Spring Fever Daddies

by Rayanna Jamison

  The bartender called me darlin’ when I ordered my whiskey and coke and checked on me every time she walked by, often whispering gossip or pieces of advice about the other patrons.

  “Oh, honey, keep away from those wannabe cowboys over there in the corner. They are trying to blend in, but they honestly wouldn’t know a horse from a hole in the ground, and their goal all week has been to pick up some fresh young farm girl. They haven’t had any luck, probably cause I’ve been giving them all the same warning I just gave you,” she whispered with a wink, pointing to a group of men in jean jackets and levis gathered around the jukebox.

  When a friendly looking man twice my age perched on the stool next to me and declared that he would have ‘a Coors Light and whatever the young lady is having’, she served it up with a smile.

  “Don’t worry about Bud, here. He’s just a lonely old widower. He’ll buy you a drink or two and chat you up, but he won’t try to take you home. Although, if the right song comes on, he might ask you to dance.”

  Dance? I looked around the bar and noticed a big empty wooden floor near the stage. What was the right song? So far, I’d only heard them play country, and I was pretty sure I didn’t know how to dance to it.

  She was right about Bud, though. He was perfectly harmless and still in love with his deceased wife. He knew Nan and the ranch and nodded happily when I announced my affiliation and explained what I was doing there. “Nan’s getting up in her years.” He spoke with a thoughtful nod. “It’s good for her that she’s gathering her family around her. And it’s good that you guys are working hard to see the that the ranch and the legacy that she’s created continue long after she’s gone. But I hope she sticks around a while. This community wouldn’t be the same without her.” I nodded agreement and wiped away stray tears. And that was apparently all the invitation Bud needed to order me another drink.

  Bud was easy to talk to, and before I knew it, I was pouring out my life story and listening to him talk about his dead wife. She had fallen from a horse in a storm, hitting her head on a downed tree. The sad story made me think of Brody and his hatred of horses or, as he liked to call them, beasts. I knew they would have noticed my absence by now, and I knew hiding from them wasn’t what I really needed to do. But doing what I needed to do might mean leaving the ranch, and I wasn’t ready to go home just yet.

  I stared into another full drink that Dorothea just placed in front of me and wondered what number it was. I started to push it away and ask for a cup of coffee, when Bud slammed his hand down on the bar and grabbed my hand. “Come on, little lady, let’s dance.”

  Before my mouth could form an argument, my feet were following him onto the dance floor, where a large crowd gathered and formed a line across the floor. Oh my God, were we really getting ready to line dance? Was this happening? My drunken self was beyond the point of self-consciousness and inwardly delighted. I had zero idea what I was doing, but Bud was a patient teacher, and I just copied him and the person in front of me. Surely, I looked like a fool, but who cared? It was fun, and it was a new experience. And it kept me from having to go home. When the song ended, the group erupted with cheers, clapping and twirling each other around.

  “A round on me!” somebody yelled over the din. Everybody flocked to the bar to put in their order. I took my seat and didn’t ask for a drink, still having one in front of me from earlier. No sooner had I finished it, than a second one appeared. I swayed a little in my seat and wondered if anybody here had ever heard of a cut off line.

  Just the same, I sucked down the drink quicker than I had the one before it. I was feeling great and loose and without inhibition, but more than that, I felt safe. This place, this bar, these people—this was my home now. I could stay here in Texas and find a job and not have to work at the ranch and still be able to be close to Nan. People liked me here, and it was better than having to go home to Chicago with my tail tucked between my legs and beg for my old job back, admitting that I had made a terrible mistake.

  I held my finger up to catch Dorothea’s attention and wondered if I should order another drink. I think I was up to four. Maybe five. Before I had a chance to make my decision, she slammed two cups down in front of me. One had water. The other coffee. Well, that was that. Suddenly dehydrated, I chugged the water, downing the entire glass in the span of a minute before reaching for the coffee. She had already added cream and sugar, just the way I liked it. I wondered if Mitch and Brody knew how I like my coffee. Brody might, I decided. But Mitch, with all his promise, was too wrapped up in his own stuff to notice anything about me. Fuck ‘em, anyway, I decided, downing the coffee with the same ease I had the water and the drinks before it.

  Damn. I needed to find a bathroom.

  I turned on the stool, nearly falling off it, and searched the room with my eyes. A large neon sign on the wall near the pool tables declared the bathrooms to be “that way” with an arrow pointing towards a spot behind the kitchen.

  Food sounded good. I had started a roast in the crockpot before I left and thrown together a salad, before penning a note for Merry that dinner was all but made and I had to get out for a while.

  My phone began to ring in my pocket as I stumbled my way towards the bathroom, scowling at it when the caller ID lit up with Mitch’s name. I didn’t want to talk to him. Or Brody or Merry or Slade or Blake, or even Nan, for that matter. Fumbling a bit, I shoved my way into the stall and jammed down on the button at the top of the screen to shut my phone off.

  Once I was finished in the bathroom, I found my way back up to the bar and ordered a cheeseburger with a side of onion rings, which I devoured the second it was placed in front of me, along with the second glass of water that Dorothea had served up with it.

  Full, happy, drunk, and slightly dizzy, I laid my head against the cool wood of the bar. I just needed to rest for a bit, I told myself, and then I can make my way home. Hopefully, by then, everybody would have fallen asleep.

  “Come on, honey,” Dorothea whispered gently as she shook me awake. “We’re going to close in thirty minutes. You need to start thinking about how you’re going to get home.” Startled, I lifted my head and glanced around, acclimating to my surroundings.

  “Oh shit,” I mumbled incoherently. “Is it one-thirty in the morning, already?”

  Dorothea just laughed and patted my hand. “No, honey, it’s just now ten o’clock. This ain’t no big city bar, and it’s Wednesday, not Friday. We’re closing down early. You should get home, too, and get some rest. Take some aspirin; you might need it in the morning.”

  Sleepily, I nodded.

  “You got a phone, honey? You need to make a call to Nan or one of those boys out at the ranch to come get you?”

  At the mention of Nan, the boys, and the ranch, I instantly sobered. I was not calling one of them to come get me. Despite all their silly nicknames, I was a big girl and fully capable of taking care of myself. I dug a twenty out of my wallet and threw it on the bar for Dorothea, then hopped down from the stool and started towards the door.

  “Honey,” Dorothea called. “You’re not planning on driving home, are you? Don’t do that now. It’s plenty safe to leave your car here; everybody does it. If you want to wait until I get off, I can give you a ride out to the ranch. It’s kind of on my way, and any friend of Nan’s is a friend of mine.”

  “No, I’m all right,” I called drunkenly over my shoulder, pushing the door open. “I’m just going to call an Uber!”

  “What’s an Uber?”

  Brody

  “God dammit, Mitch,” I muttered to myself, pacing the length of the porch. “I ought to tan your hide for making me worry.” The line was one I had stolen from Blake, and if I hadn’t been so damn sick with worry, I might have chuckled at the sound it made coming from my lips.

  I had taken for granted the fact that Mitch would be at the house when I finished working. News flash—he hadn’t been. He hadn’t shown up for dinner, and neither had April.

  “You
know, you pace this porch much longer and you’re likely to wear a hole in it.” Nan’s thready voice rang out as the screen door creaked open behind me.

  “I can’t help it. He should be here by now. Slade says his horse is missing, still.”

  “He’s fine,” Nan repeated firmly, stepping onto the porch and stopping my hurried pacing with a firm grip on my arm. “Mitch knows horses, and he knows the ranch and the surrounding areas. It’s a nice, clear night, and Mitch has a cell phone on him, as well. A luxury we didn’t have, back in the day. He’s just getting his head on straight. Why don’t you take a deep breath and do the same?”

  “My head is on just fine, thank you.” I snapped. “It’s his backwards ass that you need to worry about.”

  Nan sighed heavily, releasing my arm. I resumed my pacing, getting angrier and more worried by the minute.

  “I don’t think it is.” Nan spoke softly, into the darkness. “I know my Mitch, and he’s fine. Finer than he has been in a long time. I can feel it in my bones.”

  I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at Nan’s spiritual mumbo jumbo. Feel it in her bones? What did that even mean? I couldn’t feel anything in my bones, but my muscles ached with tension. Maybe eighty-year-old Texas women could “feel” things, so to speak, but I was a bona fide New Yorker, and I wouldn’t believe that my Mitch was safe until I saw it with my own two eyes.

  “Go on inside, Nan.” I paused, speaking down to the wisp of a woman who stood there watching me with sad eyes. “I’ll wait up for Mitch and April, you go on and get some rest. It’s starting to chill, and I wouldn’t want you to catch cold.” I may not understand Nan, but I certainly appreciated her.

  Nan just cocked her head at me and regarded me thoughtfully before turning and hobbling in the direction of her favorite rocker.

  “I think I’ll stay out here a bit, if it’s just the same to you,” she responded smartly, easing herself into her favorite seat. “If you’re really that worried about it, you can run on in and grab my pink shawl off the back of my recliner.”

  Dammit, I huffed to myself. I wondered if Mitch had gotten his stubbornness from Nan or if he had always been this hard-headed.

  Without much of a choice, I stomped into the house and quickly retrieved the shawl, spreading it over the waiting Nan.

  “Thank you, young man. Now, come on and sit down for a spell. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.” She motioned to the rocker opposite hers, and I sat down with a groan.

  Nan didn’t speak, continuing to stare at a spot on the horizon over my head.

  “What’s up?” I asked finally. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

  “What are your intentions with my Mitchell?” she asked sharply.

  I gave a sharp intake of breath and opened my mouth to answer before she cackled. “Calm down, young man! I wasn’t serious. If I was, I’d have said Mitchell and April, since you’re clearly in love with both of them.”

  I closed my mouth and shot her a suspicious look. Damn, this woman was perceptive. Was that something that came with age, or was she just nosy?

  “Fine, then.” I spoke carefully, refusing to acknowledge her earlier comments. “What’s your real question?”

  “Are you happy here?”

  Oh, good. An even harder question. Of course. I should have known. But this time, she was serious, and all her attention was on me as she waited for my reply.

  “It’s not that I’m unhappy here,” I answered honestly. “There are a lot of things about ranch life I actually enjoy, beginning with the people and how happy and fulfilled Mitch seems. More so than I’ve ever seen him, I think, despite everything that’s been happening.”

  “Mitch loves it here,” Nan agreed. “There’s no question about that, never has been. But young man, I asked about you.”

  “I’m not unhappy,” I repeated. “Maybe just unfulfilled. I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable on the back of a horse. Most of the time, when I’m working, I feel more like I’m getting in the way than actually helping, and I just don’t feel like I have much to contribute.”

  “But what if you did? Have something to contribute?” she prodded, leaning forward. “Do you think you could be happy here?”

  “As happy as I could be anywhere. But, honestly, what can I do?”

  “Well, young man, I think I know just the thing. And I hope you say yes, because I can’t think of anybody as fit for the job. I have a proposition for you.”

  I had listened to her spiel to humor her and to keep my mind off of worrying about Mitch and April, but when she finished, I found that I wanted the job more than I had wanted anything in my life. Well, besides Mitch and April, anyway.

  “Do you really think it could work?” I asked her incredulously. “Do you think it’s really a plausible plan?” It had sounded like one when she had laid it all out, but what if that was just my own wishful thinking and wanting so badly to find a place for myself here?

  “If you’ll help, I do. I think we will make a good team.”

  “What’s this now?” Mitch’s voice rang through the night, and I turned to see him standing at the bottom of the steps, grinning like a loon.

  “Where in the world have you been?” I exclaimed, rushing towards him.

  “I think I’ll just head into bed now and leave you boys to talk.” Nan chuckled, hobbling towards the door with her cane.

  “Good night, Nan. We’ll talk some more in the morning.” I left Mitch on the steps and ran up to hold the door open for her, kissing her weathered cheek as she walked past me.

  Mitch was standing behind me when I pushed the door closed. “What are you going to talk about in the morning?”

  “Never mind that. I’ll tell you later. Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!” I grabbed his face between my hands and looked him up and down, giving him a thorough once over. I had to make sure he was in one piece before I killed him.

  “You know, for a big bad Dom, you’re a little bit of a mother hen,” Mitch scoffed, passing me and taking a seat on the rocker I had just occupied. “Relax, Mom, I went for a ride.”

  “That was hours ago, and it’s nearly ten! I ought to beat your butt for the worry you’ve caused me.”

  “I’ve been counting on it,” Mitch deadpanned, leaning forward and brushing a kiss against my cheek. “I’m fine, Brody, I promise. And I have lots to say. But where’s April? She needs to hear it, too, and I only want to say it once.”

  “What do you mean, where’s April? I assumed she was with you.”

  “No, she’s not with me.” His face fell, and he cursed softly.

  Mitch

  “But you’ve both been gone nearly all day! The only reason I haven’t worried about her is because I assumed she was with you!” Brody’s face was a mask of confusion and sick worry.

  “Shit. Oh. Oh my God, Brody. I was so mean to her! I blamed her for everything! Oh crap!”

  “Okay, so you saw her, then. What time was that?”

  “Right after I kissed you, I saw her on my way up to the house. Oh, and she came into the kitchen while I was talking to Nan in the living room. I heard her in there for a while.”

  “That must have been when she put dinner in the crock pot. Okay, stay calm. Have you tried calling her?”

  “Yeah, once, about an hour or so ago, but she didn’t pick up.”

  Brody pulled his phone from his back pocket and began to dial, glowering at me from under thick lashes. “Damn it! Straight to voicemail.”

  “I’ll check the garage.” I started to run off the porch and around the side of the house, but before I got there, I saw headlights towards the end of Nan’s drive. Brody saw them, too. We froze in unison to watch and wait, but they never got closer. What the hell? Five minutes passed and then ten, and, finally, here comes April, swinging from side to side and muttering drunkenly under her breath.

  “Oh holy shit,” I heard Brody mutter in a tone that only meant one thing.

  As soo
n as she hit the porch, the interrogation began. “Are you drunk? Where have you been? Where’s your car? How did you get home?”

  April grimaced, frowning at us with furrowed brows. “My car’s at the bar. The lady said it’s fine. Did you know there’s no Uber out here?”

  Brody ignored her question and countered with two more of his own.

  “How much have you had to drink? And if you didn’t take an Uber, how the hell did you get home?”

  “Simple.” April was swaying where she stood and finally gave up, lopping down on the top step, right at Brody’s feet. She wrapped an arm around his leg and nuzzled her cheek into the fabric of his jeans for a moment before pointing up at him.

  “I was standing in the parking lot trying to call an Uber, and this wannabe cowboy in a jean jacket came out of the bar and offered me a ride. I thought I remembered Dorothea saying he was safe, but maybe she said he wasn’t. I’m not really sure. Anyway.” She paused before continuing. “Blue jean cowboy kept asking me where to go and I kept saying Second Chance Ranch, and he must not be from around here because he doesn’t know what that is. So then, he said ‘how about I just take you back to my place for the night?’ And I didn’t think that was a good idea, so I jumped out of his truck and started to walk home, and I was kind of scared, but it was okay because then my friend, Buddy, found me. And he knows the ranch, and he knows Nan and Slade and Blake and everybody but not you guys.”

  “Get to the point,” Brody growled, unamused. “How did you get home?

  “My friend, Buddy!” April exclaimed. “I just told you.”

  Brody looked like he was about to lose it on her any minute. I was happy it wasn’t me on the receiving end of what April had coming in the morning.

  I clapped him on the shoulder and began to rub, working on his hard, lean muscles in an attempt to help him simmer down. “I think she’s talking about the widower down the road,” I helped. “Nice guy. In his fifties, early sixties. He’s perfectly harmless and a good friend of Nan’s. He’s also a retired cop and all around good guy.”