by Vonnie Davis
JJ smiled and shot a glance at Junebug. “Well, you have this lady to thank for that. She reminds me of my late grandma Ophelia, whose passing left a gaping hole in my life. She’d raised me. Lost, I joined the Navy a week after her funeral. Now I have Junebug who’s been a big help just being herself, making me talk, and pulling me out of my dark place.”
“You all have me.” She held up the coffeepot. “Anyone want a refill?” All three men extended their mugs.
Once they’d helped her clean the kitchen, and the dishwasher was swishing away, ZQ built a fire in the fire pit. Junebug claimed she’d spend her evening on her recliner, reading the book for Wanda’s book club.
JJ emptied all the cubes from the ice maker into a cooler and shoved as many beers into it as he could. It didn’t take long for the three men to start reliving times past, laughing at all the dumb stuff they and other members of their team had done over the years.
At one point, the screen door slammed shut. ZQ leaned forward. “Incoming firestorm.”
Junebug stomped down the steps and tossed her book into the fire. “Fudge and buttermilk, I refuse to read any more of these crappy books. Zane, I don’t care how much you fuss at me that I need to get out more. Do you know what that book was about?” She pointed to the orange and blue flame.
“No, ma’am.” He wiped his hand across his mouth as if to block the smile curling at the corners.
“The lives of two homosexual horses. Homosexual horses! Have you ever heard of such a thing? Two stallions who couldn’t keep their…their…” Her wrinkled hands fisted on her hips. “Who in their right mind would write such a book? And why on God’s green earth would Wanda pick it for us to read? I refuse to sit in a roomful of women all dolled up in their Sunday-go-to-meeting finery to talk about two horses sticking their dongs into each other.” A gnarled finger rose and shook at her son. “Not that I have anything against homosexuals. Clarice and Suzanne have lived together for years and years. I love them both, dearly. Gays and lesbians are one thing, but homosexual horses are just too much to comprehend.” She whirled around and stormed for the house. Halfway across the back porch, she hollered over her shoulder, “I don’t want to hear another word on the subject! I’m having a shot of whiskey and going to bed.”
“Yes, Mother.” The screen door slammed again, and all of them started laughing. “I’ve been expecting that explosion all night. I read enough of the book in Kelcee’s store to know the gist of the subject matter and I know the hotspur that just threw a little hissy fit just now. As Pop would say, ‘She’s a pistol.’ ”
The talk and laughter about the good old days continued, and Dustin grew weary. He bid the guys good night and trudged for his quarters. Once he’d shed his clothes and prosthesis, he did stretching exercises, sit-ups, and push-ups. There was a pull-up bar across the entrance to his bathroom. He did a few of those, too. A hot shower, and he crawled beneath the covers.
The exercises and medications should have put him to sleep, yet he tossed and turned for a while. Green eyes and a sexy voice occupied his thoughts. He reached for his cell and dialed, hoping Kelcee would still be awake. A deep need he couldn’t explain twisted within his gut to talk to her.
“Hello?”
Christ, what am I doing? I’ve already called her once today. I don’t want her to think I’m some kind of needy stalker.
“This is Dustin, Kelcee. Please tell me I didn’t waken you.”
“No.” Bedclothes rustled.
He had to think of some kind of rational excuse for calling a woman he’d just met twice in one day. What a moron! “Look, I called to make sure I didn’t say anything inappropriate the first time I called you. I’d just taken a double dose of pain medicine and was more than a little loopy. If I said anything out of line, I apologize.” Boy, was he glad she couldn’t see his face. She was probably the type who could tell if a man was lying.
“Well…I did find it odd that you proposed.”
“Pr-proposed?” What the hell is she talking about? I did no such thing.
“And I was a little put off at your insistence on eight kids, but when you promised to have my name tattooed over your heart, in cursive, with a ring of barbed-wire intermingled with roses around it, I knew it was true love.”
“You’re playing me, aren’t you?” Hell, for a minute she had him so confused he thought he had said some stupid shit like that.
She was giggling so hard she couldn’t speak. The word “sorry” finally squeaked out. Oh, she had some payback coming.
He drummed his fingers over his pecs until she got herself under control. “Is this how you show respect to a serviceman? By teasing him into a heart attack? I’ve already got a tattoo, Kelcee. A tribal on my shoulder and bicep.”
“I’ve got a butterfly, but I won’t tell you where.”
His cock stirred at all the possibilities. “I hope I didn’t call you at a bad time.” Had he said that already? Hell, she had him so perplexed, he couldn’t remember.
“Nope. I’m just reading before I turn out the light for the night.” Her voice was sinfully breathy as she whispered into the phone. God, he could listen to her all night.
He chuckled, lowering his voice in kind. “I hope you’re not reading the book for Wanda’s book club. Junebug threw hers in the fire already.”
There was more swishing of bedclothes. “She did? Why?”
He told Kelcee the entire story of Junebug’s hissy fit. They both laughed over the elderly woman’s behavior. Kelcee quipped a joke and Dustin made one, trying to top hers. She fired back another. So did he. Before long, the two were in hysterics. He hadn’t laughed with a woman like this before, and it felt so damn good.
“It’s getting late, Kelcee. I’d love to talk longer, but I don’t want to keep you up past your bedtime.”
“I don’t mind. We could chat for another ten minutes or so.”
He smiled and rolled onto his side. “Tell me about this Wanda. What is she like?”
“Ugh. The bitch is the bane of my existence. She hated that her dad hired me. I was new in town and she didn’t trust me. But his health was declining, he needed help with the store. She complained about everything I did when she took the time to stop by to see her dad.”
Thirty minutes later, they said “good night.” Dustin drifted off to sleep, his cheek muscles aching from all the smiling he’d done during their conversation. A woman like Kelcee Todd could brighten a man’s world.
—
After breakfast the next morning, ZQ handed Dustin a box of architectural drawing supplies. “Here’s a present. Mom’s gone to visit a sick friend. Clarice, whom she mentioned last night, just got home from the hospital a couple days ago. You’ll have the kitchen to yourself. JJ and I are riding out to check the fence along the west side of the range. My foreman, Elroy, and ranch hand, Alonzo, will check the east side. Bill and Cookie are checking on the steers, taking some bales of hay out to them.
“We’ll be back around fourteen hundred hours before the heat of the day does us in. Gina’s scheduled to come by to do your evaluation around seventeen hundred hours, when she’s through with her round of patients. Until then, help yourself to whatever you want to eat, except for that apple pie sitting over there.” ZQ pointed to the second pie Junebug had baked yesterday.
“Can I ask a question that’s been bugging me?”
ZQ had just lifted his cowboy hat off one of the hooks beside the back door. He stopped and turned, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “Dust, I haven’t known a time when you didn’t have a question niggling at your gut. Spit it out.”
Dustin pointed at the hole in the ceiling. “I see where someone put plywood down to cover the other side of the opening. Why haven’t you fixed it entirely, so the eyesore is gone?”
“Oh, I wanted to, believe me. It’s a constant reminder of a bad time in my life, but Mom says it stays for just that reason. Claims that shotgun blast started to bring the real me back to her and Pop. Thi
s kitchen is her domain. Whatever Mom says goes.” ZQ jerked his head toward the drawing supplies. “Have a good day working. Later, brother.”
Dustin removed the diagramming and sketching items from the box, spread Kelcee’s drawing over the table, and studied it…and studied it…and studied…His mind wandered. He linked his fingers behind his neck and leaned back, focusing on the large hole in the ceiling from ZQ’s dad’s gun.
Objects blurred. The acrid smell of smoke overwhelmed his senses as did the booms of explosions, the repeating pop-pop-pop of gunfire, and endless screaming. He braced his trembling hands over his ears, but the origin of everything disturbing him was the slew of memories stored in his head. His personal hell would not be silenced, nor erased. He clamped his hands on his thighs, hoping the tremors overtaking his body would stop and the sweat pouring from his face would ebb.
The tablet Kelcee had given him was turned over on the table, her phone number and flowery doodads around it became a focal point, a grounding spot for his battle-suffering mind. Slowly, heartbeat by heartbeat, jagged breath by jagged breath, the flashback faded and the present brightened once again. Dustin sat in the midst of a homey kitchen, drawing supplies spread across the table, and a glass of lemonade at his elbow, its ice cubes melting.
He focused on Kelcee’s floor plan once more and an idea struck him. He snatched his cell from the table and called her. She’d mentioned some of his ideas as being “pricey.” Evidently her funds were limited.
“Bookstore by the Falls. How can I help you? There’s a serviceman’s special on books about homosexual horses. One day only. For a dollar more, I’ll throw in a book about sex-addicted steers, too.”
The sound of her voice loosened the gripping tightness in his chest. The tautness he’d lived with since parts of Wysocki landed on Dustin’s arms and chest, in that house with holes blasted through the walls, slowly lessened.
His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. He took a sip of his lemonade.
“Hello? Dustin, are you there?”
“Yes,” he finally forced out, “how busy are you?” He sipped more of his drink. “Do…do you have a few minutes to answer a couple questions for me? I’m working on your plans.” He flipped her notepad in front of him. “And don’t think that remark about the horses went unnoticed.” She was pulling him out of his flashback.
“When you didn’t answer right away, I got a sick feeling maybe Junebug was using your phone for some reason. You have questions to ask about the plans you’re drawing? How exciting. Ask away.” Her voice lowered. “I’ve only got one customer right now and he gives me the creeps. Crap, forget I said that. I haven’t had a chance to eat yet today. I’m hungry and grumpy.” She sighed. “All I’ve had is a pot of coffee, and I’m running on jitters.”
Dustin’s gaze drifted to the black-cat kitchen clock with the tail that constantly swung back and forth. It was nearing one o’clock. Christ, I lost over an hour in my mental fog. He shook his head and tried to jiggle everything into focus. Just who was this man who gave her the creeps? “Could you give me a listing of the types of books you typically stock a lot of? Ah…like children’s, historical, mysteries. That kind of thing?”
“Sure.” She gave him a rough inventory, and with a shaky hand, he took notes of what she said, the breathy sound of her voice relaxing him.
“l’ve got this idea of identifying each shelving area with different-colored paint. I wanted to see what you thought of it.”
“Go ahead. I’m all ears.” He could almost hear the smile of excitement in her voice. She really did love her little bookstore. Doing what he could to make the establishment prettier and more efficient for her suddenly became very important. And he’d damn well do it for his sweet new friend, too.
Male laughter drifted into Dustin’s cell, followed by, “You’re all boobs, Kelcee. Pure tits and ass.”
“Look, frog face, you don’t get to walk into my store and talk to me like that. Not on a day when I’m running on pure caffeine. Show some respect or get out!”
What the hell? Some man had just pissed Kelcee off, and by the sound of her voice, she was a little leery of the son of a bitch, too. Dustin nearly crushed the cell in his angry grip.
“I hate that guy,” Kelcee whispered into her cell. “Talk to me, Dustin. Keep my mind off of wringing his neck. Please, give me your ideas.”
“Well, red for children’s books, maybe.” He was seeing a little red himself. Who was that bastard who spoke to her so brazenly? He deserved a lesson in manners. Then he recalled how he’d made fun of her teacup ass. “Kelcee, I really am sorry for how I acted in your store when ZQ brought me in to meet you. I was a first-class jerk.”
She chuckled softly. “Yes, you were, but you’ve already apologized once. That’s enough. There’s no way you could sink as low as this guy strutting around my shop right now. Please share more of your idea.”
“Well, ah…green for gardening and recipe books. Maybe we could also include things around the home. Yellow or blue for mysteries and political intrigue.”
“Dustin, you’re a genius. I love that idea! It would freshen up the appearance of the store and wouldn’t cost me an arm and a leg. Hold on, I’ve got a customer to ring out.” Keys clacking and the old register working sounded in Dustin’s ear. “Your total comes to twenty-eight ninety-five, Jim.”
“You know if you’d lose twenty pounds off that ass of yours, I’d date you in a minute. Show you what a good man can do.”
“And I told you I don’t fool around with married men. Have a good day. Give my regards to your wife.”
Dustin seethed. He didn’t like any man talking to Kelcee like that; bad enough he’d done it when his pain levels were high and his PTSD ready to surface. “Are you okay? Has that son of a bitch left your store yet?”
“Yes, thank God. I’m so glad I had you to talk to. It made me feel safer somehow. Enough about him. Talking about the self-important jerk makes my blood pressure spike. I really do like your idea about stocking my books in a color-coordinated way.”
“Great. Glad you like the idea. I’m coming up with various plans, yet keeping your budget in mind. I have to go. Talk to you soon.” He ended the call and grabbed his cane so he could make his way to the refrigerator.
—
ZQ had never offered the use of his truck to Dustin, but Kelcee was hungry and he’d fixed her a lunch. The whys of his decision to do so didn’t bear thinking about. After all, they were new friends who talked and laughed late into the night. He ground his back molars together as he aimed the truck toward Warrior Falls. If that cheating lowlife was still hanging around the bookstore, well by Dustin’s estimation, this Jim fella had a good ass beating coming.
Kelcee’s face registered shock when Dustin charged into her bookshop. He waved a brown paper bag. “I brought you lunch and a soda.”
The smile that brightened her face nearly sucked the breath from his lungs. “You did? Aren’t you sweet?” She peeked in the bag and pulled out a piece of Junebug’s fried chicken from last night, celery smeared with peanut butter, and a slice of apple pie. “Oh, you are so thoughtful.” She stepped closer to rest a hand on his arm. Her jasmine perfume made him want to press his face against her neck and inhale for a good hour.
“What a thoughtful man you are. Thanks so much. You have no idea how my stomach’s been rumbling.” She peeled back the plastic wrap from the peanut-butter-covered celery. “I haven’t had this in years.” She bit into it with relish.
Her gratitude made him feel ten feet tall. He sat the can of soda on the counter.
“Thith ith tho good.” She worked her mouth. “Thickth to the roof of your mouf fo.” Her grin grew into a giggle.
God, she was cute. He reached out with the tip of his finger, wiped peanut butter off her upper lip, and held it up for her to see. She wrapped her sticky fingers around his wrist and pulled his finger into her warm, wet mouth to lick off. Sweet Jesus! He closed his eyes while his sex-starved
body went on high alert. He better get out of there before he did something to ruin their new friendship.
“I better get ZQ’s truck back. He doesn’t know I borrowed it.” He glanced out the windows. “Is that Jim dude still bothering you? I don’t like how he talks.”
She drank some of the soda and held the napkin he’d shoved into her lunch bag halfway to her mouth. “No, thank goodness. Most of the people in this town are nice, except for three or four. He’s one of the minority. Do you know I think I caught him taking a picture of me with his cellphone? The nerve of the asshat!”
Dustin’s temper flamed in his chest, burning his gut. Motherfucker! “Are you shittin’ me? Where does he work?” He was really going to check this dude out now. He was getting a feeling about him.
“I haven’t asked much about Jim, because I don’t care to know anything about him. His wife, Chloe, comes in sometimes with their rowdy twin boys. Jim wears a tan shirt with a ‘Gas-N-Go’ emblem on it, so he must work there. It’s about five miles south of town, on the main road. Honestly, he gives me the creeps.”
He stared into the depths of her green eyes and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him, her softness feeling like heaven against his hardened muscles. “Call me every time he comes in. I’ll stay on the line with you until the bastard leaves. I want you to feel safe.” Before he thought it through, he leaned and kissed her beneath her ear and she trembled in his arms. With a quick turn of her head, she pointed to her other ear. “I’ve got one over here, too.”
He chuckled softly and kissed her where she’d indicated, and then slid his teeth along her jaw. “I saw on your hours sign, you’re closed tomorrow afternoon. Do you have any plans?” He grazed his lips down her neck. How had he suddenly become so protective of her and, dammit, a tad possessive, too?
“N…no. I usually do my errands or laundry or something.”
“Did you know ‘something’ was my middle name?” He bit her gently where her neck joined her shoulder and she moaned. “What if I became your something—for lunch? I saw a couple benches across the street, closer to the falls. I could bring a pizza and a couple sodas. We could share lunch. Talk. Listen to the falls.”
