The Lone Texan

by Lass Small

  Tom squatted down and put his hand on the arm of her chair. He said, “Tell me what’s the matter. I can fix anything.” And he looked at her seriously.

  She burst into tears.

  That shocked Tom. He didn’t quite know what to do—besides calling his mama. He really didn’t want his mother there, right then. He wanted to be the hero and figure out—what all else it was—for Ellen.

  He bent over and squatted a bit and lifted her against him and went over to another, bigger, rocking chair and sat down with her on his lap.

  He shifted around and found a reasonably clean handkerchief. He gave it to her saying, “Just use this side, it’s fairly clean.”

  In her crying, she heard him and damned if she didn’t laugh and hiccup and blubber and cry some more.

  Quietly, softly, he moved them back and forth in that rocking chair. He hugged her to him and said, “Nothing’s that bad. I can handle anything except you finding another man you prefer over me. Did you?”

  She shook her head. Her face was in that one side of his handkerchief.

  He tucked her head against his shoulder, by his cheek, and rocked back and forth singing, “Hush little baby, don’t you cry...” and there were all the lines he somberly made up that were hilarious.

  Men do that sort of thing.

  It doesn’t solve anything, but it makes the crying woman laugh in a watery way.

  Finally, she was silent except for her jerking throat.

  He asked her, “Gonna let me know which dragon I’m supposed to kill?”

  Jerking with the leftover sobs in her throat, she shook her head. But she stayed on his lap and she was against him. Just beneath her bottom, Tom’s pants were staunch.

  Tom said, “You gotta know I’m your knight... although I don’t have any shiny armor. I can solve anything. What made you cry like that? It boggles me to have you unhappy.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “Did anyone say anything to you that caused this?”

  “No.”

  “You just like to cry and upset me?”

  She shook her head.

  “Would you hold me on your lap if I cried?”

  She gulped and choked laughing.

  “You don’t want to hold me on your lap?”

  She managed to get out, “You’re too big for me.”

  “Just your lap.” He hastened to smooth that out. “I’m taller than you, but my parts aren’t humongous.” His hand completely covered her small hand.

  She understood what he was saying because she blushed during her wobbly laugh. She said, “I have no idea why I’m carrying on this way. I beg your pardon.”

  “You’ve had a hard time. You’re eating better. You’re nice to hold. You’re gonna be okay.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He was surprised. “I asked the top vet who takes care of all the critters around and about, and he said that you’ll be—hush—okay. Now you’re not listening. Creatures are creatures, no matter—listen to me—quit laughing thataway. You’re gonna be okay.”

  She lay across his chest with her bottom on his susceptible lap. She watched him. Her throat and nose jerked and sniffled now and then. She said, “You’re so kind.”

  “Because I love you? Yeah. But, honey, I’d hold you if you were ninety years old. I can’t stand to see anybody cry. You should have seen Bud when his little girl died. He was so frantic. It took a bunch of us to hold him steady. We all talked at the same time. He didn’t hear a one of us. He just was frantic! We didn’t know what to do.

  “Then Mama came out and she sat and held his hand. She asked him questions. Being a gentleman, he had to reply. He did. And she gently got him calm. He loves her. She got him through it.”

  Very softly, he asked Ellen, “Should I go get my mama to help you?”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “Sometimes it’s easiest to talk to somebody. Like the Catholics do with their confessions. Do you feel the need to spill your guts? I’ve seen everything. Tell me and I’ll help you with whatever it is that’s riding you.”

  There was a pause, then she said searchingly, “I’ve been—lost—in a way. I’ve not really wanted to be a part of this world. You and your family have been so kind to me. I haven’t realized how many people come to you.”

  He discarded being involved. He told her, “My mama. She always knows what to do with just about anything. Go to her if you can’t communicate with me. I’d help. You could tell me anything. Are you a crook?”

  She laughed in soggy way, “No.”

  “You killed anybody?”

  “Good heavens, no!”

  “You stole a man from another woman?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, then, I’m stymied. What have you done?”

  “My baby died.”

  He hadn’t forgotten that.

  She gulped with her emotion.

  He said softly, “Yeah.” She wanted to talk. Could he be calm enough to listen? He said, “That’s tough. He wasn’t ready to be born. I’ve forgotten how old he was?”

  “She was but six months inside me.”

  He altered the baby’s I.D. “Did you get to see her?”

  “No. Not really. She was still quite little.”

  “Sometimes little kids aren’t growing as they ought. She probably wasn’t meant to be.”

  “That’s what the doctor said.”

  “Then you ought to let her go. It’s tough, but something was wrong. She preferred to pass on living. She was probably smart.”

  “That’s what they told me.”

  “Is that when the...person...left you?” Tom just couldn’t say “man” for such a nasty wimp.

  “He’d left sometime before then. When I said I wouldn’t abort the baby.”

  Tom said with conviction, “You were lucky to get away from him...you aren’t yearning for the bastard, are you?”

  “No. The baby.”

  “After we’re married—”

  “I don’t think I could ever marry anyone.”

  “Well, we’ll wait and see. I’m a very willing husband. You can hang around and decide. If you just can’t stand me, I’ll probably become a hermit.”

  “No.”

  He drew a deep breath. But he couldn’t think of anything else to say to her about the baby. So he said, “You hungry? Emotion always makes me feel starved. I need a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk. How about you?”

  “No.”

  “Come to the kitchen and watch me put together the best sandwich you’ll ever see. And I just—might—give you—a—quarter of it. Hah! Fooled you there, didn’t I?”

  She shook her head a bit “I don’t want anything to eat.”

  “Well, I don’t mind that a-tall. But don’t you come around begging for part of mine after I’ve made it. Hear?”

  She replied, “I hear. But I don’t believe my stomach can watch you eat. I might gag.”

  He considered her. Then he suggested, “You can sit backwards and still talk to me! You can’t just go on off to bed and—desert—me—leaving me all alone in this house.”

  She said kindly and gently, “There are people everywhere around. You stumble over them. Your mother is probably training them for a better life. You are all strange people. You’re a very nice man.”

  He agreed instantly, “I’m darling. You need to know that. I’ve never before admitted to a woman that I am—darling—but you just need to know that I am. I’m also precious.”

  She watched him and murmured softly, “I see.”

  “I’m glad you do. It helps if you understand that and then you won’t be startled when you realize it’s true.”

  Her laugh was soggy. That was the only way to describe it.

  She was on his lap and had been for some time. He put his arms under her shoulders and knees and stood up!

  She gasped, clutching him. She managed, “How’d you do that!”

  “Well, hell, I guess I’ll have
to tell you the truth, I’m magic. I can do all sorts of things.”

  “Like—?”

  “I can cook and eat and make beds, and dust and vacuum.”

  “No!”

  “Yep. Mamma didn’t let a one of us escape being a cleaner-upper. She was vigorous about it. She’s normally a director. We flinch and try to sneak away.”

  She asked, “Do you ever get away?”

  He nodded. “On occasion.”

  “Mostly—not?”

  He had carried her down the hall and across the rooms to the kitchen door. No one was anywhere around. Mina saw to it, and she, too, had vanished.

  In the empty kitchen, Tom put Ellen on a chair. “Now watch. If I do something wrong, you may mention it—once—and you can taste what I’ve made me if you behave.”

  “Yes.”

  But instead of a sandwich, Tom made pancakes. He nipped them and most of the time he caught them. The others were retrieved and discarded quite casually as he said, “Not balanced” or “Too heavy” or “A discard.”

  She bit her lips and her eyes danced. She even ate one of the pancakes! But her eyes couldn’t stay open. She was exhausted. So he abandoned his plate, scooped her gently into his arms and carried her to her room.

  Her arms were around his shoulders and she couldn’t keep her eyes from shutting. Her head was unbalanced, so he shifted her and her head lay on the front of his shoulder against his throat.

  When they arrived at her room, she did lean to turn the doorknob. His foot again opened the door for her and he took her inside. Tom said, “I can strip you and put you in a nightgown. I’ve done that for men at the hospital. I’ve even washed them. I’d be tolerant in doing that for you.” The only thing wrong was that his voice got husky.

  Ellen said, “Never mind.” Her eyes blinked slowly and she moved gradually as if in a dream.

  “With all those wet tears, you’re soggy. You need a nice, hot shower.”

  “I’m too tired.”

  “Either you shower, or I give you a facecloth rubdown with hot water.”

  “You’re being abrasive.”

  Tom promised, “You’ll sleep like a log.”

  “I would anyway.”

  “No. I’m an emergency trainee for the medics we have, and I’ve learned a whole lot about people. You either shower, or I’ll give you a rubdown. I would suggest you strip and just lie on the towel on your bed—” bis voice was foggy “—and I’ll give you a good rubdown.”

  “Never mind.”

  “You choose the—shower?” His voice squeaked up in shock.

  She sighed with elaborate endurance. “There’s no other choice with a man who is a maniac.”

  “I’m a lover.”

  She hesitated, and he saw that her eyes looked off to the side in alertness.

  He said, “I’m only a lover to a woman who loves me.” His voice was low and steady and kind. “I let her decide.”

  “soh.”

  What a nothing response. He turned his back and said, “Loosen what needs it. I can bathe anything.”

  “I’ll shower.”

  “Well, damn.”

  She shook her head as she went into her little bath. But she was smiling.

  To Tom, just the smile alone was a big leap forward for her. She would make it. Eventually. And his eyes slitted as he thought of giving that bastard Phillip a really serious right punch.

  Tom was not a fighter. He’d seldom even needed to chide anyone. And he tried to think if he’d ever before wanted to use his knotted fist to hit a man.

  That was a very sober observation. He’d wrestled with his brothers. But that hadn’t been serious. And it had been holding and tripping and that sort of thing. Had he ever actually hit any other human?

  He was thoughtful.

  She came from the bathroom into the unlighted bedroom. She wore a silk robe. With the bath light on, the robe was transparent for any practical purposes, and Tom could see the outline of her body. He sighed. That meant he’d have to jog another couple of miles before he slept.

  He turned back the bedclothes and watched her discard her robe. That wobbled him considerably, and excited his breathing, but she was wearing white silk pajamas that clung to her skinny body very carefully.

  Knowing that, didn’t adjust his lecherous body or his wild mind. Maybe it was a wild sex and a lecherous mind? Whatever. He’d get to add another mile to his jogging. Lucky, lucky him.

  He didn’t speak aloud. The hot bath shower was just what Ellen had needed. She wasn’t even aware of him as a man. She allowed him to pull back the covers and she got into the bed. He covered her gently and minimally. He did not linger.

  Exhausted, she began to drift into sleep almost immediately. And she never heard the door open or close. He’d oiled the hinges.

  She slept.

  He did not.

  The various night crews’ stints had communicated with one another, and while they’d laughed over Tom being thwarted by a woman, which of them hadn’t experienced the exact same thing sometime or the other?

  Their laughter was compassionate and the verbal jostling was gentle...for men. They gave Tom all sorts of advice.

  He replied, “I tried that” or “I’d never be able to get her that far from mother” or “Don’t you guys have anything else to think about?”

  Life went on. Things happened but nothing was mind-boggling. It was about normal for that many people being underfoot. The cat continued to ring the front doorbell looking for a handout.

  What happened? One of the crew caught a mouse. And he put it in a hinged, wire basket used to dunk vegetables.

  With the mouse in the basket, that way, they could all keep track of the mouse. You couldn’t put a mouse in a drawer, it would get out the side or the back of the drawer. The wire basket was the only place for it. There was no other place it could be...be seen and be alive.

  The damned cat came around to the front of the house and rang the doorbell.

  The house crew called all the others who were in the stables or in the fields or on horseback. They came inside the back door, and the cat was still ringing the front doorbell. So one of the crew let the cat in.

  The cat greeted everybody along the way to the kitchen. The humans knew what was there on the kitchen floor. It was not only something encaged, in the cage was the live mouse!

  The women who were a part of the crews were standing on chairs or stools, and everyone was silent as they watched...the cat.

  He looked around at all the people and was courteous. But then he saw the wire basket. He became rigidly alert! He froze and watched. Only the tip of his tail was not under complete control. The tail end of the cat flicked minutely with excitement.

  One of the guys had the bottoms of his pants tied around his ankles. It was he who opened the cage. Both the cat and mouse waited...not sure.

  And Tom Keeper said softly, “Two bucks the cat misses.”

  Well, from there the human bidders went berserk, and bet on all kinds of maneuvers and odds and who did what all.

  It was hilarious. The bidders also watched the cat and mouse. They were very alert. The cat with the mouse, the mouse with the cage he was in and all the people who were enormous. It was very quiet.

  The mouse was very still.

  The cat sat down and watched the mouse. There was no hurry. The mouse wasn’t going anywhere.

  However, the men who were trading sums and discussing who would win became a tad more vocal. In the bets, it was if the cat would eat the mouse and not just kill it, or if he’d become bored and—leave?

  How boring was life to have the possibilities of a mouse and a cat catch such attention!

  Several of the women even got off the chairs and one simply left. The men decided to put the mouse in her room. Other women gasped in shock and questioned such action. They were quite hostile.

  Men exchanged glances and rolled their eyes a tad as they bit at their smiles.

  The mouse became a pet,
living in the wire vegetable basket. He was fed. He had the cat’s full attention. They sought names for the mouse.

  One of the guys warned, “You name him, and the cat gets him, you’ll grieve.”

  Another said, “The cat’s no mouser.”

  The reply was: “Naw, he doesn’t know the first thing about what to do to get to the mouse. He’ll end up just watching the mouse and wanting to play with it.”

  Someone squeaked, “Eatin’ a mouse is playing with it?”

  “The cat don’t know no better. It’s spoiled rotten. We feed it all the time.”

  One observed, “The mouse’s skinny.”

  Another mentioned, “We got to get him plumped up for the cat.”

  One of the women exclaimed, “He sings!”

  Another woman said, “The mouse is neat and tidy.”

  The men then offered the women the care of the mouse, but they all declined.

  Of course, the men began to tease the women for being scaredy-cats with the mice around and about.

  One woman retorted, “That’s how come we have men around here!”

  The men were shocked! “Us?” And, “Why, we never in this world knew that! How come?”

  One of the women sassed, “We don’t like fooling around with rodents.”

  “Oh. Then Bob...isn’t a...rodent?”

  Another male gasped, “Vilell, I do declare! I thought he was.”

  Another shook his head and said, “Naw.”

  A woman’s voice butted in with, “On occasion—”

  When the laughter quit, and Bob’s laughter and blushing was the worst, somebody said, “Let’s wiggle the wire basket.”

  “Yeah.!”

  All the women yelled, “Wait!” as they jumped off the chairs and left the room, closed the doors and just... vanished.

  The men brimmed laughter. They didn’t make one hilarious sound. They coughed and blew their noses but they did not let any woman know the men were that amused by them.

  The reason they did that was because they wanted something similar to happen again with mice and women but not for a while.

  They said the mouse escaped. That’s what the men said. They opened the top of the lettuce wire holder, and the mouse...just left.

  After that, the women walked carefully and looked around on the floor—until one of the men said he’d seen the mouse on a chandelier. That rattled all the women.