“Where do we go from here?” She asked.
“That’s gonna have to be up to you, ’cause I don’t think yor mamma’s gonna like this one little bit.”
“Why do ya say that?” Haylee asked, looking up at him curiously.
“Mommas don’t usually like cowboys,” he replied.
“Trent, I think you got mom all wrong. When you’re on the road, sometimes she’ll ask me two or even three times a day have I heard from ya.”
“I git the feelin’ that ole Kit would like to whack me with her cane when I’m ’round ’er,” Trent chuckled.
“Momma actually told me the other day that sometimes you reminded her of my daddy,” Haylee said, tearing up.
“Well now… Haylee-Girl…don’t ya be gittin’ upset ’cause I didn’t mean nothin’ by them words,” he said as he gently wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb.
“I guess it’s just me. I get too sentimental at times,” she said, hugging him closely.
“I’m surprised and honored by what your momma said. From what I’ve learned from you two, your daddy, Asa, was a good and great man. I never thought of mahself in such a way.”
“You don’t think of yourself as bein’ good or great?” She asked.
“Sometimes I’m good, sometimes I’m not, and I ain’t never been great at nothin’. I’ve always just tried to treat people the way I wanna be treated and do the best job I can. In my way of thinkin’ that don’t make me good or great,” he said, smiling at her.
“What about your experiences growing up, on the rodeo circuit, in the service, your truckin’ business?” She asked.
“When I was growin’ up, I was good and bad; I was a good rodeo hand but not great; in the Army I was good, not great, or I wouldn’t be here now; I’m a fair ta middlin’ trucker. I put in a full day’s work and earn a good livin’. The truth be known, I’m not even good in bed!”
“Trent, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to disagree with you on a number of things you’ve mentioned,” she said cupping his face in her hands.
“I knew it wouldn’t be long before we’d be fightin’!” He said with a laugh.
“Sometimes you’re so silly!” she said with a big smile.
“Is there somethin’ special you’d like to do in the next few days?” He asked.
“Yes, there is!”
“Name it, and it’ll happen.”
“I want to spend a lot of time with you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.
“That’s easy. I got time, but I don’t know ’bout you.”
“Other than my job, I’m free as a bird,” she said.
“Think you gittin’ head of yorself. You know I gotta talk ta Kit ’bout our plans, and I ain’t lookin’ forward to it.
“I really believe that momma’s gonna be pleasantly surprised.” Haylee said.
“Lord,… I hope so, ’cause she’s a tough customer, before we talk to ’er, I have to make it official, I want you ta be wearin, a engagement ring.”
“Trent, you’re really overreacting, momma will not be bothered by your intentions.”
“Can I git a guarantee on that?”
“Now, Trent, do ya know my momma better than me?” She asked.
“That ain’t fair, course you know Kit better’n me, but I been ’round, I know how mommas’ think ’bout this kinda situation.”
“I know you do, Trent, but let me handle this, okay?”
“I’ll do mah best to stay out of it, but some point’s gonna come when I have to say mah part.”
“I know that, sweetheart, but just let me lead the way.”
“You’re askin’ a lot. That’ not easy for me.”
“I know that, but I also know what a great man you are,” she said.
“Haylee-Girl, we been all through that, and you know my thoughts.”
“I do, I just don’t have to agree with ’em, and as a woman, that’s my privilege.”
“When it comes ta me, you do have privileges. Since you’re takin’ the lead on this, when should we tell Kit ’bout our plans?”
“How ’bout tomorrow? I want ya over at the house for dinner, and we can explain to momma what we plan to do.”
“I forgot to mention, right after that, I gotta put my truck back on the road.”
“I thought you were done for now with your Tijuana-Albuquerque runs.”
“That’s true, but I gotta job over’n the southwestern part of New Mexico that just came up, but don’t ya worry ’cause it ain’t gonna mess us up.”
“Oookay, if you say so.”
“I do; so, don’t you worry none.”
“Any other surprises?” Haylee asked.
“I don’t think so, but this is somethin’ I gotta do. Bidness is bidness.”
When Haylee got home, her mother was concerned, because it was nearly six-thirty.
“Hay, where’ve you been? You had me real worried. It’s not like ya to be late,” she said in an exasperated tone.
“I’m sorry, Mom, that won’t happen again. I forgot to tell ya I was gonna stop by and see Trent after work. I should’ve called. That’s my fault.”
“No need to explain, I just worry when you don’t come home. How’s he doin’?”
“Trent’s doin’ fine. I invited him to dinner tomorrow night. That alright with you?”
“Of course, he’s beginnin’ to grow on me, but that accent of his is somethin’ else,” she chortled.
“Now, Momma, don’t you be makin’ fun of the way Trent talks.”
“I’m not makin’ fun, sometimes I just have a hard time understandin’ ’em, that’s all.”
“Momma, he’s such wonderful person,” she said as her eyes lit up.
“I like ’em, too, but you gettin’ a little too starry-eyed for what’s good for ya.”
“Why do ya say that? I think he’s a great man.” Haylee said.
“It’s my guess just about all men see themselves that way,” Kit quipped.
“He doesn’t, he told me so himself a little while ago.”
“That says somethin’ for his honesty, but he’s still a man, and I’ve done my best to warn you ’bout ’em.”
“Momma, I’m not a little girl anymore,” Haylee said, smiling brightly.
“That’s true, but you’ll always be my little girl. One day when you have your own, you’ll feel the same way, too,” she said, looking up at Haylee from her wheelchair.
“Oh, Ma, what am I ever gonna do with you?” She said, kissing the top of her head.
“You could make me somethin’ to eat for starters,” she said smiling.
“Like I always tell my customers, ’Comin’ right up!’”
“Hey, Dobs, Creet here. Our guy Willobee has really come through for us. I’m gonna need some manpower (pause on the phone) you there?”
“Yeah, yeah, just tryin’ to finish up some paperwork. What’s he got?”
“Dobs, this is a secure line, right?”
“Of course it is!” He replied in an annoyed tone.
“I’ve met with Willobee and I just finished his report. We’ve got some big troubles. Looks like to me we’re gonna need to get certain Border Patrol Agents, ATF, and your people at Homeland Security involved. We actually need the FBI, but I’m not sure they can be trusted. The way they’ve handled this email stuff with Clinton, I’m not sure who’s side they’re on.”
“You have a point, but I do have some folks at the CIA who can give us a hand,” Dobson said.
“Rather than me go over Willobee’s report, I’m gonna scan and fax it to you ya, because time is of the essence. You need to read it all for yourself.”
“Alright, Creet, but this could leave an electronic trail of some sort.”
“I know, but this is a chance we’re gonna
have to take.”
“Okay, send it,” Dobson said and hung up.
About ten minutes later, his fax machine began spitting out pages. Dobson took his time reading them, finding the information to be very disturbing. He could tell this could be a very dangerous interdiction. Time was short, and he knew he had to have assets in place quickly. His greatest concern was the Administration was allowing potentially thousands of Syrian Islamic terrorists to broadly infiltrate the country, and since they would be working in teams, the havoc they could wreak would be astounding to the American public. If they were put together to assemble a host of different bombs, even including a nuclear device, God would only know of the devastation and loss of human life that would be a certainty.
Dobson, sat back in his chair and contemplated what these savages wanted to do to innocent human beings they didn’t know or ever had even met. He thought to himself. Who are these people, and what’s wrong with their brains? What kind of religion could teach the mutilation and total destruction of other humans? As he pondered his thoughts, he knew the answer. These crazed people have been taught by their so-called religion to hate from the day they were born all who do not accept Muhammed as their spiritual leader. Can this be a religion or some perverted form of political ideology clothed in religious dogma?
His thoughts were interrupted by his vibrating phone.
“Creet again, Dobs. When do you suggest we interdict this operation?”
“Isn’t that obvious? When the terrorists are all loaded and the trucks are all buckled up. We’ll take them to the Luna County Detention Center in Deming. It’s only ’bout 30 miles away. Then we’ll unload ’em. Luna County is gonna have to keep them under-wraps until we can get a new Commander-in-Chief, because the one got now would never transfer them to Guantanamo. Even if he did, he’d let ’em go in a few weeks.
“I assumed Luna County Detention, but from a contingency perspective, what if they get wind of what’s happenin’ before we get there?” Creet asked.
“That’s why we must have superior firepower accompany the trucks. Since this is going to be occurring in very early morning hours, collateral damage should be minimized. The civilian population shouldn’t be an issue. When I read Willobee’s report, I didn’t see how many of these radical Islamic Jihadists we should expect. Got a guess on that?” Dobson asked.
“He wasn’t sure ’bout an exact number, but my guess is at least a hundred, and I’m sure they’ll be fully armed.”
“By the way, before it slips my mind, I think you’ve worked well with Willobee, probably better than me, because you’ve gotten good results, but I’ll take the lead on coordinating the involvement of various agencies on this. This is a Unity of Command issue, so I’ll be in the driver’s seat. That okay with you?”
“Yes of course, it makes sense to me. As normal, just keep me in the loop,” Creet said.
“Not a problem, now I guess we’d both better get to work. We have a lot to do. My first task is to make contact with Larson Herzberger at Langley. He’s my best CIA contact at the headquarters. I know I can count on him. I’ll talk to ya later,” he said and hung up.
With a spring in her step, Haylee met Trent at her door for dinner at six o’clock sharp.
“Come on in, sweetheart,” she said to Trent.
“Thank ya,” he said, giving her a hug and squeezing her around the waist.
“Howdy, Kit, you broke any speedin’ laws with that chair, yet?” He said with a smile.
“No, I ain’t been able to get to long enough stretch to pick up the pace,” she chuckled.
“Hope I ain’t imposin’ on ya. Seems like I’m eatin’ you folks outta house and home.”
“It’s only an extra plate…let me correct that…in your case…it’s at least two plates,” she laughed.
“I did bring two bottles of wine,” he said with a smile.
“Come-on, y’all, time to eat,” Haylee said, directing them into the dining room.
“Haylee-Girl, I see you practicin’ southern talk. Makes me feel right at home,” he said smiling brightly as he scooted up to the table.
“I know how much you like fried buttermilk chicken, so that’s what I made. I wanna warn ya, this is the first time I’ve ever cooked collard greens, so ya might not like ’em. Sorry I couldn’t get them fresh, but I did doctor these Glory canned ones up pretty good. Collards are not real popular out here.”
“I’m just happy you cooked some mac and cheese. ’Cause I don’t know ’bout collards. I’ll have a taste. I am that brave,” Kit laughed.
Trent looked over at Haylee then Kit. “Before we eat, if y’all don’t mind, I like to say a word or two. I been pretty much a loner most’ve mah life, but this is the first time I sorta feel like I’m a part a somethin’ good, and I wanna thank ya for it.”
The room fell eerily silent for a few seconds before a word was spoken and Kit broke the silence.
“Trent, you seem to be a fine young man, and this is the least we can do.”
“Thank ya, Kit, this is a lot more’n least. It’s a lot.”
“Let’s don’t let the food get cold,” Haylee said, wagging her finger.
After dinner, they sat around and discussed current events and the 2016 presidential election. Kit had some rather strong opinions about Mrs. Clinton’s candidacy. Since politics was not one of Trent’s favorite subjects, he chose to keep his thoughts private, even though he did find himself in agreement with Kit more often than not.
“Kit, did you teach this youngin’ of yors how to cook so good?”
“I can’t say that I intentionally ever really tried to teach her how to cook, but maybe she learned some things from watchin’ me. You really liked her cookin’?”
“Doggone right I do!”
“For a woman to cook southern the way she does, it’d impress just ’bout anybody I know in the whole State of Georgia! He paused, “Kit, this brings me to somethin’ I gotta talk to ya ’bout.”
“Feel free. What’s on ya mind?”
“I guess I, uh, need to ask you somethin’, and I’m nervous ’bout it.,” he said, fidgeting in his chair.
“This ain’t easy… I, uh,…me ’n Haylee-Girl been talkin’…ya see… I, uh, wanna marry ’er,” he said stumbling over his words.
Kit sighed deeply, looking down, “Is that what you both want?” She said, looking up and making eye contact with him again.
“I-I-I got head of mahself agin. I know a man should ask for a bride’s hand from her momma first, but I done it the wrong way,” he said, interlocking the fingers of his large hands.
“What have the two of you decided?” Kit asked.
“I ain’t even said this to Haylee, but I know I can’t marry ’er, if you don’t give us yor blessin’.”
“Trent, you mean to tell me that a big ole man like you would let this half-handicapped old woman stand, or in my case, sit in your way?”
“Ya see, Kit, I love ya daughter, but I can’t come between her and you. Mommas and daughters gotta stay close,” he said, looking over at Haylee.
“Momma, I do love Trent, and I wanna marry him, but he’s right, we have to have your approval. Nothing must ever come between me and you.”
“I guess I see now why you were late, the two of you’ve been plottin’.”
“I, uh, wish ya didn’t think like that. I sorta sprung it on Haylee-Girl. It ain’t her fault.”
“What if I say no?”
“Then, I guess it means me ’n Haylee-Girl ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Trent replied with obvious disappointment in his voice.
“If I give you my blessin’, as you put it, I want you two to go off on your own. I can take care of myself, and I’ve got friends if I need ’em. A man and a woman need each other, not a third wheel. The old sayin’ holds, “Two’s company, three’s a crowd.”
“
Wait a minute, Kit, I got plans and you’re part of ’em. I could never take your girl away from you. That ain’t Christian. I don’t know if Haylee told ya, but I’m gonna get a spread a ranch outside Sante Fe, and there ain’t gonna be no mortgage! We’ll own it outright.”
“Now really, Trent, you actually think I can help in some way?”
“Oh course I do! You ain’t no invalid. We can git ya one a them motorized scooter things. I watched ya get ’round in this here place, and you do purdy darn good. I won’t be able to run a place by mahself. I figure with Haylee-Girl; I get two for the price of one. Now that’s a good deal.”
“Give me one example what I could do to help on a spread-ranch.
“I can give you more’n one. You can help feed the livestock and you can keep Haylee company. Not to mention good advice on cookin’, he said with a smile. See kit, I got my eye on several pieces of land. They ain’t big in ranch terms, probly ’bout a hundered acres or more, but that’d be big nuff to raise cattle, horses, hogs, and chickens. We could have a truck garden and grow a lotta stuff. I’d have ta build a house and barn, but that ain’t a problem. The truth is, with what I’ve saved, I might not even have to sell my truck and trailer. If push ever come to shove, I could do some haulin’. Not only that, but it’s a good insurance policy. One thing I didn’t talk ’bout; you just might become a grandma. Haylee-Girl would need help with the youngins.”
“You really are serious, ain’t ya?”
“As serious as a heart attack. This has been mah dream since I was a boy, and I ain’t getting’ no younger.”
“You’re not that old,” she said with a grin.
“As stove up as I was this mornin’, I shor didn’t feel very young,” he said.
“Trent, sometimes I have trouble interpretin’ some of the things you say, but what does stove up mean?”
“Mah granddaddy used to say that when he got up stiff with a achin’ back in the mornin’,” he replied with a big smile.
“I’ve never been in the south; does everybody talk the way you do?”
“Nah, so many of ’em have got to be so sophisticated, that they talk like Yankees.” He laughed.
“Trent, Momma, once again, I’m not a potted plant. Can’t I say something about all of this?”
Willobee's World Page 15
