“I suppose.”
“Did you read the tattoos?”
“I always feel awkward about reading a man’s tattoos.”
“I feel the same way about reading a phrase written on the front of a woman’s shirt, especially when the words sort of bobble up and down.”
“What did the tattoos say?” she pressed.
“The one on his left arm says ‘John 3:16.’ On the right, it says ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life.’”
“Witnessing tattoos?”
“Little Coop made some mistakes early in life, but he won’t repeat them. He’s a good kid.”
“OK, you told me about the Rasmussens. How about you being ‘right,’ and who is Barbara?”
“Barbara was a lady in the church there in Colorado. Her husband had died in Nam, and she was raising two little girls by herself. She liked horses, so they lived out there in the mountains. She got some kind of pension from the army and she had this at-home job of sewing dog collars.”
“What kind of job?”
“You know, the thick nylon dog collars? They supplied the machine, sent her a huge box of parts, and she sewed them together. They paid by the piece. Anyway, she was a part of that little church. She was a sweet woman.”
“Does that mean that you and she were … eh …”
“No, there wasn’t any romantic interest, if that’s where you’re headed. The thought crossed my mind ever’ Sunday, but I was just putting together my business and working eighteen hours a day. On Sundays I would go to church, then sleep all afternoon, and start the week over again. She and Carol were pals. They were the children’s Sunday school teachers.”
“Carol seemed like a pleasant lady.”
“She is a sweetie. She hasn’t always been that heavy, Dev. She will do anything for anyone, anytime of the day. I’ve never known a person exemplify the phrase ‘servant of the Lord’ better than Carol. Anyway, I took a few liberties talking about you.”
Develyn kept her eyes focused on the dirt road. “What did you tell them?”
“For thirty years, Carol and Andy have been trying to get me married. I cannot count the number of ladies they have introduced me too. And I don’t mean losers. Most have been very nice, fine ladies.”
“But not for you?”
“No. Not for me. Anyway, when we got to visitin’ down in Cheyenne this afternoon, Carol grilled me about the women in my life. I knew if I told them there was no one, they would get me lined up with some more of their friends.”
Develyn laughed. “So you told them that I was your lady, just to get them off your back?”
“I didn’t say you were my lady … but I did say there was a neighbor gal in Argenta that … I … eh …”
“Make it good, Coop.”
“I’m sorta diggin’ myself a hole.”
“That’s your business, isn’t it? Diggin’ holes?”
Cooper rubbed his chin. “Oh, Miss Dev, you turned out purdy good.”
“You mean for someone you disliked for the first two weeks.”
“Yes, I’m glad you stayed around.”
“You haven’t finished your story.”
“I told them you reminded me of Barbara, and I was hoping to get to know you better.”
“And this taxi ride was sort of a ruse to show them you really did have such a friend?”
“Will you forgive me for that?”
“Sure. I’ve been divorced several years, and I can’t count how many wonderful men my friends have pushed my way.”
“Thanks.” She turned left at Mrs. Tagley’s store. “What happened to Barbara? You spoke of her in the past tense.”
Cooper was silent until they turned right down the drive to the cabins. “There was a chimney fire in the night,” he murmured.
“Oh, no!”
Develyn parked the rig in front of her cabin. Uncle Henry was sprawled out in the dirt asleep.
“She got the girls out, but was so burned doin’ it that she died a few days later.”
They sat there in silence.
“It’s hard to understand those things, Dev,” he finally said. “I asked the Lord about that one, night after night. I still don’t have the answer.”
“What happened to the girls?”
“Her sister in Grand Junction raised them. Some of us in that little church saw to it that they got a college education. One of them is a schoolteacher now.”
“You put them through college by yourself, didn’t you, Coop?”
“They lost their daddy to the war and their mama to a fire. Kids deserve better than that, Dev. But that was a long time ago. I had the funds and no family of my own to spend it on. But that’s why I told the Rasmussens what I did.”
“I look forward to visiting with you more on Friday night, Coop.”
“Yes, I’d like your advice on log house designs.”
“You’re going to build it?”
“Looks like they are going to buy me out.”
“That’s wonderful. You’ll have to tell me everything about it on Friday.” She stepped around to the rear of the Jeep Cherokee. “Don’t forget your laundry.”
“Oh … yeah. Thanks again. You’ve been tendin’ me all day. How was Jenny-By-The-Park?”
“Very happy. She got married in May.”
Coop jammed his hands in his back pockets. “I didn’t know that.”
“Her husband made her close the business.”
“She’s closed? So … you didn’t get them …”
“Oh, they are clean. I just took them to a coin laundry and did them myself.”
“You did my wash?”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So you spilt a little mustard on that blue and black shirt. It came right out with some stain remover.”
He grabbed up the cardboard box. “And you folded them too?”
“You don’t seem to like the wrinkled look.”
The front door of the cabin banged open. “Hey, what’s going on out there?”
“Casey! You are finally home,” Develyn called out.
Cree-Ryder strolled toward them in the light of the open cabin door. “What do you mean, I’m finally home? I left you a note. That’s more than you did for me.”
“Mr. Tallon needed a lift, and I …”
“Sure. Here I’ve been worried for nothing,” Casey jibed.
Cooper Tallon started toward his cabin. “Good night, ladies. Thanks for the ride, Dev, and for doing my laundry.”
“You did his laundry?” Casey giggled.
“What is the big deal about doing a man’s laundry?”
“Wait!” Cooper scooted off into the shadows. “I don’t think I want to hear Cree-Ryder’s answer to that.”
Develyn pulled the sheet up to her chin, but she left the thick comforter folded back at her waist. “Jackson took you to see LaSage Mansion?”
“Isn’t that too wild, or what? He’s got this friend, Peter, whose dad works at the natural gas plant. Peter told Jackson as long he was going to be down this way, he should check out the old mansion.”
“So you got to drive right in?”
“Yes, Peter’s dad drove his rig down there with us. But, get this … the reason he wanted to take me down there after dark was to watch for the ghosts.”
“Really? Two very beautiful ghosts, no doubt.”
“Peter’s dad said a couple of the guys spotted some apparitions at the mansion and …”
“Apparitions? I was hoping we got a better review than that.”
“Well, those two men aren’t talking about it any more.”
“Too embarrassed?”
“Too rich. When they got back the other night, one of the guys in the office heard the story, so on a lark he e-mailed MoonBeam.”
Develyn stared through the darkness at Casey’s bed. “The
supermarket tabloid?”
“They offered a thousand dollars to each of the men, plus pictures of the mansion. I guess a reporter is flying out this weekend.”
“But there won’t be any ghosts.”
“They said that’s OK; they’ll use a reenactment.”
“Reenactment?” Develyn laughed. “But who will they get to play us?”
“I was rootin’ for Catherine Zeta-Jones and Meg Ryan.”
“But who will play whom?”
“Very funny!” Casey snapped.
“It is funny. It really might be in the rag sheet?”
“Maybe not front cover, but it will be there.”
“I’ll have to hire someone to buy me one,” Develyn mused. “I know all the cashiers in Crawfordsville, and I’d be too embarrassed to buy one myself.”
Casey burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Indiana is a strange place. You walk up to some supermarket and a lady in a trench coat with a Groucho Marx mustache shoves some money in your hand and says, “Pssst! Hey, buddy, would you buy me a tabloid?”
“You cannot see this in the dark, Casey Cree-Ryder … but I’m sticking out my Indiana schoolteacher tongue at you.”
“Anyway, there were no ghosts, but Peter’s dad said we could wait down there if we wanted to. He went back to the plant. We stayed down by the mansion.”
“Wait a minute, you parked in the dark of LaSage canyon with Jackson Hill?”
“Yes. We talked and talked and talked for over two hours. I think I do communication better in the dark.”
“You talked, huh? Did you see any stars?”
“The moon was so bright, the stars looked dull, you know what I mean?”
“I meant when he kissed you,” Develyn said. “Did you see stars?”
“Stars, bells, whistles, fireworks, flags flying … Dev, it was like the whole dadgum chorus of angels stood up and cheered.”
“Whoa! That’s some serious kissing.”
“Hey, but we didn’t fool around.”
Even in the pitch dark, Develyn felt her face flush. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“But he did …”
“I don’t want to go there …”
“Put his hands on my …”
“Casey, hush. That’s between you, Jackson, and the Lord.”
“Cheeks.”
“He held your cheeks?”
“My face. He put the palm of his hands on my face and just held them there. That was the most peaceful, wonderful feeling.”
“Yes, well … among some native tribes, that means the couple is engaged.”
“I know.”
“I made that up.”
“No, it’s true,” Casey insisted.
“It is?” Develyn gasped.
“No, but I just wanted to prove to myself I could still trick you.”
“Go to sleep.”
“I can’t. Can you take care of Popcorn for a few days?”
“Are you running off to Reno to get married?”
“I don’t think so. Jackson’s sister, Penny, lives in Red Lodge, and he wanted me to go along.”
“Overnight?”
“Over the weekend. But don’t worry, he said she had a spare room for me and everything. I’ll be good, Mama.”
“Don’t you think this is all moving kind of fast?”
“Dev, I’m almost thirty. I’ve never had a man be serious with me yet. Then the only guy I ever had a serious crush on wants to be with me. It can’t move fast enough for me.”
“I’m not your mother, Casey. I do worry about you like you were my daughter, but you are a smart girl. Don’t do dumb things, and you’ll be fine. I just don’t want you to …”
“I know … get my hopes up and then have my heart crushed by Monday.”
“Something like that.”
“You know what I decided? I could be aloof … lose Jackson … and have no great memories. Or I could enjoy every moment … even if it doesn’t work out, at least I’d have my memories. Even lost moments are better than no fun at all.”
“Are you quoting Alfred Lord Tennyson to me? The old ‘It’s better to have loved and lost, than …’”
“No, it’s far, far better to love and win!” Casey interrupted. “I’m not planning on losing this one.”
Develyn rolled on her right side and hugged her pillow.
Casey’s voice was raspy, soft. “When is Delaney coming?”
“Next Wednesday.”
“I’ll stay out in my horse trailer.”
“Casey, you will do nothing of the kind. I bought one of those inflatable mattresses, and we’ll all bunk in here. I need you with me. Having a moderator in the room always makes me think things through before I speak.”
“Thanks, Dev. I look forward to meeting her. I feel like she and I are kinda related. Is she like you?”
“She is nothing like me.”
“In the picture you showed me, she doesn’t look like you.”
“She looks like my brother, Dewayne. What time is Jackson coming by?”
“Eight o’clock. He’s staying with some friends over in Lander.”
“That’s a long drive. He’ll have to get up early to make it here by eight.”
“Yes, but he said he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.”
“I see. I’m really happy for you, Casey.”
“I’m happy for me too. And it’s all because of you, Ms. Worrell.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well, you came out here this summer … and you showed up at the horse sale … and you made friends with me … and you wanted to stay at the mansion to avoid having to go with Quint … and you wanted to clean up the next day at the hot springs … and invited Renny along … and Jackson saw Renny … then me! And you pushed me to go off with him. If not for your memories of a dirt road town, I would have missed him.”
“It sort of validates my entire summer.”
“It just might validate my entire life.”
* * *
When Develyn heard Casey’s rhythmic breathing, she knew she was asleep.
It’s not about me, is it, Lord? I thought this whole summer thing was about me. I came out here to find myself … to discover what was missing in my life … to ride free in the wind … to explore my childhood.
Me … my … I … on and on it goes.
But this summer is about Casey finding the love of her life. It’s about Delaney needing some space to deal with a personal crisis. It’s about Quint discovering that he will never replace Miss Emily …
it’s about Lily, not being burdened trying to entertain me, and finding herself a nice man … it’s about Renny and Coop and Mrs. Tagley and Uncle Henry. It’s not about me.
And the summer is barely half over.
Maybe that’s what I needed most in this trip. I needed to get my mind off myself. It’s not about me.
Why is that so tough to do?
* * *
Develyn dumped hay over the fence into the pasture where Popcorn and My Maria grazed. She watched as Cooper Tallon rode up on his buckskin gelding.
“Good morning, Mr. Tallon. Are you coming in or heading out?”
“I’m riding up into the Cedar Hills to take some digital photos. I want to pick out the best place to build my log home.”
“That sounds fun.”
“I’d invite you along, but you said you were goin’ to Douglas.”
“Thank you very much anyway. When you pick a site, let’s ride out and look at it.”
“I’d enjoy having a woman’s opinion.” He tipped his black felt cowboy hat at her. “Have a great day, Miss Dev.”
“You too Coop.”
He rode north across the prairie.
Lord, I feel like I barely know Cooper. There seems to b
e a whole lot about him that he keeps to himself. I don’t even know how old he is. Maybe he’s sixty. But I do know he’s strong and healthy and has a thirty-five-inch waist and thirty-six-inch inseam.
* * *
The store in Mrs. Tagley’s living room smelled like cookies and bacon, a warm, nostalgic aroma that made Develyn feel ten years old. She plodded behind the counter and opened the chest freezer, then pulled out an orange Popsicle.
“It’s just me … Devy-girl … Mrs. Tagley. I know I’m early today, but I wanted something cold to suck on. I’ll leave your money on the counter.”
“Honey, come back here a minute.”
Develyn plodded to the back room where Mrs. Tagley was on her hands and knees next to the sofa. The black-and-white television blared a soap opera.
“Are you OK?”
“I’m just a little embarrassed. I can’t get up.”
Develyn hurried to her side. “Sweetie … I’m sorry. Let me help you.”
With Mrs. Tagley’s arm around her neck, Develyn helped her up. “Sit in this chair a minute and catch your breath. What happened? Did you fall?”
“Oh, I fell asleep on the couch last night, and I rolled over and fell on the floor. I couldn’t get up. I think that scared me.”
“When did you fall on the floor?” Develyn asked.
“About nine o’clock.”
“Last night?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Mrs. Tagley, I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner.”
“It’s a tough thing to lose some of the ability to take care of yourself. Now I’ll be even more frightened of falling. I cracked my knee on the counter a couple of days ago. It just wants to give out on me.”
“Honey, I’m going to come over here bright and early every morning to make sure you’re OK.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’ve taken care of myself for over ninety years.”
“It’s time someone looked in on you. I’ll only be here three or four more weeks, but I’ll check on you.”
“You really going back to Indiana? I was hopin’ you’d stay.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tagley. That’s kind of you.”
“I don’t say it to everyone, but you’ve got Wyomin’ in your eyes. I saw it thirty-five years ago. I see it today.”
Develyn studied the older woman’s gray eyes. “What do you mean?”
Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago Page 39
