Chigger left a dirt smudge when she swatted a mosquito on her neck. "If someone could figure out a casserole dish to make from cow tongue cactus, they could make a fortune. You got any bright ideas about how to cook up cactus, Daisy?"
"Not me. How about you?"
"Well, if we can't cook the sumbitches maybe we could figure out a way to boil them down and use them to run car and truck engines. Save a hell of a lot on gas. Or if we could figure out a way to make mosquito repellent out of it, we could make a fortune." Chigger smashed another bug on her bare arm, leaving a dime-sized blood stain.
Jim Bob slung his right arm around her shoulders and drove with his left hand. "That's my girl. Ain't she the smartest thing you've ever seen?"
"I don't know. If it killed mosquitoes it might kill Chiggers and then she'd be in big trouble. What are we doing here?" Daisy finished the last sip of beer and looked up at Emmett McElroy's house.
"Fishin'," Chigger said innocently.
Jim Bob took a cell phone from the bib pocket of his overalls and poked numbers. "Hey, we're here. We're goin' on down to the pond. Got enough fishin' poles and worms for all of us so don't go tryin' to hunt up any of Uncle Emmett's. Bring him along. Seeing Chigger might sweeten him up the rest of the day."
Daisy poked Chigger in the arm. "Who is he talking to?"
"Shhh, he can't hear on that phone if there's noise around him," Chigger said.
"Well, then let the old codger sleep if he's too stubborn to leave the air conditioning." Jim Bob flipped the phone shut.
Chigger looked at Daisy. "He was talkin' to Jarod. He lets us fish in his pond and Jim Bob is askin' him if he wants to go with us."
"You did this on purpose. You are a bitch from hell," Daisy said.
Chigger winked. "You are one fickle friend. You just agreed with Jim Bob that I'm the smartest thing either of you ever saw."
"I did not agree with him. I didn't answer at all."
"That's agreeing. You didn't disagree."
Daisy looked down at her scuffed up cowboy boots, the worst pair in her closet. Her jean shorts were like Chigger's—cut off so short the pockets hung below the denim, only Daisy's had paint splotches on them as well as dirt and sweat. Her red cotton halter top was faded and speckled with paint too.
Chigger grinned. "If you don't like that cowboy then why does it matter that you look like shit?"
"Thank you so much," Daisy grumbled.
Jim Bob stomped the clutch and put the car in first gear. "Well, I think both of you are sexy as hell in them getups. Fish will come up to the top just to cop a look at the two prettiest women in the whole state."
Chigger kissed him on the cheek and whispered something in his ear that caused him to chuckle.
Daisy looked out the window and wished she'd shot them both with her sawed off shotgun. All that sweet talk and love cooped up in the cab of a truck when she couldn't shake a vision of Jarod from her mind was downright sinful.
Jim Bob parked the truck under a big oak tree, opened the door, and Chigger slid across the seat and under the steering wheel into his waiting arms. He kissed her so hard that Daisy blushed.
Chigger grinned at Daisy when the kiss ended. "Might as well stop poutin' and get out. Who knows, maybe you'll get a kiss today."
"You are really a bitch from hell," Daisy seethed as she got out and helped carry a couple of quilts and fishing gear to the enormous pond not a hundred feet away from the truck. A gentle breeze teased the tall grasses in the pasture and the white clouds dotted the broad expanse of blue sky above her head.
Chigger shook a quilt out and it floated down to the earth, wrinkle free. Jim Bob brought the coolers, one at a time, and set them on the quilt. Then he brought a CD player and a small black case and handed them to Chigger. She flipped through the case and found the CD she wanted, put it in the player, and cranked up music from Toby Keith. She had her hands above her head and was moving in time to the music by the time Jim Bob had a worm threaded on his hook.
Chigger motioned toward the extra rods. "Might as well bait a hook. We ain't goin' home until we catch supper or dark, whichever one comes first."
Daisy grabbed the extra quilt that Chigger had tossed to one side, threw it over her shoulder, picked up a rod and reel with one hand and a hand full of wiggling earth worms with the other, and circled the pond to the other side. She was at their mercy when it came to transportation, but she'd be damned if she'd be nice about it.
She laid the earth worms on the ground and they all immediately began to wiggle their way into the earth. She hurriedly tossed out her quilt, not giving a damn if it was wrinkle free or not, grabbed the worms, and shoved them into the zippered pocket on the outside of her purse, baited the hook, pressed the release button on the reel, and threw the line out into the pond.
"You goin' to pout all afternoon?" Chigger yelled when the music stopped.
Daisy nodded.
Chigger laughed.
She heard a truck in the distance and grimaced as Jarod parked his shiny white truck next to the old one.
"Hey, everyone. Looks like you're already set up," he called out. He wore bibbed overalls over a white gauze undershirt. The overalls were faded and worn, but that didn't make her feel a bit better about the way she looked.
He gathered up fishing equipment from the other side of the pond and slowly made his way to her quilt. In that getup she looked like Daisy from the old Dukes of Hazzard television show. The reaction his fickle body had to the sight of her standing there with one hip cocked out, sweat glistening on her body, and those long shapely legs made him damn glad he was wearing baggy overalls.
"Why are you pouting?" he asked.
"Who said I'm pouting?"
"Chigger did and said I was to come over here and make you laugh."
Daisy glared across the pond.
"Where's the bait?"
"In the zippered part of my purse," she said.
Jarod threw back his head and laughed. "What in the devil are they doing in your purse?"
It wasn't funny but his deep laughter was infectious. At first it was just a schoolgirl giggle and then it was a full-fledged laughter blending with his and floating on the wind across the pond.
"You did good," Chigger yelled.
Jarod gave her a thumb's up sign. "She's got worms in her purse," he shouted.
Chigger and Jim Bob both got tickled.
"I couldn't toss out the quilt and hold them both. When I put them down they started to wiggle back into the earth so I put them in my purse. You got a problem with that?" Daisy asked.
"No, ma'am," Jarod chuckled.
Music floated on the wind across the pond. Toby sang about getting on down to the main attraction with a little less talk and a lot more action. It was the hot wind heating up Daisy's body, or so she kept telling herself. But honesty prevailed after a few seconds and she admitted it was really Jarod's presence that had her sweating even more than normal. Damn, but he was sexy even in overalls and scuffed up boots.
He fished a worm from her purse, wound it around a hook, and flipped the line out into the pond. He stole long glances at her from behind his sunglasses. No makeup. Hair escaping her ponytail and sticking to her sweaty, dirt-smudged face. Shorts with paint speckles, and the bare minimum of a top that looked like Aunt Mavis' mop rag. And still she was beautiful.
"Didn't know you and Chigger were fishin' buddies?" he asked.
"She's my worst enemy," Daisy said.
"Then why are you spending your Sunday afternoon with her?"
"That's the six-million dollar question. How's Emmett?"
"I wanted to bring him along but he said Sunday was a day for resting and I was crazy to go out in the heat when we had good cold air in the house and fish in the freezer. Back when I was a kid he'd spend the whole day out in the heat. Didn't even have an air conditioned cab on his tractor. Come in covered in dirt and singing Hank Williams songs, grab Aunt Mavis around the waist and dance all over the kitchen
with her. Old age isn't for sissies. It's tough," Jarod said.
Daisy nodded. "He went down fast when Mavis died."
"You got older relatives like him?"
Daisy shook her head. "Nope. Momma died in a car wreck at the age of thirty-seven. Granny died when she was forty-five. My folks didn't live long enough to see if they'd be sissies or not."
"Your dad?" Jarod asked.
"Army. Died before I was born."
"I'm sorry. You all that's left?"
"You're lookin' at it except for one cousin up in Mena, Arkansas."
"I've got this big family up in Payne County, Oklahoma. Two brothers. Mom. Dad. Nieces. Nephews. Even two great nephews. All ranchin' folks," he said.
"So why are you here?"
"As in here today or here permanently?"
"Both."
"Aunt Mavis took a shine to me when I was a kid. She and Uncle Emmett didn't have children so they kind of adopted me. She wanted my dad to have this sorry excuse for a ranch and Uncle Emmett finally agreed to let me move in and help. I'm the only one of Dad's three sons without a wife and kids so it was easier for me to move in with him and help out," Jarod said.
"What makes it a sorry excuse for a ranch?" Daisy asked.
"I guess Aunt Mavis got too tired to make Uncle Emmett work at it a few years ago. It needs updating to be productive. The land is good for running cattle and making hay, but not if we don't control the mesquite. Good ranchin' requires a lot of hard work."
"What would you do different?"
"Windmills for one thing. Save a bunch of money if we harness the wind that blows down here all the time and use it for electricity to run the pumps for water and irrigation and that would raise the value of the ranch. We've been using them for a couple of years now. A donkey for another," he said.
She turned her head quickly. "A donkey?"
"Sure. They hate coyotes and mountain lions. They're nature's best damn protection for new calves in the world. Let something come into the pasture threatening the calves and the donkey will take care of it faster than you would with that sawed off shotgun."
"I know that but I figured you'd be one of those allbusiness types who wouldn't think about natural protection. Why wouldn't Emmett want to get one? They don't require much upkeep."
"It's not his idea and God forbid doing anything that wasn't his idea first," Jarod said.
"Hey, y'all want a beer?" Chigger called from the other side of the pond.
"Love one," Jarod said.
"Daisy?" she asked.
"I'm not talkin' to you but I'd like a beer," she said.
"Then come and get it. If you ain't talkin' to me then I'll be damned if I carry a beer over to you," she said.
"I'll go get a couple if you'll watch my rod," Jarod said.
Daisy blushed at the comment about watching his rod. She'd like to watch any part of him in any stage of dress or undress at any time of day or night. Rod, as some romance writers called it in her sexy romance books, thighs, butt, biceps, broad chest; she'd watch any or all of it.
Jarod had a beer in each hand and was halfway around the pond when Jim Bob started yelling, "I got a big one. I ain't peelin' potatoes tonight."
Before Daisy could ask what peeling potatoes had to do with catching a fish, Jarod's bobble went under.
Daisy grabbed his pole and yelled, "We got one over here too."
Jarod hollered as he picked up his speed. "Not we. That's my equipment."
"Well, get over here and pull it in or I'm claimin' it," Daisy said.
"Bet it's not as big as mine. If it was, Daisy would be out in the water by now," Jim Bob challenged.
Jarod set the beers on the pallet and reached for the rod and reel.
Their fingers brushed and Daisy forced herself not to jerk her hand back from the heat between them. Her blue eyes locked with his gray ones and he started forward, almost tasting the sweetness of the kiss, when the rod jumped in his hand. Right then he didn't give a damn if the biggest blasted catfish in all of Erath County was on the end of his line. He would have given it up for one of Daisy's kisses.
He fought the line but it was a chore to keep his mind on the fish when Daisy was so close. Beating Jim Bob wasn't the big issue anymore. Like those Norman Rockwell pictures of little boys trying to win little girls' favors, Jarod wanted to win the contest to show off for Daisy. If he couldn't feel her lips on his, then by damn he ought to catch the biggest fish. It was a poor second place and it confused him as to why he wanted to kiss her so much, but he damn sure did.
"Hey, look at this!" Jim Bob held up a catfish that easily weighed five pounds. "I'd say we're havin' a fish fry tonight. Jarod, you're on for the potatoes."
"Not if my fish is bigger than yours," Jarod yelled. The line grew so taut that Daisy thought it would break. The rod bent into an arc. Jarod gave the fish some line and let it run.
"Mercy, I feel like I'm deep sea fishing. This thing must be the moaf," he said.
"What is a moaf? Be careful, it's going to shake that hook out. You've got to reel him in," Daisy squealed.
"A moaf is the mother of all fish." Jarod reeled fast and the fish flopped five feet from the bank. The line went slack and the adrenaline rush left Daisy. It returned in a flash when the rod arced again and Jarod began reeling. She wrapped her hand over his on the rod without thinking. Jarod had to win just so she'd have one-up on Chigger for tricking her that day.
"Pull," Jarod said.
They jerked the rod back at the same time and a catfish flopped up on the bank. It flipped around desperately trying to find its way back into the water and to dislodge the hook, but Jarod grabbed it and held it up for the rivals across the pond to see.
"Ours is bigger," Daisy chanted.
Jarod grinned. She'd said "our" fish was bigger, not Jarod's, not mine, but ours. He liked the sound of that.
"Not until we measure it," Chigger yelled. "I'm not trusting you."
"You trusting me. That's the pot calling the kettle black, sister."
Jarod carried the fish around the pond and he and Jim Bob laid them out for measurements. Jarod's was six inches longer and about a pound heavier.
"Don't look so smug," Chigger said.
Daisy shrugged. "Payback."
"I'll teach you payback," Chigger said. "You're fightin' with the big girls now, honey."
"You girls stop spittin' at each other. Let's take 'em home and clean 'em up," Jim Bob said.
"Girls or fish?" Jarod asked, his eyes twinkling, making Daisy smile in spite of herself.
Daisy slapped his shoulder. "That was mean."
"I told you that you look like shit," Chigger said.
Jarod ogled Daisy. He looked long and hard at her from boot tips to the top of her dark hair. He wanted her, plain and simple. He couldn't have her, just as plain and simple.
"What are you lookin' at?" she snapped.
"Prettiest pile of shit I've ever seen." He grinned.
She folded her arms across her chest. "That's the most underhanded compliment I've ever heard."
"It ain't a compliment. It's a fact," Jarod said and turned to Jim Bob. "I'll check on Uncle Emmett then drive on over to your house. Be there before you get the first filleted and I'm talking about the fish," Jarod said.
"You bring Daisy with you. She's got to get her things gathered up," Chigger said to Jarod and then tapped Daisy on the shoulder. "Remember paybacks are hell."
Daisy took off in a fast jog around the pond, threw everything including her purse into the middle of the quilt, and gathered it up into a hobo type bag… but not fast enough. Jim Bob and Chigger were driving away by the time she jogged back to the other side. They had her bag in the back of his old work truck. Damn it all, anyway. If she did get a call she'd have to go to Jim Bob's place before she could go anywhere.
Jarod leaned against his truck. "Guess you are going with me."
Daisy was tongue-tied. Words simply would not go from her brain to her mouth. What s
he wanted to do was kick something, preferably Chigger, and cuss a blue streak, but she was totally speechless. One thing for absolute sure, Chigger was going to fry the next time she came into the Honky Tonk.
Jarod held the door for her. "Crawl on in here. At least I've got air conditioning. Can't imagine why Jim Bob brought that old work truck out today. His new club cab has all the bells and whistles." If he'd been the one picking Daisy up for a day of fishing, he'd damn sure have shown up in something nice. He imagined her sitting close to him, her hand on his thigh as he drove.
I Love This Bar Page 7
