Catching Calhoun

by Tina Leonard

  “Think about it,” Calhoun said, “but from the sound of things, you’d fit right in to Malfunction Junction.”

  “I have to go,” Olivia said suddenly. “They’re bringing Dad back in, and Marvella’s here with a bouquet of flowers.”

  “Ah. Beware the dragon bearing gifts,” Calhoun said.

  “That’s not how the expression goes,” Olivia told him.

  “Close enough,” he said. “Call me after you talk to the doctor. There’s no point in bringing the kids back to Lonely Hearts Station when they’re perfectly happy at the ranch. You can’t watch the kids while you’re at the hospital, anyway, and they’d be bored stiff. And worried. Jeez, Olivia, these kids are always nervous.”

  “I know.” She was a bit stung by that. “Calhoun, thanks. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  She hung up, staring at Marvella. “Thank you for coming to visit Dad.”

  “Actually, I came to talk to you, though I also brought these for the ole coot.”

  Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Ole coot?”

  Marvella took off her wide-brimmed, Sunday-special hat, carefully dusting the bright flowers off as she set it on the bed. “He is. He’s old, and he’s a real sonofa—” She stopped herself and looked at the empty bed. “So, he’s not dead, is he?”

  “No.” Olivia glared at Marvella. “He’s gone for some tests.”

  “Good.” Marvella appeared relieved. “I hated to think he might be turning up the daisies when we hadn’t had a chance to really talk.”

  “What do you need to talk to Dad about?”

  Marvella shrugged elegantly, perching on the bed, looking every inch the royal madam. “Old times. Good times. And proper goodbyes.”

  Olivia blinked. “What’s the point?”

  “What’s the point to you letting a Jefferson hang around?”

  Olivia raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “That’s none of your business. Calhoun has been very good to me and my kids.”

  Marvella laughed. “That’s the game,” she said, “and they play it so well.”

  “Look. Why have you really come here?”

  “To chat with the old man before he leaves town. I thought he’d visit me, but he didn’t, and so, as they say, the mountain must—”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to see you.”

  “He does. He’s just busy with his family, and he’s not certain how he’d be received. We had words a long time ago. I’d like to put the past to bed.”

  Olivia stared at her. “I’ll tell Dad you stopped by.”

  “Good.” Marvella rose from the bed. “Here’s a free piece of knowledge from me to you. Jefferson cowboys are the sexiest men on the planet. Their dad must have been a real piece of work, because there’s not a woman who can keep her panties on around them. I can’t catch them doing it, but I know my girls even slip them into my salon from time to time. They’re fun, they’re loose and they’re wild, and no woman can resist that. Don’t try to catch a stallion that can’t be broken.” She put her hat back on, setting it carefully on her curls.

  “Why the free advice?” Olivia asked.

  “Because you’re Barley’s daughter.” Marvella turned to look at her. “I never wanted to tell you this, because I thought one day he would tell you himself.” She took a deep breath. “You’re also my daughter.”

  Chapter Ten

  Olivia felt as if her world had fallen apart. Yet the expression on Marvella’s face told her she was telling the truth. “I don’t understand,” Olivia murmured.

  “We were married. We had you. My sister, Delilah, stole my husband, and I’ve never forgiven her for that,” Marvella said bitterly.

  Olivia frowned. “Dad’s never mentioned a woman named Delilah. I knew you and he had once been sweethearts, but he never mentioned another woman.”

  Marvella frowned. “Delilah wanted to steal you away from me. She never had any children of her own. In the end, we both lost you and Barley.”

  Olivia realized she was trembling and sat down on a chair. “I am telling you, Dad never mentioned he was married. I never knew who my mother was. Dad was all I ever had, so I never asked many questions. That’s why Minnie’s constant questions about everything always surprise me. She’s so different from me.”

  “Well,” Marvella said. “I don’t know what else to say, except that I hope the ole man is fine. Of course, I never got over him,” she confessed, her voice sad. “I’d like to kill him for dumping me that way. I should also say that you’ve turned out quite well.”

  “How did I end up with Dad?” Olivia could hear her voice shaking.

  “He took you back home to his ranch. He had the money, so he had the rights. Maybe deep inside myself I knew you’d be better off with him.”

  Olivia couldn’t understand why her heart wasn’t glad or relieved to discover this missing piece about herself. “I think you should go now.”

  “I will.” Marvella moved to the door. “You asked about the free advice. Let me just point out the obvious. If you got tight enough with Calhoun to get married, he’d be related to me, after a fashion. And I think you should know one thing—the Jeffersons may ride for me in the rodeo occasionally, for charity reasons or for the challenge, but there is no love lost between us. Honestly? The number one reason you’ll never win Calhoun…is me.”

  With that, Marvella swept from the room. Olivia gasped with pain, her mind racing. Why hadn’t her father ever told her?

  It all fell into place. They’d never performed the act in Lonely Hearts Station. This was a one-shot, never-look-back, going-out-on-top goodbye. Dad wanted Marvella to see him in all his glory before the curtain came down for the final time. Maybe he even wanted her to see how good he’d done raising their daughter alone.

  Her father was wheeled in and transferred to his bed.

  “Howdy,” he said. “Thanks for the flowers.”

  She looked at the blooms Marvella had left behind. “Enjoy,” she said.

  “Damn doctors. I want out of here.”

  “Soon, Dad, soon.” She couldn’t say anything more.

  He looked old and somehow fragile. Tired. She wanted to scream, wanted to force him to answer her questions, but he needed as little stress as possible.

  “Ms. Spinlove?” the doctor said.

  “Yes?”

  “A word, please.”

  She followed the doctor into the hall. “How is he?”

  “We won’t know the test results for a couple of days, but my preliminary diagnosis is that your father has a heart condition, brought on by wear and tear, and taking too little care for himself.”

  Tears brimmed around Olivia’s eyes.

  “He needs to be very careful,” the doctor continued. “Aggravating this is not a good thing. He needs to change his life significantly.”

  Olivia shook her head. “Did you tell him?”

  “I did. He cussed me and told me to butt out of his business. Said he had a daughter and two young grandkids to care for.”

  Olivia drew herself up straight. “No, he doesn’t,” she said sternly. “From now on, we’ll be taking care of ourselves.”

  FIVE MINUTES LATER, Olivia kissed her father goodbye, tucked him in and hurried outside. She dialed Calhoun on his cell phone. When he answered, she said, “I’ve just finished talking to the doctor. Where are you?”

  “We’re still at the DQ. Somebody’s kid here tried to imitate Bandera by catching M&M’s in his mouth, and somehow got one stuck up his nose. Now, I’m not sure how that can happen, but kids can do anything, I guess, and Archer’s about to perform the Jefferson on him.”

  “The Jefferson?”

  “Oh, yeah. We used to get things stuck up our noses all the time,” Calhoun said. “Well, it never happened to me, but pea gravel seemed to be the biggest culprit for my brothers.”

  “Eww.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, after a couple trips to the emergency room, we had the procedure down pat. He’s just gonna blow in the
child’s other nostril—”

  “Calhoun. That’s good, thanks. No more info, please.” Olivia grabbed a taxi at the curb to take her back to the motor home. “I’ll meet you there to get the kids.”

  “Going home? Dad getting out of the hospital?”

  “Too soon to tell. But I’m coming to get Kenny and Minnie, so don’t move.”

  “But—”

  Olivia hung up. Her intuition—that she and Calhoun didn’t belong together—had been right from the beginning. He could be habit-forming. The last thing she wanted was for him to know her secret. Even after such a short time in his company, she knew how much the brothers despised Marvella.

  Beware the dragon bearing gifts, he’d said.

  This time she’d been bearing a doozy.

  “OLIVIA,” CALHOUN SAID when she pulled up at the Dairy Queen, “slow down and talk to me. I want to know about your father.”

  “No,” she said definitively. “I’ve leaned on your kindness long enough.”

  He frowned. Her hair was wild, her eyes were wilder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Olivia gave him a blank look. “Kids, say goodbye to the Jeffersons and get in the truck.”

  He watched her closely as the kids said goodbye to all three of them, then got inside the truck as she asked.

  “Was it the M&M story?” he asked. “I swear, it came out just fine. The mother was entirely grateful. And your kids never dreamed of shoving any colorful round chocolates up their noses.”

  “No,” Olivia said. “Everything is fine. Thank you so much for all your help.”

  “Here’s the portrait,” Bandera said, carefully placing it in the truck bed. “Bro says it’s not finished, but he’d need more time to work on it. I think it’s pretty good, though.”

  Olivia allowed a small smile to cross her face. “It’s more than you should have done, Calhoun. Thank you.”

  And she got in the truck and left, the kids waving out the window to him.

  “Damn,” Archer said, “did a tornado just tear through here?”

  “That was weird,” Bandera agreed. “Even for a worried woman, she was knotted up good and tight.”

  “Yeah,” Calhoun said. “More skittish than ever.”

  “Don’t know if those flighty ones work out too well,” Archer opined. “I like ’em calm myself. ’Course, I like ’em best when there’s no kids involved, even though those were pretty sweet kids.”

  Bandera sighed. “You’re not the subject matter here. Olivia and Calhoun are.”

  “There is no Olivia and Calhoun,” Calhoun said. “Because unless I’m wrong, she just told me to buzz off.”

  “Did seem so,” Archer agreed. “Felt like the ole heave-ho to me. Don’t think you own a lasso long enough to rope that running filly.”

  “Maybe you should go after her,” Bandera suggested. “Ask her what her problem is.”

  Calhoun shook his head. “When a woman has her foot down on the gas pedal that hard, she doesn’t want to be asked any questions. C’mon, boys, I’ll follow you home.”

  Still, he stared into the distance after Olivia’s truck.

  Archer sighed. “Wienies never win.”

  Bandera put his boot up on the truck bumper. “Something blew her skirt up. Don’t think you quite had her locked down, bro.”

  Calhoun rubbed his chin. “Maybe the news was worse on her dad than she thought. He despises me, so maybe she figured not being friendly with me would help her dad get better.”

  “Yeah…” Archer crossed his arms and leaned against the truck. “Had you kissed her properly?”

  “And then some,” Calhoun said.

  “She seem happy about it?” Bandera asked.

  She always seemed happy when she was in his arms, Calhoun mused. “We got along fine that way.”

  “Then it’s something else.” Archer put on his wise face. “When you talked to her, before she called and said she was coming here, what did she say?”

  “She said she had to go, that Marvella had just come in with a bunch of flowers—”

  “There’s your answer,” Bandera said. “Anybody care to argue with me?”

  The three brothers looked at each other.

  “No,” Calhoun said slowly, “don’t think I would.” It all made sense.

  “Marvella told Olivia what a womanizer you are. She told her that Valentine was pregnant and Last wouldn’t marry her, that we’re irresponsible oafs with little-boy mentalities—” Archer began.

  “She knew all that,” Calhoun said, “and still she slept in my arms the other night at Barmaid’s Creek.”

  “I do love our reputation,” Bandera said cheerfully. “We’re like every father’s worst nightmare.”

  Calhoun shook his head. “It wasn’t the rep.”

  “Well, we won’t figure it out standing here,” Archer said. “I say we follow that speeding truck.”

  “Spying’s my favorite thing to do,” Bandera said. “Actually, my favorite thing to do is thwart Marvella, and I sense that’s going to play in here at some point. I can be patient and wait.”

  “I suspect Marvella did throw down the gauntlet,” Archer said. “Please do say you’re not having a wienie attack, Calhoun. We haven’t picked up any gaunt-lets lately, and besides, it’s just plain fun to torture Marvella.”

  “Nope, no wienie here,” Calhoun said, settling his hat on his head. “For the sake of those kids, I’m feeling like a winner.”

  Of course, it was more than that. What he wasn’t about to tell his brothers was the essence of what no man ever wanted to admit: he was falling in love.

  Despite all the reasons not to fall for Olivia Spinlove, he was pretty certain he needed her in his life.

  “That barrel-racing mama needs me,” he told his brothers.

  “Like a hemorrhoid,” Bandera said with a grin. “Let’s pony up.”

  AN HOUR LATER, from the comfort of the pavilion, they watched Olivia pack things in the motor home. Minnie and Kenny carried boxes and bags, and Olivia secured them wherever they belonged.

  “She’s leaving,” Calhoun said, his heart heavy. “Soon.”

  “Like ASAP,” Bandera agreed. “You’re gonna have to work fast if you want to catch her.”

  “But what would he do if he caught her?” Archer asked. “There’s so much baggage. Are you ready for that much baggage, Calhoun? Most of us travel pretty light. Sometimes we don’t even carry a suitcase. Did Last have a suitcase on his motorcycle? I doubt he did,” Archer said, answering his own question. “You will note that the greater our desire to leave emotional baggage behind, the lighter we pack. There is a direct correlation.”

  “So what does that say about all that stuff ’n gear the little lady’s got?” Bandera mused. “Motor home, trailer, truck, bags, boxes…I never saw so many belongings.”

  “Lot o’ problemos,” Archer said.

  “Both of you shut up,” Calhoun said. “There is no correlation between the size of your bag and your emotional receptivity or availability.”

  “Go talk to her,” Bandera said. “If you feel like you can handle her gear. More power to you. If not, leave her alone.” They watched Olivia run her hands through her hair tiredly, then sit on the trailer stoop with her kids. “Don’t mess with her unless you’re willing to go the distance, bro. That one’s traveling heavy.”

  Calhoun shook his head slowly, his eyes feasting hungrily on Olivia and her children. “I can paint myself into that picture just fine, thank you,” he said. “Watercolor, acrylics, oil—it doesn’t matter. I see us in any medium.”

  Archer squinted at the small family. “From nipples to ‘us.’ It’s almost too much to contemplate, and yet, so…so…Calhoun,” Archer said. “Not to get too personal here, but if you had to do a painting of Olivia, and you were going to do her nude—”

  “Watch out,” Calhoun growled.

  Archer cleared his throat. “Well, could you paint her breasts? Her…you know. Nipples? Your favorite bod
y part?”

  “Is a nipple a body part?” Bandera asked. “Isn’t it a part of the whole?”

  “Calhoun considers it in its own most special category,” Archer said. “There is an existential side to my questioning.”

  “Really?” Calhoun briefly took his eyes off Olivia. “Which is what?”

  “Have you seen them?” Archer asked defiantly.

  “I have not,” Calhoun said sternly. “She’s a lady.”

  “Well,” Archer said, folding his arms, “that tells the whole story. You’ve gone over the edge for a woman without caring what she looks like under her shirt.” Archer shook his head. “There’s only two ways this can end—either you marry her, or you say goodbye and remember the one woman you fell for with her shirt on.”

  Calhoun turned back to watch Olivia. “Everything about her is fine. She’s brave, and she’s fun. She’s cheerful, and she’s a good mother. She’s sexy. My pants stay on fire when I’m around her.”

  “And all that without ever seeing her naked. Boy, you’re going up in flames if you ever get with her,” Bandera said. “I’m convinced she’s the woman for you. Cover me, Archer, I’m going in.”

  “Wait!” Calhoun exclaimed, striding after his brothers as they approached the trailer.

  The kids saw the men first, running for them as fast as they could with delighted yells. Olivia didn’t get up from the stoop. She watched Calhoun approach without smiling.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “We were worried about you,” Calhoun said. “We didn’t know how you were going to pack up the motor home by yourself, or Gypsy, the kids and your dad. We wanted to make you an offer,” he said, with only a half-apologetic glance at his brothers. “Once your dad can travel, we think you should let us drive you home.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Olivia stared at Calhoun, only mildly aware that Archer and Bandera were leading her kids toward town. “Drive us home?”

  “Sure. Your dad can rest in the motor home. Archer’s the king of horses. He and Gypsy would get along fine. I’ll drive the motor home, and you can hang with your kids and take care of your dad.”