To Hope

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To Hope Page 11

by Carolyn Brown

Jodie jerked her head around. “Good Lord, what made you ask that? What would it take in a woman for you to walk through the world with her?”

  “I asked first,” he said.

  “Pretty hard question,” she mumbled.

  “You don’t have to answer it,” he said. He’d expected her to spout of a list of qualities along with acceptable alternatives.

  She wanted to talk but everything she started to say sounded contrived. For the first time in her life she was literally tongue-tied, and she hated it. “Thank you. I’ll have to think about it for a while.”

  He covered a yawn with his hand. “I’m going to my room to send the story out on email and go to sleep. Two days of travel to get here, three days here and three more traveling days to get back to Florida. How on earth does a person do this for a whole year?”

  “Kind of puts a new twist on the idea of a circuit, doesn’t it?” She smiled.

  His heart did one those crazy fluttering things. “It sure does. I’m glad we didn’t bring my car after all. Not because of the miles but the truck is actually more comfortable for long hauls like this one coming up.”

  She started cleaning up the leftovers, putting chicken and potato salad in the refrigerator, rolls back in the plastic bag, paper napkins in the trash can. “How long will the story take tonight?”

  “Not very. It’s for the newspaper. Got the magazine article done in San Antonio and they don’t need another one until we do the Houston rodeo. Newspaper is what, when, who, and how with just a bit of commentary.”

  “Then good night. What’s on for tomorrow?” she asked.

  “I figured you’d tell me. Yuma has a lot to offer. We missed the parade earlier today but there are other things. Or we can skip over the line to Los Algodones in Baja.”

  “Or we can laze around the pool. Lord, ain’t it nice to be able to swim outside in February? I’ve always wondered why on Earth Valentine’s Day is in February. We’ve all got runny noses and chapped lips and it’s a lover’s holiday. Don’t make a bit of sense to me. Candy and flowers. Candy when our stomachs are already touchy with the flu and flowers to set off another bout of sneezing,” she said.

  He grinned at her tirade.

  She wondered why she’d never been attracted to blond-haired men.

  He waved at the door. “Good night, Jodie. We’ll go over to Baja tomorrow and do some shopping, maybe eat at a Mexican cantina or something local.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” she nodded. God, why couldn’t they have a rousting good fight over anything at all? It didn’t matter if it was whether the chicken was crispy enough or the hotel maid was pretty or ugly. Something so she could hate him rather than want to kiss him goodnight. She wasn’t going to fall for him, not even if they were thrown together in close proximity for the next six weeks. Mixing their two lifestyles would be worse than what Roseanna and Trey had done. That their marriage was working this second time around was a pure miracle.

  She took a quick shower, scrubbing her arm again. The skin looked normal after a good dousing of moisturizing lotion but the wrist still moved looked like it had a steel rod poked up through the middle. She did the exercises the doctor had suggested and went to bed. At two o’clock she finally drifted off to sleep, only to dream of being bucked off a big, mean, brown bull named El Diablo. In her dream she dusted herself off, raised both her arms showing everyone she was fine, and then crumpled into a heap right there in the middle of the arena. She awoke at daybreak in a sweat. Was the dream a prophecy telling her that she’d die if she ever rode again? She shook away the gloom and doom and opened the drapes to let in sunlight. At least the sky wasn’t gray and cloudy.

  It was just a nightmare, nothing more.

  Jimmy was haggling with a merchant for a tapestry. Jodie ignored him and looked through a stack of serapes. The price was less than half what she’d seen them for in Oklahoma and Texas. They were wonderful to throw over a jacket or even a heavy coat for chores on really cold days. She picked out half a dozen and carried them to the front where Jimmy and the man finally reached an agreeable price on the tapestry.

  “How much?” she asked.

  “American dollars?” He narrowed his eyes and assessed the woman’s worth.

  She nodded.

  He named a price, and she picked the stack up and started to return them to the shelf at the back of the store.

  “Whoa! Wait a minute lady. We can talk about this. You are buying six. I will give you a discount for buying so many,” he said in broken but understandable English.

  “How much?”

  He quoted a price and the haggling began. She offered him half that. They finally agreed on a price in the middle. He threw up his hands saying that his family would have to go hungry that night since the Anglo had robbed him.

  A pretty woman with long, straight, black hair, ebony eyes, and skin the color of caramel pushed back a curtain with a chuckle. “Oh, Papa, you know your family has never been hungry. Madre says to come into the kitchen and have your beans and chalupas. I’ll take care of the business here.”

  She settled quickly with Jodie and then the flirting began. She batted her lashes at Jimmy and enticed him to buy wallets. He purchased two without haggling. Talked him into a serape because it had a stripe exactly the color of his eyes. He paid the full price.

  Jodie stood at the door with her sack of serapes and fumed.

  “Perhaps you would like for me to show you the rest of Los Algodones? There is much that the tourists cannot see but I could guide you, then we could have supper together. Madre is making tamales tonight. She would like to meet you. Your sister can go on and shop wherever she wants and meet you back at your hotel, no?”

  Jodie cleared her throat. If the woman got any closer to Jimmy she’d have to hire a surgeon to separate them.

  Jimmy glanced her way but only briefly. Then he and the señorita began a conversation in rapid Spanish that Jodie couldn’t follow. There was much laughing and gesturing, and at one point, she thought for sure that little hussy was going to kiss him right on the lips.

  Then suddenly she picked up a piece of paper and rustled through the cash register for a pencil. He signed his name with a flourish and handed it to her. She held it to her heart and all but swooned right there in the floor of the shop.

  “What in the hell was that all about?” Jodie asked when they got out of hearing distance.

  “She went over to Yuma with her boyfriend and saw a movie. She thought I was the star and was determined I’d stay in town and have supper with her family. It would be an honor to have a movie star at their table. It would make them all very important.”

  “And you fell for that line? She was going to get rid of me, knock you in the head, and steal all your money,” Jodie said.

  “Come on, you’re just jealous because she didn’t think you were Julia Roberts. Besides, I’ve been mistaken a few other times for Matthew McConaughey. She wanted my autograph anyway even if I wasn’t Matty old boy. She was sure she’d seen me in some movie.”

  “God, your ego is surpassed only by your—”

  “What?” His voice held a cutting edge. “You want to tell me you didn’t have an ego when you won that big gold buckle five years ago? Didn’t you sign a few autographs for little kids?”

  “Sure I did, but not for a good-looking man who was fawning all over me. If it had been kids flirting with you, it would have been one thing. That was not a kid, darlin’,” she said sarcastically.

  He took her arm and guided her into a coffee shop. Already in a temper fit, she was further aggravated by her own reaction to his touch on her bare skin. She shook him away and told the lady behind the counter that she’d have a triple latte with whipped cream. Thank goodness the woman was round as a turnip and didn’t try to impress Jimmy by asking for his autograph.

  “Did that woman think you were Matthew too?” she asked when he brought the coffee to the table she’d found.

  “No, she didn’t. She’s so old she
probably never goes to the movies.”

  “Hmphhh,” she snorted.

  “Are you jealous?”

  “Hell, no!”

  “I would have sworn I saw a little green in the store when Isabella invited me to dinner,” he said.

  “Of course you did. If anyone is going to get fresh tamales, it should be me. You don’t even like good food. I bet you’ve got a decaf with skim milk in that cup right now.” She tried to cover truth with bravado.

  “What can I say? You know me.” He threw up both hands. The woman had been itching for a fight all day.

  “You can say I’m wrong that you’ve got pure whipped cream and real coffee, maybe even espresso,” she said.

  “But it’s not. It’s decaf with skim milk just like you said. But if you don’t stop being cantankerous, I’m going to take you back to the hotel and come back here for supper with the señorita.”

  “Oh?” She cocked her head to one side. “It’s my truck and it’s not coming up to the parking lot out there and it’s sure not coming across the border.”

  “Ever hear of a taxi? It’s only nine miles from our hotel over here. I’m sure it wouldn’t cost that much. Probably be a deal since I’d get a free supper out of it.”

  “That might not be all you get,” she retorted.

  “Is this a lovers’ spat?” he asked.

  High color filled her cheeks. She covered it by leaning forward to sip coffee and letting her hair fall over her face. “We would have to be lovers for that, now wouldn’t we? You’re talking to the woman who speaks English, not the pretty little Maria who spits out fast Spanish.”

  “We did have that one kiss. Maybe we’re destined to be more than colleagues,” he said.

  “That kiss was a major mistake,” she said.

  “We’ll see.” He got the last word.

  But only because her head was spinning. She’d wanted a good old fight and she’d gotten it. Now she could go back to the job of judging bulls and riders and forget about him. His ego would keep her from ever falling for him. That look in his eye and the posturing for the young storekeeper would always be there to set her on the right path if she had a crazy notion that she’d like to kiss him again. Right at that moment she would have rather drenched his high-dollar white silk shirt with her latte than feel his lips on hers.

  Sure you would, her conscience argued. Right now you’ve never wanted to embrace him more. If you’re honest you were so jealous of that woman, you would have liked to have snatched her bald.

  She stoically ignored the niggling voice and sipped her coffee. It was a lovely, sunny day. No clouds in the gorgeous blue sky. James Moses Crowe was not going to spoil one more minute of it. And she wasn’t even going to think about kissing him.

  That idea lasted all of two seconds, vanishing when he smiled.

  Chapter Ten

  Jodie sat on the white sugar sand at Panama City Beach, Florida, and watched the sun set at the end of the ocean. Sea oats waved in the gentle breeze; the same wind picked up wisps of her hair, blowing it across her face. She deftly pulled it back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. The wrist exercises had already begun to work wonders. Not that she had full range of motion yet, but in less than a week she could already see a difference.

  She was more exhausted by the time they reached the Sugar Sands Motel than she’d been on the whole trip, but then she’d expected to be. This leg was one of the worst. From San Antonio to Yuma was over a thousand miles, and from Yuma to Panama City Beach was more than eighteen hundred miles. They still had four hundred to do the next day before they reached Kissimmee. Three days there and then there was a four-day break before they had to be in Dade City at the Pasco County Fair and Championship Rodeo for one night only and then on to Davie for two days. At least they’d be able to rest after the Kissimmee stopover because after Davie it was back to Houston and that was another thousand miles.

  She sighed. Maybe she was getting too old for this.

  “Twenty-six isn’t old,” she said aloud, but only the wind answered.

  Finally, she admitted that the physical trip wasn’t as tiring as the mental one. Making the decision not to fall for Jimmy had been easy; carrying it out was a whole heck of a lot more difficult. She still got angry when she thought of the pretty little señorita and every day she told herself that a relationship in which jealousy had any part was not a healthy one.

  She felt his presence even before he sat down beside her in the sand, still warm from the day’s allotment of sun. Before he spoke her heart did that little half step that said, I like this man a lot. Can’t you wake up and take notice of what I see and hear and think?

  “Pretty sunset,” he said.

  “Mmmm,” she agreed without speaking.

  “I’m caught up on everything now. Even the first half of my mystery novel has been sent to my agent. The last portion just needs a few details written in to make it all fit,” he said.

  “Congratulations,” she said, and meant it.

  “Today is Valentine’s Day. I bought you something,” he said.

  She’d forgotten that it was a holiday. Roseanna had mentioned it earlier in the week, saying that she and Trey were joining Stella and Rance, Dee and Jack, and Greta and Kyle for dinner at a restaurant in Ardmore.

  Jimmy handed her a big heart-shaped box of assorted chocolates. “It’s not anything fancy but every place else that sold candy was closed when I drove into town for supplies. I found one grocery store still open and everything there was picked over.”

  She swallowed hard and fought back tears. “This is so sweet. You are a good friend. Thank you.”

  A good friend? That was a beginning, he guessed.

  She tore the cellophane wrapper from the outside and opened the lid. After careful deliberation she chose a dark chocolate and closed her eyes in appreciation when she bit into it. “My favorite. Maple cream with dark chocolate. You pick one.”

  “They are for you,” he said.

  “It’s Valentine’s Day. Come on, share with me. Chocolate you eat on Valentine’s Day is not fattening. It has no calories or fat grams and it won’t make you sick,” she said.

  He laughed and picked out one from the center of the box. “Mmmm. Milk chocolate with lighter chocolate inside. Very good.”

  She ate two more before she laid back in the sand, not caring if it sifted into her hair and down her shirt. The sound of the ocean blended with the seagulls, who’d no doubt love to peck away at her box of candy. Somewhere on the west end of the beach two children giggled, one higher pitched and younger sounding than the other. An older couple appeared on the east end—a tall man with graying hair and a thin mustache and a lady in bright floral Capri pants. Both of them were barefoot and they held hands, talking in low tones as they passed Jimmy and Jodie.

  Life all around her. Some beginning with a bright future. Some coming to an end with a good past. Where did she fit into the scheme of things? And why since Jimmy Crowe kissed her had she been so philosophical? For great pities sake, she was twenty-six and she had been kissed before.

  “So what do you want to do for five days in between Kissimmee and Dade City? We’re close to Orlando. Want to do Disney World?”

  “Do you?”

  “Not really. Been there. Done that. Got an old worn out T-shirt in the attic somewhere to prove it,” he said.

  “Do they keep everything of yours?” she asked.

  “Probably. I’ve been pampered, I’ll admit it, Jodie. But it doesn’t mean that I’m weak. We are all strong-willed people. I’m just as cantankerous as they are when I think I’m right. Grandmother says I’m exactly like Grandfather. Mother agrees except when I make a big mistake. Then I’m showing traits of my father.”

  “What was he like?”

  “I was only five but I remember him laughing a lot and playing with me in the yard. I used to build great stories about him. He wasn’t really dead. They’d just told me that to make me forget him. Someday he’d come an
d steal me away. When I grew up, I admitted he was gone.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Me. Even Grandmother agrees on that. Other than my green eyes and height, I’m his image.”

  “He was a short man?”

  “No, just not as tall as I am. About Mother’s height, I’d guess.”

  She reached for another piece of candy and pointed for him to help himself. She should have bought a box of assorted chocolates last month. They loosened his tongue better than a bottle of wine.

  “What do you want to do during our five-day break?” she asked.

  “I just had a week at home. Thought maybe you might like to fly to Sulphur for a quick visit. We could catch a red eye after the last event, rent a car, and be there by breakfast. I can rent a hotel room and work on the book, and you can have a visit.”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. She was so homesick she could cry but she wasn’t about to admit it. Jodie Cahill wasn’t weak either—at least on the outside.

  “I’d like that,” she said simply.

  “Good, I’ll call Cathy and have her set up the arrangements,” he said.

  “But you won’t stay in a hotel. We’ve got lots of room in both the lodge and the house. I stayed in your home so you can stay in mine.”

  “Need to check with your family first?” he asked.

  “No, we’ll surprise them. Now, change back to original subject. Why did you think your father wasn’t dead? Didn’t you go to the funeral?”

  “No, Grandmother said children didn’t attend such things. She hated him. He and Mother fought over the move to the ranch, and Grandmother had begged her to leave him and come home. I remember that much very well. She’d get mad and tell him that she’d left everything for him and he could make a better effort. He’d tell her that she knew what he was when she eloped with him. I hated it when they fought. But that day they had a doozie and then she took me to a school function and when we got home he was dead. That’s one reason I hate jeans. It was the first time I ever wore them and my father was dead. I blamed the jeans for years.”

  She couldn’t imagine living with anyone twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week without fighting, and he’d just admitted that he hated confrontation.

 

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