep coming up? Never seen it, don’t want to.”
“The main character goes to New York to become a stud, to service rich women. You want Cassie to notice how studly you are, right?”
“I want her to like me.”
“Okay, same thing, sort of.”
“Did Redford’s jacket have fringe?”
“Oh, yes.”
“No fringe.”
“Don’t be difficult. I can see you now at Joe’s ranch wearing that cowboy hat and boots you wore your first day at camp and your new duds. Whatever became of the hat, the boots? You should definitely wear the white hat and pointy boots.”
Howdy stared at the mound of clothes he held. “People in New Orleans gawked at me and laughed when I passed by so I shelved them. In Oklahoma, they were normal. I was normal. And my hat is gray and my boots aren’t that pointy. Besides, I thought you told me not to wear a hat.”
“Just for today so as not to offend Joaquin by covering his work. Get the cowboy hat and boots out of storage, but no more grubby green John Deere caps or stinking sneakers. Maybe a black Sinners cap if you must.” Brian made a viewfinder with his fingers. “I can see it all now. You stand with one foot up on a fence rail. You are staring at cows or horses or buffalo. Cassie comes up behind you. You hear her approach. You turn and say…”
“Howdy, ma’am?”
“Yes, you would. Might work if she likes lingo.”
“I’m not so sure she does. I think her ex was a bull rider from what Joe Dean said. Hard to compete with that.”
“Come on, you’re a Sinner. Act like one.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good. Get out your credit card and pay for our haul, then it’s on to leather goods.” Brian checked his stainless steel Rolex watch. “We have exactly enough time if we don’t dawdle. We mustn’t be late for our appointment with Guido, my tailor. A half-dozen custom-made suits should complete your wardrobe. Or maybe you still need some chinos and Italian loafers.”
“No loafers.”
“Joe wears them.”
“Remember, I don’t want to be Joe. I want to be HOWARD McCOY in capital letters.”
“Right. Gotcha. Oxfords and new athletic shoes, it is.”
SEVEN
Nell, hopped u
p on the hormones and drugs needed to convince her sterile body to build a nice cushy placenta for the embryos, hugged and kissed each one of her existing children ferociously. Tears dribbled down her cheeks.
“Come on Tink, we’ll only be gone a month. They’re old enough to know we’ll be back. They can call us anytime. Right, guys?” Joe addressed both his sons and his daughters all lined up on the lower verandah to say good-bye.
MawMaw Nadine pried Nell’s fingers from Annie’s shoulders. “You doing the right thing, cher. When your mama comes home, she’s gonna bring some babies with her,” she informed her grandchildren.
“Bring girls,” Jude demanded.
“Boys!” Dean countered. Those two always went at it.
“Maybe she brings some of bot’,” Nadine said. “Only God knows what you gonna get.”
“Don’t be disappointed if I don’t bring any at all,” Nell cautioned.
“Then can we have a puppy instead?” Tommy asked as he had often since failing to get one for Christmas.
“Go on now. We got the schedule all worked out. Your folks will alternate weeks with us, and Cassie is taking the weekends. Knox and Corazon aren’t even gonna take their days off while you’re gone.” Nadine gestured to the ranch manager and housekeeper standing nearby. “We all set. Shoo!” She waved her hands toward the waiting airport limo.
Nadine followed them to the open door of the vehicle holding their already stowed baggage and leaned over Nell as she slid into the backseat. “This is good for you to get away and make babies. I seen that girl making eyes at Joe like she did at Bijou. She’s trouble, always been trouble.” Nadine cast a backwards glance at Cassie who stood directly behind Tommy with her hands resting on the little boy’s shoulders.
“I know Bijou is your nephew, Nadine, but he is also a dirty old man who took advantage of the naïve teenage girl by convincing her she could have a big career as a barrel-racer if only she’d run away with him. If he’d had his way, Tommy wouldn’t exist. Then, he tried to kidnap his own son to squeeze money out of Joe, so don’t be blaming Cassie—even if you are right about her in some ways.” Nell looked past Nadine, Cassie, and the line of children to where Howdy McCoy rounded the side of the house and stood quietly behind the group.
Joe whispered, “There is the answer to our problem.” He aimed a big wink at the young man, but Cassie intercepted it and returned the same.
“Let’s get out of here before I deck her,” Nell said, teeth gritted.
“That’s the spirit! We be praying for you, all Joe’s sisters, Miss Lolly and Miss Maxine. We are powerful prayers, I tell you me.”
“Thanks, Nadine,” Nell answered with a tad of ungratefulness in her voice.
Her mother-in-law slammed the limo door, and Nell and Joe were off to Phoenix to take their babies out of the freezer. Corazon and Nadine herded the children inside for an early lunch. Knox Polk, who still retained a stiff posture that revealed him as ex-military, headed back to the barn. Howdy stayed where he was as the members of the group began to go their way.
Shucks, Brian had provided coaching on how to strike a casual but arresting pose with one boot placed on a fence rail the next time he encountered Cassie, but here he stood with nothing but a fat, white column to brace himself. He slouched back against it and raised one knee so his boot heel rested on the pillar. Made him feel like some kind of hokey male model, and he guessed that’s what Brian intended. He did catch Cassie’s eye immediately as she turned to follow her son.
She went right for his soft, exposed parts like a fox taking a rooster for its dinner. “What are you doing here?” The chill in her voice could have frostbitten his nose.
“Ice, baby. Stay cool,” he thought. “Helping out just like you, ma’am.” He tipped the worn, gray Stetson his grandfather had given him years ago and Brian made him practice tipping only yesterday. “I got in last night. They put me up in the cabin next to Corazon and Knox so I can assist with the ranch while Joe is gone.”
“Knox never needed any help in the past.” Suspicion tinged her statement.
“Well, ma’am, the Charolais cows are dropping their calves this month. Sometimes that keeps Knox up all night. If that happens, I’ll see to the stock during the day so he can get some rest.”
“I wouldn’t call seven horses and a small herd of beef cattle ‘the stock’.”
“We call it that in Oklahoma where I come from, and they do need care every single day, ma’am.” Howdy tipped his hat again and hoped he wasn’t overdoing it.
“Would you stop with the ma’am! I told you to call me Cassie.”
“I don’t feel we’re that friendly, ma’am.” He resisted the urge to tip his hat again.
She stepped closer as if she wanted to kick away the boot that rested on the pillar and send him sprawling, but she stopped a foot away. Still with those long legs clad in skinny jeans, she could probably do it from there if she wanted.
Instead, she stared at him hard. “You look different.”
“New haircut. Now it doesn’t get into my eyes.” Pretty sure he hadn’t worn it long enough to have hat head he removed the cowboy hat to show her.
“That’s an improvement,” she granted. “Nice jacket. New?”
“Yep.”
“I’m surprised it doesn’t have fringe considering your orientation.”
“Told you before, I’m straight as they come. What I can’t figure is why you don’t like me.”
“Maybe it’s your freckles. I can’t stand freckles on a man.”
Tarnation! He knew he should have gotten some goop to cover them up even if he only had a few across the bridge of his nose. He noticed Tommy standing behind his young mother, heartbreak all over his face. The boy had come up on them while they were engrossed in each other.
“I got freckles,” the kid said. “Lots more than Mr. Howdy.”
Cassie spun around and immediately stooped down to hug her child. “No, Tommy. I didn’t mean you. It’s cinnamon freckles I don’t like. You have orange, my favorite color.”
“The nuns at school say people shouldn’t be hated because of the color of their skin. Mama Nell says so, too.”
“They are right, absolutely right. Maybe Mr. Howdy’s freckles aren’t so bad, and I really love yours.”
McCoy took the opportunity to tip his hat at her again. “Thank you, ma’am. Somehow, I suspect you might have hidden freckles of your own, and I do like the orange ones, too.”
“She does!” Tommy answered for his mother. “But she puts stuff on them to make them disappear because she’s a girl. But we’re men, and we don’t wear makeup. Right, Mr. Howdy?”
“Right,” he answered, so glad he hadn’t gotten that goop after all. He offered Tommy a high five enthusiastically accepted.
“Corazon says lunch is ready. Are you two coming? You can sit next to me, Mr. Howdy, and maybe after you can help me with my kicking.”
“Sure,” he said, carefully sliding his boot down the pillar in order not to go pitching forward. His calf muscle had gone to sleep, and he limped after mother and child.
Cassie tossed a venomous glance over her shoulder. “Don’t you have stock to see about in the barn?”
“I will after we eat. Maybe Tommy can help me muck out those stalls so we can get down to kicking practice earlier. That was the rule at my grandpa’s ranch.”
Tommy held out the hand not being gripped by his mother. Howdy took it, and like a happy family, they went into have lunch.
EIGHT
“I’m sorry,” Joe said.
Nell moved her eyes from the view of falling snow that covered the entire Grand Canyon like an opaque white bed sheet hung out to dry. Nothing could be seen beyond it. They had a rim cabin possessing a funky sort of fake adobe charm at Bright Angel Lodge. Plain furnishings, a double bed, small private bath, and a television made up the amenities. The wood in the fireplace popped merrily making the room cozy and bright if by no means as luxurious as the bedroom they shared at
home. Their vast Jacuzzi overhung with a crystal chandelier back at Lorena Ranch would have overflowed the space allotted for bathing here.
Nell smiled slightly at the thought. She and Joe had broken up while he built his pseudo-ante-bellum mansion at the ranch, and his often questionable taste in furnishings had come into play in the bathroom. Really, what woman wanted a thousand watts of light illuminating her when she lay naked in the tub? And he’d put in another bidet, never used, but a great spot to raise African violets. Oh, Joe, how she did love him, bad taste and all.
“There, I saw that smile! This place isn’t so bad. I mean not nearly as nice as our suite at the Sheraton in Phoenix, but kinda cute, huh? I didn’t know about the weather. It’s like spring in the south of Arizona and here we got snow. Who would have thunk it?” He poked at the logs in the fireplace and sent sparks spiraling up the chimney.
“It does get cold at this elevation. I guess we should have expected some snow.”
“Some! We can’t see a damned thing out that window. We could get lost and fall right off the rim on our way to the lodge for dinner. Don’t think they have room service for the cabins.”
“Most likely not. Really, I don’t care.” Nell sighed and returned to watching snow fall.
“Since we’re snowed in, how about some sex—anyway you want it? A few more days, and we’ll have to hold off until we’re sure the babies are settled. We can watch the Super Bowl tomorrow and have a drunken orgy. Last call for alcohol before you get pregnant.”
“That’s your idea of fun, not mine. Besides, I doubt alcohol is such a good idea with all the drugs in my system right now.”
“So. No sex?” He gave her that pitiful puppy dog look he could pull off so well with his large, dark eyes.
“I didn’t say that. It’s just I thought we’d be taking pictures of the canyon and e-mailing them to the children, not sitting around in a whiteout.”
Joe stopped aggravating the fire and moved closer to his wife to attempt stirring up another kind of spark. He wrapped one big arm around her and drew her to the bed. The mattress wasn’t the best but after a while, they wouldn’t notice.