Best Friends in the Show Me State

by Jessie Gussman

  “That’s fine. We have a couple spare rooms, and she can take her pick.”

  “Yay!” Kylie shouted from the back. “I want Chandler’s old room. He’s got dinosaur bones in it.”

  Marlowe had forgotten about that. Chandler was so good looking, and such a successful movie actor, that she kinda forgot he had a brain sometimes.

  “It’s yours, kid.” He looked back at Marlowe. “And you’re welcome to stay on the couch again if you want. Or I can try to be earlier.”

  “No,” she said immediately. He hardly ever got out, just this once-a-month gathering. She certainly didn’t want him to cut short the one evening that he actually took off each month. When things got busy in the spring and fall, he might not even make it. “You can be as late as you want. I’ll bring a few clothes and plan on sleeping on the couch.”

  “We’ll just be in the back room of the feed mill. It’s only a mile away. I’ll keep an eye on the weather, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

  She gave him a smile, and he grinned at her. They both knew, of all the things she worried about, she didn’t worry about the weather. She supposed she should. Cowboy Crossing was located front and center in tornado alley, being as it was in Missouri.

  Everyone in Missouri paid attention to the weather come springtime.

  “Okay. You want me to admit that you have me spoiled. I admit it. I don’t worry about the weather.”

  “You’re the only person in Missouri who doesn’t. Especially this time of year.”

  “Fine.” She slapped the roof of the car. “You want me to admit it. I don’t have a problem with that. That’s because you do it for me.”

  “Relax, Low Beam. You don’t have to get all huffy about it.”

  She rolled her eyes at her nickname. She couldn’t even remember how he gave it to her. But she had one for him, and she broke it out. “I am relaxed, Gable. You’re the one that was trying to rub it in, and we both know why I don’t pay attention to the weather.”

  He grinned at her use of his nickname. They both knew how he got it, although neither one of them probably remembered exactly where or when she’d first seen Gone with the Wind and started calling him Clark Gable instead of Clark Hudson. Eventually, she had shortened it to just Gable, only using it when he called her Low Beam.

  His eyes were smiling, but there was a little bit of a cloud in there, and she knew he was probably worried about her.

  Watching the weather stressed her. Which was why she didn’t do it. He was one of the few who knew it. They never really talked about it anyway. She’d actually never told him; he’d just seen her have a panic attack once as she’d walked through the room where he had been watching the weather. From that point on, he made a point of making sure that she knew he’d watch it for her, and he let her know if she needed to know anything.

  She didn’t worry about the weather exactly; there was just something about watching people talk about it on TV, especially bad weather coming, that scared her.

  Half the time, the weather people were wrong anyway. No point in being scared unnecessarily.

  Clark could handle it.

  “Keep an eye on your cell phone. The weather is not supposed to come until this evening sometime after supper. If it comes at all.”

  “Can we stand outside and watch the lightning, Dad?” Huck asked.

  Clark’s guilty look clashed with her accusing one. She crossed her arms over her chest, and she knew her look was saying, yeah, that’s real safe.

  She didn’t say anything, though, because she didn’t want to scare Huck.

  “Okay, you guys be safe.” She tapped her hand on the roof of his pickup once more, blew an air kiss to Kylie, and waved at Huck before shutting the door.

  Clark didn’t waste any time before driving away. She watched him go, knowing, although he was very different than her and wouldn’t be as careful as she, her child could be in no better hands.

  Chapter 2

  Clark pulled into his house, late.

  Marlowe would understand. She’d grown up around farmers and ranchers, and she knew all about working while the sun shone. So all he’d have to do would be to tell her that the planter broke down, and he had to spend three hours fixing it, then mention the rain that was coming this evening, and she’d know exactly why he was late. He’d needed to get things done and as much corn in the ground as he could before it got too wet to work.

  Still, he knew it wasn’t easy to be at home with two hungry five-year-olds. He hated that he’d done that to Marlowe. Although, of course, he’d texted her to let her know.

  She could’ve gone into the diner and picked up the food, but he hadn’t really thought about it and she didn’t suggest it.

  Slamming the pickup door shut, he walked around the other side to get the take-out containers that were sitting on the floor. The wind blew, rattling the leaves in the big old oak that stood between his house and hers.

  His home was the old farmhouse, the original one on the property, although her home was almost as old, but only half as big. It had been deeded off the farm at some point in its history.

  Her family had lived in it all his life. After her mother and sister had died in the car accident, Marlowe had used the life insurance money to pay down the mortgage then had taken over the rest of the payments. She’d just paid it off last year.

  Another gust of wind blew, and he glanced up at the budding leaves on the oak tree as he started up the walk. Bright green and pretty, they still weren’t full-size, but they waved in the strong spring wind.

  He and his brothers, along with Marlowe and her sister Elanor, had built a makeshift treehouse in that tree and climbed it for years.

  He looked at the one branch that leaned way over her house. When they were about seven, they’d each had their first kiss there. They’d both hated it; she’d even spit and almost pushed him off the tree. To be honest, he wasn’t any more impressed with her kissing ability.

  Kind of laughed at the thought.

  They hadn’t exactly had a verbal agreement from that time on to just be friends, but that was what had happened.

  Marlowe had grown into a beautiful woman. Although she was definitely bossy and a control freak. If a guy could live with that, he’d have a pretty, bossy control freak as a wife. But she hadn’t found anyone that gullible yet.

  He chuckled, knowing he wasn’t really being serious with himself. Marlowe would make any man a wonderful wife.

  The empty plastic bucket he used to water the plants skidded across the porch as a stronger gust of wind puffed across the yard.

  He couldn’t believe the bucket had made it through the winter. He made a mental note to pick it up sometime when he had hands.

  He was just about to bang his elbow on the door when it opened. “My goodness, it’s getting windy out. Come on in here.” Marlowe stood in jeans and a pink shirt, her hair in a ponytail and her face scrubbed clean, holding both doors open.

  “She’s still just as bossy as she ever was.”

  “If you’re not nice to me, I’ll take the food and shut the door in your face.”

  “This is my house. We forgot that?”

  “Regardless of whose house it is, you still have to be nice to me. You can go to my house. I have the kids here.”

  “I wasn’t being unkind. I just simply stated the fact. You’re still bossy.”

  “Everyone knows bossiness is not an appealing character trait. And I’m working on it. The very least you can do is be kind.”

  “Be kind? You want me to lie?”

  She huffed a breath, and he chuckled as she pulled the screen door shut behind him and then closed the solid door with a snap.

  “Where are the kids? I thought they would attack me when I came in. I’m sorry about being late.”

  “I gave them some flour and water and food coloring, and they’re down in the cellar doing experiments.”

  “Whoa. They’re liable to get dirty.”

  “It’s ok
ay if they get dirty now. They’re not on their way to school.”

  She followed him back down the hall to the kitchen where he set the stuff on the table.

  “I had to do something to keep them occupied. They’re starving.” There was a pause, which made him turn. She had a little grin tripping around the corners of her mouth. That never boded well. “I had to give them your cupcakes.”

  “My cupcakes? The ones you promised me?” He tried to keep his voice from squeaking, but he couldn’t contain his dismay.

  She looked over her shoulder. “Yep. I had no choice. The kids were starving. I understand that the corn planter broke and that you had to finish planting before you could quit. But they didn’t. At least their stomachs didn’t. Although, once their stomachs had cupcakes in them, they were much more understanding.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you fed my child cupcakes for supper?”

  “I guess you’ve influenced me after all, haven’t you?”

  He would’ve laughed, because he knew she was joking. But he was actually kind of worried.

  Were there really no cupcakes?

  “Did you not even save me one back?” He had half of one this morning, and it was about the best cupcake he’d ever eaten. Marlowe could cook like sixty.

  Her dream, once upon a time, had been to go to college. He was pretty sure she wasn’t going to culinary school, but she’d been interested in chemistry. He had no idea what kind of job someone with a chemistry degree could get. Maybe they had to get another degree to go with their chemistry degree in order to get a job. That’s probably the kind of degree it was. But still, Marlowe could be so much more than just the clerk at the feed store. But she’d given it all up for her sister and for Kylie.

  “You’re looking very sad, Gable.”

  “Something about the cupcakes that I didn’t get to eat. It would make any man sad.”

  He would never tell her he’d been thinking about the college education she didn’t get. She’d blow that off anyway, and she definitely wouldn’t want to be told about it. She didn’t consider it a sacrifice. She considered it a duty. An honorable duty, he supposed.

  But if she hadn’t given up her college education, she’d probably have come back married. Or maybe she wouldn’t have come back at all. But she would’ve been married. There’s no way she could have made it through four years of college without having some guy snap her up.

  Her honey blond hair cascaded in her ponytail, and the ends danced between her shoulder blades.

  She set the bags down on the table and turned, looking at him under her lashes. “Did you get me an eggplant Parmesan sub with ranch dressing, mushrooms, and spinach?”

  One side of his lips tilted up. “Maybe.” He tried to keep his lips from breaking into a grin. “What’s in it for me if I did?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe, just maybe, I could remember that I hid half a dozen cupcakes somewhere.” She tapped her chin with her first finger. “The location is coming to me. I just need to hear you say the right words.”

  “I’m sorry, but eggplant Parmesan with ranch dressing, mushrooms, and spinach is just gross. I couldn’t order that if you paid me to.”

  “You’ve ordered it before.”

  “And I almost got run out of town. People think you’re weird when you eat like that.”

  “No,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “People think you are weird when I eat like that. Because you order it.”

  “Exactly. I have a reputation to uphold in this town. I can’t have people looking at me like I’m some weirdo from out east.”

  “You’ve just insulted millions of people.”

  “No, I didn’t. I just insulted one weirdo. From out east.”

  “The insinuation is that people from out east are weird. Just because they’re not like you does not mean that they’re weird.”

  “I didn’t say that. I just said the weirdo, that people think I am, comes from out east. Which is obviously where all weird things come from.”

  “See? You did it again. There are millions of people who are offended at you right now.”

  He shook his head. For being such a straight-laced, punctual, almost-OCD person, Marlowe could be a real goofball. Maybe that was how they had managed to get along for so long. Because she didn’t take herself too seriously. And she definitely didn’t take him seriously. “Listen, I’ll apologize to every single one of them if you manage to remember where you put the cupcakes.”

  He walked over to the oven and opened the door. That was her go-to spot. It was empty.

  “You’re not gonna find them. You might as well stop looking.”

  “I found them before. Just give me time.”

  “You found something I hid, exactly one time, when we were ten and Chandler didn’t close his eyes while you guys were supposed to be counting, and he told you where they were. That’s not a very good track record.”

  “My lucky streak is just about to start. Today.”

  “Tell me you got me the eggplant Parmesan sandwich with ranch dressing and mushrooms and spinach. That’s all you have to do.”

  “I told you. I have a reputation to uphold in this town. I can’t even say that without people starting to whisper about locking me in the tower.”

  Marlowe crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toe. The pink shirt she wore made her gray eyes look green. Sometimes they would turn blue depending on her outfit. And they definitely could flash and snap with temper, although not nearly the way they used to. She’d grown into a pretty even-tempered person.

  His stomach rumbled, he was dirty, and he still needed to shower before he could leave. He figured he’d teased her long enough.

  “I got you the sandwich that you wanted. It’s in the bag. It would be easy for you to look for yourself.”

  “I just want you to tell me.”

  “I ordered it, eggplant Parmesan, with ranch dressing, which is gross by the way, with mushrooms and spinach. No one in their right mind would like that, let alone eat it. But go get it, since that’s what’s in the bag sitting on my table.”

  Her smile was smug, and she blinked her eyes. “Your cupcakes are in the garbage can.”

  His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  He narrowed his eyes, looking at her. She looked like she was telling the truth. Marlowe never lied. Although she would tease him to death and back, on occasion. He hoped that this was one of those occasions.

  “Well, you’re right about one thing, I definitely would never have thought to look there.”

  If possible, her smile got even more smug. “Didn’t think so, which is why I put them there.”

  He tried to remember when the last time was he’d emptied the garbage can.

  “I hope you had them in some kind of container.”

  “No. There’s no way I’m gonna throw my good container away.”

  She sounded serious about that too.

  He took two steps toward the garbage can before her voice stopped him. “Gable, I cannot believe that you believe me. Really? You seriously think I would put the cupcakes in the garbage can? That is disgusting.” He looked up at her, and she was shaking her head. “No. What is actually disgusting is that you were really going to go over to the garbage can, and get the cupcakes out, and eat them. That’s what’s really disgusting.”

  Okay. He could see what was going on here. “You knew I was going to make fun of you for the disgusting sandwich that you always order. So you had to devise a way to make fun of me for being disgusting. Am I right?”

  She bit her lip, and her shoulders drooped. “Too juvenile?”

  He flattened his lips and nodded. “Wish I’da thought of it first.”

  She lifted her lip a little. “I really didn’t think about it until we were in the kitchen and you were looking in the oven and I saw the garbage can. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  “It’s your inner child coming out, then?”
>
  “You didn’t know I had one of those?”

  “I have to admit she did surprise me. I haven’t seen it for a while. That inner child.”

  She walked over to the refrigerator, opened the door, moved a gallon of milk and two dozen eggs, and pulled out the cupcakes that were hidden behind it. “These are all yours. I did give the kids a couple, but there should still be enough for you to take tonight. Depending on how many guys are going to be there.”

  “There’s never more than a dozen or so of us.”

  “Well, there’s two dozen there. Twenty-three if you eat one before you go.” She laughed. “Which I assume you’re going to do.”

  “Hey, these have blue icing.”

  “Well, yeah. I could hardly send two dozen cupcakes that were decorated in pink icing to the guys’ gossip night.”

  He loved that about her. She’d been planning on sending cupcakes with him all along and had made these especially for it.

  “People say you’re a hard woman, but they don’t know you like I do.”

  “Shut up.” She snapped the dish towel off the refrigerator handle and threw it at his head.

  He caught it easily, reaching out, taking the cupcakes out of her hands, and draping the dish towel over her face. “Now that’s a pretty good look if I do say so myself. Anytime you want help with your wardrobe, just ask.”

  “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.” She yanked the towel off and rolled her eyes. “If I’d ever needed you to dress me, we would not have remained best friends.”

  “Do you think I have time to take a shower before you call the kids up?” He set the cupcakes down on the table, opened the container up, and took one out. Sure, the guys would rip him because there was a cupcake missing out of the 24-space container, but he didn’t care. In fact, he thought as he took a big bite, it was better than he remembered from this morning, and he might have to eat two.

  “I’m sure that we’re fine. I actually let them eat two cupcakes apiece. Which I shouldn’t have done, but I felt bad after they were only able to have half a cupcake this morning.”