Becca leaned down and put her other hand, the one that wasn’t on Raylen’s shoulder, on the table in front of Liz. “I’ll give you three times what the going price is for that land.”
“Why? Is there gold or oil under the topsoil?” Liz asked.
Becca stood up straight and laughed aloud. “It’s not what’s under the dirt or even on top of the dirt that I’m interested in. It’s what lives next door. See you around, Raylen.” She blew Raylen a kiss as she left, hips swaying and hand-tooled boots tapping on the wood floor.
Liz looked across the table at Raylen.
“What?” Raylen asked.
Liz shrugged. “Guess I’m sitting on a gold mine since you live next door. If I sold, would I owe you a commission?”
Raylen’s face registered shock. “Me?”
“Who else lives next door?”
“Dewar,” Raylen said.
“So is Becca interested in Dewar? Does Jasmine know?”
Raylen threw both hands up. “Jasmine isn’t Dewar’s girlfriend. Becca has been my best friend since grade school. We’re just good friends. She’s a handful and speaks her mind, but she’s just my friend.”
“So then it’s not a love triangle?”
Raylen stuttered and stammered, “A what?”
“Never mind. So why does she want my land?”
“She lives down close to Stoneburg on a cattle ranch. And since we’re friends, I guess she wants to live close to my family. Hell, I didn’t even know she was interested in buying land in Ringgold. Her daddy owns three fourths of Stoneburg,” he said.
“I see,” Liz said.
Becca didn’t really love Raylen. She put on a show for some strange reason, but she didn’t love him. Her hand had rested possessively on his shoulder, but her eyes did not glitter when she looked at him. They did not say that she could stretch him out on a plate like a Christmas ham and devour him like Liz could.
The image of Raylen without jeans, boots, and a shirt that strained at the arm seams made Liz so hot that her insides went all gushy and warm. She sipped ice cold sweet tea, but it didn’t help much when she shut her eyes and caught an imaginary glimpse of him from behind wearing nothing but his sweat-stained straw work hat. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and willed him to turn around in her vision, but he broke the spell when he spoke.
“Becca is my friend and she never likes…” he stopped himself before he said, “any of my girlfriends,” then he took a long sip of tea and said, “any of my other girl type friends. Tell me about you. So you grew up in a travel trailer. Why?”
Her eyes snapped open and she was only slightly amazed to see him still dressed and pushing back his dinner plate. “I was born a carnie. My grandparents were carnies. My mother and her sister are carnies even yet. Didn’t Uncle Haskell tell you?”
“Carnie? That a family name?”
Liz laughed. “Carnie as in carnival. Did you ever go to the carnival when it was in Bowie?”
Raylen cocked his head to one side. “Are you serious?”
“I am very serious. My grandparents owned the carnival. When Nanna died, Poppa, that’s my grandfather, bought a small trailer to live in and gave it to his daughters since Uncle Haskell didn’t want any part of that kind of life. He parked it on their land out in west Texas, not far from Amarillo, but he refuses to take the wheels off or skirt the thing. It’s where we winter from the end of November until the first of March. We do maintenance, paint, grease, and whatever else is needed to put the show back on the road in the spring. Each year there’s evidence that’s Grandpa is growing roots, but he’ll never admit it. The carnival was doing a gig in Jefferson, Texas, when Mother had me, so I’ve truly been a carnie all my life. If you came to the carnival in Bowie when you were a little boy, our paths have probably crossed in the past.”
Raylen nodded. He’d thought his older brother, Rye, was crazy when he fell hard and fast for Austin, a big city girl with a big city job. There was no way Austin would ever leave everything she’d worked toward her entire life and move to tiny little Terral, Oklahoma, to run a watermelon farm. But Austin had roots. Liz had never had any at all, so chances of her falling for a deeply rooted rancher were slim and none.
“Haskell never showed interest in the carnival?” Raylen asked.
Liz smiled. “It was a sore spot between him and his sisters. One is my mother and the other is my aunt.”
“Why?” Raylen asked.
“Uncle Haskell wanted to settle down when he met Aunt Sara. He left the carnival and bought that piece of property, then worked for a company in Nocona until they could make the ranch pay its way. They wanted a house full of kids, but Aunt Sara couldn’t have any. I barely remember her. She died when I was about five, but she always came to the carnival in Bowie and brought me homemade cookies.”
Raylen finished his dinner and sipped sweet tea. “I was eight when Miss Sara died. It was one of the first funerals I went to. I don’t remember seeing you there.”
“Aunt Tressa and Poppa came. Mother kept the carnival going.”
“How did you go to school?” he asked.
“I didn’t. Aunt Tressa and Momma homeschooled me just like their momma did them. I got my associate’s degree in business online before my sixteenth birthday. Momma said I could stay off the carnival rounds a couple of years and get my bachelor’s degree, but I didn’t want to.”
“So you ran the business end of the carnival?”
Liz shook her head. “I’m not strong enough to wrestle that from Aunt Tressa. She’s the financial head. I’m Madam Lizelle, The Great Drabami.”
“The great what?”
“Drabami. It’s a gypsy word for fortune-teller. I tell fortunes, read your palm, lay out the cards, or look into the big crystal ball, and…” She took a deep breath. Might was well spit it all out and hold nothing back.
“And what?” Raylen asked.
“I belly dance,” she said.
Raylen kept eating and didn’t answer.
Liz wondered if he hadn’t heard her before he finally said something.
“You are waiting for me to bite. I’m not going to. You’re not going to catch me with that story.” He grinned.
“It’s the truth. Throw your palm out here.”
Raylen wiped his hand on his jean leg and flipped it out on the table. She picked it up with her left hand and cradled it in her right. She’d held men’s hands in hers since she was sixteen when she did her first reading, but nothing prepared her for the sparks that danced around the café when she traced the curve of his lifeline from the middle of his wrist around his thumb.
“You will have a long and productive life, Raylen O’Donnell. You will have one successful marriage and fate will play a big part in your choice of a partner.” She almost stopped there because her mother had read her palm with the same words not a week before, but she gently traced another line and said, “You let your head rule and not your heart, but that will change. Don’t be afraid. It’s in your future and you will fear giving up control, but in the end you will see the wisdom in allowing love to come into your heart.”
He pulled his hand back with a jerk. “That sounds like a bunch of hocus-pocus to me. So are you puttin’ in a fortune tellin’ shop in Ringgold?”
“Hell, no! I’m going to work for Jasmine starting tomorrow mornin’,” she said.
He was careful to look at her full lips and not her black eyes. “I still think you are pulling my leg about that fortune tellin’ business, but I do believe you about going to work for Jasmine. I’m glad. She needs help and she’s my friend. You’ll like working with her. Well, I’ve got to get back to work. See you around.”
“Come over sometime and I’ll get out the cards and do a real reading for you. I might even put on my costume and dance for you,” she said.
“Still not biting!” He waved over his shoulder.
She finished her tea and tossed a couple of bills on the table for a tip. She’d planned to grab a h
amburger at the Dairy Queen and hit Walmart for supplies when she left Ringgold that morning. But she’d seen the café on the west side of the highway as she came into town, and there were two police cars as well as dozens of trucks in the parking lot. Any place where ranchers and police both ate had to be good, and she had not been disappointed. Besides, she’d just had lunch with Raylen.
She fished her phone from her purse and punched in the first number on speed dial. Blaze picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, so was I right? Are you on your way home?” he asked.
“Hell, no, you weren’t right and you had no right to yell at me. But I couldn’t wait for you to stop sulking to tell you about Raylen.” She laughed and went on to tell him about Raylen being there and the past two days. “And I’ve got a job starting in the morning.”
“You won’t last,” Blaze said. “Some people are born to be still. Others to travel. Me and you are travelers, sweetheart.”
“Want to bet?” she asked.
“No, I don’t want to take your money. You’re goin’ to need it to buy a trailer.”
“I’m hanging up on that note. Good-bye, Blaze,” she said.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.
A warm wind blew up from the south, swirling leaves around her truck tires. Black birds hopped around in search of free food but found very little. Liz wished she’d tucked the leftover corn bread into her purse to give them. Next time she’d remember that they were there.
She opened the door to the Silverado truck and slid into the driver’s seat. She put in a Christmas CD called Now That’s What I Call a Country Christmas that she’d gotten the year before. Kellie Pickler made Liz smile when she sang “Santa Baby” and talked about her Christmas list. Liz’s list wasn’t long. Maybe, just maybe, Santa would have time to throw that last item in the sleigh and she’d get her cowboy by Christmas.
She’d gone through the house and made a list of household items along with dog food, cat food, and laundry detergent. It would be strange to wash clothes at home. Monday morning was wash time in their carnival business. The crew tore down the carnival, got the animals into the trucks, and got everything ready to roll to the next location. Those who weren’t busy with that job used the time to visit the local coin operated laundry. Tuesday and Wednesday were travel days, with the hopes of arriving at their next gig sometime before dark on Wednesday. From the time they pulled into the parking lot, pasture, or wherever they were paid to set up, a flurry of activity took place to get things ready for the opening night, which was usually Thursday. Then it was nonstop work until Sunday evening when they turned off the lights and started tearing down again.
Laundry day was the day that Liz had time to look through magazines. Even if they were years old, she loved poring over the pictures of the insides of houses, especially the before and after ones. Now she had a house of her own and she could redo it any way she wanted. But other than moving around the furniture, she wasn’t sure she wanted to do anything at all to the house.
She talked to herself as she drove. “Nothing other than decorate it for Christmas with twinkling lights and lots of stuff. Plain old Christmas stuff that I can keep from one year to the next. I don’t care if I have a whole room full of it. Right now there are two empty bedrooms and I can store it all there.”
Walmart was all the way across town, but she wasn’t in a big hurry so she drove slowly, taking a long look at the storefronts. She’d been in Bowie once a year ever since she was born. She knew where the grocery store was located, right along with Walmart, the old location and the new one, the laundry, and the Dairy Queen. Aside from that, until that day, nothing else mattered. But now she noticed a couple of furniture stores, a western wear store, banks, and several other places that looked interesting.
She snagged a parking place close to the door and checked the price of gas. It was two cents cheaper at the place next to Walmart than in town so she made a mental note to fill up before she left town. Tomorrow, she’d get up early and go to work at Jasmine’s Chicken Fried café, but that afternoon she took her time in the store, looking at the new fall shirts and jackets before she started filling her cart with items from her list.
She didn’t even see Becca until their carts came within an inch of crashing together as she rounded the end of an aisle and came face-to-face with her.
“Well, hello again, Libby,” Becca said.
“It’s Liz, not Libby. And hello to you,” Liz said.
Becca leaned on her overloaded cart filled with large bags of dog food. “So you all moved into Haskell’s place?”
Liz pushed her cart to one side. “Yes, I am. It was nice seeing you again, Becca.”
Becca reached out and grabbed the side of the cart. “Sure you don’t want to sell?”
Liz shook her head. “I’m very sure. It’s not even mine until spring. Uncle Haskell is letting me live there, but I still have the option of changing my mind.”
“And if you stay?” Becca asked.
“Then it’s my property,” Liz said.
Blaze would like Becca for sure. He tended to go for women with blond hair and green eyes, and he really liked tall, tough women who dressed like Becca. Blaze and Becca… it even sounded good together. She fit all the criteria, but Blaze didn’t stick with anyone more than a week or two, so the bubble in her imagination about Becca running off to help in a carnival burst with a loud bang.
“So what kind of work do you do?” Becca asked.
Becca was being downright nosy and it didn’t sit well with Liz, who was tempted to blurt out her whole life story just to watch Becca’s jaw hit the floor.
“Right now I’m going to work as a waitress at the Chicken Fried café for Jasmine. I start work in the morning,” Liz answered.
“How long have you known Raylen?” Becca asked.
Now we get to the real reason she’s created this cart wreck in the middle of the store. I would do the same thing for Blaze.
“If you count from the first time we met, about fifteen years. But I’d only seen him twice before I moved into Uncle Haskell’s house,” Liz said.
Aunt Tressa’s advice was loud and clear in her mind. Keep a poker face and don’t give away jack shit. Watch their expressions and you’ll learn enough to give you a good reading.
Becca cocked her head to one side and frowned. Confusion. Disbelief.
Liz turned the tables and watched Becca’s expressions. “So you went to school with him and you have always lived in this area?”
“That’s right. Raylen and I have roots that go deep,” Becca said. At the mention of his name her eyes should have lit up like a tilt-a-whirl, but they didn’t. Her mouth said words; her eyes didn’t back them up.
“Well, I’d better be going. I’ve got a ton of work to do before work time tomorrow morning,” Liz said.
Becca didn’t move her cart.
“Waitress, huh?” She smiled again. Pure happiness. Evidently she figured Raylen would never be interested in a waitress.
“That’s right. You ever eat at Chicken Fried?” Liz asked.
“Oh, yeah. Love Jasmine’s food. She has chocolate cream pie on Friday, so that’s my regular day. Raylen loves it. He and Dewar usually drop by on that day. Raylen is a chicken fried steak guy and Dewar likes Jasmine’s double cheeseburgers,” Becca said.
Happiness brings about confidence, Aunt Tressa said. Confidence loosens the tongue, and that’s when you keep your mouth shut and listen.
Liz nodded. “Maybe I’ll see you there at the end of the week, then.”
An upward tilt of the chin said she’d won the fight. “Oh, I’m sure you will. Raylen and I eat there pretty often.”
Liz pushed her cart to the right and disappeared around the end of the next aisle as quickly as possible.
“Well, hello,” Colleen said.
Liz flashed a brilliant smile but inside she was groaning. All she did was eat lunch with Raylen. It wasn’t even a date. She’d paid for her own dinn
er and simply sat with him. Why did she feel like she was being punished?
Colleen studied her like she was a bug under a microscope. “I hear you had lunch with my brother.”
Liz tried to keep a blank expression like she’d been taught, but it was impossible.
Colleen shrugged. “He called to tell me to pick up a few things since I’m already here.”
“Well, rats! If I’d known you were shopping for the neighborhood, I’d have called you with my list,” Liz teased.
Colleen shook her head. “It’s only because he’s my brother that he can weasel me into getting him dish soap and a bag of potatoes. Anything more and he’d be in here himself.”
“Well, I’ve got to get back to the pet aisle. See you around,” Liz said.
“You take that job at Jasmine’s place?” Colleen asked.
Liz nodded.
“You always been a waitress?”
“Of sorts.”
“Where?” Colleen asked.
“All over the state of Texas, some in Oklahoma, and over in Arkansas. We traveled a lot.” Liz pushed her cart past Colleen’s and hurried to the back of the store.
Her phone rang when she was safely hidden in the aisle with the pet food. She dug it out of her purse, saw that it was her mother, and pushed the button to answer it.
“Hello, Momma,” she said.
“We’re on the move. Next stop is Bells, Texas. You always liked that little town. Why don’t you meet us there and give up this notion of living like the rest of the world?”
“After only two days? No, thank you. Besides, I’ve got a job. I’m going to work at the Chicken Fried café in the morning.” Liz picked up a dozen cans of fancy cat food and put them in her cart.
“Doing what?” Marva Jo asked.
“Waitress for minimum wage,” Liz told her.
Marva Jo laughed so loud that Liz held the phone out from her ear.
“What’s so funny?”
Marva hiccupped. “Now I know you’ll come home to the carnival where you belong. You doing waitress work… girl, you haven’t worked for that kind of money since you were fourteen. I couldn’t have asked for a better job to teach you a lesson.”
Darn Good Cowboy Christmas Page 5
