Daisies in the Canyon

by Brown, Carolyn

  Abby’s head bobbed up and down. If she’d been that pissy to any one of her training officers in the military, she’d have spent time cleaning the bathrooms with a toothbrush. She deserved the dressing-down, even in front of the other two, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

  “You’re right, Rusty. That was rude and disrespectful. It won’t happen again,” she said.

  “I’ll show them how to get things changed,” Cooper said. “Want me to plow a couple of circles around the fire?”

  “No, I want Abby to do that,” Rusty said.

  “Punishment,” Shiloh said under her breath as they headed toward the tractor.

  “I deserve it,” Abby said.

  “Then I’ll ride with her and teach her the method.” Cooper jogged ahead of them.

  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you, Bonnie?” he said when he reached the tractor.

  “Couple of times on an older tractor. Not much difference, though.”

  “It’s pretty simple. Just unhitch, push the blade out of the way. Here, Abby, help me,” he said.

  “How much does this thing weigh?” she asked.

  “Somewhere around a hundred and fifty pounds. Too heavy for you?”

  “No, I can do it.” She bent her knees and on Cooper’s count to three, they picked it up and moved it a few feet away from the tractor.

  Cooper was close enough that every burst of breeze brought the remnants of his shaving lotion to her, but not so close that their bodies or hands touched. Still, the air crackled around them like it does just before a storm and she had to remind herself that he was there to help as a neighbor and Rusty’s friend. He hadn’t jumped the fence for her.

  “Now, Bonnie, hop back in that tractor seat, turn it around, and back it right up to the plow attachment beside the truck,” he said.

  Without a word she scrambled back up into the tractor and eased it toward the plow. Cooper jogged over in that direction and motioned with his hand until she was close enough, then he put up a palm.

  “Good job,” he said. “Abby, we’ll have to get it lined up, but she did well enough that we’ll only have to move it about six inches to the left. It weighs a little less than the box blade.”

  Abby picked up one end and he got a hold of the other and together they lined it up so it could be attached. Cooper didn’t tell her she’d done a good job like he had Bonnie, but that was okay. The way he squeezed her hand when they got the thing fastened said that he approved.

  Bonnie was back on the ground in a minute, everywhere at once, helping get the plow situated. “So how many times do I plow around the bonfire?”

  “Rusty says I have to do it,” Abby said.

  “She’s being punished.” Shiloh leaned against the tractor tire and watched the procedure carefully.

  “What for?”

  “Insubordination, and I deserve it,” Abby said. “I was being a smart-ass and I got called down for it.”

  “Takes a big person to take correction,” Cooper said.

  “Takes a foolish person to need it,” Abby said.

  “Is that a quote?” Bonnie asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Straight from my mama,” Abby answered.

  “Okay, Abby, you take the driver’s seat and I’ll get in the passenger’s side,” Cooper said.

  “What is going on between you and Cooper? There’s definite vibes every time he’s around,” Bonnie whispered when he circled around the back side of the tractor.

  “I’m not sure. It’s complicated,” Abby whispered back.

  “I bet it is.” Bonnie nodded.

  “Ever driven one of these before?” Cooper asked when she was settled.

  “Not exactly, but I reckon if I can learn to drive a tank, I can learn this thing,” she answered.

  She put her hand on the gear stick and he covered it with his. Her first reaction was to jerk it free, but she took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was a driving lesson not a romantic episode. And yet, there was that sizzle that set her insides to yearning for the satisfaction that only Cooper could deliver.

  “Not yet,” he said. “First make sure the PTO—or power takeoff—is on one, because you are pulling a plow, not pushing a box blade. That’s the lever over there to your left.” He removed his hand and pointed. “It’s on one right now, but you want to check it every time and adjust it according to the job. Now, see that lever right there. It’s got a high and a low range. High is for when you are driving the tractor home in the evening. You want low range when you are plowing the field.”

  “Okay, now what?”

  “Ever driven a stick-shift vehicle? Maybe one with a trailer on the back?”

  “Yes, I have in the army.”

  “Good, then the rest is pretty much like that. You’ve got four forward gears and a reverse. You’ll probably want to work in first or second, and remember you are never shifting when you are on the move.”

  It took every bit of her concentration to think about what he was saying.

  “Repeat all that back to me,” he said.

  “This one goes to one when we are plowing. This one is on low and keep it in first or second gear because we want to go slow.”

  “And use the clutch,” he said. “Now it’s time to go.”

  She took a deep breath, clutched, and put her hand on the gear stick. It sounded like she was tearing the thing apart and she looked over at Cooper.

  “Clutch is tight. Push it all the way to the floor to engage the damn thing,” he said.

  She did and the noise stopped. Everything was in place, so she shifted her foot to the gas pedal and they took off so fast that Cooper was thrown backward.

  “Slow down. We’re going to plow, not run a race,” he said.

  She pulled her foot back a little. “Like this?”

  “Yes, now drop the plow with that lever right there,” he said.

  It didn’t take long to make two rows around the brush pile, but it was a hell of a lot harder than it looked and she was damn glad that Cooper had showed her the ropes. Instead of looking like a perfect square when she finished, it resembled a child’s drawing of a circle.

  “Now drive the tractor over there on the other side of the truck and park it. Remember to clutch when you put it out of gear,” Cooper said. “And Abby, we need to talk about this thing between us.”

  “Right now?”

  “No, but soon.”

  “I told you it would be awkward,” she said.

  “But that’s just the point. It’s not,” he told her.

  “And that makes it awkward, right?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so, but it’s definitely something we need to discuss. Alone. With more than five minutes to spare.”

  “Okay, then.” She opened the door. She looked forward to talking to him and yet dreaded it at the same time. The last time they were alone, they’d gotten themselves into this situation. She couldn’t even control her thoughts now, so it would be a devil of a job to control her actions if they were alone again.

  “You’ll get better with practice. I should’ve told you that clutch was tight,” Bonnie said the minute Abby’s feet were on the ground.

  Abby wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. “How’d you know so much about this?”

  “Told you before, my mama’s folks had a little farm down in the holler. Grandpa taught me to drive a tractor when I was so young that I had to sit on two pillows. My first plowin’ job didn’t look a bit better than that.”

  So Bonnie wouldn’t be quitting the race, not when she was more qualified than either of the other two sisters. But that did not mean Abby couldn’t learn. Before spring her plowing would be so sharp that she could write messages in the red dirt that could be seen from satellites.

  “Since we have to be out here to watch th
e fires, I packed a picnic,” Shiloh said. “I brought leftover roast beef sandwiches, chips, brownies, and a gallon of sweet tea. It’s in the truck, so when the fire is lit we could have a tailgate party.”

  “Bless your heart,” Rusty said.

  “I brought stuff to make s’mores,” Abby said.

  “I brought one hell of a healthy appetite.” Bonnie laughed.

  “Looks like you hardworkin’ ranchin’ ladies thought of everything, and we thank you,” Rusty said.

  Cooper had gotten out of the tractor on the other side and smiled as he passed by her on the way to the tailgate supper. Her breath caught with a hitch in her chest. Just watching him walk sent desire spiraling. It wasn’t a damn bit fair, but there it was right in front of her and it couldn’t be denied. She could attribute it to funeral nerves, to physical attraction, to lots of things, but it still shouldn’t have happened. Even if she’d wanted it to and even if she wanted it to happen again—like in the next five minutes.

  Shiloh brought out her loaded paper sack and a roll of paper towels. Bonnie carried the gallon jug of iced sweet tea and five plastic cups and Abby picked up the small sack she’d shoved the s’mores items into. While they set up on the old truck’s tailgate, the two cowboys lit up the brush piles. In minutes flames reached for the top of the canyon and heat found its way to the tailgate party.

  Cooper grabbed three ziplock bags containing sandwiches and poured himself a glass of tea. He sat down on the cold ground, leaned back against the truck tire, and started eating.

  Rusty picked up two sandwiches, a bag of potato chips, and a glass of iced tea and sat down on the edge of the tailgate next to the brownies. “Got to protect my dessert here.”

  “We’re havin’ s’mores. Didn’t you hear Abby?” Bonnie asked.

  “I like those things just fine, but not as much as I like these brownies.” Rusty grinned.

  “Bring your sandwich over here, Abby. You can sit on the running board,” Cooper said.

  “I told you so,” Bonnie whispered.

  Abby shook her head at Bonnie. “You have a big imagination.”

  She rounded the end of the truck and slid down beside Cooper, keeping a foot of space between them. “For a chance to sit down, I’d latch on to Lucifer’s tail. Draggin’ brush is backbreaking work. Is all ranchin’ like this?”

  “Most of it. You ready to pack up your bags and go back to Galveston?” Cooper asked when she’d settled on the narrow ledge.

  “Not yet, but it’s tempting,” she answered.

  “Hey, Shiloh, this roast makes wonderful sandwiches,” he called.

  “Thank you.” The response came from the running board on the other side.

  “So,” Abby said softly, “you ready to talk?”

  “Not here,” he said.

  “What did you say, Abby?” Bonnie leaned around the end of the truck. “Were you askin’ me something?”

  “No, I was asking Cooper about his day at the sheriff’s office,” she said quickly.

  Cooper raised his voice so everyone could hear. “I was about to tell her what happened today. I lost a damn prisoner. We gave him yard duty, which means he was supposed to pick up trash and that kind of thing. And he walked off the courthouse lawn and disappeared.”

  “What was he in jail for?” Abby asked.

  “Drunk driving. I went out to the ranch where he’s a hired hand and they said he caught a ride, packed up his things, and was already headed back to Mexico. His cousin, a truck driver, runs a route from somewhere near El Paso to Amarillo, so they thought he caught a ride with him.”

  “That happen often?” Bonnie asked.

  “It’s the timing,” Rusty said. “It doesn’t look too good when this next year is an election year and there are rumors that Cooper’s deputy, Jim Westfall, is throwing his hat into the ring.”

  “How long is a term?” Shiloh asked.

  “Four years,” Cooper answered.

  “You want to take it on for another four years?” Abby asked.

  “Haven’t made up my mind, but I’d hate to lose due to mistakes in judgment.” Cooper changed the subject. “That’s burning fast out there. Y’all might get to go to the house by ten if it keeps on like this.”

  “Ten?” Shiloh groaned.

  “That’s better than midnight,” Rusty said.

  “Ready for s’mores?” Abby asked.

  “I’ll sharpen up five sticks,” Cooper answered. “You city girls know how to roast a marshmallow so it’s toasted on the outside and melted in the middle?”

  “Who are you callin’ a city girl, cowboy?” Bonnie teased.

  Cooper was the first one to get his cookie made and he held it out to Abby. When she reached for it, he shook his head. “No, ma’am, I don’t give my toys away. But you can have the first bite since you provided the stuff to make it.”

  She was very careful to bite off a corner without letting her lips touch his fingers. The sparks flying off the burning mesquite bushes wouldn’t be anything compared to the sizzle if that happened.

  Cooper had called the time just about right. The fires had burned down enough by ten o’clock that they could kick dirt over the ashes and call it a night.

  “Now what?” Bonnie asked. “Want me to drive the tractor back to the barn?”

  “No, it can stay here—we’ll plow the whole pasture tomorrow. It’s time to go home and get some rest. Tomorrow will be another long day,” Rusty said.

  “Good night, everyone,” Cooper said.

  “Thanks for the lesson,” Abby told him, wishing they had found a private moment to talk. Until they did, different ways that conversation could go would play through her mind on a continuous loop.

  “You are very welcome. You’re a quick study, Abby.” Cooper slipped something in her hand when he passed by on his way to the fence. She quickly tucked the piece of paper into her pocket and joined the others at the truck.

  Rusty dropped them at the house and went on to the bunkhouse. Abby made a mental note to walk back there sometime just to see where he did stay, but not tonight. As soon as she was in the house, she intended to call first shower and then fall into bed. Even a twenty-four-hour guard duty hadn’t worn her out like working out there in the fields all day long. She was so tired candy didn’t even sound good.

  “I’m showering right now,” she said as soon as they were in the house.

  “I want a bath,” Bonnie said. “Soon as you get finished in the shower, I’ll start it. When it’s done, Shiloh can get her shower while I’m in the tub. Organization is the key to getting to bed faster.”

  “What if I don’t want to be in the bathroom at the same time you are?” Shiloh asked.

  “Your choice. I’m calling second and I’m going to soak some of this grime off my body,” Bonnie said.

  Abby left them to their argument, gathered up her things from her room, and went straight for the bathroom. Ten minutes later she came out with a towel around her head and one around her body. She nodded at Bonnie, waiting in the hallway, and carried her dirty clothing toward the utility room, where she intended to start a load of laundry before she went to bed.

  She crammed all of her things into the washer, added detergent, and was about to shut the lid when she noticed a piece of paper on the top of her camo jacket.

  “Cooper’s note!” she mumbled as she grabbed for it.

  The only thing on it was a line of ten numbers, presumably his cell phone number, since he’d said they needed to talk. Strange as it was, they’d had sex, but neither of them had the other’s phone number. That had to be the most ass-backward way of doing things.

  She carried the number to her bedroom, where she dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and an army-green T-shirt, brushed her hair out, and sat down in the gold chair. The door squeaked when Martha pushed her way into the room. She cur
led up beside the recliner.

  “Too late to call a man?” Abby dropped her hand over the side and rubbed the dog’s ears. “It’s only ten o’clock. What do you think, Miz Martha?”

  The dog’s tail thumped against the floor.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Abby said.

  Her phone was on the table beside the chair, so she picked it up and only hesitated a second before pushing the buttons. It startled her when he picked up on the first ring.

  “I hoped you’d call tonight. Too tired to meet me at the cemetery?”

  “Right now?”

  “Or on your front porch?”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m at home, but I can be on your porch in two minutes if I jump the fence and about seven if I drive over,” he answered.

  “It’s cold and my hair is wet. We can talk in your truck,” she said.

  “I’ll bring it in dark,” he said.

  She smiled at the military lingo meaning he’d turn off the lights and coast into the driveway to avoid any noise. Not that he’d have to do that with all the music on and the shower running in the bathroom, but still, it was considerate of him.

  The truck was sitting beside hers when she reached the porch. She eased out the door with Martha right beside her and hurried across the cold ground, wearing her combat boots loosely laced and flopping on her feet.

  She hopped inside the truck, leaving Martha outside. The dog ducked her head and ambled back to the porch to wait.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “For what?” Cooper asked.

  “Martha came out with me. Now she has to wait in the cold.”

  Cooper’s smile lit up the cab of the truck. “You could have put her in the backseat. Sometimes Delores—that’s my grandpa’s dog—rides back there.”

  “I’ll remember that for next time,” she said. “You called this meeting, Cooper. What do we need to talk about?”

  “The fact that we got the cart before the horse.”

  “We sure did and it is making things weird. Do you have a girlfriend? If you do . . .”

  He put up a palm and quickly said, “No, I’m not involved with anyone. I haven’t dated in a year because I’ve been so busy. Did you ask because you have a boyfriend?”