Read Cowboy Sing Me Home Online
Authors: Kim Hunt Harris
Instead
of making a remark about her coolness, he simply smiled and handed her a plate
when they got to the serving line. He exchanged greetings with everyone else
in line, introducing Dusty to so many people she gave up any attempt to
remember all the names. When they reached the front of the line he instructed
Stevie to give them both extra portions. Stevie, who stared slack-jawed at
Dusty every time he saw her, loaded her up with enough ribs to feed their
entire table.
As
they sat back down at their table, Luke handed Dusty a paper napkin and plopped
a big spoonful of potato salad onto her plate. “I shudder to think what’s
going to happen to Stevie if you ever smile at him.”
“Since
he goes catatonic every time I look at him, I don’t think I’ll push the issue.”
“That’d
probably be for the best. Hey Podner,” Luke said as Corinne plopped a
wiener-wielding Cade down beside them. “Got some barbecue?”
“I
decided his tummy wasn’t up for Stevie’s sauce. Luke, I think the poetry club
is ready for you to introduce them.”
“Ah,
time for my big moment.” Luke stood and wiped his mouth. “I’ll be right
back.”
Cade
gave a cry of protest and threw himself at Luke. Luke managed to catch him
before he fell. “Where you going?”
“You
said you were leaving, so he has to give you bye-bye sugar,” Corinne explained.
Cade
leaned over and put his open mouth up to Luke’s, making an “mmmmmah” sound as
he did so.
“Sorry,
I forgot. ” Luke said. “That’s good bye-bye sugar.” He kissed the boy again,
then blew loudly on his neck. Cade laughed hysterically as Luke handed him
back to Corinne.
Luke
worked his way back through the crowd, then bounded onto the stage and tapped
the microphone. It screeched feedback and the crowd groaned in protest.
Luke
ducked and whirled, his hands flying to an imaginary holster to pull out
invisible pistols, and his head whipped left and right in a pantomime search
for perpetrators.
The
crowd laughed, and at the table Toby Haskell said, “What a ham.”
“Look
who’s talking,” his wife replied. “How is it he’s making this speech instead
of you, anyway?”
“I
lost the arm wrestle.”
Dusty
couldn’t help but smile with the rest of them. He was comfortable in front of
a crowd; she’d noticed that even in front of the small groups who came to their
rehearsals at Tumbleweeds. But from what she had seen, he seemed like a basically
comfortable guy no matter where he was. As she watched him turn and joke with
a man on the gazebo stage, she decided that self-confidence was pretty darn
sexy.
Now
that he had the crowd’s attention, he turned back to the mike and said, “It’s
great to see such a good turnout on the eve of the first ever Aloma County Rain
Fest. When I told Sheriff Haskell about my idea of having this Rain Fest, I
said I knew we could count on the good people of Aloma County to get behind it
a hundred percent.”
The
man behind him said something, and Luke turned. He nodded and turned back to
the microphone. “Yeah, I know the Sheriff has been telling everyone Rain Fest
was his idea. That’s okay. I don’t mind letting him get the credit for my
ideas, it happens all the time. That’s why he’s the Sheriff and I’m just a
deputy. I let him take the credit for all my hard work and ingenuity. It’s
only fair, when you think about how much better looking I am than he is. Makes
things more even.”
Dusty
cast a glance toward Toby, who was grinning from ear to ear. The crowd laughed
again. He had them eating out of his hand, Dusty thought. She leaned her
elbows on the table and watched. She enjoyed watching an entertainer, enjoyed
studying the nuances of a person when they were in that moment of connection
with a crowd. Even in this simple instance, he worked the crowd like a
professional.
“I
want to give you a few statistics. In 1950, the southwest experienced the
worst drought it had seen in twenty years. Crops died, farms went bankrupt,
families were seperated and torn apart. By 1954, the entire area was blessed
by good rainfall and nice warm summers. Aloma County got 13 inches in March
and April alone. Cotton prices went up to 54 cents a pound, about the equivalent
of a dollar today. The John Deere house sold more new tractors over the next
two years than they ever had. New housing construction went up, not to mention
new barn construction. Then in 1962, another drought hit. Production went
down. Times got hard. People tightened their belts and worried and lost sleep
and worked harder. But they made it through. The rain came back, production
went back up, and by the mid-70s things were so good, Helen and Charles Tanner
decided they could afford to hear the pitter patter of tiny feet running around
their house.” He nodded to a woman out in the audience, who beamed at him.
“By the time I was in second grade, the talk all over the county was how low
cotton prices were. In fourth grade, everyone was flush and putting in new
irrigation systems. By fifth grade, prices were the worst they’d ever been,
and farmers were striking, refusing to plant. By eighth grade, we had so much
cotton, the gin had to hire more workers than it ever had.
“This is the kind of people we come from, folks. Our ancestors didn’t
settle this land and raise their families by giving up when things got tough.
They fought, not with each other, but together, side by side. They worked, and
they persevered. And we’re going to do that, too.”
Murmuring approval rose from the crowd. Dusty looked around to see a
head dipped as if in shame here, a chin rubbed in contemplation there.
“Take a look around you. Go on, look.” There were a few nervous laughs,
the rustle of movement among the crowd. “These are your neighbors. These are
your friends. In a lot of cases, these are your family members. We’re going
to outlast this drought. And we’re going to do it together. And when it’s all
over, and we’re all feeling flush again…” He grinned, and the crowd laughed
lightly. “When times are good again, and the crops come in, and cotton prices
are high, we’ll all still be here, with our friends, our neighbors, and our
family.”
Dusty was surprised to feel her throat grow tight. It really
was
like something out of a Rockwell painting. Or like something out of one of her
daydreams.
“That’s what Rain Fest is all about. It’s about us pulling together in
the way we know we can, and proving to ourselves and everyone else that we’re
stronger than any drought or heat wave. Hopefully by this time tomorrow people
are going to be coming from all over the state to take part in the festival.
There will be news cameras and reporters, families visiting from the city, and
more people than this town has seen in a long time. What are we going to show
them? A bunch of rednecks at each other’s throats? Of course not. Because
that’s not who we are in Aloma. We’re neighbors, and friends, and family.”
Stronger murmuring of assent this time, and a hearty, “Damn right!” from
the back of the crowd.
The crowd laughed again, and Dusty could feel the energy in the air, feel
the spirit of community and camaraderie that Luke was talking about. She could
feel it, and for the second time in the span of half an hour, she felt envious.
“Damn right,” Luke echoed. “We might get on each other’s nerves once in
a while, but when times get tough, we pull together. And we need to pull
together now. To make this event a success, and to remind ourselves what a
jewel of a town we have. I have to say, even I’m amazed at how hard everyone’s
working. The choir is sounding awesome and Brother Mark is getting ready for
the Jubilee. The booths are going up for the street carnival, and we’ve got
entertainment for the whole family. For you grownups, we have an outstanding
singer joining us out at Tumbleweeds, the extremely talented Dusty Rhodes.
She’s even making our pitiful old house band sound good, and I know you’re all
going to want to come out and hear her.”
His eye caught hers, and she had to remind herself that she was immune to
his charm when he gave her a soft smile. He turned back to the crowd, and
Dusty breathed again.
“All these things are happening because we’re working together. Dub at
the grocery store wanted me to announce that, in the cooperative spirit of Rain
Fest, and in light of the fact that most of us are eating Stevie’s barbecue
sauce, he’s running a two-for-one special on antacid tonight.”
Dusty shook her head as the crowd once again laughed. She almost wished
she could take Luke Tanner on the road with her. He’d be a great asset in
engaging the crowd.
“And to kick things off tonight, in addition to this great food we have
some fabulous entertainment for you. So without further yammering from me, it
is my pleasure to announce the Aloma Junior High Poetry Club!”
The crowd applauded as three pre-teen girls and one boy walked up the
steps to the gazebo, then stood shoving each other to see who would have to go
first.
Luke
returned to the table amidst applause and more than a few pats on the back.
“Very
smooth,” Dusty said when he sat down beside her.
He
shrugged. “I do my best. Were you impressed enough to give me that smile
you’re not going to give Stevie?”
“We’ll
see. If -- ”
“Are
you trying to take my job away from me?” Toby interrupted. “
I’m
the
dashing and charming public figure around here. Don’t even think of running
for Sheriff in the next election.”
“Don’t
worry,” Luke said. “I’m comfortable with second in command.” He turned back
to Dusty. “How’s your potato salad?”
“Great,”
she said, because she didn’t want to admit she hadn’t tasted it. “Deli -- ”
“That
was quite a speech, son.”
Dusty
watched as a beefy hand landed on Luke’s shoulder. “Just what we needed to
hear.”
“Thank
you, Mr. Buchanan.” He took Dusty’s hand, and because they were in public she
let him. “I’d like you to meet Dusty Rhodes. I hope you can come out to
Tumbleweeds and catch our show.”
Dusty
nodded at the older man who stood over Luke, but the man didn’t notice. He
promised to come see the band Friday night and moved on.
Another
man replaced him. Then another, then a woman, then a girl who was pretty
enough to have Dusty surreptitiously checking herself for barbecue sauce
spills.
Luke
tried to include Dusty in the conversations, but it became apparent before long
that everyone knew everyone, except her.
It
bothered her. It shouldn’t have. But it did.
She
tried to pay attention to the white-haired boy on the stage reading “Casey at
the Bat”, but with all the commotion it wasn’t easy. While Luke was locked in
conversation, she excused herself and walked to her pickup. She didn’t have
time to sit around and try to get a word in edgewise, she thought irritably.
“Was
it something I said?”
Dusty
looked over her shoulder to see Luke following her across the parking lot.
“I
don’t know what you’re talking about.” She dug her keys out of her pocket and
kept walking.
“You
left without saying goodbye. I’m sorry about all the commotion. Are you mad?”
“Of
course I’m not mad. I’m leaving so I can get ready for rehearsal, that’s all.”
She opened the door to her pickup and climbed in, but Luke stood in the way so
she couldn’t close it.
She
raised her eyebrows at him. “Did you need something?”
He
just grinned and shook his head, moving closer to her until she could see the
ice blue of his eyes, the lines that bracketed his mouth.
“I’m glad you came.” His voice was soft, his eyes directly on hers as if
he didn’t notice the people all around them. “Both tonight, and for the Rain
Fest.”
“Mmm,”
she said, because her mouth went dry and her heart sped up when he looked at
her like that. And that was annoying. It meant he had the upper hand, and she
didn’t like that at all.
“Did
you have a good time?”
“Sure.
Listen, I’ve got to go, get set up.”
“Okay,
but first…” He flashed that devilish grin at her, and she reminded herself
again that she was too smart to fall for charm.
“What?”
“Can
I have some bye-bye sugar?”
Caught
off guard, Dusty laughed.
Luke
put his hand over his heart and pretended to swoon. “She laughed! She not
only smiled, she actually laughed. Out loud.”
“Okay, Ace, don’t blow it now. You get one point for making me laugh.
Now get your butt to rehearsal before I give Stevie your spot.”
By
the time Luke and the rest of the band arrived for rehearsal, Dusty had a
guitar in her hand, the song list on her mind, and her composure back. She may
be kicking around the idea of a fling, but rehearsal was rehearsal, and there
was no room in it for the distraction of fantasizing.
She
put the band through their paces, but she’d been right to come down hard from
the beginning. They were on their toes, and likely to stay there as long as
she didn’t let the reins out too much.
“Okay,”
she said after they’d run through the first four or five songs. “The covers
are coming along okay, let’s work on some of my original songs. I trust you
already learned the originals I sent ahead?” It turned out that the publicity
packets she’d sent ahead were lost somewhere in the mess that was Rodney’s
office, but they did have the list of cover songs she’d sent, so hopefully
everything they needed to do the originals had found the right place, no thanks
to Rodney and his management skills.