“Tankie, can I have a snack?” Bella asked, patting his bearded jaw. Like Troy, the hairs on his jaw had grown in darker red than his hair. Evidently, the whiskers tickled Bella’s hands because she scrunched up her nose and giggled as she pulled her hands to her chest and leaned toward him. Tank grinned and returned Bella’s nose rub, making Jessica’s heart lurch. The bond had deepened between them, and she had a feeling it was the same way with Troy.
Tank gave her a tender smile as he reached for the doorknob and softly said, “We’ll let you rest and relax. Take your time in here. I’ll fix supper. Is Lydia’s chicken soup okay with you?” Jessica’s stomach practically howled at the magic words, and he chuckled. “Soup it is.”
As he pulled the bathroom door closed, Bella piped up. “Tank, you have a big nose!”
“Yup, I do,” he said in an affectionate tone as he ambled down the hall.
“And it gots hair in it, too!”
“Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?”
Bella’s laughter bubbled down the hall to the kitchen. “I not no Sherlock!”
After lathering a washcloth and scrubbing herself, she was lying back and catching her breath when Troy tapped on the door. “Jess?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got the bed made up and ready for you. You feeling okay?”
“Just weak.”
There was a little pause, and then Troy said, “Would it help if I washed your hair? I know scrubbing my head and getting clean always makes me feel better when I’ve been sick. Maybe I’m a little weird…”
She smiled. The thought of having clean hair was so tempting she was willing to forego her modesty—or what was left of it. Yep, that veil of mystery is shot all to hell.
“That sounds divine.” She watched the door and then added, “But you’ll have to actually come inside the bathroom to do that, right?”
Troy chuckled outside and then the doorknob turned. “I didn’t want to just barge in uninvited.”
“If you’re willing to wash my hair for me, as grody as it is, then barge in, by all means.”
While she huddled with her arms around her knees, he perched on the edge of the tub and used a big cup to soak her limp locks and then lathered her hair twice, massaging her scalp until she felt practically giddy with relief at being clean. He spoke quietly while he worked, maybe to distract himself, a thought that made her smile. This big and strong former military dude was willing to play lady’s maid to her.
From him, she learned that a great number of people in the community were down with the same bug, including both Chance and Clayton, who she remembered him mentioning as coming down sick. Lydia was ill, as well. Otherwise, he said, she would’ve probably been over trying to help with Bella and Jess.
He rinsed her hair and then applied conditioner and rinsed it again until it was squeaky clean—truly a divine sensation. Then he excused himself so she could relax, after she’d assured him she would get herself out of the tub.
Climbing from the tub after soaking until she was pruney was a step-by-step process, involving resting on the edge of the tub for a few seconds before reaching for a towel and drying off. After she caught her breath from that athletic feat, she sat on the commode and combed out her wet hair, smiling as she listened to Bella rhapsodize about riding on the lawn mower.
Dressed in a fresh pair of pajamas, slippers, and robe, she made it as far as the chair in the living room when she got lightheaded and had to sit down before she fell down. Stars swam in her vision but eventually settled as Tank reclined the chair for her and lifted her more comfortably into it. The man was incredibly strong because she was well aware of how much she weighed.
She dozed for a little bit with all the noises of home around her, Bella talking quietly to one of the guys, dishes being done, and a pot moving around on the stove. The aroma of Lydia’s chicken soup revived her as it filled the house. When her hands shook too badly to hold the spoon or the bowl, Troy pulled over a stool, sat beside her, and helped her eat.
“Maybe you should’ve taken me to the hospital. I know I’ve been way too much trouble. I feel so weak.”
Troy blew on the spoon and shook his head. “It’s the same with everyone. And you’re not too much trouble. Quit saying that.”
“It’s true,” she whispered before she took the spoonful he offered her. “My memories are a little patchy, but things are starting to catch up to me now. How is the situation with the video your mom made for y’all? Your mom? Tank’s mom?”
“Tank’s mom, but I claim her, too. It’s been interesting. Someone’s created an online fan club for mom and the two of us. It has fifty-two thousand followers on social media, so it’s slowing down some, and a reality television star tweeted us with #gingerhotties and now our Facebook profile pictures are all over the social media sites.”
“Tell her the rest,” Tank called in a serious tone from the kitchen.
“What else?” she asked, concern growing when he looked down at the spoon with hooded eyes as he blew on it for her.
“Women started showing up around Divine, stopping in a few places and asking if anyone knew me and Tank.”
Her strength had been returning, but that news took the wind right out of her sails. “Because they want to audition for Missus-#gingerhotties?”
“Pretty much, I guess. Several of the other ranch hands are down sick, so the ranch is operating with a skeleton crew taking care of the basics. The people we’re friends with aren’t saying anything, but you know how it is in a small town.”
“Someone’s bound to gossip and next thing you know they show up out here.”
Tank shrugged as he came into the living room, giving Bella a piggyback ride. “I doubt it’ll come to that. This place isn’t that easy to get into without permission. But in light of the video and women actually coming to Divine looking for us, we’ve decided to withdraw from the bachelor auction Grace is organizing for next month.”
Troy nodded in agreement, looking relieved. “Things are chaotic right now. That would just make it worse.”
“Because…” Jessica said, ending in a questioning tone. This could be a chance for them to meet a great girl, or girls, who weren’t messed up.
“Because you agreed we could talk about us after you felt better. Darlin’, we’re not interested in any of those strange women coming into town,” Tank said as he squatted down beside her and helped Bella to gently climb into her lap.
“I hear some of them are downright colorful, though,” Troy said with a chuckle. “Veronica Stinson told Lydia that a redheaded gal showed up on their porch one night, asking if she could talk to Hank, and when he came to the door, she started squealing and fangirling and they couldn’t understand her or figure out why she was there. She said something about ‘finding the map to Divine’ and that her next stop was the Dancing Pony.” Troy made a comical face and shrugged. “You know us redheads are crazy sometimes.”
Jessica giggled and pointed at her own brownish-red locks, the same shade as her daughter’s. “Do you think maybe she mistook Hank for Tank and she was in the wrong place?”
“Nope. He asked her that, and she specifically said—or squealed—that it was none other than Sheriff Hank Stinson who she was there to molest. Then she apologized to Veronica for saying that. Hank said Veronica thought it was funny and wanted to interview her before Hank and Travis sent her on her way. She asked to be put in handcuffs and taken to the bonfire—whatever that means.”
Jessica started laughing, which turned into a coughing fit. She knew what the woman was referring to. One of Veronica’s hotter romance novels involved a bondage love scene by a big bonfire. But the reality of the situation still concerned her a little. “What if someone shows up here?”
Tank shrugged. “We have security cameras and other measures in place. They can’t get in through the gates without a code, and the charge on the electric fence will give them a painful warning if they get it into their heads to climb over.”
/> “Ouch.” She’d seen a cow get jolted once, coming too close to the fence, and it had scrambled. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to a person to brush up against that.
“Yep. But the only thing you need to worry about is feeling better. Eat your soup and I’m going to go fill up the tub for Belly-button, here,” Tank said as he lifted her daughter from her lap. Bella chortled and put her hands over her mouth as she wiggled in his arms.
“I could do that, Tank. You’ve already done so much.”
Tank stood to his full height and gave her the really? look. “Darlin’, you’re weak as a new calf. Let us take care of you a bit longer before you go back to being all independent, okay? Belly-blooper is no trouble at all.” He tickled Bella’s tummy, and she laughed. This had evidently become their game.
“I not no Belly-blooper,” she squeaked as she went with him down the hall to help fill up the tub. “Tankie, you have big teeth and a big smile.”
“I do?” The honest affection resonated in his reply.
“Uh-huh! Ya also got boogers.”
“I do not!”
“Do too! Right there!”
If laughter was the best medicine, she should be up and around in no time. When she was done with her soup, she asked Troy to grab her smartphone from her purse, wherever it was, so she could begin the process of checking in with the land of the living. As it turned out, practically everyone they knew was sick or had someone sick in their house. How awful. But looking in on a social media site, she saw something that gave her pause.
“Troy?”
“Yeah?” He poked his head around from the kitchen.
“When Tank gets done and Bella is in bed, I think we need to talk.”
He swallowed the cracker he’d just popped into his mouth and nodded. “’Bout what?”
“The auction.”
Sometimes doing good, even when it hurt, was still the right thing to do.
* * * *
“Are you sure about this, Jessica?” Troy asked, watching her face for signs of fatigue. He didn’t want to have this conversation.
“Yes.”
Tank looked ready to argue, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. If we hunker down, this viral video thing will eventually go away. The last thing I want to do is capitalize on it.”
“But you said yes when Grace told you it was for a good cause—because you’re good men. Did she tell you who all will benefit from this fundraiser and just how far attendees are coming from?”
“Well…no.” And I don’t want to know, now that we’ve backed out. This damned thing is going to ruin our chances. “I never should’ve agreed to do it.”
Jessica squeezed his hand as she smiled. “You said yes because you knew it was the right thing to do.” She held up five fingers and ticked off her pinkie and then each consecutive digit as she made her point. “The boy’s ranch just down the road, the children’s advocacy center, the domestic violence shelter here, and the children’s hospital. The girls are putting a lot of work into making this a big event, and once I’m feeling better, I might even volunteer to help. There are a limited number of guys willing to pair up for these double bachelor auctions, and you have a unique opportunity to make a big difference in our community. Think of the kids.” She blinked her sad puppy-dog eyes at them.
“Oh, that’s below the belt,” Tank groused, and Troy agreed.
“If you checked in with your fans on Facebook and let them know where you were going to be and what you were going to be doing on the night of that auction, word could spread like wildfire. Just think…”
Troy glanced up at Tank, and they knew they’d been whooped.
Jessica tilted her head and gave them that pleading look with her pretty brown eyes. “Women who feel helpless to escape their abusers and little children, guys. I can’t believe I’m suggesting it either. I just know how much good this could do. It’s a noble cause.”
Tank made eye contact with him and gave a tiny nod.
Troy said, “Fine, woman. Have it your way. But when Divine is overrun with single ginger-craving women all vying to sink their manicured nails into our ruddy, freckled hides, I’m gonna blame your winsome smile and your womanly wiles for it.”
Jessica laughed until it caused a coughing fit. Once she caught her breath, she said, “You know when you get worked up your Texan accent gets thick. But there will be a few other bachelor pairs there to take the pressure off of you.”
“Yeah, but none of them are #gingerhotties.”
“Very true. But I’m not so delicate that I can’t handle the idea of you following through on your commitment to participate for a good cause.”
They could joke about it now, but Troy worried how she’d feel if the event turned into a spectacle. After all, the whole purpose of this auction was for some woman to offer the winning bid. What came after could get complicated.
Chapter Six
November
“If you’re asking if it’s okay to dye your hair, Tank, the answer is a big hell no,” Charity Connors said with absolutely no sympathy as she lined up boxes of pizza on the kitchen island for the planning meeting at the Divine Creek Ranch house.
“Woman, does Justin know about this lack of mercy you suffer from?” Tank feigned a hurt look, and she giggled and bopped him on the arm.
He’d hoped that Jessica’s suggestion that they not quit the auction was just residual delirium from having the flu, but nope. She’d stuck to her guns in the couple of weeks it had taken her to recover.
Grace took a seat on one of the bar stools, and Tank noticed the way Jack, Ethan, and Adam all had their eyes trained on her. She was heavily pregnant with their third child, and she’d had the same flu as everyone else and still looked pretty peaked. Even so, she’d insisted they could meet at the house. “Your red hair is part of your appeal to your fan base, as well as at the auction. Since you’re doing the whole kilted ginger-hottie thing—”
“And that’s another thing,” Troy said, raising a finger and both eyebrows. “Is it really necessary for us to wear a—”
“Yes!” Charity, Grace, and Veronica Stinson all said at once.
“The kilt is part of the package,” Charity insisted.
Tank noticed all the guys were suddenly quiet and had no opinions or offers of support. The bastards. Ethan didn’t even try to hide his amusement.
“As I was saying,” Grace said as she began tapping her nails against the granite island top. “I understand why you want to dye your hair, at least temporarily. Being approached by women who go all fangirl on you when you aren’t accustomed to that sort of thing can be disconcerting—”
“Just ask Hank,” Veronica added with a smirk. “He still checks the front window before he goes out onto the porch.”
Grace looked down at the notes in front of her and said, “The other issue has to do with—”
Feeling like he was losing the battle, Tank said, “Yeah, but we can’t even go into town for something as simple as a cup of coffee or lunch without being assaulted with full-body hugs and women wanting to measure our biceps and asking us which one is the woobie.”
“We’re both woobies,” Troy chimed in helpfully.
Grace lifted a big wooden spoon from the crock standing on the kitchen island, and in a steely voice, she said, “I’m going to hurt the next person who interrupts me.” That got everyone’s attention.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry, sis.”
“Sorry, Grace.”
Grace rubbed her forehead, and a blush filled her cheeks when Jack came around the island to stand behind her and rub her shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. What I was trying to say, Tank, was that the auction and all the other events are less than a month away. If you dye your hair now, and then try to dye it back, it won’t look right and you risk over-processing and possibly losing your hair. Why not just wear a ball cap or a cowboy hat to cover it? Troy, you could cover yours with that beanie I s
aw you wearing a lot last fall. It’s just a few more weeks.”
Tank caught Jessica’s eye, wondering why she was suddenly so quiet with that pinched look to her brows, but when she looked up and caught him, she gave him a reassuring smile and no hint of what she was thinking.
“Okay,” Troy said. “If this will help all those charities, we’ll deal with it for a few more weeks. I don’t want my hair to fall out from over-dying it.”
Tank gave Grace a nod. “I’m in, with the kilt. What else?”
Grace rubbed a spot on her burgeoning abdomen, and Tank watched it shift a little beneath her hand as she nonchalantly moved on to the next item. “Charity and Justin have contacted all of last years’ Wheelchair Drag Race Relay teams and put out feelers for new teams. Jerry Batson had knee surgery, so he said his team is out. We need a replacement and at least a couple more, sis.”
“Done,” Charity said, making notes on her smartphone. “Chris Potter owes me a favor for taking him lingerie shopping for Gwen.”
Grace giggle-snorted. “Poor Chris.”
“Serves him right for thinking cowgirls don’t care about how their lingerie gets washed. He didn’t follow my helpful tips, but he’ll listen next time.”
“Of course he will,” Grace said. “And this time around, you and Justin can put together a drag team, too.”
“Oh all right,” Charity grumbled. “But if we’re going to do it, y’all better step up your game because we’re going whole hog. Grace, I was thinking since Grandma Kate was going to be visiting that weekend that your guys could team up with her again like last time they participated. I was thinking Team Frank-N-Furter would get lots of donations.”
“Maybe so,” Ethan said with a grin. “But it’ll be hard to run in platform heels.”
Tank chuckled. “Plenty of room under the bus with the rest of us, gentlemen.”
Jack squirmed and sent Charity an appealing smile. “You wouldn’t, would you?”
Charity giggled. “You show up in a G-rated version of Frank-N-Furter’s costume, wearing the platforms, and I’ll let you switch to pink sneakers before the race starts. Self-respecting drag queens know to come prepared. Don’t look so sad. You know as well as I do, the costumes are what get the great turnout and get the most donations. It’s for the kids, remember?”
Operation Ginger Avenger Page 6
