Love Drunk Cowboy (26 page)

“Thank you,” Austin said.

Had it only been two weeks since she and Pearlita had the simple memorial for her grandmother? That day seemed like a lifetime ago, one that she should leave in the past, and go on to a very different one that involved green John Deere tractors instead of black power suits.

She went back inside and called Rye’s number and got the answering machine. “Rye, this is Austin. I’m going back to Tulsa today. I’ve made arrangements with my boss to take off a day at a time on Fridays so I’ll be back next weekend. I’d like to get home in time to run by my office and get things in order for Monday morning. Tell Maddie I’m sorry I’ll miss the strawberry shortcake. I told Felix that if anything happens to call you. You’ve got my cell phone number so please call me when you get this message.” She paused. Did she tell him that his kisses were still hot on her lips after twelve hours or that she would miss him? “Well, I guess that’s all. Talk to you later. See you next weekend.”

She flipped her phone shut. “Shit! That sounded like a message I’d leave for my mother. And I’m beginning to cuss like Granny. Molly and Greta must be right. There’s something in the water.”

It was on the machine and she couldn’t erase it so she neatly packed her things into the suitcase, adding her jeans and shirts to her black suits and pajamas. She dressed in hip slung jeans, comfortable boots, and a western shirt and pulled her hair up in a ponytail. She tried to call Rye one more time but got his answering machine again.

“Rye, I’m on my way out of here. Wanted to talk to you in person before I left but I guess you are off somewhere this morning.”

Then she tried his cell phone and got nothing but left a message there, too. “Rye, I’ve talked to my boss and would love to tell you the new arrangements. Please call me.”

She drove slowly through Terral but didn’t see his truck in front of the café or at the Mini-Mart. Turning north at the stop sign was almost as hard as watching her grandmother’s ashes float down the Red River. She pulled off the side of the road in front of the big brick
Welcome to Terral
sign and sat there for several minutes. The Lanier gut said she was making a big mistake, that she shouldn’t leave Terral. She fought with it for a few minutes but she pulled back out on the road and drove north, arguing with herself every single mile she drove away from Terral.

Rye was whistling when he came in the house at dusk. He and Kent had walked the fence line until noon, shoring up the sagging barbed wire. They’d had lunch together at the Peach Orchard and then worked all afternoon on the loading chute for the rodeo livestock. On April 23 and 24 he’d have to have them in Mesquite, Texas, for the first rodeo of the season. He’d bring them home after that weekend and then reload them the week of May 21 for the season. After that he’d be in Mesquite two days a week. The bulls looked brawny and were mean as hell. They’d give any rider a run for his money.

Kent had left at five thirty to take the family to Wichita Falls for dinner at Long John Silver’s and a movie. Rye had put the finishing touches on the chute and checked out the farm pond with intentions of taking Austin fishing down at the river that night. He’d already figured out which quilt to take and what picnic basket to fill up with snack food; found a cooler and filled it with beer, ice, and a bottle of watermelon wine; and had a shower when he saw the red blinking light on the answering machine.

He smiled when it rang once, imagining Austin coming down the hall in her overalls and tank top, all sweaty after a long day of packing boxes. His pulse raced and desire flooded his body at the vision. On the second ring he could almost hear her swearing. The third ring he was pulling back his mini-blinds to see if there were lights on in the house. Fourth: it was dark as midnight and her little red car was nowhere to be seen. Fifth: Verline’s voice answered, “If this is a telemarketer, take me off your list. You ain’t got a thing I’m interested in buying or hearing about. Anyone else, you know the drill. When it beeps, you talk. When I get the message, I’ll call back.”

Rye’s smile vanished leaving a frown in its wake. Maybe she’d gone with Gemma down to Ringgold. He dialed his folks’ number and Gemma picked up.

“Hello. If you are calling to fuss at me, don’t. I’m at home and Momma says I can stay here until I find a place. We’ve got an idea in the works that Austin set me to thinkin’ about.”

“Where is Austin?”

“I left her asleep this morning. We talked until way past midnight and when I woke up this morning I was so excited that I drove down here to talk to Momma and Daddy about things. I’m thinkin’ of putting in a beauty shop of my own right here in Ringgold. What do you think about that?”

Rye sighed. Right then he didn’t care if she put one in front of the Pearly Gates and fixed hair for free to the ladies who had an appointment with St. Peter. “Honey, that sounds great. You’d be closer to home and Momma would like that. You could even help with the horses in your spare time.”

Gemma groaned. “What spare time? I’ll have to fix hair from daylight to dark to pay the loan off if I borrow money for my own shop.”

“I’ll loan you the money. I don’t think Austin is going to sell the farm any time soon and that’s the only place up here I’m interested in buying.”

“Ahhhh! You are a good brother. Are you serious?”

“I am. You sure you haven’t heard from her?”

“Not since last night. You two have a fight or something?”

“No, I just thought she might want to go fishing. She might have gone to play poker with Molly and Greta on a last-minute whim. See you at dinner tomorrow,” Rye said. They only had this one last night together so surely she didn’t go to a poker game. Unless she had decided to stay in Terral! His heart raced at that idea. Maybe she had gone to Nocona or Bowie to buy groceries for several weeks.

He hung up and looked at the flashing red light and the number four. He removed a beer from the cooler, popped the tab off the top, and pushed the button. Leaning on the kitchen cabinet, he listened to the first message, which offered him a great deal on a three-day trip to Branson, Missouri. Hotel, two shows a day, and dinner all for one low price.

“Does Austin like music shows?” he asked.

The second message wanted to sell him a time-share condo in Florida.

“What would she look like in a bikini?”

The third was a blank. Nobody talked.

He’d just taken a sip of beer when he heard Austin’s voice telling him she was going back to Tulsa. His throat shut off and he had trouble swallowing. He listened to it all the way through. By the time it finished he was gripping the can so hard that the sides were crushed and beer spewed out the top.

“Damn it all to hell! I thought we had at least one more day before she left.” He threw the beer into the kitchen sink and stomped back to the window. The house across the street not only looked empty, it felt vacated. She’d said she’d be back on Friday but that was almost a week away.

He looked on the dresser where he’d emptied his pockets for his cell phone but it wasn’t there. Then he remembered that the battery was nearly dead and he’d plugged it into the cigarette lighter outlet in the pickup and forgotten about it. He jogged out the back door to his truck and jerked the cords loose.

He listened to her two messages and dialed her cell number the minute they ended. She picked up on the first ring.

“Hi!”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“In traffic on the outskirts of Tulsa. I’ve got that dinner thing with my family tomorrow night but I thought if I got up here early enough I could get my office in order tomorrow and the week would go easier. Did you get my messages?” she asked.

“I did.”

“I’ll be back late Thursday. I made arrangements with my boss to work late whenever I need to and to take three-day weekends all summer so I can be there to do the guys’ payroll and have the weekends in Terral.”

“I see.”

“Are you mad? You sound angry,” she said.

“No, I just wanted to see you before you left. I’m not mad. I’m disappointed. I thought we’d go get a pizza from the Mini-Mart and go fishin’.”

“Well, shit! I’m disappointed too, but I’ll be back Thursday.”

He smiled at her cussing. “You could turn around and come back. You’d be home by midnight and we could forget fishin’ and do something more fun.”

“Ah, man! I’d rather do that anytime as drive in this traffic. Gotta go. It’s too dangerous to talk and drive in this mess. Call you later.”

Austin’s stomach was growling loudly when she hung up. She’d had a chicken sandwich from the McDonald’s drive-through in Oklahoma City but had only eaten half of it. It was difficult to eat when all she wanted to do was cry.

A tour bus passed her and quickly pulled back in front of her little sports car. It had a picture of a bronc rider on the back in bigger-than-life-full-living color and the words “See Texas” across the side. That brought a picture of Rye to her mind and she sighed.

It was near dark when she pulled into the gated apartment complex where she lived and showed the guard her ID card. She parked her dusty Corvette in the garage, reset the security code when she had lowered the door, and went into the apartment through the back door. The spotless kitchen was decorated with shades of bright yellow against a black marble countertop, charcoal gray tile floor, and stark white cabinets. Four modern chrome and black leather stools were drawn up to a bar separating the dining area from the kitchen. A matching glass-topped table with chrome legs and chairs with black padded seats took center stage in the dining area with the same décor flowing into the living room with its black velvet furniture, misty gray carpet, and bright yellow throw pillows. A brass floor lamp illuminated an original oil of a sunset and the ocean hanging above her sofa.

She carried her suitcase to the bedroom and dropped it beside the king-sized bed that looked like an acre and a half after the twin-sized one she’d been sleeping on in Terral. She checked her answering machine. It looked like blinking lights on a Christmas tree. Holding her breath and hoping to hear Rye’s deep voice, she hit the button and threw herself across the bed.

The first one had been left the day she went to Terral: her mother telling her that she was sorry she’d missed her. It went from there to telemarketers trying to sell her bogus extended warranties on her car, lesser insurance on her house since she owned it (which she did not), to more insurance on her life in case her children needed it for final arrangements, to surveys to see if she was in agreement with all of President Obama’s recent activity. But there was no message from Rye.

“Shit! He doesn’t have my house phone. Just my cell phone.”

She grabbed it but the batteries were dead. “Damn newfangled gadgets anyway,” she grumbled.

She picked up the house phone and dialed his cell number and it went to voice mail.

“I’m in my apartment. Please call me at this number,” and she unknowingly rattled off Verline’s house number in Terral.

She stretched out on the sofa with the phone right next to her. She shut her eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep. She dreamed of watermelon fields, watermelon wine, and Rye. They’d taken a bottle from the cellar and were picking their way through fully ripe watermelons on their way to the river to lie on the banks and watch the moon come up. They were older in her dream. White frosted the temples of Rye’s black hair and her dark tresses were streaked with silver. The happiness she had in the dream vanished when the telephone awoke her two hours later.

“Hello?” she said groggily.

“I figured you’d be up and on the road.” Her mother’s voice wasn’t happy.

She sighed and looked at the clock. It wasn’t quite ten. She wondered what Rye was doing.

“I’m not in Terral. I’m at my apartment. I decided to let the hired help bring in one more crop before I sell the place so they’ll have a job. They have work visas and their families depend on their summer paychecks. So I’ve got all summer to take care of things in Terral. I made an arrangement with Harvey to take Fridays off,” Austin answered flatly.

“Well, damn!”

“I thought you’d be happy that I’m home.”

“I thought it would be over and done with today and you’d be permanently home where you belong.”

Where do I belong? Everything looks so sterile here and so cluttered there. Is there a happy medium somewhere in between the two places?

“Well?” Barbara quipped when Austin didn’t answer.

“Guess I’m not,” Austin said.

Was Rye already asleep or had he gone to his folks’ house to talk to Gemma?

“I’m calling to tell you that your aunts couldn’t get away so we’re having the dinner next week instead of today.”

She could’ve cried. She would have stayed in Terral until after dinner with the O’Donnells if she’d known. She would have had one more day with Rye and worked late on Sunday night to catch up at the office.

“You will be here?” Barbara asked when Austin didn’t answer.

“I’ll be here. I can leave early on Sunday and be back in time for supper. But I’ll be leaving each week as soon as I get away from work on Thursday. I have to be at the Ryan bank on Fridays for payroll. Greta and Molly expect me at the Ryan drugstore at two for ice cream.”

“I expect by the time you get that crop in you’ll be damn glad to come home permanently. It’s probably a wise decision because you’ll see the contrast between Podunk and living right.”

“Maybe so but then maybe I’ll decide I like Podunk better.”

“I hope not! Have a good week. I’ve made plans for tomorrow or I’d invite you over for lunch. See you in a week for dinner.”

“I’ll be there.” Austin’s heart whined for Rye O’Donnell.

She was in the shower when she heard her cell phone ringing again and hurried out to grab it. Standing there dripping water onto the hardwood floor in her bedroom she answered breathlessly.

“Hey, girl, where are you?” Gemma asked.

“I came back to Tulsa. Didn’t Rye tell you?”

“No, he called and wanted to know if I’d heard from you but he didn’t mention that you’d left. Then I can have your share of shortcake at dinner tomorrow?”