Oklahoma Christmas Blues

by Maggie Shayne

  Oklahoma Starshine

  You wouldn’t have known it to look at him, with three soused cowgirls hanging from his arms, but Joey McIntyre was bored. And charming these ladies into letting him drive them home was nothing more than his duty as part owner of the Long Branch, Big Falls Oklahoma’s most popular claim to fame, after the falls themselves. This year, though, the nearby Holiday Ranch was rapidly becoming another.

  The player piano was tinkling an 1890s version of “Joy to the World,” and hidden projectors beamed tiny illuminated images on every wall; Christmas trees, Santas and stars.

  A soft-handed sweetie stroked his face, or tried to, and managed to poke him in the eye. “You’re a real hero, giving us a ride home, Joey. You gonna come in for a nightcap?” Her knees bent and she sank floorward. Joe tightened his arm around her waist to hold her upright, and she beamed up at him, wafting beer breath that would’ve scared the jingle bells off a reindeer at twenty paces.

  “Yeah, Joe, you have to come in,” said the one on the other side. She was trying to make herself tall enough to nuzzle his neck, but kept tipping off her stilettos.

  The girls’ night out had taken a turn for the rowdy by the fifth or so round, and when one of the girls reached for her keys, Joey knew it was time to step in. It was times like these he wished Darryl Champlain hadn't quit his job as their bouncer-slash-head of security to go back to full-time songwriting.

  The third hayseed honey shuffled along behind him, her hands on his shoulders, head kind of bouncing along against his back because she could hardly hold it upright. She mumbled something but he wasn’t sure what.

  They all wore skin-tight jeans so low slung they gave even scrawny girls a muffin top, and blouses that showed varying amounts of cleavage.

  “I should’ve cut them off,” the new waitress said. “I should’ve cut them off at four rounds.” Her name was Heidi, and it fit. Blond hair and blue eyes so round she always looked either scared or surprised.

  “I think they had a head start before they got here,” Joey said. He didn’t want her to think she was in trouble. “It’s a bar. People are gonna drink. Will you check to see if we got all their crap from the table?”

  Nodding and gnawing her lip, Heidi hurried away. One of the girls listed left, taking him and the other two with her, but he managed to keep from hitting the floor, then got them all upright and back on track for the garland-draped batwing doors again.

  He looked back at the bar, not wanting to leave the place unattended, but as usual, his brother Jason was nowhere to be found. He was spending all his time at his fixer-upper outside of town or over at Sunny’s Bakery these days. Not much help running the saloon anymore. But he did spot Rob, taking a shift behind the bar while his country-fresh Kiley sat on a saddle shaped barstool, making doe eyes at him.

  He caught Rob’s eye, inclined his head, and his brother hopped over the bar and jogged up to him. “You uh, sure do have your hands full there, little brother.”


  “Yeah. Can you hold down the fort while I get them home?”

  “I can.” He assisted by taking Joey’s keys from his belt loop, and putting them into one of his hands, which he couldn’t move because it was holding up a drunk girl. A drunk girl who was smiling sloppily up at him and trying to bat her lashes. Looked more like she had something in her eyes. “You gonna be okay with all this?” Rob asked.

  “Lucy’s place is the closest. I’ll drop ‘em off there, make sure they get inside.”

  “And not go inside with them. Cause they’re drunk.”

  Joey sent him a look. “You think I’m immoral or just stupid?”

  Rob shrugged. “Hey, you’re the billionaire bachelor of Big Falls, pal. I’m just looking out for you.” He eyed the women, each of whom was pawing Joey in her own way. Suzy Jennings, Betty Lou’s niece, was petting his back like he was a cat. Geri Starbuck (no relation) was trying to lick his neck, but couldn’t reach.

  “Just help me get ‘em in the truck, huh, Rob?”

  Nodding, Rob turned toward the exit, just as a redhead came through the batwing doors, stopped about three feet in front of Joey and looked him right in the eyes.

  He was so surprised to see her that he let go of the girls on either side of him, and took a step toward her. All three cowgirls landed ass first on the hardwood floor.

  “You dropped something,” she said with a sarcastic lift of one brow.

  “Emily?”

  “Hello Joe. Haven’t changed much, I see.”

  “I don’t know what you…oh, this? No, this isn’t what you… Shoot, how the hell are you? It’s been what, four years?”

  “Something like that.”

  Rob cleared his throat and Joey remembered his brother’s presence, looked his way, saw him nod at the three on the floor as if to remind him of his unfinished business. But Rob’s new bride stepped in. “Rob and I will get these three home so you can catch up with your…friend.” Then she extended her hand. “Kiley McIntyre. Welcome to Big Falls.”

  Emily smiled, her face softening. She was still beautiful. More elegant than he remembered. Her cheekbones seemed more pronounced, her eyes, more deeply set than before. Then again, she’d only been twenty last time he’d seen her….

  Outside his father’s Texas mansion, in the grotto behind the waterfall, among the ferns and honeysuckle, beneath a midsummer moon.

  “Emily Hawkins,” she said. “Good to meet you, Kiley.” Then she added, “Hello Rob.”

  “Good to see you again, Em. How are you?”

  “Great. Wonderful.” Joey thought her eyes didn’t match her words, and while her lips tried to turn themselves upward, it wasn’t a smile. It was some kind of hidden pain, trying to impersonate one.

  Kiley helped the girls to their feet, one at a time. “You’re gonna ride in the back of the pickup. You’re gonna sit still and shut up and hold your vomit until we get you home. Understood?”

  They nodded at her, and no wonder. She was sweet and young and freckled, but she sounded more like Vidalia just then.

  “You puke in the truck, you’re cleaning it with your toothbrushes. So just don’t.” She took a girl’s arm in each hand and marched them out the door. The third was clawing at Joey’s jeans, trying to pull herself to her feet.

  Rob grabbed her under her arms and hauled her upright, then steered her toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.” He sent Emily a nod, glanced at Joe and said, “I’ll be back to help you close up.”

  He nodded, but wasn’t really paying attention. They all got out into the parking lot, and the place went quieter. Patrons stopped muttering about the spectacle and went back to their own drinks and conversations.

  For a minute he and Emily just stood there, staring at each other, and he felt the years fall away. He felt like they were kids again, all wrapped up in each other, hearts pounding with the all-consuming power of young love.

  She blushed, then she seemed to tear her eyes off him, taking a slow look around the saloon. “So you’re a bar owner now.”

  “Part owner, with Jason, Rob and Dad. Lately, though, it’s mostly just me.”

  “Whole family’s in town, then?”

  “Mom’s still in Texas. She got the place in the divorce. Remarried. She’s pretty happy.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?”

  Was her tone sharper just then? “Come on in, I’ll show you around.” He put a hand on her arm, and she shied away from it, but walked further inside.

  “You serve food, too?” she asked.

  He nodded and walked her between the pulled-back, red velvet curtains that marked out the border between barroom and dining room. An evergreen tree took up about four tables worth of space near the front windows, but it was worth it. It bore only twinkling multi-colored lights, at the moment, and filled the whole place with that pine-scented holiday feeling. The ornaments would come later.

  “We’ve got a chef that’ll make you weep,” he said, walking her slowly around the dining room. The
chairs were already up on top of the tables. “It’s really a touristy kind of place. We have dinner theater, bad guys and saloon girls, fake shoot-outs and poker games gone bad.” He nodded toward the source of the happy holiday music. “That’s an original player piano. Dad had it restored.”

  “Cute,” she said, but the tone didn’t match the word.

  He looked at her face to see her expression and got stuck on her eyes. Emily’s eyes had always been impenetrable, as dark green and shiny as wet lily pads. And they still were. “So the tourists don’t mind the alcoholic cowgirl hookers?”

  He frowned at her and wondered if life had turned her mean. “They’re not so bad, Em. Just some local girls, best friends their whole lives. Lucy’s getting married next weekend. I think tonight was a pre-bachelorette party bachelorette party.” He looked toward the big front windows, the parts not blocked by evergreen boughs, and said, “Tell you the truth, I think it was good for her to let off some steam. Wedding planning is stressful.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she said, which made him dart a quick look at her ring finger, left hand. Bare as ever. Why did that send a surge of knee-weakening relief through him?

  “I would.” He said it just to see her reaction, which was to look down real fast, and catch her bottom lip between her teeth. “Robby just married Kiley in September. I thought the Brand gals would kill each other before—”

  “Brand gals?”

  He pulled a couple of chairs off a table, set them upright. “Dad married Vidalia Brand, mother of five remarkable females. Turns out Vidalia was his first love, and one of Vidalia’s daughters is his.”

  “You have a sister?” she asked, sitting down and widening her eyes at the same time. Why did the question seem disproportionately important?

  “That I do. Her name’s Selene.” He hadn’t sat down yet. “You want a drink, or something to eat? Ned’s gone home, but there are always snacks around.”

  She crossed one leg over the other. Her jeans hugged her calves, then vanished into the tops of fake fur boots, all the rage with the local girls. “How’s your coffee?”

  “Best in town.” He shrugged. “Well, next to Sunny’s.” He went to the curtain, leaned into the barroom and caught Heidi’s eye. “Bring us a pot of coffee?”

  “Sure, boss.”

  “You okay out here for a few minutes?” he went on, giving the barroom a quick scan. Only about a dozen folks remained, half of them playing cards, the others looking pretty docile and content.

  “If I’m not, I’ll holler,” she said.

  He nodded and took his seat at the little round table for two. He could barely believe Emily was actually here. “I looked for you at your dad’s funeral,” he said. “We all did. Henry was…well he was like family to us. We loved him, you know.”

  “I saw you there,” she said. Then she shrugged. “I just couldn’t handle…people, you know? So I stayed out of sight until everyone else left. Said my goodbyes in private.”

  “It was a little more than that, though,” he said slowly. “You didn’t even call. Some stranger came by to tell us what happened. I rushed over to check on you, and you were just gone. I called and called––”

  
“I know.”

  “I was worried about you. Which, given the self-centered jerk I used to be, is saying something.”

  “Used to be?” she muttered, half under her breath. She wasn’t looking him in the eye.

  “Sorry, that’s not the answer we were looking for. The correct response was, ‘Aw, you weren’t all that bad.’ ” He was joking.

  But Em didn’t so much as crack a smile. There was something in her eyes, something big, and dark and inexpressibly sad. He reached across the table, laid his hand on top of hers. She jerked a little, like she wanted to pull it away, but then stilled again and just let her hand rest there, all stiff and twitchy and cold.

  “What brings you to Big Falls, Emily?”

  “What brought you here?” It was delivered as quick as an Ali counterpunch.

  Just then, Heidi came in with a tray and unloaded it onto the table between them. Then she poured from the big brown earthenware coffeepot, filling two man-sized mugs with longhorn skull logos.

  “Thanks, Heidi.”

  
“No problem.” She set the coffeepot on the table, between the matching cream and sugar holders. Then she took a lighter from her apron pocket and lit the candle inside its cactus-shaped globe made of green tinted glass. When she left, she freed the red velvet curtains from their tie backs. They fell together, silent as snow, muting the sounds from the barroom and leaving them in complete privacy.

  “Where were we?” he asked.

  “You were telling me why you moved here.”

  “Right. Well, long story short, Dad got sick. We thought we were gonna lose him. He came here to see the love of his life one last time and to build the Long Branch. I think it was supposed to be a legacy for Jason, Rob and me.”

  “He’s okay, though?” she asked.

  Joe nodded. “Wound up finding a daughter he never knew he had and a cure he never even expected.” He gazed past her briefly. “It was kind of miraculous the way it all went down. Christmastime and all.”

  Emily stopped with her coffee mug halfway to her lips, blinked three times, rapidly, then seemed to steady herself and took a sip. “That is good coffee,” she said. “So you came for your dad and just never left?”

  “There’s something about this town,” Joey said, gazing again toward the windows. “You’ll feel it, too, if you stay around here long enough. How long did you say you’re here for?”

  “I didn’t,” she said.

  He frowned at her, wondered why she was being so secretive. “Did you ever become a vet, like you always planned?”

  “You remember that.”

  “I remember everything.” Especially the night he’d caught her and her girlfriends using his father’s pool. They’d climbed the fence and sneaked in. He’d heard the splashing, gone out to investigate, and there she’d been. Emily, in a bikini, looking like a young man’s dream come true. He remembered the way the water was all beaded on her smooth skin, and the way the pool lights lit up her dark green eyes, and how he forgot his aquaphobia for a few seconds while he was staring at her.

  He was staring again. She was staring back, but she seemed to realize it and tugged her eyes away. “I did, actually,” she said, and her words jarred him out of the memory.

  It took him a minute to remember his question. Oh, the vet thing. And then her answer lit up in his brain and he said, “You did? That’s great, Em! So do you work for a clinic or—?”

  “I have my own practice,” she said.

  He sat back in his seat, blinking at her, impressed to his core. “Hell, I don’t know why I’m surprised. Everyone always knew you’d do amazing things with your life. Graduated high school early and already had an associate’s degree.”

  “All those college classes they offer in high school these days. It’s not that hard.”

  “You had your BA at eighteen. That’s hard. You must’ve sped through vet school at the speed of light, too.”

  She shrugged, lowered her eyes a little.

  “So where is it? Your practice?” He would love to see where she worked, he thought. To see what she’d built, what she’d done with her life since he’d seen her.

  But more than that, he wanted to know why she’d left him.

  “Anywhere I want.” She leaned back in her seat, and for the first time, seemed to relax a little bit. Sipping her coffee, clearly enjoying it, she went on. “It’s a mobile practice. I have this tricked-out van with everything I need inside. I call it the VetMobile.”

  
The way she said it, it rhymed with Batmobile, and he got it immediately, and grinned. “Do your patients shine a spotlight into the night sky when they need you?”


  “Yeah, with a vet-shaped silhouette in it.”

  “Va-va-voom, woman. If it’s shaped like this vet, it’s
gonna be a very confusing signal.” She rolled her eyes at his flattery, but he went right on. “Men will flock to the light, only to find…” He left it unfinished, to let her fill in the blanks.
She shrugged. “Anything from a mare about to foal to a constipated guinea pig.”

  “That’s not a real case,” he said.

  She lifted her brows and nodded, and he slapped his thigh and laughed. “That’s great, Emily. That’s really amazing. You did your father proud.”

  Her smile died. “I like to think so.”

  “So where’s your territory? Where is home for you these days?”

  “I’ve been in New Mexico for a while. I like it there.”

  He nodded. “I’ve been there. Beautiful country.”

  “It is. But it’s never felt like home to me.” She sat up a little straighter again. “This saloon ownership agrees with you, doesn’t it Joey?”

  He looked around the place, realized he was proud of it. “It does. Jason and Rob are both pulling out, bit by bit. They’ve got their own irons in the fire, and this isn’t their passion. Rob married Kiley, and they bought a ranch together. He raises Thoroughbreds and she caters to the local kids with special events for every holiday. Dad wants to retire, show his feisty bride the world. So I’m taking on more and more around here.”

  “And you resent it,” she guessed.

  He flinched when she said that, but had to admit, that was the guy he used to be. “I expected to resent it, when I first realized what was happening, but I don’t. I really don’t. I kind of like it, as a matter of fact. Lately, I keep getting ideas to expand the place, make it better.” He shrugged. “Who’d have thought?”

  “Yeah, who’d have thought?” She looked at him a little oddly for a long moment, and then quickly glanced at her phone. “God, we’ve been talking for an hour. I’ve gotta go.” She rose, slugged the rest of her coffee back and put the cup down.

  He got up, too. “Coffee’s on the house,” he said.

  “I pay my own way, Joey.” She fished a couple of singles out of her jeans and put them on the table. “It was…it was good to see you again.”

  “It was fantastic to see you,” he said, feeling almost desperate. She couldn’t just leave. “Are you um…do you have a room somewhere? I’ve got the whole second floor, if you need—”

  “No, I’m good.” She looked up at him, paused, nodded as if she’d made a decision. “I’m staying at the B and B.”

  “B and B?”

  “Yeah, um, Peabody’s? Out on Church Road?”

  
“Oh, the boarding house. Ida Mae’s place.” His spine sort of dissolved in relief. She wasn’t leaving…yet. “Okay, good. I’m glad you’re…sticking around for a while.”

  She nodded. “So…yeah. I’ll probably, you know, see you.”

  “Yeah, you will,” he said.

  He was holding open the curtain by then, and she turned and walked across the bar, through the batwing doors and then right out the bigger doors to the outside.

  Joey resisted the urge to jump up and click his heels. Hot damn, Emily Hawkins, right here in Big Falls.

  All of the sudden, Joey McIntyre was the furthest thing from bored.