Another reference Carly didn’t understand.
They sat down at a small table near one of the side walls, and Carly glanced around, admiring the art on the walls. The collection included paintings, photographs and prints. Tina explained that Brynne had an art background and that a few of these were by locals. She pointed at a photograph of wild horses. “That one’s by a friend of Susan’s who’s very talented. It’s not only beautiful in itself but it represents our county. Wild Horse County.”
“Wow,” Carly breathed. “So gorgeous! And I didn’t know that, about the county name.”
A waitress, name of Miranda, brought them menus and rhymed off a list of specials. The last thing Carly felt right now was hungry but she ordered a small serving of nachos. Tina asked for a salmon salad sandwich with fries.
Before the food arrived, Tina looked her directly in the eye. “Carly, sweetie. I know there are a lot of...issues and questions about your background and why you’re here. To be honest, Cord confided in us. I understand you might have reason to keep certain facts to yourself. And I won’t interfere. But can you tell me one thing?”
Carly stared back at her, hardly able to speak. It was going to be about the money, wasn’t it?
“When I got the laundry in your backpack—with your permission—I found quite a lot of money. All I want to know is that you have it legally and legitimately.”
Bingo. Carly sighed. The whole situation made her feel awkward. Nervous. “You mean did I steal it? No! I promise you. It...it’s what was left of my mom’s. She got it in cash and gave it to me shortly before she died. She didn’t want to risk my stepfather—Duncan—taking it out of her account.” Carly was almost embarrassed at what a skillful liar she’d become.
Tina nodded. “Okay, that sounds reasonable.”
Yep, skillful, and convincing, too. More than nervous, she felt guilty about lying to the woman who’d been so kind to her. So...motherly.
“Oh, good, here’s our lunch,” Tina said.
Carly couldn’t manage too many of the nachos and asked that the remainder be wrapped up. When they got back to the trailer, she put them in the refrigerator and grabbed her laptop from her room. “I’m going to sit outside for a while and catch up on email.” She helped Tina take the groceries to the main kitchen, then walked in the direction of a tree with branches that nearly reached the ground, a tree that would keep her hidden. A cottonwood, Tina had told her. Carly looked around and saw no one. Time for the next YouTube installment, a project she’d begun soon after starting her journey. She’d done it for various reasons, including the hope of memorializing this part of her life, sharing it with others—and the opportunity to make some much-needed money; she’d been more successful at that than she’d expected, thanks mainly to the fans she’d gained and their generous donations.
Accompanied by Bandit and Smoky, she moved carefully toward the paddock and, standing well back, made a video of the two horses there. “Hi, it’s Charlotte. Welcome to My 3 Dads. You might remember that I’m in Montana now—and I’m close to finding my father, but not there yet. Thank you for your interest in my journey and for all the financial help you’ve given me.” After making sure there was no one in the vicinity, she got some video of the landscape, careful not to show any discernible details. “This is where one of my Possible Dads happens to live. Nice, huh?”
She’d recently begun to sing on her YouTube videos and, standing a few feet from the paddock, launched into John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads.” Seemed like a good choice!
When she saw Shallie and Cord, both on horseback and trotting in her direction, she stopped, shut down YouTube and turned off her computer while they were still some distance away. As they approached, she moved toward them and said as blithely as she could, “Hi, I was just catching up on email and Facebook. And now I’m going for a walk.”
She had no intention of giving them a chance to find out what she was doing. When she did let them know, whether she did, would depend on how things went, who turned out to be her father and, more important, how he reacted.
They left with a friendly wave.
“Whew. That was close.” Yeah, she’d really become an accomplished liar—but wasn’t sure if she was doing this for her own protection or theirs. Keeping up such a big lie, such a complex one, had become a burden.
For the briefest of moments, she was tempted to call them back, to tell the truth, here and now.
* * *
SATURDAY EVENING, FEELING pleased with the day’s results—both his session with Shallie and his work with Mitch—Cord sat on the porch holding a bag of chips and a beer, sipping slowly. The dogs flopped hopefully at his feet.
Tina and Mitch showed up, and Cord offered them a drink; they both accepted. Handing Mitch the chip bag, he went inside to get him a beer. Tina joined him. “Don’t worry, I’ll pour my own wine,” she said. “Had dinner yet?”
Cord shook his head, and she shook hers, making a disapproving sound with her tongue. “That’s what I figured. I’ll put together a few snacks for us, okay?”
“Thanks! I did feed the dogs, though.”
“Well, you’ve got your priorities straight.”
Cord grinned in unfeigned agreement and joined Mitch on the porch again. They discussed today’s progress and their plans to hire local workers to harvest hay in a month or so. “How are your girls doing?” Cord asked. “Anything new with Susan?”
At twenty-nine, Susan was the youngest and single; she headed up the town’s small library. “She’s all excited about starting a weekly blog. She’s calling it Painted Ponies and Favorite Books.”
“Nothing new with Caroline and family,” he went on. Caroline, the oldest, and her husband, Peter Carson, had a ten-year-old girl, Ashley, and an infant son named Mitchell, so she was, for now, a stay-at-home mom while he ran an accounting business. “Peter’s just thankful tax season’s well over.”
Elspeth, the middle daughter, was married to Aaron, helped him with his music career and did English tutoring on Skype. “She’s got quite a few students now. And Aaron—Oh, that reminds me. Are you going to the Country Classics thing at Bailey’s on Sunday? Like I told you, Aaron and his band are a big part of that. And there’s going to be an open mic hour.”
“Yeah. Carly and Shallie both want to go. And I always enjoy The GateCrashers.”
Tina walked onto the porch just then, carrying a platter of cheese, ham and crackers in one hand, her glass in another. Cord jumped up to take the tray. “Couldn’t help overhearing. Carly’s really looking forward to it. You’ve probably heard our whole family’s planning to go. Well, except for the little ones.”
Cord nodded. “Eli and J.P. will probably come, too.” The three chatted in a low-key fashion for ten minutes or so, until Shallie emerged from the house. “Sorry,” she told them. “I fell asleep. Um, I was wondering if I could take everyone to dinner tonight? As a thank-you for last night? To Bailey’s? I keep hearing about it but haven’t been there yet.”
“Thank you,” Tina said, “but we’re already going there for the Country Classics show, and two nights so close together is probably one too many, especially since Carly and I had lunch there today. We’re—”
“Okay,” Shallie broke in. “I’ll cover our dinner there on Sunday.”
“If you’re sure...”
“I’m sure. In fact, I insist. Meanwhile, what are we having for dinner tonight? I guess we can’t order pizza?”
“Not easily,” Tina said, “but I can fix homemade pizza. Oh—here comes Carly.”
“Pizza! Yay!” Carly jumped up the porch steps, laptop in its shoulder bag. “Hi, everyone! Tina, let me help with the prep.”
Cord had to smile at her enthusiasm and noted again that she was making an effort to cooperate, to become part of the household.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Tina said. “I think we h
ave all the ingredients—including premade crusts. Sorry if that’s cheating.”
“I’ll chop veggies,” Carly offered, following her inside. “That’s kind of my specialty now.”
Shallie waited until after they’d left to speak to Cord. “Thanks for this afternoon. Going riding was exactly what I needed. I know we don’t have horse-related plans for Sunday, but please let me give you a hand with cleaning the stalls.”
“You don’t need to,” Mitch said, as Cord began to say, “It’s not part of the deal—”
“I realize that, but I’d like to. And it’s not as if I’ve never done it before.” She gave them what Cord thought was a rather awkward smile. “Now, I’ll go and do my bit for the pizza-making extravaganza.”
Half an hour later, Carly came out to tell them dinner was ready—a variety of homemade pizzas, two vegetarian, two with sausage, all with plenty of cheese.
Additional chairs were brought onto the porch, and everyone gathered there with their slices of pizza and drinks. Cord called the pizza “Better than any takeout,” which made Carly smile.
A lively discussion of favorite country-western songs followed. “What are you hoping The GateCrashers are gonna play tomorrow night?” Mitch asked. He explained that the band was popular throughout Wild Horse County and sometimes performed farther afield. They even had a couple of CDs out.
“Johnny Cash,” Tina replied. “Patsy Cline. Willie Nelson. Hey! Any of you planning to volunteer for open mic?”
“I like listening to music, but I can’t sing worth a damn,” Cord said. “I’d clear the place out in two seconds flat—and I mean flat.”
“I don’t know many of the songs,” Shallie put in. “You, Carly?”
Carly shrugged. “I’ll be there to listen.” She stood up and began collecting dishes from the table.
Cord wondered why the rush, but decided to pitch in. “Thank you, Tina, Carly, Shallie, for an exceptional meal,” he said formally as he stood up and began moving leftovers to the fridge.
Mitch seconded his thanks and suggested he, his wife and Carly head back to the trailer. “Long day tomorrow.”
Cord agreed, and so did Shallie—based on her quick good-nights and her even quicker flight up the stairs.
Damn. He’d hoped to talk with her tonight, just a pleasant How-are-things exchange—and he still had to give her the list of questions for Carly. He’d check the crumpled napkin tonight and transcribe his notes.
He thought about what he’d say to Shallie tomorrow. He’d explain, in more detail, why he felt uncomfortable with the idea of asking Carly himself, even though he might be her father. Or more likely because of it...
I don’t want Carly to think I don’t trust her, he’d tell Shallie. I do, but according to Eli, we need that information. Just to...confirm things. And I can sense she’d rather talk to you than me.
He imagined Shallie’s response. She’d agree, she’d have some suggestions of her own—and then their conversation would become personal. About where they were in life and where they hoped to go.
* * *
LATE SUNDAY MORNING, Cord finally relented and let Shallie help with the stall cleaning. She was appropriately dressed in worn jeans, a long-sleeved cotton shirt, old running shoes. And she looked as good as she had in the new clothes she’d had on the other day. She wore a ponytail tied on top of her head, and beautiful as her long chestnut hair was, this style revealed her elegant cheekbones and her smooth forehead. He had to force himself to stop watching her as they had their breakfast of decent coffee and microwaved leftover pizza.
As she’d said last night, it wasn’t as though she’d never cleaned stalls or groomed horses before; she explained that she often assisted Emma at the Horses Help stables. “I don’t have a problem with the housekeeping part of working with horses.”
With Mitch there, too, the work went quickly; the three of them mucked out the stalls, delivered fresh hay and fresh water, then brought the horses back to the barn.
All the while, they exchanged horse stories, some of them emotional, others amusing. Cord especially liked the one Shallie told them about a horse of Emma’s becoming “best friends” with a cat owned by the people who rented her the property. Napoleon the cat would leap onto the stall railing, then he and Charlie the horse would nuzzle each other.
As he prepared to leave, Mitch said he’d never enjoyed a session of stall cleaning more. “I’m going to tell Tina your cat and horse story. She’ll love it!”
Afterward, Shallie said she was going up to her room to shower.
“Me, too,” Cord said. “I mean,” he added with a slightly embarrassed grin, “I’m going up to my room, not yours.” Her laughter made his gaffe seem worthwhile. They all converged in the kitchen at around six, Shallie wearing black jeans, a fringed shirt and sandals. Carly was in new-looking jeans and a glittery tank top (which Cord was pretty sure belonged to Susan). She ended up driving to Bailey’s with Tina and Mitch, while Cord gave Shallie a ride. Their conversation continued on the theme of what she called “interspecies relationships.” Surprising how many stories they both knew. “Emma, more than anyone so far, helped me learn about animals, about how they relate to each other and how we relate to them,” she said with a smile he couldn’t miss even in the dim interior of the car.
Damn it, she was beautiful. And smart and charming and compassionate... Why hadn’t he been aware of that all those years ago? Well, because it was a lot of years ago. They were young, immature. He’d been in love with Reba and hardly aware of any other girl at the time. But he had to question the depth of his love for Reba, now that he realized how seductive the idea of the one who got away could feel with time. Their relationship, his and Reba’s, hadn’t come to a natural end and he’d probably given it more of a place in his heart than it really deserved. Back then, any possibility for him and Shallie never had a chance. His fault.
They arrived at Bailey’s to discover Tina, Mitch and family already there. Carly, too, of course. Brynne had arranged for two long tables to be pushed together to accommodate their group. Tina introduced Shallie to Elspeth and Aaron, the musician, to Caroline and her husband, Peter, and to Susan. Cord introduced her to Brynne, who was looking her usual elegant self, wearing a simple off-white shift, her midlength blond hair straight and glossy.
Eli, J.P. and Trooper sat down with them; the men and Shallie exchanged hugs, promising each other that they’d reconnect and share histories later on. The place was starting to get crowded. Miranda, their server, brought the women wine, while the men all ordered beer.
During their leisurely dinner, which Tina described as “pubbish,” Brynne made her usual point of coming by to bring Trooper his treat and enthusiastic praise, and he responded with equal enthusiasm.
Then she stopped abruptly, staring at Carly. “Oh, my God. You look just like—”
“Reba, yes. My mom.”
“Oh, my God! I knew Reba died, but I didn’t realize she had a daughter. It wasn’t mentioned in the obituary.”
“That’s because her asshole husband wrote it.”
“I’m so sorry about your loss. Our loss, too. Anyway, welcome. Hope we have a chance to talk soon. Catch up on...”
“My mom’s life?”
“Yes, I’d like that. She and I lost touch so long ago, and I happened to find out online that...” Brynne paused. “You must really miss her.”
Carly nodded, and Cord saw her rub her eyes with both hands. Standing up, she moved into Brynne’s waiting hug. Brynne hurried off and Cord found himself repeatedly glancing over at Shallie, who was sitting across from him, between Carly and Susan. He was relieved that she seemed to be enjoying herself as much as everyone else and told himself to stop looking at her. But as much as he tried, he couldn’t resist stealing glances at her.
At precisely eight, Aaron and his band started tuning up, then launched into the
ir first song, the Johnny Cash classic “Ring of Fire.” Their first set also included (ironically enough) “I’m a Long Gone Daddy” by Hank Williams and Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline song, “Girl from the North Country,” big crowd favorites. The band left the stage for a short break, to the accompaniment of delighted applause.
* * *
WHEN CORD LOOKED over at Shallie again, he noticed that her expression seemed reflective, even a little wistful. Despite the fact that she obviously had friends, an ex she had a cordial relationship with, a career, enough money—he sensed there was something missing. At least in the current version of her life, as there was in his... He couldn’t keep from hoping that her enjoyment tonight had something to do with his presence. Just like his enjoyment was tied to hers.
The next set began a few minutes later, and requests were invited. “‘I Walk the Line,’” Eli called out, and the band, as usual, gave Johnny Cash his due with their energetic and poignant rendition.
Susan Robbins raised her hand next. “How about some Patsy Cline?” And the band obliged with “Walkin’ after Midnight.”
Four or five other songs were performed, and finally Brynne spoke up, making the last request for this set. “Sorry. Can’t resist, but I’d like to hear ‘Friends in Low Places’ by Garth Brooks.”
When the song was over, Eli asked in a tone of mock innocence, “Hey, Brynne Bailey, was that a comment on your restaurant?”
“What do you think?” she scoffed. And the set ended with laughter.
After the break, Aaron invited audience members onstage to sing. One drunken cowboy—or would-be cowboy (if his “uniform” of jeans, vest, hat and boots was anything to judge by) requested “Streets of Laredo” and sang in a rather wobbly voice—just as wobbly as his walk. Aaron ended the guy’s performance early with a loud “Thank you, John,” and helped him off the stage.
Next was a young couple who sang Loretta Lynn’s “Van Lear Rose,” followed by an elderly man with a surprisingly robust voice. Gentleman Jim, as he was known, sang “Your Cheatin’ Heart.”
Country Strong--A Novel Page 11
