by Jodi Thomas
As she walked in a heavyset man, with a beard halfway down his biker shirt, looked up from the bar he was cleaning. Meredith glanced around. A young waitress talked to a cowboy in the corner, but other than that, the place was empty.
She quickly crossed to the man behind the counter. "Mr. Frunkie?"
He stared at her as if he was trying to identify a new species never before seen in this environment. "Who wants to know?"
Meredith extended her hand. "I'm Meredith Allen, a friend of Randi Howard."
He did not take her hand and she could not help wondering if he had caught Granger's disease. "Lady, you may be Meredith Allen, but I'd stake what's left of my hair that you're not a friend of Randi's."
The barmaid moved closer, suddenly more interested in Meredith than the cowboy. "Where'd you get that sweater, honey?" She raised one eyebrow that looked to have been painted on with a first-grade crayon. "I'd like to have me one of them Santa shirts."
"A friend made it." Meredith held up the bottom of the shirt so the Santa shone in the bar lights. "You can buy the sweatshirts at Wal-Mart, then all it takes is a little yarn and a pair of eyes. She glued these on, but you could use buttons."
Meredith glanced up to see them laughing at her. She fought the urge to run. She was not used to having her kindness met with sarcasm. She did the only thing she could think of, she continued.
"It has to be washed by hand or the yarn tends to come out." She held her head high and stared at the barmaid's forehead like she had been taught to do when she first started teaching. "I could leave it here for a few days if you wane to use my shirt as your pattern."
The woman was taken back by Meredith's kindness, but was too jaded to believe. "What planet did you drop from, honey?"
Meredith smiled as if she understood the joke. "I grew up here but went away for a few years during college. Took over Mrs. Helderman's second-grade class when I got my degree."
The barmaid smiled. "I had Mrs. Helderman. She was so old we all believed she dated Robert E. Lee. She still have that picture of him hanging behind her desk when you got there?"
"Of course. I don't think she ever threw anything away. You should have seen her files. She kept toothless, second grade pictures of most of the people in this town." Meredith leaned closer so she could read the name tag. "I don't remember seeing a Barbi, though."
"It's Barbara. Barbara Coleman. I think I was in the fifth grade when you came. I kind of remember seeing you around."
"Yes, of course." Meredith patted Barbi's arm. "You're Molly and Jake's big sister. How are they doing? I heard Molly got into A and M."
"That's right. Another few years and my baby sister may be an engineer."
"I'm so proud. She was such a sweet little girl."
Meredith glanced at Frankie. He looked like he might throw up.
The cowboy sauntered from the other end of the bar, his beer in hand. "I had Mrs. Helderman. She used to turn her ring around and thump us with the stone if we caused trouble. I still got dents in my head to prove it."
Frankie groaned. "I'm calling the cops. You stay much longer, teacher, and there's bound to be trouble. Who knows, all the customers will probably start getting out their old annuals and we'll sign `See you when the summer's over.' Wr can have a regular grade school reunion."
Meredith ignored Frankie and looked at the cowboy. "You're Smiley Weathers, aren't you? Mrs. Helderman used to tell stories about you when she'd come up to have lunch in the teachers' lounge."
"She remembered me?" He seemed touched.
Meredith added, "She showed the newspaper clippings of you making it into the rodeo finals in Las Vegas."
Smiley took a swig of his beer. "She did, huh? Well, I'll be…"
Frankie had had enough. "You'd best be ordering a drink or stating your business, teacher,. I can't stand much more of this."
Meredith folded her hands and leaned her elbows on the bar. "As I said, I'm a friend of Randi Howard, and I'm here to see if you'd be willing to drop any charges against her if she had the light pole fixed."
His eyes squinted like he was trying to see a lie. "And how might you be friends with Randi?"
Meredith forced out the words she hated to say. "My husband was killed with hers on the oil rig that caught fire a few months ago."
Both Barbi and Smiley drew closer.
"Ohhh," Barbi sighed. "I'm so sorry. It was horrible, wasn't it? They say old Shelby Howard is little more than a vegetable. Had one of his ears burned completely off, too. No telling what else. Maybe it's lucky your man died."
Meredith did not answer. She had grown used to such insane statements.
"I've got friends who played ball with your husband."
Smiley made a slight toast with his beer. "They say he was one of the best who ever played in this town."
Frankie glared at the pair of crybabies. "Now don't go started again. So you're friends with Randi because of some accident. That don't make you her keeper. She got into trouble last night, and this time she's going to pay."
Smiley and Barbi looked at him like he had thumped a puppy.
Frankie picked up the rag and wiped the bar, trying tu ignore their disapproval.
"Randi's not alone," Meredith added. "Helena Whit worth is posting her bond and Anna Montano as well as Crystal Howard will stand behind her with any monoy needed to make the repairs."
Frankie snorted. "Crystal, I believe. She and Randi used to run this place on busy nights. Haven't seen her for a while. Don't know Anna Montano, but everybody's heard of her. Cowboys from the Montano spread who come in here say she's a looker."
"Look but don't touch," Smiley added. "I hear tell her brother threatens to cut the nuts off anyone who talks to her." He glanced at Meredith. "Pardon my language, Mrs. Allen."
Frankie rolled his eyes. "So Randi's got her some friends. So what? That don't fix my pole."
Meredith played her ace. "We'd be willing to put up a string of light poles that look like old fashioned streetlamps if you'd drop the charges. We have every intention of squaring up with you."
"Wouldn't that be swell," Barbi chimed in. "Think of it, Frankie. This place would finally have some class. Maybe folks could find their cars if we added more than one light pole."
"More poles would just be more for them to run over."
He wasn't giving in so easily. "Besides, the pole hit the building when it fell. Scratched the paint off the left side."
"You've got to be kidding." Smiley laughed. "How could you tell that scratch from the hundred folks made trying to leave the parking lot? Some nights it's like bumper cars at closing time."
"But if we got a string of new lights, folks would notice the paint job," Frankie reasoned.
Meredith remembered Helena's words to offer whatever she had to in order to get the charges dropped. "Would you call it even if we had the building painted?"
Frankie slowed his cleaning. "I might. I always liked Randi. If she hadn't killed my pole I'd say we would still be friends."
"Blue!" Barbi giggled. "The building has to be blue."
"Blue's not a good color for a bar." Smiley took another drink. "Black, maybe with a red roof."
"Both of you shut up. The two of you sound like those interior decorators on TV." Frankie looked like he needed a drink. "It's a deal, lady. I'll let you know what color. Now get out of here or order, I don't have time to chat."
Meredith offered her hand again, and this time Frankie took it.
As she turned to hug Barbi goodbye, the door swung open with a pop, letting in a wide slice of late afternoon sun.
Sheriff Farrington stood with his feet wide apart and his hand resting easy on his gun belt. Meredith almost laughed. He looked every bit the lawman stepping into a saloon in the badlands.
When he saw Meredith, she didn't miss the way his whole body relaxed. He closed the door and walked in as if finding her in the local dive were an everyday occurrence.
"Evenin', Frankie."
"Evenin', Sheriff. You off duty and drinking tonight, or like half my business lately, just come to talk?"
"Any problem?"
"Not unless you call arguing over what color to paint the place a riot."
Granger looked at Meredith. "You having car trouble. Mrs. Allen?"
"No," she said. "I was just leaving." She hugged Barbi again. "Now, tell Molly hello for me."
Barbi promised, then added, "I'd really like that pattern from your sweatshirt. They'd make real neat Christmas presents."
Meredith wiggled out of the sweatshirt and then straightened the white blouse beneath. It was wrinkled and hopelessly covered in tiny red balls. "I'll pick the sweatshirt up in a few days when I come back."
"You're coming back?" Granger looked away as if there was a possibility she thought someone else had asked the question.
Meredith saw no need to answer. This was none of his business.
"I've got to go. Bye, Barbi. Take care, Smiley." Meredith moved toward the door. "Bye, Frankie. I'll return with some paint samples."
"Bye!" Frankie drew the word out as he wiggled his fat fingers.
All three on the other side of the bar glared at him. Meredith ran to her Mustang, in a hurry to get home. On the fourth try to start her car she noticed Granger standing beside her driver's side window.
"What?" she snapped, angry that he had followed her again.
"Let me try."
She got out of the Mustang, shivering. "What makes you think it will respond to a male foot pumping the clutch any better than a female foot?"
He pulled off his uniform jacket and dropped it over her shoulders. "Just let me give it a try."
The second time he turned the key, the engine kicked to life.
"Luck," she said as he climbed out.
"Does this thing have a heater?"
"No." She offered him back his coat. "But I won't freeze in the ten blocks to my house."
He refused to take the coat. "Keep it. I know how you hate to be cold. You can bring it back tomorrow, if you're working at the courthouse this Sunday."
"I have to get finished with some reports. How about you? Are you planning to be in your office tomorrow?" Everyone in town knew the sheriff did not work Sundays.
"I'll be there." He snapped as if they were having an argument and not simply a conversation. "I have some end of-the-month paperwork to catch up on."
He walked away without saying another word.
Meredith drove home wrapped in his warm coat, wondering how he knew she hated to be cold.
Farmers and ranchers supplied the need for oil field workers in the early days. They were used to hard, backbreaking work in all kinds of weather.
December 2
Montano Ranch
Anna waited for Bella to take a drink of tea before she continued painting. The old housekeeper loved to talk while Anna worked.
"So," she started once more. "I was doing Zack Larson's laundry. It is never much, he takes his shirts and good jeans to the cleaners in town. He kids that he doesn't trust me with white shirts after seeing what I do to white socks."
Anna smiled, enjoying the music of the woman's words even though she talked of nothing important.
"I don't mind the laundry, which probably makes me a candidate to be committed in most women's minds. But for me, it means an order to the day. I always washed the sheets first, so I could make the bed. Then the towels. By the time they are done, I'm cleaning the bathroom and kitchen. The laundry is a timetable, a clock that ticks away the hours to the beat of Zack's country-and-western music."
Bella popped a cookie into her mouth and continued while she chewed. "Only today, hidden among the dirty clothes was a real puzzle. One old blanket he always keeps by the porch swing and the only two good guest towels the man owns were stuffed in the bottom of the hamper. All three were spotted with blood and Zack standing there, not a Band-Aid on him. If he had cut himself, he would have had to search past two stacks of ordinary towels to find the two fancy ones. Why would a man use his favorite blanket anal two good towels to clean up blood?"
Anna had stopped listening. She was remembering.
"I would have asked, but I'm not one to pry. He's a man who guards his solitude. In his teens, when he was wild and out of control, he gave up trusting people." Bella shook her head, forgetting she was the model. "I'll never forget the day, fifteen years ago, when his mother was not long dead. I spent half the morning sobering up Zack's dad enough to drive him down to bail out his son. No one in town would give the boy the time of day after that, not even when he buckled down and worked the ranch after his father died."
Bella sipped her tea and ate another cookie. "I do love these things. I told Zack I was going to get some for his place."
Anna did not miss Bella's gaze resting suddenly on her bandaged hands.
"Did you take a tumble riding?" Bella asked.
"Oh, no." Anna tried to not meet Bella's stare. "I fell against the fireplace trying to cross the great room in the dark."
Bella smiled and Anna knew the old housekeeper had figured out her puzzle. Neither said a word.
Anna worked the rest of the day on Bella's painting, but when darkness fell, she watched for the light from the north. Carefully, she waited. It would not do to go to Zack's too early. She did not even want to think of how Carlo might react if he saw her crossing the land.
The night was still and cold when she finally climbed the walkover and headed toward the porch light. Zack sat on the swing. He stood when he saw her walking toward him.
He offered her his hot cup of tea when she reached the porch. Anna cradled the mug in both hands and curled into the blanket he offered.
"'T-tea?" she asked after taking a sip.
"My housekeeper seems to think I need to drink the stuff, but can't say I care for it much. I'm sure glad you showed up to take it off my hands."
She smiled and took another drink.
"I don't know how long you can stay tonight, but it wouldn't be long enough."
They talked of the tea, and Bella, and the construction of the new rig on Anna's land. Her words were hesitant and shy. He wanted to tell her to slow down, relax. He would wait. He liked hearing her voice as she told him the fire had finally been ruled an accident and how Carlo was taking care of all the details.
It was too cold to be outside, but he did not invite her inside. Maybe he thought he might frighten her. So he brought out another blanket when he went to turn up the music and the lights.
They finished the pot of tea and opened the English cookie tin while looking at a travel book of places she knew well. She laughed at him when he popped one of the cookies in his mouth whole. Bella forgot to tell him they were for nibbling on.
Anna could not help but wonder how long Bella had known about the two of them meeting.
As they talked of her home, her words finally began to flow. Zack was careful not to ask any questions but to let her lead with anything she wanted to tell him. She liked that about him, more than he would probably ever realize.
When she told him, she added, "Now tell me something you like about me."
"I like watching you move. There is a grace about you that fascinates me. It almost makes me forget how much I hate the taste of tea."
They laughed; the night aged. She snuggled close agaimi him and leaned her head on his shoulder. As they rocked she slept.
He held her for a long while, then drifted to sleep.
They awoke in the stillness just before dawn.
"Anna?" he whispered as she tried to move closer and go back to sleep.
She turned her ear away, not wanting to wake.
Zack laughed and tried again. "Anna, it's almost dawn.
She finally looked up at him thinking he was handsome with a day's worth of beard along his jaw.
"You'd better go." He moved his hand over her hair. "I hate to say it, but in a short time you won't have the aid of darkness to cover your journey."
She stretc
hed and nodded.
He kissed her forehead. "Funny thing, I slept better on this swing last night than I have in weeks on my bed."
"I also." She pushed on his shoulder. "Only my pillow is not very fluffy."
"I'll start gaining weight."
"If you do, you will break the swing." Pushing herself away from him, she stood and looked down for her boots.
He let the swing drift away with her shove and then back again to catch her on the back of her knees. She tumbled atop the blankets and back into his arms.
They both laughed, then he helped her put on her boots. He reached inside his house, grabbed his coat and, as always, strolled with her to the walkover.
The sky was just starting to gray as she stepped on thee first step and turned. "Good night."
"Good morning," he corrected.
She leaned as before to kiss his cheek. On impulse, her lips shifted at the last moment and pressed against his mouth.
Zack took the kiss like a blow.
He stepped back, almost stumbling. With her at eye level, he stared for a moment, then closed the distance between them and returned the kiss.
He slid his hand around to the small of her back, pulled hor against him as if starved. They had been touching for hours, but this was different. Before this kiss they could have written off everything between them as friendship. This kiss changed everything.
Finally, he broke the kiss and forced himself to move away. "There is no time," he said out of breath.
She touched his jaw with the tips of her fingers wishing they had another hour of darkness.
Zack closed his eyes. "It's so real with you, Anna. So real it scares the hell out of me."
She laughed, knowing what he meant. She sensed it, too. A part of life that had never been there before. A hope of a future. They had both been walking through the world in a dream state and now, with one another close, every cell was fully awake.
Before he could say anything more, she was gone, running to beat daybreak. Running before her heart exploded with the pure joy of knowing he was in the same world as she.
When she was almost home, she turned to see him still standing beside the walkover. There might never be more than the one moment they just shared, but somehow it was enough. For the first time in her life, Anna was alive.
