by Kim Redford
“Busy place.”
“It was a lot like Wildcat Bluff, except not as fancy.” He followed the asphalt two-lane road that turned into Main Street.
“Oh my, it looks like the set of an Old West film. Please slow down so I can see it better.”
Sure-Shot had a classic wooden false-front commercial district. A line of single-story businesses connected by a boardwalk, covered porticos, and tall facade parapets extending above the roofs were individually painted in green, blue, or yellow with white trim. Small clapboard houses with wide front porches and fancy double-wides fanned out around the downtown area. A few pickups and Jeeps were parked in front of the businesses, but a couple of saddle horses with their reins wrapped around the hitching post in front of the Bluebonnet Café switched their tails.
When Rowdy kept driving, she turned to look at him. “Aren’t we going to the Bluebonnet Café?”
“Yeah. There’s not much more, but I thought you’d like to see the rest of downtown.”
“Thanks.”
“Folks enjoy getting together at the park on Sunday afternoons for the Summer Music of Sure-Shot as well as other stuff.” He slowed in front of the park where a white Victorian-style bandstand dominated the short, golden grass and leafless trees.
“What a great gathering place.” She glanced at him. “I can see why you like it here.”
“The beauty shop was repurposed from an old Sinclair gas station that was originally used as a livery for horses and mules.”
“Something else fun here. I like it, too.” She saw that the Sure-Shot Beauty Station was located in a building with the same tall, flat, wooden false front as the other structures. All the turquoise beauty chairs inside were filled with women. “Looks like it’s doing a big business.”
“Popular, alright.”
He made a U-turn in front of the beauty salon before he started back down Main Street. He parked in front of the Bluebonnet Café, switched off the engine, and turned to look at her.
“Arn might not be here. If he is, he might not talk to us.”
“That’s okay. All we can do is try to see him.” She gave Rowdy an encouraging smile even as she wished she was better dressed for the occasion. Clothes might not make the woman, but stylish never hurt. Then again, maybe she was so caught up in clothes that it never entered her mind not to consider their importance.
When he opened her door, she hopped down and took his hand. He smiled at her, giving an encouraging nod. They stepped up on the boardwalk, where a couple of cowboys sat on a long, wooden bench outside the café eating ice cream from waffle cones.
“Howdy.” Rowdy smiled as he opened the front door.
Both men nodded in reply but kept eating their ice cream.
Belle stepped inside and immediately loved the café’s interior. It appeared to have been updated and upgraded in the fifties with no changes since that time. The interior was all chrome, red-vinyl booths and barstools, gray-linoleum floor, and rough-wood walls decorated with framed photos of veterans and rodeo winners.
A few folks sat at several of the chrome-framed tables with laminate surfaces and matching chrome chairs with red-vinyl seats. A glossy black-and-white poster of Annie Oakley in a fancy cowgirl costume with a smoking Colt .45 in each hand graced the wall behind the old-fashioned soda fountain with round barstools in front of it.
At a small table by a front window, two men sat in chairs across from each other and stared downward, concentrating on a checkerboard.
Belle started to head that way, but she was waylaid by a server with a big smile. She wore cat-eye, rhinestone eyeglasses, and her bright red hair was pulled back in a curly ponytail. She’d squeezed her long-limbed, athletic body into a turquoise tunic matched with hot-pink tights and purple cowgirl boots. She had a yellow pencil stuck in her hair and an order pad clutched in her hand.
“Elsie, good to see you,” Rowdy said.
“Ber—”
“Let me introduce you to Belle Tarleton. She took over the Lazy Q.”
“Hello,” Belle said. “I love the café.”
“She’s the owner, cook, and chief bottle washer.” Rowdy chuckled as he gestured around the room.
“That means I work 24/7 with nary a break,” Elsie said.
“I know what you mean. But it’s fun, too, isn’t it?”
“On good days,” Elsie agreed. “On bad days…let’s forget them.”
“I totally agree,” Belle said.
“Belle runs a business, too,” Rowdy said. “Maybe you’ve heard of Lulabelle & You.”
Elsie’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re that Belle Tarleton?”
“On good days.” Belle chuckled at continuing the joke. “On bad days, I try to be somebody else.”
“How’s that working out?” Elsie joined her laughter.
“About how you’d expect.”
“I hear you.” Elsie cocked her head to the side.
“I wish we had time to eat,” Rowdy said, “but we’re here to talk with Arn.”
“Good luck on that one.” Elsie shook her head. “He’s playing checkers. And he’s serious about his game.”
“He might talk with us,” Rowdy said. “The Buick Brigade sent us.”
“Wow. How’d you get involved with that bunch?”
“They took a liking to Belle.”
Elsie gave Belle another look…one of deep respect. “I guess they like your style.”
“I don’t know,” Belle said. “But they did bring me cookies.”
“Double wow. Cowboy cookies?”
“Right,” Belle said.
“Were you able to name their shapes?”
“Not so as I’d take an oath on it.”
“Join the club.” Elsie glanced around the room as she checked on her customers. “Tasty though, aren’t they?”
“Delicious,” Belle agreed. “If I got it right, they’re Fernando’s favorite.”
“I heard that, too.” Elsie laughed harder. “Listen, I’d like to stay and chat, but work calls.”
“Go ahead,” Rowdy said. “We’re going to try and snag a moment of Arn’s time. Wish us luck.”
“Good luck. You’ll definitely need it.” And Elsie sashayed over to the nearest table with customers.
“She’s wonderful,” Belle said in a low voice. “Everybody I meet in Wildcat Bluff County is just terrific.”
“I hope that includes present company.”
She leaned in close. “If you’ll take me home soon, I’ll show you just how wonderful I think you are.”
“It’s a date. But first, let’s go see Arn.”
She didn’t know what to expect, but the moment they approached the checkerboard table, one of the cowboys stood up, grabbed his hat from the back of the chair, and quickly left the café. The other one slowly stood up and turned to her. She felt her breath catch in her throat because she wanted him—oh, how she wanted him—in a photo shoot.
He was tall, lithe, muscular, and handsome in the way a ninety-or-so-year-old man should be if he’d lived right, loved right, and worked right…and if he still resided in the Old West. He could’ve passed for Buffalo Bill Cody in his old photos with the flowing locks of thick, silver hair, a handlebar mustache, and a trimmed beard. He looked at her with lively blue eyes in a strong, tanned face.
“Howdy, ma’am,” he said in a deep, rich baritone with that slow, mesmerizing Texas accent. “How may I help you?”
She smiled, and it felt like a silly one because it was a wonder she didn’t melt right down into ooze on the floor, even with Rowdy standing right beside her. This man had the “it factor” in spades. And she ought to know, since she looked for it in every single model book that came her way.
“She has a few questions for you,” Rowdy said.
Arn held out his hand, all big-boned, rough, and
raw…but with long, sensitive fingers. “Arn Thorsen at your service.”
“Belle Tarleton. Thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me.” She’d suddenly gone formal and knew why—to show respect for him. She put her hand in his big one and felt enveloped in his warmth and appreciation.
He held her hand a moment. Then he gave a slight smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and let her go.
She definitely wanted him in a photo shoot, if at all possible.
He lifted a hand and motioned to the chair across from him. “Please join me.”
She quickly sat down, glancing at the game and then back at him.
“Do you play?” he asked.
“Not today.”
“Another time, another place…perhaps.”
“I’d enjoy it.”
“Good.” He glanced up. “Rowdy, uh, right?”
“Yes.” Rowdy frowned. “That’s exactly right.”
“Today anyway.” Arn chuckled, as if he’d said something funny.
Rowdy frowned harder.
“Why don’t you pull up a chair and join…unless you’d prefer to be with the lovely Elsie.”
Rowdy grabbed a chair from a nearby table, turned it around, and sat down with his arms folded across the back in an aggressive manner.
Belle realized she might have been a bit too appreciative of Arn, so she leaned back in her chair to put distance between them.
“Something to drink or eat?” Arn asked.
“Thank you, but no.”
“You want to get straight to business. I appreciate a woman with a mind and a will of her own. Shoot.” He gave another smile that hinted at extensive knowledge and experience.
She cleared her throat, not sure how to get the ball rolling without losing him from the get-go. He appeared to be a straightforward man, so she’d go with that impression. “It’s about the one-room schoolhouse and the memorial grove.”
He smiled a bit more, leaning back in his chair. “So…it’s finally come to light.”
“Yes.”
“And your interest?”
“It’s a mystery.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I guess it’s a mystery to me…and some other people.”
He stroked his mustache with the forefinger of one hand. “And you want to know what about it?”
“I’d like to know what happened there.”
“Fire.”
“Yes, I saw it.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Yes…a bit earlier.”
Arn glanced at Rowdy and then back at her. “Why?”
“Buick Brigade,” Rowdy said.
Arn’s right eyebrow shot up. “The ladies of Destiny sent you?”
“They gave her cookies. They sent her pigeon messages. They invited her to Destiny.”
Arn grinned, revealing strong white teeth. “Now don’t that beat all.”
“I’m pretty busy,” Belle said, “but I’m taking time to try and deal with their goal…whatever it is.”
“Which we’re not sure about just yet,” Rowdy said.
“The ladies do have their goals…and their ways of achieving them.” Arn glanced out the front window and then back again. “It’s Christmas, right?”
“We’re almost there,” Rowdy said. “As usual, we’re overworked and behind schedule.”
“Drive-in ready to go, I take it?” Arn asked.
“About like always,” Rowdy said.
Belle looked from one to the other, wondering what the drive-in had to do with Rowdy. Maybe he volunteered or even worked there during the holiday festivities.
“Samantha likes the place.” Arn glanced at Belle. “That’s my hell-raiser of a granddaughter. Chip off the old block, most folks say, but I can’t see it myself.”
“She’s one hell of a horsewoman, no two ways about it,” Rowdy said.
“It’s in the blood.” Arn looked at Belle. “Pardon us. We’re being rude to discuss someone you’ve never met.”
“That’s okay. I’m new to the area.”
“But not to the Lone Star State,” Arn said. “That’s an East Texas accent, if I don’t miss my guess.”
“You’re right.” She smiled, liking him better all the time.
“What is it you want to know about the schoolhouse?” Arn asked.
“First and foremost, did anybody survive the fire?” She leaned forward, really wanting to hear his reply.
“Yes.” He glanced out the window before he focused on them again. “You’ll want to know the details, but they’re not mine to give.”
“Oh, please, at least tell if—”
“It was before my time.”
“But still—”
He held out his hands and turned them palms up. “Out of my hands.”
“It’s important.” She leaned forward, feeling her goal, her vision slipping away. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could turn that beautiful building and grove into a learning center again? I’m willing to do the work…and others will help, too. Maybe even you.”
He nodded, rocking in his chair. “So it’s come…finally.”
“What?”
“An ending—”
“Maybe so, but—”
“And beginning…”
She glanced at Rowdy, who looked as confused as she felt. Why couldn’t she just get a straight answer around here? If she ran her business this way, she’d never get anything done.
Arn stood up and held out his hand, palm up.
Rowdy got to his feet and set his chair back in place.
Was the meeting over? She stood up, too, and put her fingers over Arn’s palm.
He lifted her fingers to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. “I will be happy to give you everything you desire…once the ladies of Destiny release me from my vows.”
“Thank you. I’ll talk with them.”
“Do that.” He plucked his cowboy hat from the back of his chair and walked out of the café.
Belle fell back into her seat.
Rowdy sat down across from her.
She felt like picking up the checkerboard and tossing pieces of black and red onto the floor in frustration. “Is it always this way in Wildcat Bluff County?”
Chapter 29
Belle was tired and discouraged by the time Rowdy drove them back to Lulabelle & You Ranch. Darkness had descended, wrapping the land in soft shadows. She couldn’t help but wonder how the schoolhouse looked at night. Was it eerie? Was it sad? Or was it simply sleepy? She still felt the lingering effects of her visit there…part good, part bad.
Rowdy stopped his pickup on the circular drive near the front door where a warm, yellow light on the porch welcomed them. “Do you want me to come inside or go home?”
“Please come inside. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“I don’t want to leave you either.” He turned off the engine, and quiet surrounded them.
“It was kind of a rough day, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I wish Arn had told us more about the fire.”
“He gave us the best news of all.”
“Survivors. I’m so happy somebody escaped the schoolhouse.”
“It’s a relief.” He glanced at her. “If you want to learn more, you’ll need to contact the Buick Brigade.”
“I know.” She sighed. “If I could do it, I’d use a homing pigeon.”
He chuckled softly. “That’s for later. Right now, let’s go inside. It’s already getting chilly in here.”
As they walked up to the porch, she saw a gift bag nestled up against the front door. “What’s that?”
“Let me check it before you touch it.”
�
��Do you think the shingle thieves left me something dangerous?” She started to laugh at the absurdity of the idea and then stopped because she didn’t know what might come at her next.
“No. I’m just being cautious.”
While he picked up the bag, she opened the front door. Once inside, she locked it securely behind them.
He looked inside the bag, grinned, and handed it to her.
“What is it?”
“See for yourself.”
“Let’s go into the kitchen.” She walked in there, flipped on an overhead light, and then set her purse and the bag on the table.
She liked the gift bag because it had a pretty red-and-blue-bandana motif, which she thought was a great idea. She parted the green tissue paper and pulled out a T-shirt. She smiled at the sight of “Fernando the Wonder Bull” emblazoned across the front. She checked the little attached card and read, “Welcome to Wildcat Bluff County…xoxo, Storm, Fernando, and Daisy Sue (in absentia).”
“You have to admit that girl has style,” Rowdy said as he looked at the gift.
“She’s just got it all.” Belle felt the T-shirt’s soft fabric, considering the design and thought behind it. “Sharp and savvy.”
“I’m glad Storm welcomed you to the county.” He reached out and cupped Belle’s chin. “I wish more people had done it.”
“It’s okay. In this day and age, it’s not so important anymore.”
“Friendliness is always important.”
“That’s true. We strive for it at Lulabelle & You.” She tucked the T-shirt back into its bag. “Anyway, I do believe there’s an ulterior motive behind this gift.”
He laughed. “No doubt.”
She laughed harder, releasing pent-up tension and feeling better about the day. “I really will give a Fernando and Daisy Sue line some thought.”
“It might work.”
“And it’d be fun.”
“Yeah.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Anything to eat?”
“I’m hungry, too.”
“I could run to the Chuckwagon Café and bring something back.”
“I wish we’d eaten at the Bluebonnet, but I didn’t want us to get distracted there.”
“We’ll go back sometime…maybe when we go to the drive-in.”
“Perfect.” She walked over to the refrigerator, opened the door, and looked inside. “We can make sandwiches.”
