Slim Pickings in Fat Chance, Texas

by Bonaduce, Celia

  “Pappy told me the same thing yesterday.” Fernando stared at his feet as if they were a complete surprise. “Maybe I could ride with Pappy and Old Bertha?”

  “You could,” Polly said. “But you’d still have to walk back. The VW gets pretty full. Supplies have to last us a week or more.”

  “Got any sneakers?” Powderkeg asked.

  “I don’t want to arrive in a real cowboy town in sneakers,” Fernando huffed. He saw the confusion on Powderkeg’s face.

  “What size shoe do you wear?” Titan asked.

  Fernando looked at Titan’s feet, encased in well-worn but gorgeous red cowboy boots. “A ten,” he said gloomily. It was obvious that Titan wore at least a thirteen.

  “Powderkeg, don’t you wear a ten?” Titan asked.

  “Eleven and a half,” Powderkeg said.

  “Well, he’s right. He can’t show up in sneakers,” Titan said. “It’s hard enough to make a good impression over there.”

  “Should I just give you the list and wait here?” Fernando asked.

  “No,” Titan said. “News travels fast. They’ll want to get a look at you.”

  “You’re scaring me,” Fernando said.

  “You said you wanted a taste of the Old West,” said Powderkeg. “Well, Spoonerville is as authentic as it gets.”

  “I have an idea,” Dymphna said, giving a final tug to Thud’s saddlebags. “Wear your sneakers as far as the Rolling Fork Ranch entrance, then change into your boots.”

  Fernando looked relieved and headed back to the Creakside Inn, silently giving thanks that he’d thrown his athletic shoes in his bag at the last minute.

  “What a great idea, Dee,” Titan said to Dymphna as he turned toward the forge. “Hang on, I’m going to get my sneakers too.”

  “Why?” Powderkeg asked. “Your boots are broken in just fine.”

  “They still hurt like hell,” Titan said, lifting the hem of his jeans to reveal a two-and-a-half-inch stacked cowboy heel. “Eight miles is a long walk in heels, no matter how long you’ve been wearing them.”

  “Didn’t you ever see women changing shoes at the last minute?” Polly asked Powderkeg. “Flats on the street and then power heels for the office?”

  Powderkeg shrugged. “I never worked in an office. Titan and Fernando are going to change shoes at the last minute to make the right impression in Spoonerville? Do I have that right?”

  Dymphna and Polly nodded simultaneously.

  “Think of it this way,” Dymphna said. “The right tools for the job.”

  Powderkeg smiled and gave her a thumbs-up and a wink.

  When Titan and Fernando had returned in their running shoes and stowed their cowboy boots in Thud’s saddlebags, the group headed down the creek toward Spoonerville. The mule and Thud clearly knew their way, although Titan did keep a hand on Jerry Lee’s halter to keep him moving.

  “Thanks for giving us a chance,” Dymphna said to Fernando. “I have to admit I was surprised.”

  “I have some money socked away,” Fernando said. “I guess I just saw something here that made me think I’d give it a shot.” But I’m not telling you what it is, in case I’m wrong, he thought. I don’t want to get anybody’s hopes up, let alone my own.

  Fernando and Titan pulled on their cowboy boots once they were under the arch that proclaimed they’d arrived at the Rolling Fork Ranch. By the time they had walked the last half mile, Fernando was glad he had listened to Powderkeg.

  Strutting around in unbroken-in cowboy boots was not for sissies.

  CHAPTER 9

  Although there was a hitching post, Titan tied Jerry Lee to the bumper of the Covered Volkswagen, which sat at the bottom of stairs that led to the Spoonerville store. Dymphna clipped a leash to Thud’s collar, walked up the steep steps, and looped the leash around the leg of an ancient bench. The bloodhound thumped his tail piteously and Dymphna gave him a kiss on the head.

  “Sorry, Thud,” she said. “You know Dodge doesn’t like dogs in the store.”

  Dymphna watched Fernando, Polly, Powderkeg, and Titan go into the store. She patted Thud again, stalling for time. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was hoping she might run into Tino, the vet. He did say he was back working on the ranch, didn’t he? She realized she was being silly. After all, he’d worked on the ranch for the entire first six months she’d been in Fat Chance, and she’d never once run into him before, so what were the odds that she’d see him now? A million to one? A billion to one? Guilt washed over her as she realized Professor Johnson could probably calculate the odds for her. She kissed Thud again and finally walked into the store.

  There, talking to Titan, was Tino. Dymphna couldn’t hear what the two men were discussing, although she could see Titan was telling Tino a story using elaborate hand gestures. Titan extended one muscular, ebony arm as if in flight, while dangling the other at an angle. He must be talking about Fancy!

  Titan suddenly grabbed the doctor’s hand and pumped it up and down. Apparently deciding this did not express his feelings to their full extent, he grabbed Tino in a bear hug and lifted the man off his feet.

  Dymphna caught Tino’s eye while he was still dangling in the air. When he was back on the ground, he motioned her to join them.

  “Did you know that this . . .” Titan paused, trying to keep his emotions under control. “This great man saved Fancy’s life years ago?”

  Dymphna blinked in surprise. With her broken wing and one eye, Fancy must have been quite a warrior at one time. In theory, Dymphna had always known that the old buzzard must have a backstory, but she never thought she’d ever hear it.

  “I didn’t actually save her life,” Tino said. “I just gave her a fighting chance, that’s all.”

  Polly joined the group, carrying bottles of water for all of them. It had become a ritual to down a bottle of cold water after the long walk to Spoonerville. Polly brought an extra one for the vet. Tino accepted the bottle and cracked open the cap.

  “Fancy . . . that’s what you call her?” Tino asked, taking a long drink. “She didn’t have a name back then. She was a fearless bird. A lot of people on the ranch tried to drive her out, but she’d staked her territory.”

  “Why would they want to drive her out?” Titan asked indignantly. “Vultures don’t hurt people.”

  “No, but she was aggressive,” Tino said. “She’d get too close to the barn or the ranch house or the store. You could practically watch her daring people or other animals to mess with her.”

  “That’s my girl,” Titan said proudly.

  “Well, one day I found her by the side of the road,” Tino said. “At first I thought she’d been hit by a car, but after looking her over, it was clear she’d been in a fight with some other animal. I took her back to my office. I knew she’d never fly again, but I just had a feeling I could patch her up and she’d be OK. I never met a bird like her before or since.”

  “How did she end up over in Fat Chance?” Dymphna asked, humming with admiration for the man who would save an ugly old buzzard.

  “I don’t know,” Tino said. “She escaped from her cage one night. I looked for her, but lost her tracks down by the creek. I figured she was ready to be free, so I just let her be. I’m happy she’s got a home with you, Titan.”

  Titan looked modestly at the floor.

  “Hey, Titan!” came a booming voice from the doorway. “You bring me those horseshoes for Molly?”

  Dymphna didn’t recognize the man. There seemed to be an endless supply of strapping men at the Rolling Fork.

  “Yes, yes,” Titan said. “I have them in the VW bus. I’ll be right out.”

  Titan turned to the doctor and spread his arms for another hug, but Tino put out his hand to shake. Dymphna stifled a giggle—she knew Titan’s hug could knock the wind out of you.

  “Thanks again, Doc,” Titan said.

  “I’m happy she made it,” Tino said, patting the giant man on the shoulder as Titan went out to conduct his business.

/>   “Hey, Titan,” came Dodge’s gravelly voice from behind the counter. “I understand you saved my bull last night.”

  “Who told you?” Titan asked.

  “Rocket.” Dodge sneered.

  “He did?” Titan asked, eyes wide.

  “No, of course not,” Dodge said. “He’s a damn longhorn.”

  Dymphna and Tino exchanged a look. Animals could tell you lots of things, if you just listened.

  “Powderkeg told me,” Dodge said.

  “Oh,” Titan said. “Well, you’re welcome.”

  Titan headed out the door. Polly puffed her cheeks in disgust.

  “Dodge is such a jerk—he didn’t even say thanks,” Polly said to Tino and Dymphna. Then, to Dodge, “You got a lot of help from Fat Chance, Dodge, first from Thud and now Titan. One of these days, you might just admit how awesome we are!”

  Dodge turned his back on her without a word. Old Bertha was standing at the counter waiting for service—and Old Bertha never waited long without complaining.

  Polly smirked. “Well, I guess he’s not going to register our awesomeness today.” Dymphna tried to will Polly to leave. Polly looked like she was about to start a new conversation, but was interrupted by Old Bertha’s voice.

  “Polly!” Old Bertha barked. “Get over here! Dodge says you ordered a bunch of strip nails. You planning on some remodeling you haven’t told me about?”

  “Strip nails? Why would I do that?” Polly rolled her eyes and went to do battle with Dodge.

  Tino and Dymphna stood in awkward silence as they watched Polly pour a handful of flat-head nails into her hand and hold them under Dodge Durham’s nose.

  “Nail strips, Dodge, not strip nails! For a manicure! What am I supposed to do with these?”

  Dodge, a tall man with an impressive belly, didn’t back down.

  “Listen, you guys order the weirdest stuff! How am I supposed to keep it all straight?” he said. “Fine, I’ll keep the strip nails, but you’re on your own with the nail strips. I ain’t orderin’ ’em.”

  “We’re always in trouble here,” Dymphna said to Tino. “Dodge doesn’t really like any of us.”

  “Don’t take it personally,” Tino said. “Dodge doesn’t like anybody.”

  Dymphna heard the unmistakable buzzing of a cell phone.

  Tino reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He stared at the screen and frowned. Meeting her eyes, he said, “Damn. I have to take this. Will you excuse me a minute?”

  Dymphna nodded. She was having cell-phone-reception envy. If only phones would ring like that in Fat Chance! As he answered the phone, Tino stepped out onto the porch. Dymphna wasn’t sure if “Will you excuse me a minute” meant “I’ll be right back” or “This conversation is over.” She looked around the store. If Tino wanted to find her, it wouldn’t be difficult. She decided to just go about her business and hope for the best.

  She noticed Dodge, from his vantage point at the checkout stand, glancing out the window, looking at Thud. She felt as if Thud should be allowed in the store, given that he’d once saved Dodge’s life. But she knew Dodge did not like being reminded of that day, and Thud’s rattlesnake-skin dog collar, custom-made by Powderkeg, was the colossus of reminders.

  Dodge returned his attention to the checkout line. Fernando looked down at his foot-long checklist stretched out on the counter.

  Dodge looked at Fernando quizzically. “What’s hoisin?” he asked suspiciously.

  “It’s Chinese,” Fernando said. “It’s a strong glaze with mashed soy beans in it, among other things.”

  “And what about this?” Dodge pointed to the list. “Liquid smoke.”

  “It adds a smoky flavor to meats,” Fernando said.

  “I’ve never ordered most of this stuff on here,” Dodge said. “Cleo never ordered Boston butt or rapini. What are you going to be cooking over there?”

  “Just the best barbecue you and your cowboys have ever tasted,” Fernando said loudly.

  “Really?”

  “Really. I thought about it and decided what this area needs is a decent barbecue restaurant. We need a place to feed hungry men.”

  The store was crowded, not only with most of the inhabitants of Fat Chance but several ranch hands as well. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and listened intently to Fernando.

  Polly, who had two boxes of cereal cradled in her arms, looked wide-eyed at Dymphna. Dymphna shrugged. This was the first she was hearing about this.

  “Where’s Pappy?” Old Bertha rasped to Powderkeg. “I’ll bet he’d be very interested to hear this.”

  Dymphna looked around the store. Exactly where was Pappy? She remembered he’d said that Dodge had a special delivery for him, but she hadn’t seen him since they’d arrived.

  Dodge and Fernando bent back over the list. Apparently, if barbecue was at stake Dodge was going to take this order seriously.

  Dymphna was so intent on the proceedings at the cash register that she didn’t notice Tino returning to the store. Trying desperately to act casual, she grabbed two cans of chicken noodle soup and popped them into her basket as he approached. As he got nearer, she gasped when she realized what she’d done. She was a vegetarian. She just had time to pop the cans back on the shelf before Tino was standing beside her.

  “Sorry about the interruption,” he said.

  Dymphna continued to study the soup cans. Talking to Tino up at the farm was easy; talking around soup seemed nearly impossible.

  “What are you looking for?” Tino asked.

  “Um . . . ,” Dymphna said, trying to think of any vegetarian canned soup. “Tomato?”

  Tino reached out his hand to the tomato soup cans right in front of her nose and handed one to her.

  “Thanks.” She flushed as she tossed the can into her basket. She knew her cheeks were probably the same color as the tomato soup on the label.

  “That call I just took,” he said, looking outside where he’d been standing. “It was a local farmer named Meriwether—she lives about six miles from here. Her horse has barbed wire stuck in its tail and she needs some help getting it out. I’ve got to get over there. My truck is outside. I was wondering if you’d like to go over there with me.”

  “Wouldn’t I be in the way?”

  “I wouldn’t ask you if that were the case,” Tino said seriously. “I saw the way you calmed your goats yesterday, and I think you’d be a big help. I know this horse. She can be skittish. If you could keep her distracted while I work on the tail . . .”

  “I’d be honored to help,” Dymphna said. “Let me give this basket to my friend. I’ll meet you at your truck.”

  Dymphna found Polly and gave her the shopping basket and some money.

  “Will you take Thud back with you?” Dymphna asked. “I’ll pick him up at the inn when I get back, but I don’t know how late I’ll be.”

  “No problem. I’ll make sure he gets dinner,” Polly said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m so jealous!”

  Dymphna sprinted outside. Why would Polly be jealous of a trip to help a horse? Thud lumbered to his feet, but Dymphna gave him a quick kiss on the head, said the name “Polly” very distinctly so he would understand his immediate future, and then ran to Tino’s battered green Ford F-150 truck, which he’d pulled up in front of the store. They sped away in a cloud of dust.

  Dymphna looked at Tino’s hands on the steering wheel. They were simultaneously the hands of an artist and the hands of a working man. She felt him look her way and she met his gaze. There were those beautiful green eyes again.

  She suddenly realized why Polly was jealous.

  CHAPTER 10

  After distributing his horseshoes, Titan returned to the group outside the store, a huge smile on his face.

  “From that smile, I’m guessing the ranchers and their animals were happy with the results of your labor,” Powderkeg said.

  “Not only that, I met Mr. Honeycutt!” Titan said.

  “You did
?” Polly said, obviously impressed. “I didn’t think he was actually a real person.”

  “Who is Mr. Honeycutt?” Fernando asked.

  “Just the owner of the Rolling Fork,” Old Bertha said.

  “He offered me a job,” Titan said. “He wants me to move to the ranch.”

  The little group stared at him.

  “Congratulations,” Dymphna said, her voice quavering. “We’ll miss you!”

  “It’s hard to imagine Fat Chance without you,” said Old Bertha. “But you deserve this.”

  “You do,” Powderkeg said solemnly, shaking Titan’s fist.

  “This hurts me,” Fernando said. “I mean, I know I just got here, but . . . well, the place won’t be the same without you.”

  “Are you guys crazy?” Titan asked. “I’m not moving to the ranch! What would I do without you guys—and what would I do with Fancy?”

  The group let out a collective whoosh of relief.

  Old Bertha leaned back against the passenger door of the Covered Volkswagen, feeling as if the town had dodged a bullet. It would not have been the same without Titan’s calming presence. The van had been loaded to the rafters with supplies, as were Thud’s and Jerry Lee’s saddlebags. Evening was in the air. But Pappy was nowhere to be found. Old Bertha waved the other Fat Chancers on their way, dismissing protests that they should stay with her until Pappy showed up.

  “Where is he?” Powderkeg asked Bertha.

  “How should I know?” Old Bertha said. “We rode over together. That doesn’t mean we talked. By the way, did you order more fan belts?”

  “I did. How did you know about that?”

  “Pappy told me.”

  “So you did talk on the way over,” Powderkeg said, beaming broadly.

  “You’re a regular Columbo,” Old Bertha said.

  “I’ll just hang with you. Just in case.”

  “Just in case . . . what?” Old Bertha asked.