High Lonesome (7 page)

Delicious smells wafted down the hallway and under the door of the bedroom. Her appetite had returned with a full vengeance, and she couldn’t wait to dig into some more of Carmen’s food. She jumped in the shower and dressed quickly, humming to drown out the growls her stomach was making.

Walking down the hall, she passed Scott’s office door, which was closed, and prayed she wouldn’t run into him first thing. The dream was fresh, and she knew she’d not be able to look him in the eye without turning pink as a salmon. Fortunately, he was not in the kitchen either when she entered.

“
Buenos dias
!” Carmen greeted her with a huge smile while stabbing slabs of bacon with a fork. Pancakes and eggs were bubbling on a griddle and bread was toasting. Coffee was brewing, a pitcher of orange juice sat on the counter next to a bowl of bananas, and potatoes were sizzling in a cast iron pan. The cook resembled an octopus with her hands reaching out in several directions.

A small person sitting on a stool at the island peered up from a magazine and grinned. She was missing a front tooth.

“Howdy. You’re the lady who don’t remember nothin’, ain’t ya?”

Carmen reprimanded the girl in a low growl reminiscent of a mother bear. “Willow, that’s a rude thing to say to someone you just met. And don’t say ain’t.”

“Sorry, Carmen.”

“And one more thing. Quit speaking improper English. Your daddy sends you to school for a reason.”

“Sorry
again
, Carmen.” The girl rolled her eyes, while not bothering to hide her mischievous grin.

Seeing the little blonde girl triggered a strange sensation. She clutched the edge of the island as the vision of another small child formed in her mind. She was a young child with dark hair who was laughing and yelling the words,
Higher! Higher!

The flash vanished within a second, but the image shook her to the core. A strong sense of familiarity rushed through her veins.

“You
are
the lady, right?” The girl tapped the countertop with her finger to get her attention.

Realizing she’d blanked out for a moment, she regained her composure and climbed onto a bar stool to study the girl. Her hair was the color of a stalk of wheat, and she wore a pink cowgirl hat with rhinestones dotting the band. “Yes. I’m the lady. You must be Willow. Your dad told me about you.”

“Carmen told me about
you
.” Willow glanced at the cook with her eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Carmen apologized. “But I thought I should give Willow a heads up about you and the...”

“That’s okay, Carmen.”

“Is it true you don’t know your own name?” Willow asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Can I see the bump on your head?” Willow tucked her feet under her bottom and leaned forward, propping herself on her elbows.

“Okay. But are you sure it won’t make you queasy? It’s starting to turn a weird shade of green.”

“Oh, no. I’m tough as nails. I saw a baby colt born before. There was a lot of blood and guts all over. A little knot on your head ain’t gonna bother me none.”

“Willow!” Carmen slapped a spatula down on the counter. “The way you talk, child. I warned you. Speak correctly,
por favor
.”

“
Sorry
, Carmen.” Willow emphasized the
sorry
and winked. The little girl then pulled a small magnifying glass out of her back jeans pocket and proceeded to inspect the bump as if she were a detective.

“Where did you get a magnifying glass?”

“Out of a spy catalog,” Willow replied. “Mmmm. That’s a right nasty looking bump, all right. May I see your arm,
por favor
? You’ll notice I speak Spanish, too.”

Carmen’s expansive bosom vibrated as she chuckled, unable to hide her amusement.

Stretching out her arm, she showed the girl the large purple and blue bruise.

“Did somebody try to twist it off?” Willow asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything about my accident.”

There was a bag labeled
Beth’s Banana Bread
sitting in front of the girl. She pulled out a thick slice and took a bite. “That’s a shame for you, but lucky for me. I’ve never met anybody who had amnesia before.”

“Scott’s daughter is seven going on seventeen, ma’am,” the cook replied, shaking her head.

Willow offered her new friend a slice of bread. “Would you like some? Carmen orders it special because it’s my favorite. It has loads of pecans in it. It’s delish!”

“Thanks. To tell you the truth, I’m so hungry I could eat an elephant.”

“Me, too. Have you ever eaten an elephant before, lady?”

She giggled. “No. Can’t say that I have. I don’t believe anyone in the world eats elephant. At least I hope not. I think it’s just a funny expression.”

“Maybe the people in India do.”

“If I’m remembering my world history correctly, Indian people revere elephants. I don’t think they want to have them for dinner.”

“What does revere mean?”

“It means to honor.”

“I see.” Willow took another big bite of bread. “I revere my horse.”

“Excuse me.” Carmen interrupted the conversation. “Ma’am, would you like to have your breakfast here in the kitchen this morning, or in the dining room with the other guests?”

“Oh, this is fine. If I’m not in your way,” she added. “I’m not sure I’m up to explaining my situation to strangers over casual chit-chat.”

“I understand.” Carmen retrieved a butter dish and two jars of jam from the fridge. “I’ll get you a plate.”

“Take your time. I can wait until the other guests are served.”

“I’ve been contemplating something,” Willow said in complete seriousness.

“Is that so? Contemplating is a very big word for a seven year old.” She grinned.

“I’m good at vocabulary, and I’m a voracious reader.”

“Voracious? That’s another word I didn’t expect out of the mouth of a babe. I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you,” Willow replied. “My mama was very smart. Daddy says I get it from her.”

“I’m sure your mama is very proud of you.”

Willow’s head tilted. “She’s in heaven. She can’t be proud of me.”

“Well, sure she can. Even if she’s not right here with you, she’s always in your heart, and she’s still watching over you.”

The little girl nodded. “That’s true. My daddy tells me the same thing.”

“Your daddy’s very smart, too. Now, go ahead and tell me what it is you’ve been contemplating.”

Willow peeled a banana and stuffed a bite of it in her mouth. When she finished chewing she said, “If you’re going to be staying with us, I think it’s important you have a name. We can’t call you lady all the time. And Carmen would get after my butt if I yelled
hey
at you. Do you have any ideas?”

Carmen wagged a piece of bacon at the girl. “Willow, don’t talk about butts at the table.”

She shrugged. “To be honest, I hadn’t thought about what my name could be. I have a sneaking suspicion you have though. What’s your suggestion?”

“I want to call you Beth.”

She stared at the banana bread bag. “You want to name me after your favorite quick bread?”

“Yep. I think it’s a real pretty name. I wish Beth was
my
name. What do you think about it?

She considered it. “I think it’s very pretty, too.”

“Do you think Beth could be your real name?” Willow asked with excitement. “Wouldn’t that be something if it was?”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but it doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Oh.” The child frowned, and then the frown turned upside down again. “Well, what would you think about being called Beth anyway? It would be just until you find out what your real name is.”

Carmen placed a fiesta-ware plate in front of her guest. “Willow, maybe the nice lady doesn’t want to be named after a hunk of dough.”

“Would you mind being named after a hunk of dough?” Willow asked with glitter in her eyes. “It’s the best bread in the world.” She rubbed her tummy and licked her lips.

“You’re very thoughtful to want to give me a name,” she answered with a chuckle. “It’s pretty and it’s simple. I should be able to remember it. I don’t mind if you call me Beth, if you’d like.”

“Yippee!” Willow shouted. She clapped her hands and jumped off the bar stool and did a happy dance around the island.

“Beth” grinned when she noticed the girl was wearing pink boots to match her hat. She also had on a rhinestone belt, looking quite the little cowgirl.

“Is there a party going on in here?” Scott asked as he sauntered through the back door. He jerked off his cowboy hat and hung it on a hook just inside the door. He ran his hands through his blond hair and grinned.

Remembering the dream, Beth’s heart gripped at the sight of him. He looked the essence of western masculinity in his tight Wranglers, dusty boots, and blue denim shirt. He also wore a bandana around his neck.

“It smells delicious in here. I’m as hungry as a bear,” he growled.

“Daddy!” Willow skipped across the tile floor and threw herself into his arms. He heaved her over his shoulder, they hugged, and she planted a big kiss on his stubbly cheek.

“Did you just get home, baby?”

“A little while ago. Wait till you see what Midnight can do.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Let me say hi to our guest.” Scott plopped Willow on the island counter, and his friendly gaze raked over Beth. “Don’t you look as pretty as a picture,” he said. “Good mornin’.”

“Good morning. And thank you for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome. Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log, as they say.” That was, until the dream caused her to toss and turn with restless pleasure.

“Daddy, guess what?” Willow interrupted, bouncing up and down.

“What?”

“The lady has a name.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “You remember your name?” he asked.

“No, Daddy,” Willow giggled. “I thought up a new name for her. She’s going to be Beth from now on.”

“Oh. Beth, huh? How did you come up with that?” Willow pointed to the label on the bread bag and Scott laughed. “It works as well as anything, I guess. Beth. I like it. It’s pretty.”

“Just like her, right Daddy?”

Beth felt a flutter in her chest when his gaze latched onto her. Being in his company had every nerve tingling with awareness.

“Yes, honey. Good job.” His eyes lingered on the newly christened Beth for what seemed an eternity.

“Do you want to eat now, Mr. Scott?” Carmen asked, reaching for another breakfast plate.

He washed his hands in the kitchen sink and dried them on a dishtowel. “Sure. I’ll join these two lovely ladies, if they don’t mind. He straddled an island stool.

“When do your guests eat?” Beth asked.

“They’ll be coming in any minute. They all eat together in the dining room. I normally take breakfast with them, but I asked the wranglers to act as hosts this morning.”

As they chatted, Carmen hurried back and forth from the kitchen. She delivered bowl after bowl of food to the long wooden table in the dining room, in preparation for the arrival of the guests.

Beth jumped up. “I should be helping you with those.”

Carmen shooed her away. “No thank you. This is my job. Eat before yours gets cold.” Right on cue, she set the last bowl down as the guests came through the front door and took their places at the dining room table.

Beth heard them chattering like jays. She didn’t have to be told twice before delving into her plate of eggs.

Scott doused his potatoes with salt and ketchup. “Willow, tell the lady what you were doing at your friend’s house yesterday.” He poured a cup of coffee then swiped some bacon off the heating plate on the counter behind him.

“She’s not the lady, Daddy. She’s
Beth
.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot already. Tell Beth.”

“I was practicing for the Little Wranglers Rodeo.”

“You’re going to be in a rodeo?”

“Yep. I’ve been in plenty of rodeos already. I compete in pole bending on my horse, Midnight.”

“What’s pole bending?” Beth asked.

Willow looked to her father to explain. He finished swallowing a link of sausage before he spoke.

“The object of pole bending is to ride through a pattern of upright poles in the shortest time without toppling any of them. There are six plastic poles set in rubber bases. The first one is about twenty-one feet from the start/finish line, with the others placed progressively farther from the line at twenty-one foot intervals. Willow gallops at full speed down one side. Then, at the end, she turns one hundred eighty degrees and weaves through the serpentine path. When she reaches the last pole, she turns and goes back through the pattern again until she reaches the far end. When the pattern is completed, she dashes to the finish line.”

Beth blinked. “My gosh. You really do all of that on a horse? Without falling off?”

Willow giggled. “Yep. Would you like to see Midnight? Come on, I’ll show you.” She reached for Beth’s hand and tugged.

When their hands touched, Beth felt a spark, and the image of a little dark-haired child flashed in front of her again. This time, the girl was lying in a canopy bed and appeared to be listening to a bedtime story.

I feel a connection to that little girl. But who is she? What does she mean to me?

“Later,” Scott told Willow. His fork stopped in midair. “Beth, what is it? Are you getting a headache?”

She nodded confirmation, realizing he understood what was happening to her. When he scooted away from the island ready to help, she lifted her hand. “It was just a sharp pain, but it’s gone now. I’m okay.” The image disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. She took a drink of juice and couldn’t help but wonder if the flashbacks were random pictures or pieces of a puzzle associated with her life. Whatever they meant, they were disconcerting.

Willow’s round eyes stared. “Are you sick, Beth?”

She patted her hand. “No, honey. I’m fine now.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat. “Where were we? Oh yes, you were talking about your horse. I’d love to meet Midnight when we’ve finished breakfast.”

“Goodie!” The child clapped her hands.