Cowgirl Down (Redneck Debutante)

by Jenny Hammerle

  Just then Tristan and JJ walked up to the truck. “Rachael,” Tristan said to her through her open window, “it’s good to see you again. I just wish it were under different circumstances. But it seems today is your lucky day. I’m not going to press charges against you this time but see that your ‘hiking’ expeditions do not lead you onto my land in the future. As for your friend, Melinda, let her know she has been warned.”

  “Yes, sir. Please believe me when I say I had no idea we were trespassing or looking to pick mushrooms. I thought it was Melinda’s boyfriend’s father’s pasture. She said we were going for a hike.”

  “Understood. Have a good afternoon.” Tristan headed back to his house.

  I’m not sure if he believes me or not, but it’s the truth. I’m not lying!

  But I did break the law. Trespassing, no less.

  Rachael thought of what her mother had said to her last year before her father’s trial. “Ignorance of the law is no excuse.”

  JJ ran Rachael home. When he pulled into the driveway, Rachael was relieved to see her mother and aunt were still not home from work. JJ said nothing about telling them what had happened. He merely said good-bye and drove away. Rachael pondered what had happened today. She knew the right thing to do would be to tell her mother. She busied herself doing chores for a while until she heard her aunt’s car pull into the driveway.

  Now is as good a time as any.

  Rachael waited a few minutes to collect herself, then went into the house prepared for the worst. When she came into the kitchen, her aunt and mother were seated at the kitchen table.

  “Mom. Aunt Margaret. There’s something I need to tell you…”

  “We already know, dear,” her mother said in an even tone. “JJ phoned us on our way home. Would you like to explain what happened today?”

  “It’s simple, really. Melinda asked me to go hiking. I thought it sounded like a good idea. So after school I rode with her to this pasture. When we got there, she acted weird. She started kicking over cow patties with her shoe. It turns out she was looking for mushrooms. It also became apparent the land didn’t belong to her boyfriend, Justin, as I’d thought. We were trespassing on Tristan’s property. I feel horribly about it, and it won’t happen again.”

  “Have a seat.” Her mother gestured to the empty chair at the table.

  Rachael did as her mother asked.

  “Today is Tuesday. After school you should have had dance practice.” Her mother’s eyes penetrated as if seeing to her soul.

  “Yes, I did. I skipped it,” Rachael confessed.

  “Skipped dance? But why? I thought you liked dance.”

  “I do, but lately I’ve found it difficult to go. I needed a break from all of the monotony.”

  “So this isn’t the first time you’ve skipped?”

  Rachael shook her head.

  “How many practices have you skipped, and what have you been doing?”

  “Five practices total. Other than today, I spent the other four afternoons on the boat with Ty, Melinda, and her boyfriend, Justin.”

  “You didn’t even tell me. Anything could have happened to you. I understand you’re going through a difficult transition right now with your father in prison, me working. But, Rachael, you made a commitment. If you are burned out on dance, then don’t dance, but you have to finish the season. Next year don’t do it. Don’t try out again. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “As for the boat trips with Ty and Melinda…” Her mother drew a breath. “I’ve heard some not great things about those two. They are trouble, and I believe they are a bad influence on you. That being said, it’s you who made the bad choices here—skipping dance practice to go boating without permission. Now this thing with the trespassing on Tristan’s land. It is you who is accountable for those choices and no one else. No more skipping dance practice. It’s home, school, dance practice, and back home again for you, my dear, for a month.”

  I’d already planned on doing exactly that. Melinda abandoned me today to take the fall for her bad idea. Now I’m grounded for a month. This skipping practice thing isn’t worth it. It’s bringing me nothing but trouble.

  “Sorry, Mom. I realize what I did was wrong and know I haven’t been making good choices.”

  Rachael’s mother excused her from the table. Rachael was actually relieved one month of being grounded was all the punishment she’d been given. It could have been a lot worse.

  *

  The next afternoon at school she was called into the office by the band director. He questioned her at length about her absences from dance and band practice. Rachael was honest with him and, as a result, was suspended for the remainder of the dance season.

  So much for me not having time to focus on my studies. Now I’ll have plenty of time.

  *

  Later that evening she took a call from her father that went very badly.

  “Hi, Dad. How are you doing?”

  “Not good. I heard about your little charade with Melinda and the trespassing. I’m not going to ask you anything about it. Just know that I’m very disappointed in you.”

  “Dad, I can explain.”

  “No, you can’t, Rachael! No, you can’t. Your mother and aunt are under enough stress without you adding to it!”

  She was shocked. Her father was yelling at her. He’d never yelled at her before, and from the sound of his voice, he was very, very upset with her.

  “But, Dad, you’re being completely unfair here. Look at you…like you have any room to talk. You’re in prison!”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Rachael. Straighten up.” He hung up on her.

  Rachael sat in shocked silence in the darkness of her room.

  8

  WEEK AFTER WEEK PASSED. Rachael felt as if she had gone into hiding. She barely answered her cell phone, checked her emails, or even her Facebook page. She told all of her friends she was too busy with Michael and school to spend time with any of them. She wasn’t on the dance team anymore and had to start riding the bus home from school. It wasn’t all that bad. She always got a seat up front. Maysie and Shannah still had dance practice, so she could no longer catch a ride with them, unless of course she wanted to wait around for a few hours each day.

  Finally one Saturday, while she was outside cleaning the barn, she heard a car drive in. She went out to her front driveway to see who it was.

  Melinda jumped out of the small compact car. “So, you’ve disappeared.”

  Rachael hadn’t talked to Melinda since that fateful day when she’d abandoned Rachael and left her standing in the middle of a cow pasture facing the game warden. Now that Melinda had a car and was driving, she didn’t even ride the bus. Rachael was the only junior on the bus.

  “What’s your deal?” Rachael spat. “You nearly got me arrested for trespassing and shroomin’—whatever that is—and now you show up here weeks later, like nothing is wrong?”

  “I’m totally sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. The shrooms weren’t even for me. They were for a friend. I have a prior juvie record, and if I got busted again, I’d be in serious trouble this time. Please try to understand. I won’t put you in a bad situation again.” Melinda sounded sincere.

  “Fine. Don’t, because next time I won’t be quite so understanding. I’m having a hard enough time with my dad being in prison, my mom working all of the time, and trying to take care of Michael. I don’t need any other trouble.”

  “I can relate. My mom is a single mom. I’m always on my own. Do you want to come stay the night?” Melinda asked. “Like a slumber party?”

  Hmmm. Surely a sleepover couldn’t be any trouble. And I’m not grounded anymore.

  “Sure. I could definitely use a night out. Let me call my mom and ask if she minds.”

  Of course she will mind. This is Melinda, remember?

  “Hi, Mom, it’s me. Melinda stopped by to apologize for last month and asked me if I could come over for a sl
umber party.”

  “And you are asking if you can go?” Her mother sounded reluctant.

  “I am, but I won’t if it’s not okay with you.” Rachael wasn’t even sure she wanted to go herself. She didn’t really trust Melinda since the last ordeal, but life was about forgiveness. Wasn’t it?

  “Sure, you can go, but if she suggests any hikes or rides to pastures or anything other than hanging out at her house, call me. I’ll be over to pick you up.”

  Rachael heard the hint of laughter in her mother’s voice.

  “Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

  Rachael packed her overnight bag, still not sure she was making the right decision but wanting to get out for a night. She and Melinda dropped Michael at Levi’s house on their way to her house.

  *

  When Rachael got to Melinda’s house, they did the typical girl stuff—straightened their hair, painted their nails, did their makeup, and tried on a million different outfits for no particular reason.

  Rachael had noticed when they arrived earlier that there were no parents home at Melinda’s. Melinda had mentioned her mother was a single mom, so she was probably working the night shift or something. Rachael realized how lucky she was her own mother got home by seven o’clock most evenings, and that seven o’clock was considered “working late” around her house. Of course her mom worked the occasional night shift, but even then she was home by midnight.

  She and Melinda were just sitting down to watch a movie when the doorbell rang. It was around eleven o’clock.

  “Are you expecting company?” Rachael joked.

  “You never know,” Melinda said with a sparkle in her eyes. She got up to answer the door. There was something about the way Melinda had answered her question that let Rachael know she was definitely expecting company.

  But who?

  Melinda opened the door. Misty and Honey stood in the doorway in halter tops and short mini-skirts.

  For a girl slumber party? I think you’re both really overdressed, but I’ll keep those thoughts to myself for now.

  “Hey, ladies! We’re here, and we brought the punch!” Misty announced.

  “Good.” Melinda laughed. “Fix Rachael a glass. Anything else in the car?”

  “Nope. Just our sleeping bags,” Honey chimed.

  “Punch?” Rachael asked skeptically.

  “A fruit punch that’s Misty’s specialty. Try it. You’ll love it,” Melinda encouraged.

  Rachael took a sip. It tasted like any other fruit punch. Nothing special. Misty and Honey joined them in the living room to watch their romance movie.

  Thirty minutes later the doorbell sounded again. Rachael had almost finished her second glass of fruit punch and was feeling very relaxed.

  Melinda jumped up and answered the door. This time it was a bunch of other girls and guys Rachael recognized from the hunt camp a few weeks ago. They were all dressed up, and each toted a six-pack of beer. Among them was Ty.

  What kind of slumber party is this?

  Just as Rachael questioned the slumber party, the apparent lack of parents, and the obvious presence of beer, she realized she was feeling a little strange. She’d finished her second glass of fruit punch when the other girls had arrived. Now she was positively tipsy. The room spun, and she had to sit down. Rachael plopped on the couch and wondered if she was ill. Worse, she wondered if she had been drugged.

  Then she passed out.

  *

  Awhile later—Rachael really had no idea how long—she awoke with someone carrying her into a house. Her aunt’s house, if she wasn’t mistaken. That same someone carried her into her bedroom, slipped off her shoes, then gingerly covered her up. She recognized the cologne even before he spoke.

  Travis.

  Rachael kept her eyes closed, pretending to still be passed out.

  How embarrassing. What is Travis doing here? How did he find me? Was he at the party?

  “Be glad you’re asleep. I might otherwise be tempted to kick you in the rear, even if you are a girl.” Then, if she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she heard him laugh. “You’re going to have one heck of a headache tomorrow.”

  Travis left her bedroom and walked out to the family room or kitchen. Rachael couldn’t be sure. But she heard voices—her mother, her aunt, and Travis. What were they saying? It all sounded garbled to Rachael and then she passed out again.

  *

  Bang…bang…bang…bang. The loud banging resonated in Rachael’s ears.

  Someone make it stop. My head is going to explode! Did I get bucked off of a horse again? Maybe I have amnesia. No, I think I may throw up.

  “Are you up? Or do I need to bang this cast-iron skillet again?” her Aunt Margaret demanded.

  “No, I’m up. What’s wrong with me?” Rachael suddenly remembered Misty’s fruit punch.

  “I don’t know, but I do know what will cure ya. Get up. Get dressed to work. No nice shoes. Boots is what you’ll need.”

  Rachael rolled over and squinted at her clock. It was a little after six in the morning. She crawled out of bed. If I’m not mistaken, my aunt is mad at me. I guess I’ll soon find out why.

  Rachael dressed in what she thought was record time but couldn’t have been any faster than a snail’s pace because before she had her boots on, her aunt was back at the door with the frying pan. Her mother stood beside her.

  “We’ve been too easy on you, young lady,” her aunt was saying. “Everyone around here has been working twice as hard to make ends meet. And you obviously have too much time on your hands. So we’ve arranged for you to start a job. Today.”

  “Coffee is in the kitchen, and breakfast is on the counter,” her mother directed. “If you think you can stomach it.” After that they were both gone.

  I’m obviously in a world of trouble. Does it matter if I didn’t know that I was knocking back spiked fruit punch? I guess not. I was at an unchaperoned guy-girl slumber party.

  Travis! I hate him. Was he there? And if so, he brought me home and ratted me out. What kind of friend is he?

  Rachael stumbled down the hall, feeling as if she could fall down at any moment. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Travis sitting at the bar in her kitchen. “You have a knack for showing up at the worst possible times,” Rachael growled.

  “You can thank me later. Ready to go to work?” he drawled out.

  “If you think I’m going anywhere with you, you are mistaken,” she spat.

  “Well, you can either ride with me, or you can walk. But today, considering your current semi-sober condition, I don’t think you’d make it that far. But suit yourself, Princess.”

  “Princess?” Rachael narrowed her eyes.

  “Yes. I figure by about mid-morning you’ll be hugging the throne, if you know what I mean. Egg and cheese sandwich?” Travis offered her his breakfast sandwich.

  The mere thought of it turned Rachael’s stomach. “No thanks. Let’s go.”

  She went with Travis reluctantly. She had little other choice. It was Sunday morning, and both her mother and aunt were off work today. They would notice if she sneaked back to her room and hid out for the remainder of the day. No. Rachael was a big enough person to admit when she had messed up. Everyone had warned her to stay away from Melinda and her crowd, but she wouldn’t listen. Now look what it had gotten her—sick and probably grounded for life.

  Rachael climbed in the passenger side of Travis’s truck with considerable assistance from him. She felt as if she had sea-legs, wobbly and weak.

  Once inside Travis handed her a Gatorade. “Here. Drink this. You are going to need it.”

  As much as Rachael wanted to refuse the drink, she accepted it and took a couple of huge swigs.

  “That was a stupid thing you did last night,” he said calmly. “You’re lucky I got there when I did. Moonshine can be pretty rough stuff. I can’t believe you even tried it.”

  So that was it. Moonshine. I’ve heard about moonshine. It’s supposedly colorless and sometimes flav
orless. That explains why I didn’t know it was in the punch.

  “Yeah. Thanks a lot, Travis, for coming to my rescue and getting me into a heap of trouble. I really appreciate it,” Rachael said sarcastically.

  “I’m going to ignore that last comment. One of us has to be the sober, mature one here, and I’d say that, after last night, that person is me.”

  When they got to Travis’s house, he jumped out and, for the first time ever, didn’t come around to open Rachael’s door or help her get out. She opened her own door and carefully slid to the ground. He had gone inside and didn’t even bother to wait for her. Rachael trudged her way up the front steps and tapped lightly on the front door.

  Mrs. Baxter was there in her housecoat. “Rachael, you poor dear. Come in and have a seat. Can I get you anything?”

  Thank goodness. At least one person still likes me.

  “Don’t baby her, Ginny,” Mr. Baxter bellowed from the kitchen. “She’s here to work, and from what I understand she’s been getting into a bit of trouble lately.” He continued issuing commands. “Travis, take her out to the barn and show her what to do.”

  Then, to Rachael, Mr. Baxter said, “Young lady, your mother and aunt are good women. I will not allow you to tarnish your own name or theirs with such behavior. I have offered you a paying job in exchange for straightening you out. Your aunt and mother have agreed to ten dollars per hour—on the weekends, of course. Are we agreed?”

  Rachael had no idea what she’d agreed to but simply nodded. Normally she’d have taken offense to the way Mr. Baxter had spoken to her, but seeing as he was six feet four and very large, not to mention ticked off, she figured this morning was probably not the best time to pick a fight with Goliath.

  Rachael followed Travis meekly to the barn, still clutching her Gatorade. He pointed to the tack room. “Brooms, rakes, pitchforks—they’re all in there. Wheelbarrow is around back. You’ll see a pile of manure in the back corner of the ten-acre pasture. Dump it there.” He turned to walk away.

  “Where are you going?”