Honky Tonk Christmas (18 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Brown

BOOK: Honky Tonk Christmas
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“It’s been a wonderful day. I’ve never seen Judd and Waylon so happy.”

“And you? Are you happy today, Holt?” she asked.

He stretched out beside her. “Today, I’m happy. You have a gold mine here, Sharlene. Don’t forget to visit it often and take a few nuggets home.”

She yawned. “I’m sorry. That looks like you are boring me and you aren’t. I can’t sleep in the house and can’t keep my eyes open in a hay barn. Something must be the matter with me.”

He slipped an arm under her and pulled her to his side. “It’s been a physically exhausting day having to get up that early. And it’s been an emotional upheaval what with telling your folks about the secrets. Take a nap. I won’t let you sleep but a little while.”

She pressed her whole body close to his and looped an arm around his neck, bringing his lips to hers for a kiss that created a delicious oozy warmth in the core of her body. “I couldn’t actually sleep right now. If it meant sleep or firing squad, I have to shut my eyes and get ready for a bullet.”

He chuckled and kissed her again. So much for stopping. His hand slid up her inner thigh, setting fires all the way to her underpants. His tongue danced with hers in a sensuous mating ritual that lit up the whole hayloft in sparkling fireworks.

She was entertaining thoughts of kicking her panties over in the corner and letting nature take its course when a rat the size of a baby possum ran across her bare legs, up her chest, and looked her in the eye before it disappeared in a flash into a pile of loose hay.

She jumped up and did a dance, wiping at her legs and arms, trying to get the feel of the nasty critter from her body. “Dammit all to hell and back. If it’s not kids it’s rats. I swear my mother sent that damn rat out here.”

Holt laughed. “Guess it’s an omen. We are not supposed to make out or make love in the hayloft on the Waverly property. Maybe someone is watching out after us.”

“I wish they’d stop,” she mumbled.

“Lie down beside me and take a nap. I’ll watch for rats,” he said.

“They’ll crucify you if they find us in here in our pajamas in the morning. So you’d better wake up in time to get us back in the house before daybreak.” She yawned and settled back down beside him.

“Trust me,” he said.

She wiped a hand across her neck one more time. Trust wasn’t something she did very well. And it was something he wouldn’t do when and if he read the classified file on Specialist Fourth Class Sharlene Waverly. Maybe there was a higher being watching out for them. It would be so much harder to watch him leave when the job was finished if they’d had sex.

She didn’t intend to go to sleep at all because she didn’t want to wake up all wild-eyed after one of her famous nightmares. But she did and she did not dream about bombed out shells where buildings used to stand, people who didn’t want the U.S. military in their country, and secret assignments.

Instead her dreams were filled with sunshine, fields of wild yellow daisies, and Judd and Waylon chasing butterflies. She could hear Holt’s deep Texas drawl behind her and feel his strong arms slipping around her waist as he called out to the children not to go too far. Then he kissed her on the neck and told her she was beautiful.

Chapter 9

Sharlene rolled over, stretched, and reached for Holt, but he wasn’t there. She was in her bed in the house. Her boots were sitting beside the door and she was wearing her nightshirt and underpants. That was a good thing because if he was beside her, Molly would make Claud load the shotgun and the Waverly brothers force Holt to marry her on the spot. She touched her forehead where he’d kissed her when he carried her into the house and laid her on the bed.

Molly poked her head inside the door. “You going to sleep all day? Holt and the kids have already had breakfast. Bart and Fiona are on their way and Judd and Waylon are waiting for their kids on the front porch.”

“What time is it?” Sharlene asked.

“Ten o’clock. Figured I’d let you sleep in since you had a hard day yesterday,” Molly said.

Sharlene jumped out of bed, grabbed her duffle bag, and headed toward the bathroom. “Bart and Fiona get things settled? I’ll be on the porch by the time they arrive. I’m starving. Did they leave anything on the back burner for me for breakfast?”

“Fiona said things were back to normal. There are some sausage and biscuits still on the back of the stove. All the gravy is gone and there’s no more pancakes. I could mix up another batch,” Molly offered.

“That’s all right. Don’t make anymore gravy. I’ll stuff sausage and grape jelly in a biscuit and call it breakfast. Be there in five minutes.”

Sharlene shut the door to the bathroom and checked her reflection in the mirror. She still looked the same as she had the day before. Unruly red curls, green eyes, a few freckles that she could erase with makeup. She tilted her head to one side and then the other. There was something else; a glow or a glitter in the eyes, something that hadn’t been in the mirror the day before. She hoped her mother hadn’t picked up on the difference.

Fiona and Bart were getting out of the truck when she stepped out on the porch in her denim miniskirt, boots, and a bright orange tank top. Fiona walked with her head held high and the old determination in her step. If a bouquet of roses or daisies or whatever Bart had been fool enough to send to the hot little teller woke them both up, then they were worth the price and the fight.

Tasha and four-year-old Betsy grabbed Judd’s hand and away they went toward the barn where the kittens would not be hiding. Their boys, Dylan and Tyler, asked Waylon if he’d like to toss a football around. Bart kissed Fiona on the forehead and headed to the backyard where Holt and Claud were firing up the grill and setting up more tables.

“So?” Sharlene followed Fiona into the kitchen.

“It’s finished and it won’t happen again, believe me.”

“If it does, you call me and I’ll bring an extra shovel. Even if he is my brother, I’ll help you bury his body so deep that the coyotes won’t even smell him,” Sharlene said.

“Who are we burying?” Molly asked from the stove where she was stirring a pot of pinto beans.

“Any fool husband who sends flowers to another woman,” Sharlene answered.

“Add a shovel to the list,” Molly said without hesitation.

“Thank you, but it really is over. We got it straightened out.” Fiona set a lemon layered cake on the table. “I’ve got a cobbler and potato casserole in the truck. Come help me bring them in, Sharlene. By the way, you look cute today. Something is different about you. Must’ve done you good to ’fess up to your evil deeds yesterday.”

“Does everyone good to come clean,” Molly said.

“Amen to that,” Fiona agreed.

Sharlene kept her mouth shut. She wanted to slip around to the backyard and see if Holt had a different expression than he’d had yesterday. But common sense told her to steer clear of him for fear that everyone in the family would see the invisible sparks and aura that surrounded them. She followed Fiona to the truck and picked up the long glass pan containing hash brown casserole.

“Y’all need some help?” Bart and Holt jogged from around the house.

Bart took the cobbler from Fiona and said, “I’ll carry that. You got anything more in there?”

Sharlene handed the casserole off to Holt. “This.”

Their hands brushed in the transfer and she felt a tingle down to her toes. She hadn’t set out to be more than friends with Holt Jackson but those kisses the day and night before had nixed that idea. Her mind argued with her heart and everything went in circles as she tried to hang onto a single decision about Holt. It might have helped if the sparks between them didn’t keep heating up her body hotter than the hot tin roof of a barn that was in blazes.

“Did you sleep well?” Holt whispered.

“Wonderful well,” she smiled.

“I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was worth it. Rat and all.”

She giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Fiona asked.

Jenny and Miles drove up before Sharlene could answer and two kids were out of the truck and running toward the backyard before Sharlene could turn around.

“Hey, you two without something in your hands, come and help me,” Jenny called out to Sharlene and Fiona.

Miles had a sack of ice in each hand. “I’m taking these in before they melt,” he said.

Jenny pointed to several covered dishes in two cardboard boxes located in the bed of the truck. She and Fiona each grabbed the edge of one box and Sharlene picked up the last dish from the remaining box.

“What’s in this?” she asked.

“It’s corn salad. We’ll put the corn chips on top just before we serve it. Got the recipe at Dolly Benton’s funeral last week. No cooking to it. Just mix up cheese and corn and the rest of the ingredients, then you add chili flavored corn chips to it right at the end so they’ll stay crispy,” she answered.

“Sounds like it would go wonderful with cold beer,” Sharlene said.

“It does, but don’t tell Momma I said that,” Fiona whispered.

“My lips are sealed,” Sharlene said. “How’d things go last night with you? Did Matthew about come unglued at the hinges?”

Fiona laughed.

“No, he grinned and strutted around like a stud horse. I expected him to beat on his chest like Tarzan before the night was over. You’d think it was some kind of powerful thing that proves he’s still a man or something,” Jenny said. “He wouldn’t feel so cocky if he had to throw up everything but his toenails every morning. And just once I’d like to see a man go through labor. Not all of it and not delivery. God, they’d all die. But just the last five minutes they could take on the pains and do the pushing for us. That sounds fair, doesn’t it? I’m sorry. Here I am bitching and I didn’t even ask about you and Bart.”

“We worked it out. I talked and he listened and swore nothing had happened and would never happen. He apologized and promised. I believed him but if I catch wind of it again, it’s going to be a different story,” Fiona said.

Sharlene raised an eyebrow.

Fiona jutted her chin out and said, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, I’ll go to Mingus and become a bartender.”

Holt held the door for the other five and heard the last comment Fiona made. Evidently Bart and Fiona straightened out their problem but Bart was skating on thin ice until he proved himself. And the Waverly women didn’t mess around giving second chances. He followed them to the kitchen where the women were bustling around arranging food on the buffet table. Miles pulled two ice chests from the back porch, filled them with two bags of ice, and then went to the coffee pot. He poured two cups and put sugar and cream in one and carried it to Jenny before he and the other men headed to the backyard.

“Amazing how attentive pregnancy makes them, isn’t it?” Jenny sipped the coffee.

“A hissy will do the same thing,” Fiona said.

Molly smiled.

“What’s so funny, Momma?” Sharlene asked.

“Our ladies of the round table talks. They always make everything all better, don’t they?”

“Yes, ma’am,” three voices said in unison.

“What are we yes ma’aming?” Lisa asked from the living room.

“The fact that everything is all better today. Miles just made coffee for Jenny and Bart helped carry in the food,” Sharlene said.

“Well, hot damn! Maybe my problem will solve itself today too.”

“Does Mr. Moody Grandson know who is invited to spend the day here?”

“No, I thought I’d surprise him,” Lisa said.

Someone knocked on the door and Sharlene spun around to look at the rest of the family. No one ever knocked. They just yelled and came through the living room, dining room, and back to the kitchen.

“I’ll get it. It has to be the Alvarez family,” Lisa said.

Sharlene followed her to see what a thirteen-year-old little Mexican girl had that had set Creed’s hormones into overdrive.

Same thing that set yours on a roller coaster, girl,
she told herself.
It’s pure old sex appeal. Don’t matter if a person is thirteen or thirty or sixty-three. If the other party lights up the hormone drive, they are the best thing since ice cream on a stick.

Lisa kept up a running chatter as she led the way to the kitchen. “Come right in. Take the food stuff to the kitchen and then you kids can all go outside. Maybe you can talk Creed into saddling a couple of horses for y’all to ride today, Christina. And the rest of you children will find someone your age out in the yard, I’m sure. Jeff is firing up a grill with the rest of the men. Just follow us through the kitchen and you can go out the back door.”

Enrique made a hasty retreat away from the women when Lisa pointed to the back door. Kitchen and women were not his idea of a holiday. Men grilling meats and drinking ice tea was a much better choice. Three children, all younger than Christina, hurried out to where the other children played. Sharlene watched Creed’s face from the window. When he saw Enrique and the Alvarez children, his gaze locked on the house.

Christina hung back to help her mother and the ladies until Lisa finally said, “Girl, get on out there with the rest of the young folks. We’ve got lots of help.”

She looked at her mother, Martina.

“Go on. Shoo. You’ll grow up too quick as it is and have to cook and run after children. Go and have a good time,” Martina said.

Both mother and daughter were short, had long dark hair and big brown eyes. Their faces were round and their skin slightly toasted like coffee with only a dollop of pure cream. Martina had crow’s-feet beginning around her eyes and a thicker middle. Christina’s red tank top was tucked into jean shorts that nipped in at her tiny waist.

“Are you sure?” Christina asked.

“Yes, I am sure that I can uncover these tamales all by myself,” Martina said.

Sharlene stayed glued to the window. Creed’s whole face lit up when he saw Christina. He waved and motioned her over to the fence he leaned against. She joined him but kept a foot of space between them. Sharlene remembered back when she was about seven years old and Lisa first came to the farm with her parents for Sunday dinner. She and Jeff had to have been about that same age and they’d both had the same timid yet joyful expression on their faces. Was history about to repeat itself?

Lisa pretended to wash her hands. “What happened?”

Sharlene took a step to the side. “See for yourself.”

“He reminds me so much of Jeff at that age,” Lisa said.

“Well, she damn sure don’t remind me of you. You were all legs and had long blond braids that you hated and braces. You looked like a young colt,” Sharlene said. Her gaze went from Creed and Christina to Holt. He fit in so well with her brothers and their families that it was scary.

“I did not look like a horse. Good lord, you’re the writer. Can’t you think of something nicer than that?” Lisa asked.

“Hey, hey, we’re here,” Matthew called from the door.

Then people began to arrive en masse. In-laws, the neighbor Wayne who Molly made a great show of introducing to Sharlene before she sent him to the backyard, Dorie and her two kids, grandparents, and the ladies from the Circle. Everyone brought so much food that Clara had to drag out a folding table and set it up to hold all the dishes.

Sharlene knew them all except the Alvarez family and Wayne, but she wondered how Holt fared trying to put a name with everyone’s face. It wouldn’t be unlike the first day she arrived in Iraq and everyone introduced themselves. It took her weeks to get names and faces together and to stop calling everyone, “Hey you.”

At exactly noon, Molly nodded at Claud when he poked his head in the back door, and he rang the dinner bell hanging on the back porch.

“Everyone gather round and we’ll have grace before we turn the stampede loose on the food,” he said. “Who’s the youngest child we have here today?”

Everyone looked around. “I guess it’s Betsy,” Fiona said.

Claud motioned for her to join him below the dinner bell. “Then Betsy will give thanks for us.”

She marched up to his side and bowed her head.

“Speak up so everyone can hear,” Claud whispered.

“Now I lay me down to sleep,” she said loudly. “And God bless Momma and Daddy and Gramps and Granny and the kittens in the barn. And oh, yeah, bless this dinner too. Amen.”

“Amen,” Claud said. “That was a good grace. Now you kids get in line first so your mothers can help you. And then the adults can fix their plates.”

Holt took charge of Waylon right behind Matthew who had a hand on Matty’s shoulder. Sharlene hugged Judd up to her side and got in line behind Jenny who would be helping Kayla.

When the children were all seated, the men navigated toward the buffet tables. Sharlene’s maternal grandfather threw an arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. “What’s this I hear about you owning a beer joint? In my younger days I mighta slipped off down there and danced around the floor with you, but Grandma would skin me alive if I did that these days.”

Sharlene gasped. “You went to beer joints?”

“Back before I met your Grandma, I did a few times. I like the music and there’s enough German in me to like a brew every so often. But Grandma was a preacher’s daughter and I give it all up when I fell in love with her. Guess you took after me after all.”

“News travels fast. I only told Momma last night,” Sharlene said.

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