One Texas Cowboy Too Many (Burnt Boot, Texas) (25 page)

Leah appreciated the cool air in Rhett’s truck when he picked her up in front of the school that afternoon. “It still smells like a new truck,” she said.

“Dammit’s been doing his best to give it some dog aroma by riding inside when I let him. You ready to do this?”

“I am ready. Courthouse first?”

“Yes, I called and the judge is there,” he said.

“I’ve been thinking about that Rhett. I want to be married in the church, not in a courthouse. I called our preacher, and he said he could do the ceremony right after school on Thursday, but we’d have to bring two witnesses.”

“I think we can find a couple of those, don’t you?”

“I believe so. Gladys and Polly?”

“And Verdie.”

“We only need two, but Verdie would have her feelings hurt, wouldn’t she? So how do we get them to the church?”

“Tell them we want to talk to them about the school board meeting.”

Rhett drove with one hand and held her hand with the other one. “I had a plan and it’s working out.”

“And that is?”

“I didn’t want to get married until I owned a ranch of my own, and tomorrow, it becomes officially mine.”

“I didn’t want to get married until I found my soul mate,” she said.

“Well, that was the center of my plan the whole time, and I did. Want to go to the church on the cycle on Thursday?”

“I’d love to.” She smiled.

* * *

On Tuesday night, Leah came into the house looking like the last rose of summer that a puppy had hoisted his leg on. She tossed her tote bag on one of the chairs in the living room and melted into a kitchen chair. “I graded all the papers before I left school so I would calm down and not absolutely come in here bitchin’,” she said.

Rhett left the kitchen where he’d been cooking supper and massaged her shoulders. “You muscles are so knotted up. Come into the bedroom, stretch out on the bed, and let me work on those shoulders.”

“Yes, sir. I will gladly obey. This has been the day from hell. Millie cried and Carrie cried, and that made all the other little girls weepy eyed most of the day. The Brennan girls can’t go to the Gallagher party, and they were so dramatic about it that we should put them on a reality show.”

“Clothing off except for underwear and then lie on your stomach,” he said.

She stripped out of a flowing gauze skirt in vibrant colors and a lime green knit shirt so fast that it was a blur. When she was lying facedown, he kicked off his boots and started to work on her toes first.

“Is that all that got you twisted up?” he asked.

“Oh, no. That’s barely the tip of the iceberg. Damian Gallagher doubled up his fist and threatened Lester Brennan, and believe me, that started a war as big as the shit war and the pig war combined. Brennan boys and Gallagher boys took sides and started one of those ultimate fight things right there in my classroom. I’d pull one off and tell him to go stand beside the bookcase, and before I could manhandle another one, the first one would already be back in the battle.”

Rhett chuckled as he moved up to her calves. “I’d like to have seen that one. My advice would have been to let them fight until they got tired and then punish the whole lot of them.”

“Oh, I punished them. Every one of them that were in the fight has to write one hundred sentences before class tomorrow. I imagine the Gallaghers and the Brennans both will bring that to the school board to add to my sin charges.”

Rhett brushed her hair away from her neck and blew on it to cool her down.

“God Almighty, Rhett. That is heating me up from the core, making me think about sex.”

He kissed her between the shoulder blades and unfastened her bra. “And that takes your mind off everything, right?”

“But I’m not through bitchin’,” she said.

“Bitch away, sweetheart,” he said.

“The sentence they have to write a hundred times is: I will not punch another child in the face, no matter what the reason, ever again at the Burnt Boot Public School, and I will talk to my teacher when I am angry instead of hitting another kid.”

“Good grief.” He laughed. “That’s a paragraph, not a sentence.”

“I tried to get more words into it but I was too mad to think,” she said.

“Is that all that happened?”

She sighed. “Wanda called me into her office to tell me about the school board meeting. She says that of the five members, three have been approached by the Gallaghers. I didn’t tell her we were solving the problem ourselves. I want Betsy Gallagher to be totally surprised.”

“The end?” he asked.

“Oh, no. We’re only about halfway through the iceberg. My mama sent me a message. She said that she heard I’d moved off River Bend, and when I was ready to talk, she’d meet me somewhere.”

His thumbs worked the knots from her shoulders and neck as he thought about that for a few seconds. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I want to talk to her. I really do, and I will, but not this week—maybe not even next week. This week, I’m planning a birthday party for Millie at school on Thursday and then I’m going straight to the church to put on my pretty dress and marry my soul mate. After that, I’ll talk to my mama.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, Leah.” He stopped massaging and took a T-shirt from one of his dresser drawers. “Supper is ready. Put this on and we’ll eat.”

“A man who cooks and massages. I’m one lucky woman.”

“Not as lucky as I am to have found you,” he said.

* * *

Thursday lasted three days past eternity. The boys turned in their papers with all their sentences, along with a few notes from Brennan parents saying that this was excessive punishment for fighting. The Gallaghers notes were much more colorful and promised that she’d be fired at the end of the year for picking on their children.

There is nothing like cupcakes and juice packs to make a kid forget all about fighting and punishments, and Millie beamed when everyone in the classroom sang happy birthday to her. Carrie stood beside her and sang the loudest of anyone, which gave Leah a ray of hope that someday the feud would end.

The minute the last bell rang and the last child was out of her classroom, she pulled the blinds in her classroom and locked the door. She peeled out of her slacks, removed her shirt, set her blond ponytail loose, and reapplied makeup. Then she pulled the white eyelet dress from the box under her desk and stepped into it.

She’d always thought she’d get married at River Bend and come down the big staircase on her father’s arm. But in that dream, she hadn’t felt the excitement that she did right then. Today, in less than an hour she was going to marry Rhett O’Donnell. She would no longer be a Brennan, and tomorrow she could tell the kids to call her Mrs. O’Donnell instead of Miz Leah. She pulled on a pair of new, white cowboy boots with lace insets and tucked all of her other things into the box, leaving it under her desk.

He picked her up at the school on the cycle, and that day he wore a white pearl-snap shirt, a string tie, and black jeans that hugged his body like a glove. His ponytail had been set free, and he smelled like pure heaven. Whatever that shaving lotion was, it was intoxicating as hell.

“You look gorgeous,” he said.

“You look sexy,” she whispered.

“Oh, honey, this old cowboy could never be as sexy as you are.” He bent to kiss her, but she turned away.

“Not until the preacher says it’s okay for you to kiss the bride.” She grinned.

“Then it had better be a short ceremony.” He handed her a bouquet of mimosa, baby’s breath, and greenery tied up with a sage-green ribbon. “The ribbon is the color of your eyes.”

“You are a romantic,” she said.

“Only with you.”

“We’ve got about twenty minutes to get this done and get to the school board meeting,” Gladys called from the front pew.

“Yes, ma’am.” Rhett crooked his arm and Leah put hers though it. Polly played the traditional music on the church piano as they strolled up the aisle together toward the pulpit.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this fine September day to join Leah Christina Brennan and Rhett Jonathan O’Donnell in holy matrimony.” The preacher’s voice echoed off the walls of the nearly empty church.

Leah handed her bouquet to Gladys and slipped both of her hands into Rhett’s. His touch gave her the courage to take the leap of faith even though they’d only known each other a few weeks. “I love you,” she mouthed.

“I love you,” he mouthed back.

Ten minutes later, the preacher finished the ceremony with a prayer and then said, “Rhett, you may kiss your bride.”

He bent her backwards in a true Hollywood kiss that made her knees go weak. As he was lifting her up, she got a little vision of what life would be like with him and every single moment was wonderful.

“And now, I believe we all have a school board meeting to attend,” Polly said.

Gladys shook her head. “Not until all three of us sign that paper. Then we’ll go to the meeting.”

Leah rode on the back of the motorcycle back to the school, dress hiked up to her knees, hair blowing behind her, and the bouquet in her hands that were wrapped around Rhett’s chest. A few sprigs of baby’s breath blew past her arm, but she only wanted a small piece of mimosa to press as a keepsake, so that didn’t matter.

He parked, helped her dismount, and waited for her to choose the prettiest bit of mimosa. Then he snipped a bit of the ribbon away with his pocketknife for her to tuck away in the saddlebag.

“I’m going to throw this right at Honey,” she explained.

“Too bad I don’t have a garter to toss.” He smiled.

She jerked her dress’s hem up, and there was a blue satin garter up high on her thigh. “I had to have something blue. Take it off and throw it, but not toward Tanner.”

Rhett kissed her on the thigh as he pulled the garter down and over her boot.

The dull sound of lots of people talking at once filled the cafeteria, but everything went totally quiet when Leah and Rhett made their entrance. If a dust bunny had scooted across the floor, it would have sounded like a mountain lion plodding across a tin roof.

“You ready for this part?” Rhett asked.

“I’m ready to get it over with and go home to Double Shot to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

The president of the school board tapped a gavel on the wooden table. “The meeting is called to order and the first thing on the agenda is a petition from the Gallaghers to have Leah Brennan removed from the classroom because she is cohabiting with Rhett O’Donnell. Naomi, you may have three minutes to state your cause.”

The preacher maneuvered his way through the people and laid the marriage license out in front of the five-member school board panel sitting at the front of the room. “Excuse me, sir. I’m not on the agenda, but I do have pertinent information that may have a bearing on this part of the school board meeting.”

“Is this what I think it is?” the president asked.

“It is a marriage license stating that Leah and Rhett are married. I have the three witnesses who signed it right here with me, and I’m the one who performed the ceremony,” he said.

“Well then, I believe that satisfies this school board and settles the issue. That’s all we were going to discuss at this emergency meeting so I declare the meeting adjourned,” he said.

“We will have this annulled tomorrow morning!” Mavis yelled across the room at Leah.

“I don’t think so, Granny. You don’t have the power or enough money to do that,” Leah answered. “Hey, Honey, catch this.” She threw the bouquet right at her cousin, but it went over her head and landed in Betsy Gallagher’s lap.

“Some eligible bachelor needs to catch this!” Rhett yelled.

He popped the garter out across the room and it hung on Declan Brennan’s ear.

“Well, how about that?” Leah said.

“I’m not even sure God could make that come true.” Gladys giggled.

* * *

Rhett carried Leah over the threshold with Dammit right behind them. “Welcome home, Mrs. O’Donnell. I do like the way that rolls off my tongue.”

“Tastes like a double shot of Jack, doesn’t it?” She smiled.

“Better. Much better. Supper awaits in our room, with the door shut to the dog and the cats,” he said.

“Dessert first or after?”

“Your choice.” He grinned. “Now wouldn’t it be something if we sealed your brother’s fate with Betsy Gallagher’s, since they caught the garter belt and bouquet?”

“I’ll shoot him before I let him get tangled up with that hussy. Now carry me on into the bedroom. I’m thinking I want dessert first.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Read on for a peek at
What Happens in Texas
(previously released as
The Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society Jubilee
), coming soon in mass market format

* * *

If Prissy Parnell hadn’t married Buster Jones and left Cadillac, Texas, for Pasadena, California, Marty wouldn’t have gotten the speeding ticket. It was all Prissy’s damn fault that Marty was in such a hurry to get to the Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society monthly meeting that night, so Prissy ought to have to shell out the almost two hundred dollars for that ticket.

They were already passing around the crystal bowl to take up the voting ballots when Marty slung open the door to Violet Prescott’s sunroom and yelled, “Don’t count ’em without my vote.”

Twenty faces turned to look at her and not a one of them, not even her twin sister, Cathy, was smiling. Hell’s bells, who had done pissed on their cucumber sandwiches before she got there, anyway? A person didn’t drop dead from lack of punctuality, did they?

One wall of the sunroom was glass and looked out over lush green lawns and flower gardens. The other three were covered with shadowboxes housing the blue ribbons that the members had won at the Texas State Fair for their jalapeño pepper entries. More than forty shadowboxes all reminding the members of their history and their responsibility for the upcoming year.

“It appears that Martha has decided to grace us with her presence once again when it is time to vote for someone to take our dear Prissy’s place in the Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society. We really should amend our charter to state that a member has to attend more than one meeting every two years. You could appreciate the fact that we did amend it once to include you in the membership with your sister, who, by the way, has a spotless attendance record,” Violet said.

Violet, the queen of the club, as most of the members called it, was up near eighty years old, built like SpongeBob SquarePants, and had stovepipe jet-black hair right out of the bottle. Few people had the balls or the nerve to cross her, and those who did were put on her shit list right under Martha, a.k.a. Marty, Andrews’s name, which was always on the top.

Marty hated it when people called her Martha. It sounded like an old woman’s name. What was her mother thinking anyway when she looked down at two little identical twin baby daughters and named them after her mother and aunt—Martha and Catherine? Thank God she’d at least shortened their names to Marty and Cathy.

Marty shrugged, and Violet snorted. Hell, if they wanted to write forty amendments to the charter, Marty would still do only the bare necessities to keep her in voting standing. She hadn’t even wanted to be in the damned club and had only done it because if she didn’t, then Cathy couldn’t.

Marty slid into a seat beside her sister and held up her ballot.

Beulah had the bowl in hand and was ready to hand it off to Violet to read off the votes. But she passed it to the lady on the other side of her and it went back around the circle to Marty, who tossed in her folded piece of paper. If she’d done her homework and gotten the numbers right, that one vote should swing the favor for Anna Ruth to be the new member of the club. She didn’t like Anna Ruth, especially since she’d broken up her best friend’s marriage. But hey, Marty had made a deathbed promise to her mamma, and that carried more weight than the name of a hussy on a piece of paper.

The bowl went back to Violet and she put it in her lap like the coveted jeweled crown of a reigning queen. “Our amended charter states that only twenty-one women can belong to the Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society at any one time, and the only time we vote a new member in is when someone moves or dies. Since Prissy Parnell got married this past week and moved away from Grayson County, we are open for one new member. The four names on the ballet are: Agnes Flynn, Trixie Matthews, Anna Ruth Williams, and Gloria Rawlings.”

Even though it wasn’t in the fine print, everyone knew that when attending a meeting, the members should dress for the occasion, which meant panty hose and heels. Marty could feel nineteen pairs of eyes on her. It would have been twenty, but Violet was busy fishing the first ballot from the fancy bowl.

Marty threw one long leg over the other and let the bright red three-inch high-heeled shoe dangle on her toe. They could frown all they wanted. She was wearing a dress, even if it only reached midthigh, and had black spandex leggings under it. If they wanted her to wear panty hose, they’d better put a second amendment on that charter and make it in big print.

God Almighty, but she’d be glad when her great-aunt died and she could quit the club. But it looked like Agnes was going to last forever, which was no surprise. God sure didn’t want her in heaven, and the devil wouldn’t have her in hell.

“One vote for Agnes,” Violet said aloud.

Beulah marked that down on the minutes and waited.

Violet enjoyed her role as president of the club and took her own sweet time with each ballot. Too bad she hadn’t dropped dead or at least moved to California so Cathy could be president. Marty would bet her sister would get those votes counted a hell of a lot faster.

There was one piece of paper in the candy dish when Beulah held up a hand. “We’ve got six each for Agnes, Trixie, Anna Ruth, and two for Gloria. Unless this last vote is for Agnes, Trixie, or Anna Ruth, we have a tie, and we’ll have to have a runoff election.”

“Shit!” Marty mumbled.

Cathy shot her a dirty look.

“Anna Ruth,” Violet said and let out a whoosh of air.

A smile tickled the corner of Marty’s mouth.

Saved, by damn!

Agnes was saved from prison.

Violet was saved from attending her own funeral.

The speeding ticket was worth every penny.

* * *

Trixie poked the black button beside the nursing home door and kicked yellow and orange leaves away as she reached for the handle. She heard the familiar click as the lock let go and then heard someone yell her name.

“Hey, Trixie. Don’t shut it. We are here,” Cathy called out.

Trixie waved at her two best friends: Cathy and Marty Andrews. Attitude and hair color kept them from being identical. They were five feet ten inches tall and slim built, but Cathy kept blond highlights in her brown hair and Marty’s was natural. In attitude, they were as different as vanilla and chocolate. Cathy was the sweet twin who loved everyone and had trouble speaking her mind. Marty was the extrovert who called the shots like she saw them. Cathy was engaged, and Marty said there were too many cowboys she hadn’t taken to bed to get herself tied down to one man.

Marty threw an arm around Trixie’s shoulder as they marched down the wide hall. Trixie’s mother, Janie Matthews, had checked herself into the nursing home four years before when her Alzheimer’s had gotten so bad that she didn’t know Trixie one day. Trixie had tried to talk her mother into living with her, but Janie was lucid enough to declare that she couldn’t live alone and her daughter had to work.

“Congratulations, darlin’, you did not make it into the club tonight. Your life has been spared until someone dies or moves away and Cathy nominates you again,” Marty said.

“Well, praise the Lord,” Trixie said.

“I know. Let’s string Cathy up by her toenails and force-feed her fried potatoes until her wedding dress won’t fit for even putting your name in the pot.” Marty laughed.

“Trixie would be a wonderful addition to the club. She wouldn’t let Violet run her around like a windup toy. That’s why I keep nominating her every chance I get,” Cathy said. “Anna Ruth is going to be a brand new puppet in Violet’s hands. Every bit as bad as Gloria would have been.”

Trixie stopped so fast that Marty’s hand slipped off her shoulder. “Anna Ruth?”

“Sorry.” Cathy shrugged. “I’m surprised that she won and she only did by one vote.”

Trixie did a head wiggle. “Don’t the world turn around? My mamma wasn’t fit for the club because she had me out of wedlock. And now Anna Ruth is living with my husband without a marriage certificate and she gets inducted. If she has a baby before they marry, do they have a big divorce ceremony and kick her out?”

“I never thought she’d get it,” Cathy said. “I don’t know how in the world I’m going to put up with her in club, knowing that she’s the one that broke up your marriage.”

Trixie paled. “Who’s going to tell Agnes that she didn’t get it again? Lord, she’s going to be an old bear all week.”

“That’s Beulah’s job. She nominated her. I’m just damn glad I have a class tonight. Maybe the storm will be over before I get home,” Marty said.

Cathy smiled weakly. “And I’ve got dinner with Ethan back at Violet’s in an hour.”

“I’m not even turning on the lights when I get home. Maybe she’ll think I’ve died.” Trixie started walking again.

“You okay with the Anna Ruth thing?” Marty asked.

Trixie nodded. “Can’t think of a better thing to happen to y’all’s club.”

“It’s not my club,” Marty said. “I’m just there so Cathy can be in it. I’m not sure Violet would let her precious son marry a woman who wasn’t in the al-damn-mighty Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society. I still can’t believe that Violet is okay with her precious son marrying one of the Andrews twins.”

Cathy pointed a long slender finger at her sister. “Don’t you start with me! And I’m not the feisty twin. You are. I can’t see Violet letting Ethan marry you for sure.”

“Touchy, are we? Well, darlin’ sister, I wouldn’t have that man, mostly because I’d have to put up with Violet.” Marty giggled.

“Shhh, no fighting. It’ll upset Mamma.” Trixie rapped gently on the frame of the open door and poked her head inside a room. “Anyone at home?”

Janie Matthews clapped her hands and her eyes lit up. She and Trixie were mirror images of each other—short, slim built, light brown hair, milk-chocolate-colored eyes, and delicate features. Trixie wore her hair in a chin-length bob, and Janie’s was long, braided, and wrapped around her head in a crown. Other than that and a few wrinkles around Janie’s eyes, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.

“Why, Clawdy Burton, you’ve come to visit. Sit down, darlin’, and let’s talk. You aren’t still mad at me, are you?”

Marty crossed the room and sat down beside Janie on the bed, leaving the two chairs in the room for Cathy and Trixie. It wasn’t the first time Janie had mistaken her for Claudia, the twins’ mother, or the first time that she’d remembered Claudia by her maiden name, either.

“I brought some friends,” Marty said.

“Any friend of Clawdy’s is a friend of mine. Come right in here. You look familiar. Did you go to school with me and Clawdy?” Janie looked right at her daughter.

“I did,” Trixie said.

Janie’s brow furrowed. “I can’t put a name with your face.”

“I’m Trixie.”

Janie shook her head. “Sorry, honey, I don’t remember you. And you?” She looked into Cathy’s eyes.

“She’s my sister, Cathy, remember?” Marty asked.

“Well, ain’t that funny. I never knew Clawdy to have a sister. You must be older than we are, but I can see the resemblance.”

“Yes, ma’am, I didn’t know you as well as”—Cathy paused—“my little sister did, but I remember coming to your house.”

“Did Mamma make fried chicken for you?”

“Oh, honey, I’ve eaten fried chicken more than once at your house,” Cathy said.

“Good. Mamma makes the best fried chicken in the whole world. She and Clawdy’s mamma know how to do it just right. Now, Clawdy, tell me you aren’t mad at me. I made a mistake runnin’ off with Rusty like that, but we can be friends now, can’t we?”

Marty patted her on the arm. “You know I could never stay mad at you.”

“I’m just so glad you got my letter and came to visit.” Janie looked at Trixie and drew her eyes down. “You look just like a girl I used to know. It’s right there on the edge of my mind, but I’ve got this remembering disease. That’s why I’m in here, so they can help me.” She turned her attention back to Marty. “You really aren’t mad at me anymore?”

“Of course not. You were in love with Rusty or you wouldn’t have run off with him,” Marty said. They had this conversation often so she knew exactly what to say.

“I did love him, but he found someone new, so I had to bring my baby girl and come on back home. How are your girls?” She jumped at least five years from thinking she and Claudia were in school to the time when they were new mothers.

“They’re fine. Let’s talk about you,” Marty said.

Janie yawned. “Clawdy, darlin’, I’m so sorry, but I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.”

It was always the same. On Wednesday nights, Trixie visited with Janie. Sometimes, when they had time between closing the café and their other Wednesday evening plans, Marty and Cathy went with her. And always after fifteen or twenty minutes, on a good night, she was sleepy.

“That’s okay, Janie. We’ll come see you again soon,” Marty said.

Trixie stopped at the doorway and waved.

Janie frowned. “I’m sorry I can’t remember you. You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago, but I can’t recall your name. Were you the Jalapeño Jubilee queen this year? Maybe that’s where I saw you.”

“No, ma’am. They don’t crown queens anymore. But it’s okay. I remember you real well,” Trixie said.

* * *

Less than half an hour later, Trixie parked beside a big two-story house sitting on the corner of Main and Fourth in Cadillac, Texas. The sign outside the house said
Miss Clawdy’s Café
in fancy lettering. Above it were the words:
Red Beans and Turnip Greens.

It had started as a joke after Cathy and Marty’s mamma, Claudia, died and the three of them were going through her recipes. They’d actually been searching for “the secret,” but evidently Claudia took it to the grave with her.

More than forty years ago, Grayson County and Fannin County women were having a heated argument over who could grow the hottest jalapeños in North Texas. Idalou Thomas, over in Fannin County, had won the contest for her jalapeño corn bread and her jalapeño pepper jelly so many years that most people dropped plumb out of the running. But that year, Claudia’s mamma decided to try a little something different, and she watered her pepper plants with the water she used to rinse out her unmentionables. That was the very year that Fannin County lost their title in all of the jalapeño categories to Grayson County at the Texas State Fair. They brought home a blue ribbon in every category that had anything to do with growing or cooking with jalapeño peppers. That was also the year that Violet Prescott and several other women formed the Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society. The next fall, they held their First Annual Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society Jubilee in Cadillac, Texas.