You Can Have My Heart, but Don't Touch My Dog

by Dixie Cash

  “It ain’t bulls that was on my mind, sugar. I was remembering those three days we spent in that fancy Vegas hotel after I won that little contest the first time.”

  Quint had the money—and the scars—to show for his wins. The year of his first championship had been momentous for her as well as for Quint. That year had been her debut performance as a professional barrel racer.

  He ran his fingers down her arm. Her cheeks warmed. Goosebumps raised on her skin. Why was he affecting her this way? She stole a glance across the table at Edwina. She had never discussed details of her relationship with Quint with Edwina or anyone else.

  “Hah,” she said. “The National Finals isn’t exactly a little contest.

  “Back in those days, my body was in top shape and yours was, too. No broken bones, no sprains, no bumps and bruises. Plenty of energy. I could go all night. Remember that?”

  Oh, Jesus. Debbie Sue’s cheeks flamed. He was talking as if Edwina weren’t sitting across the table two feet away. Shit! Shut-up, Quint.

  He grinned like a monkey. “We didn’t come up for air or put on a stitch of clothes for three days and nights.”

  “Quint, stop it.” She slashed the air with a flat hand. “That train has left the station.”

  “Oh, yeah? Then why is your pulse fluttering in your throat? See? I notice those little things, darlin’.”

  Reflexively, Debbie Sue’s hand lifted and her palm flattened on her collar bone.

  “Look at me, Debbie Sue.”

  Everything inside her told her not to turn her head toward him, but she couldn’t resist. He was still a beautiful man—chiseled features, sky-blue eyes that constantly showed a twinkle, thick caramel-colored hair. Brad Pitt probably had no idea he had a doppelganger in Texas who was a world champion bull rider. And this evening, he smelled like a men’s cologne counter in a fancy department store.

  His eyes captured hers. “I’ve been wanting to say some things for a long time, Debbie Sue, but every time I’ve thought I had the chance, something always screwed it up.”

  “Oh, yeah? Probably that parade of buckle bunnies that’s always followed you around.”

  “For me, that week in Vegas was outstanding. I don’t think it’s ever been as sweet as those three days.”

  Damn him. He had always been able to skate right past anything that cast him in a bad light.

  “How about you?” he said. “You ever think about us? Is it still good with you and that long-legged cop?”

  “Sure is. He’s doing great, isn’t he, Ed?” A comment from Edwina would surely kill this embarrassing conversation.

  “He’s a captain in the Texas Rangers now, with a sterling reputation,” Edwina put in.

  Thank God Edwina had caught the cue.

  Quint didn’t even look at Edwina. His eyes were still locked on Debbie Sue. “Sure he is. But that doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. When y’all crawl in bed at night, does he make you scream like a banshee? The way I used to?”

  Debbie Sue’s cheeks turned to pure fire. Her face must be the color of a fire engine. “Cut it out, Quint. You’re wasting your time and embarrassing me in front of my friend.”

  “It was hot between us, darlin’. Women don’t forget that. And I haven’t forgotten it either.”

  Edwina cleared her throat with a loud rumble, climbed over the bench seat without stumbling and falling on her face and stalked away.

  “See what you’ve done?” Debbie Sue snapped. “Now I’m going to have to listen to a raft of shit from her all the way home.”

  “I want you back, Debbie Sue. I mean it. It was more than sex between us. It was spiritual. When ol’ Ace of Spades got the best of me that time, if I hadn’t known you were in that surgery waiting room, I might not have come back from that tunnel.”

  She well remembered that night in Denver. After a wild ride on a dangerous bull that had bucked him off, gored him and left him with a skull fracture and a broken femur, he had been close to death. During a long recovery, he had talked then about “going through the tunnel,” but knowing she wouldn’t be on the other side had made him come back. But that incident hadn’t made him a steady, loyal man. Nor had it cured his roving eye.

  “You had no idea I was there, Quint. They hauled you out of that arena unconscious.”

  “I admit it took me a few years and a few women to figure it out. But I finally did. No woman nowhere does it for me like you did. I know that now.”

  She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe it has nothing to do with me. Maybe you’ve finally grown up. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m a happily married woman. This conversation is nonsense.”

  “No, it isn’t. Listen to me now. Buddy Overstreet will never make a dime more than the state of Texas pays him. He’s not a money man. I made more last year than he’ll make in his whole fuckin’ life. And look at you. A beautiful woman like you wearing a Walmart dress—”

  “My dress did not come from Walmart, for your information. But so what if it did?”

  She had bought her dress at Target. But Quint wasn’t wrong about her life, she couldn’t keep from thinking. She and Buddy would never be rich. They still lived in an old house that had belonged to her grandparents and they didn’t even talk about living somewhere else.

  Quint continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “Standing on your feet all day in a chickenshit beauty shop in a shithole of a town. I’m a rich man, Debbie Sue. I’d dress you in beautiful clothes. Shower you with diamonds and rubies. A fine house, fine horses and fine wine. Anything your heart desires.”

  “You don’t get it, Quint. You never did. I wouldn’t care if Buddy were dead broke. I love him. And furthermore, he loves me. He’ll always fight for me. And he’s loyal. You cheated on me too many times.”

  “I’ve changed, Debbie Sue. Like you said, maybe I’ve grown up.”

  His tone had a ring of sincerity to it, which made this encounter even more frightening. If she could believe him, she didn’t know what she might or might not do. Quint had always had an uncanny ability to reach the deepest part of her and talk her into doing things no one else would ever be able to talk her into. She had to stop this. She pushed herself to her feet. “I’ve got to find Ed and get going. We’ve got customers tomorrow.”

  He sighed and stood with her, held her elbow as she stepped over the bench seat. She picked up her purse, hooked it on her shoulder gave him a lingering look. “Take care of yourself, Quint.”

  She turned away from him and walked toward the front of the restaurant, hoping like hell that Edwina was waiting for her there.

  “It’s good to see you, pretty girl,” he said behind her. “I’ll be seeing you again.”

  Debbie Sue didn’t look back. She did not want Quint to think she was affected by his sudden appearance or any of the things he had said. And the absolute, very last thing she wanted was for him to show up in Salt Lick.

  She found Edwina almost hidden at one end of the bar near the mechanical bull. “Let’s get out of here, Ed.”

  They rode in silence until they cleared the Midland city limits.

  Finally, Edwina said, “Well, are you gonna tell me what that was all about?”

  “It wasn’t about anything. Just Quint being Quint.”

  “I always figured you two were hot together. I can see both of you now. Ride ’em, cowgirl. Now, I ask you. Could he really go all night?”

  Debbie Sue’s whole head heated all the way to her hair follicles. Her hair might fall out completely. “I don’t remember.”

  “Hah. Pardon me if I think you’re lying.”

  “I just hope Buddy doesn’t find out he’s living in Midland.”

  “Oh, he’ll find out. Quint never was able to stay away from you if he was within shouting distance. If he’s been living back here up for two months, I’m surprised he hasn’t put in an appearance in Salt Lick already. My crystal ball tells me it’s just a matter of time before a whole new chapter will start up with him and you and Buddy.�
��

  Debbie Sue clenched her teeth and growled. “Really, Obi Wan?”

  “Really, Scarlett. I swear, girl, this is the stuff soap operas are made of. My God, half the women in Texas would crawl from here to Dallas to have the likes of Quint Matthews or Buddy Overstreet in love with them. But to have both of those guys chasing you around? Hm-hm-hm.”

  “Bite your tongue, Ed.”

  Edwina had the nerve to chuckle. “Hell, that long-legged cop might end up shooting the cheeky little fart after all. I can see the headlines now. Texas Ranger murders—”

  “Shut-up, Ed.”

  “He’s still a pretty bastard, I have to say. Not as pretty as Buddy, but not too many women would kick him outta bed. And he’s in great shape. That body of his does a pair of Cinch jeans and those custom-made shirts proud. He must still work out, huh.”

  “Edwina Perkins-Martin, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m gonna get out of this car.”

  Chapter 18

  A week passed. The end of October and cooler weather rolled around. Fall had definitely arrived. Sandi missed Waffle terribly. She missed him coming to wake her every morning with slobbery doggy kisses, missed his happy grin and wagging tail as she prepared his breakfast, missed his presence in LaBarkery. To compound her depressed feelings, almost every regular customer asked about him.

  Still, she had stuck to her busy routine. She put out pet sweaters and warm booties for sale, updated the pet Halloween costume display and created Halloween treats for her customers to hand out. She worked with her web designer on her website, made bulk Atomic Energizer and dozens of Barkies, Little Fidos and Mousekins to sell in LaBarkery and in general distracted herself from her favorite dog’s absence by showering attention on her other animals.

  On Tuesday, Juanita from We Love Animals called. “Betty Ann told me what happened in court. I can’t believe they let a cat come in. I’m so sorry, dear.”

  “Thanks for your thoughts, Juanita. I wasn’t surprised at the outcome.”

  “Got time to come by today? I’ve got a new little dog for you to look at.”

  “Oh, Juanita, I don’t want another dog right now.”

  “Oh, I understand. But she’s sure a pretty little thing. So white she looks like a snowball. And so much personality. Her name is Betsy. She looks like a Westie.”

  “Betsy the Westie? That’s too cute. I think there was once a doll called Betsy Wetsy.”

  Ignoring Sandi’s sarcasm, Juanita went on. “I’m sure she isn’t a purebred. That doesn’t matter anyway. The neighbors told me she’s been spayed, so she wouldn’t be a breeder.”

  Sandi recognized Juanita’s spiel. The woman could wear down a granite wall. Listening to her and eventually weakening against her verbal assault was how Sandi had ended up with the menagerie she presently had. “Does that mean she has to be groomed? I already pay to have Adolph groomed, you know. I can’t afford the additional expense.”

  “I understand, honey. I’m just telling you about her. Poor little thing. Her owners moved to Dallas and just left her roaming the neighborhood. No food, no water, no safe place to sleep. They didn’t even try to find her a new home.”

  “Oh, no! How mean.”

  “I know. One of the neighbors caught her trying to hide behind his air conditioner, poor little thing. She was filthy and starved and shaking all over. She’s too little to survive on her own. Since we’re a no-kill shelter, he brought her to us. Otherwise, she probably would’ve been picked up by the county.”

  Sandi mentally shook herself. She could not take on another pet at this moment. “Juanita, please. I just can’t. A new dog would not only take up more of the time that I don’t have and it would remind me that I don’t have Waffle anymore.”

  “Maybe you need a change of pace, darlin’. Or a change of pets, so to speak. We’ve got this darling little miniature pig that needs a home.”

  A vision of the huge hogs her grandparents had raised for meat passed through Sandi’s mind. “A pig? You’re kidding me. How big is it?”

  “About thirty pounds. Well, maybe forty or fifty. Bigger than a cat, smaller than Waffle.”

  “I’ve heard about those miniature pigs, Juanita. It could get to be a hundred pounds or even more.”

  “No, no. She won’t. She’s already four years old. Well, she might get a little bit bigger, but not that much.”

  Sandy was skeptical. She had read how people were sometimes duped into believing they were taking in a miniature pig that eventually grew to a full-size hog.

  “Her name is Bella,” Juanita continued, “after some character in a movie. She’s the sweetest little thing. She’s so pink and so affectionate. Housebroken, too. Uses a litter box. And you should see her in the bathtub. She loooves playing in the water.”

  Sandi had to admit she was curious, but she didn’t want to share her only bathtub with a pig, miniature or otherwise. At least she could bathe her dogs in her second bathroom’s walk-in shower. “She has to be bathed in the bathtub?”

  “Well, you’d want her to be clean. Pigs like water, you know.”

  The memory of the smells that accompanied Jake assailed Sandi as well as her more recent experience with skunk odor. A house pig was bound to be a dozen times worse. She took hold of herself and hardened her resolve to be strong. “I can’t, Juanita. My house hasn’t recovered from Jake yet. I don’t want another exotic animal that has to live inside and I don’t have a place for it outside.”

  “Oh, she couldn’t live outside anyway.”

  “Why did the owners get rid of her?”

  “They’re dumb kids. Thought a pet pig would be cool. They paid a thousand dollars for her. Can you believe that?”

  “Let me guess. The novelty wore off and they got tired of taking care of her.”

  Juanita released a big sigh. “Adopting a pig ain’t like adopting your basic dog or cat. A pig takes a commitment.”

  Anger spread through Sandi. “Typical,” she grumbled. “That’s behavior that produces unwanted animals and even abused animals, isn’t it? I’ll tell you something, Juanita. Since I’ve started fostering unwanted animals, I’ve lost a lot of respect for my fellow humans. I’m starting to believe that people who want a pet should be thoroughly screened to learn their motives for getting a pet and their qualifications for having one as well as their intentions for the future of the poor animals.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more. I feel the same way,” Juanita replied. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Just wanted to let you know about our new residents.”

  Sandi disconnected from the call in a state of aggravation. Now she wouldn’t be able to get a sweet little dog and a cute pig that couldn’t survive outdoors off her mind.

  And being aggravated took her thoughts to her nemesis, Nick Conway. She hadn’t heard one word from him about allowing her to visit Waffle or have him for a weekend. Should she call him and tell him it was her turn? Or should she just call the court and report him to the judge?

  “What does Juanita want you to adopt now?” Betty Ann asked.

  “Oh, she’s got a new dog. And a miniature pig. Do you want a pet pig?”

  “Hardly. Since I’ve been working in this store, thanks to you and Juanita, I’ve adopted two dogs and three cats. I live in a one-bedroom apartment. I absolutely cannot take any more animals.”

  “Then I guess you wouldn’t be interested in adopting a little dog that looks like a Westie.”

  Betty Ann’s interest was immediate. Her brow tented. “Aww, really? I adore those little dogs. They’re so cuuute.”

  “She’s a spayed female. Her name is Betsy. Juanita says she has a sweet personality.”

  “Hm. I should at least look at her, don’t you think? I mean, there are just so many unwanted animals and not enough people to take care of them. It’s so sad. How much more space would one more little dog take up? I think I’ll call Juanita.”

  “You’d better think about it, Betty Ann, before you commit. One th
ing I’ve learned—and you’ll have to learn it, too—you just can’t take every single animal. Juanita will unload a whole zoo on you if you don’t resist her.”

  Just then, before Sandi could launch a lecture about getting sucked in by Juanita and We Love Animals, her cell phone warbled. She checked the screen and that tremble that had become familiar passed through her midsection. “Oh. My. God. It’s Nick Conway.”

  “He’s a god all right,” Jessica put in. “A Greek god.”

  “It’s about time he got in touch with you,” Betty Ann said. “I was wondering when he was going to.”

  Instantly, Sandi’s mood shifted and she keyed into the call. “This is Sandi.”

  “Hey, how are you?”

  “I’m fine. Funny you should call. I was just thinking about Waffle, wondering when I was going to get to visit him.”

  “How about the weekend? We’re down in Salt Lick now, but we’re going up to Midland on Friday night. I’d like to show you around my place, let you see that I’ve got a good environment for a busy dog like Buster. A section of land is plenty of room for him to run and play.”

  A section of land. Those were the words that stuck in Sandi’s mind. She had no idea he had a whole 640 forty acres. Of course, in Texas, a section wasn’t much land, but compared to Sandi’s backyard, it was as big as another state. “Well, I—”

  “If it works for you, we could do it Saturday afternoon. Then Saturday evening, I could grill a couple of steaks. Harley furnishes me meat out of his private locker. I can bring up some choice ribeyes. It’s premium grass-fed beef. I can’t think of any restaurants where you’ll get better steaks than that.”

  “You don’t have to feed me. I could just come out and play with Waffle for a little while.”

  “Then who would I share these steaks with? My horses and those llamas would turn up their noses and Buster...that is, Waffle, has his own food.”

  Oh, wow. He had called Waffle by the name she had given their mutual dog. This could only be an effort on his part to get along with her. “Okay, I guess. I can bring a bottle of wine.” She grabbed a pen and a notepad. “You’ll have to give me directions to your place again. I don’t remember the route from when you gave it to me before.”