Wild Cowboy Ways (9 page)

Those dark eyes mesmerized him and Blake wished that she'd let him in long enough to see into her heart. He knew women, could look into their eyes, see past the glitter and glam, and know what they wanted from him. If it was a good time, he provided it. If it was a relationship, he was gone in a hurry. But this was something different. Could he really be courting a woman for friendship? If so, he was damn sure in virgin territory.

Deke pushed back his chair, picked up his plate, and carried it to the sink. “I bet that's Nadine's apple pie, isn't it?”

“That's what the ladies said. Help yourself to all you want. I hate apple pie. Ice cream is in the freezer if you want to top it off,” Blake said.

Allie pushed back her chair. “I'm too full for dessert, even Nadine's pie, which I do like. I'm going back up on the roof. See you when you get done. Thanks for dinner, Blake. We'll discuss the next job after we finish the roof.”

Blake waited until she was out of the house to ask, “What's her story?”

“Lived here in Dry Creek all her life, most of it over at Audrey's Place. Crazy the way that name has stuck for more than a hundred years.”

“House is almost a hundred years old?” Blake rinsed dirty dishes and set them aside.

“Pretty close to that. Before the Depression it was a small hotel but Audrey found out pretty quick that folks didn't have money for traveling. No one ever called it a brothel but she hired six girls, gave them a room and three meals a day and a big cut of what they made. At least, that's the story. Who knows what is true and what is rumor around here?”

Blake poured two cups of coffee and set one in front of Deke. “It looks like it held up good.”

“Foundation is good and solid. Allie is afraid to knock out walls for fear the ceiling will sag. I told her that she couldn't knock them out because the studs are petrified by now,” Deke answered.

Not caring that he was being nosy, he wandered into personal territory that went deeper than mere friendship. “Tell me more about Allie.”

Deke dug into his pie. “She has two sisters. Lizzy that you met and Fiona who lives down in Houston. Works for some big crackerjack law firm and is married to one of the partners. Allie's daddy was a carpenter and she learned the trade from him. Married right out of high school. Divorced after two or three years. Can't remember exactly how long they were together, but he cheated on her. The rest you'll have to ask her. She's my best friend and I'm not getting into any more trouble.”

“Sometimes her eyes look sad,” Blake said.

Dozens of wrinkles creased Deke's forehead when he frowned. “Allie? Sad? Not that woman. She's the happiest woman I know. She likes what she does and she's the easiest woman in the world to work with and for.”

“How long has she been a carpenter?”

Deke polished off his tea and refilled it one more time. “She started helping her dad when she was in middle school. I think she was about fifteen when she went on the payroll. She bought the cutest little pickup truck when she was sixteen. She's still got that truck somewhere over there at their place, but mostly she drives the business van these days.”

Blake nodded, remembering his first crush on an older girl. “Gloria Anderson.”

“Who?” Deke asked.

Blake grinned. “She was my Allie. I was about twelve and she was seventeen and in love with the football quarterback.”

Deke piled ice cream on top of the apple pie and carried it to the table. “Seems like we all do that, don't it? When I was sixteen and she was twenty, she hired me to help her put the first roof on a house. It was her first solo job and she was so nervous and—damn you, Blake Dawson, you got more out of me than I should have told. You interested in her or what?”

“She's going to be working on my house. I wondered if something about this place makes her sad, like her ex-husband lived here at one time. Or if maybe she used to sneak off and meet him here?”

“Hell, no! Riley wasn't…” Deke shook his head. “All I'm sayin' is that this house does not make her sad and my lips are sealed past that. You want to know more about Allie, you go to talk to her. She'd fire me on the spot for shootin' off my mouth. Now I'm going to change the subject. Are you going to tear up some more mesquite after dinner or start fixin' fence?”

Blake cocked his head to one side. “Why would you ask that?”

“There's the feed store truck coming down the lane.” Deke pointed out the window. “I reckon it's bringin' all that barbed wire and those fence posts you bought. There are no secrets in Dry Creek, especially when it comes to the Lucky Penny. You might as well live in a glass house.”

“Why are folks so interested?” Blake's skin crawled at the idea of people watching him through the windows of a glass house.

“Because you are the new guy in town and they want to see if you'll last through the winter. They've probably already got bets on how long you'll stay. The ones who bet for you will be nice and the others, not so much. You'd better get out there and tell them where to unload that stuff or they'll drop it right in your front yard.”

A
llie hummed as she made her way to the kitchen that Friday morning. She was sure she and Deke could finish the roofing that day. Rays of sun poured into the foyer through the window in the door and the aroma of fresh coffee floated from the kitchen. The humming stopped when she saw Lizzy sitting at the table. Their kitchen wasn't as big as the one over at the Lucky Penny, but their dining room could match it for size. Most of their meals they took in the kitchen unless they had company and then Katy set the table in the dining room.

Allie liked the kitchen better with its bright yellow walls and white woodwork. It brought cheer into the house on the darkest mornings. But the dining room, with its paneled walls and heavy curtains, told a different story. It said to sit up straight and be nice, there was company in the house.

“It's your morning to make breakfast,” Lizzy said coldly. “I made coffee, but I'm not helping cook, not if you won't go with me and Mitch and Grady to dinner tonight.”

Allie filled her father's favorite mug and sipped it, hoping that holding his old cup would give her the strength for yet another fight with her sister.

“Aren't you going to say a word? You know I'm right. That bad boy next door isn't for you, isn't interested in you other than maybe a quick romp in the sheets, so wake up and smell the bacon,” Lizzy said.

“What makes him a bad boy?” Allie asked.

“Sharlene and Mary Jo have been over there already and he's been flirting with them. I heard he even called Dora June sweetheart and she's sour as rotten lemons. If she smiled more than twice in a year, she'd probably drop dead. Sharlene says that she intends to bed and wed him by the end of the year and you know how wild that girl is. Only a bad boy would take her eye,” Lizzy answered.

“What I do or do not do with the cowboy next door is my business. I'm old enough to take care of myself.” Allie sipped the steaming-hot coffee. “Besides, who died and made you God?”

“Don't blaspheme!” Lizzy raised her voice.

Irene shuffled into the room with Katy right behind her. “Don't yell in the house.”

“Mama, talk some sense to your oldest daughter.” Lizzy rolled her eyes.

“God is a hell of a lot farther away than the ceiling, so you might as well not be lookin' up there expecting him to leave important work to settle your fight.” Irene went to the cabinet, poured a cup of coffee, and took it to the table. “Is Allie cooking this morning? If she is, I want pancakes.”

Allie began to gather the ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry. “I'm tired of this fight, Mama. And yes, Granny, we are having pancakes if that's what you want.”

“We need to get this settled,” Lizzy said.

“Sounds to me like it is settled,” Irene said. “Lizzy, you need to stop your whining and carryin' on like a two-year-old. Allie don't like that rascal Grady and neither do I. He's got wandering eyes and probably hands that match.”

“Granny, he's a youth minister!” Lizzy protested.

“That don't mean shit, girl. There have been men since the beginnin' of time that wasn't worth a damn and Grady is one of them. His ancestors probably spent a lot of time in this very house back when Audrey was doin' what she could to keep soul and body together,” Irene declared with a frown. “And you can wipe that grin off your face, Allie. Ain't no good ever come from the Lucky Penny so you need to be careful, too.”

Lizzy exhaled so loudly it bordered on a snort. “I thought you'd want her to be involved with a decent man rather than someone who'll just run off and break her heart again.”

Irene scratched her temple. “If you two want to fight, then take two butcher knives to the backyard but remember, the one who comes back in the house had better have the strength to dig a six-foot hole because I'm not helping you. And remember, too, that the ground is cold and harder than a mother-in-law's heart.”

Lizzy pushed her chair back. “I'm going to the store. I don't want pancakes.”

Irene grabbed Lizzy's arm. “You are not going anywhere. You are going to sit down and behave yourself and when Allie has breakfast ready, you are going to ask the blessing on it this morning. God needs to soften up your spirit or you'll never make a preacher's wife.” Irene blew on her coffee and then sipped it loudly. “And it wouldn't hurt you to learn how to make decent pancakes. Allie's are light and fluffy. Yours are like shoe leather. If your marriage depends on your pancakes, Mitch will throw your ass out in the cold within a week.”

Lizzy threw up both palms defensively. “Hey, why is this pick-on-Lizzy Friday? I don't think Mitch is going to leave me because my pancakes aren't perfect.”

Allie pulled a cast iron skillet down from the hooks in the utility room and set it on the stove to heat while she mixed up the batter. “I remember when you used to make pancakes for us girls at breakfast. And in the hot summer you let us pretend the big tub upstairs was our swimming pool and you let us take our Barbie dolls swimming.”

Irene's thin mouth broke into a lovely smile. “Remember when you played beauty shop and cut all their hair off, Allie?”

Lizzy raised a hand. “I do. I hated her for weeks for making my dolls look like boys.”

“Boys?” The light went out of Irene's eyes as suddenly as if someone had flipped a switch. “I hear there's a new boy over at the Lucky Penny.”

Allie crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her grandmother. Maybe a hug would bring her back for a little while. “Yes, there is, Granny. His name is Blake Dawson. You've met him.”

Irene shook her head. “His name is Walter, not Blake. That's not a first name. It's a last name.”

“Let's talk about my wedding. I think you'd look lovely in a dark purple dress since the bridesmaids are all wearing orchid,” Lizzy said.

Katy wore her robe and slippers to the kitchen that morning. She poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the head of the table. “I think you'd look lovely in a dark purple dress, Mama.”

“I thought you picked out pink for your wedding. When did you change your mind to purple? I've already bought my dress. Now what are we going to do? Besides you know I hate purple. Always have,” Irene said.

Katy patted her mother's shoulder. “Lizzy is mixed up. Of course she's using pink for her wedding.”

“Good. I'm going to the bathroom to wash my hands. Will my pancakes be ready when I get back?”

“Yes, Granny,” Allie answered.

“It was good to have her for a few minutes.” Katy sighed.

Allie stacked three pancakes on the side of a plate and added as many sausage patties on the other side. “Mama, I've figured out the triggers that send her backward in time so fast these past few days. It's when we talk about Lizzy's wedding and the Lucky Penny. She keeps thinking about this Walter guy who lived there when you were planning your wedding and getting times all jumbled up in her mind.”

“Makes sense,” Lizzy said. “You shouldn't mention the Lucky Penny in front of her and you shouldn't take that job. Which is more important? Having the money from the job, which you don't even need, or having Granny lucid for a little bit each day?”

“Then you shouldn't get married to Mitch. Which is more important to you? Marrying a man who's going to expect you to be this little submissive wife who bows to his every command, or having Granny lucid?” Allie shot right back at her.

“I'm marryin' Mitch whether you like him or not.” Lizzy tilted her head like she used to do when they were kids and she knew she was wrong but all the angels in heaven couldn't get her to admit it.

One of Allie's worst fears was realized in that moment. Lizzy was arguing too hard for Mitch. She had always been levelheaded when it came to business and relationships, seeing opportunities in business, knowing when a relationship was headed in the wrong direction. Her sister was marrying that snake-in-the-grass because she wanted to be married and any man would do—even a self-righteous prick who would make her life miserable in the end.

“And I'm going to work at the ranch next door,” Allie said. “So I guess Granny is going to have lots of bad days.”

Allie was on Blake's mind that Friday evening as dusk settled on the Lucky Penny. He was in one of the spare bedrooms gazing at more unopened boxes, when someone rapped hard on the front door. Hoping that Toby had decided to surprise him by showing up that weekend, he turned around so fast that he had to catch himself on the wall to keep from falling over Shooter.

Shooter raced him to the door but he wagged his tail when Blake threw it open to find Deke.

“Come right in. What's going on?”

Deke was dressed in creased jeans and a pearl snap plaid shirt, and his boots were shined. “Let's slip up over the county line and go have some barbecue.” He winked.

“There's food in the house. We don't have to go out and buy more.”

Deke chuckled. “Frankie's is way back in the woods and it's more than barbecue, but in order to get a drink, which is illegal as hell right there, you have to buy some food.”

“A bar! Hot damn! How far is it from here?”

“Maybe nine miles. Got to warn you, it's not a country bar. How fast can you be ready?”

“Give me ten minutes. Does it serve beer?” Blake was already on the move toward his bedroom at the end of the hallway.

“Yes, they serve beer but you'll want to try Frankie's special brew and have some barbecue before you start lookin' at the ladies.” The crunch of tires on the gravel outside brought Shooter's hackles back up for the second time. “Go on. I'll get the door. It's most likely Herman asking how early he can be here tomorrow morning. He was up around Archer City all day cuttin' wood or he would have been around sooner. He's real interested in getting all the mesquite he can to sell at his wood yard.”

“He could have called. I put my number on the flyer.” Blake's excitement level jacked up from the bottom of the barrel to cloud level in the time it took him to find a decent pair of jeans, dust off his boots, and change shirts.

Blake was on his way to the living room when Deke opened the door and said, “Come on in here out of the cold. Blake and I are about to take a ride. Want to go with us?”

“No thanks,” Allie answered. “I came to do some measuring for supplies if that's okay,” she said. “I can do it tomorrow though if y'all are going out.”

“You're running away from family.” Deke chuckled.

“Maybe…But I do need to measure the rooms to get an idea of how much drywall to buy.”

“You might as well go with us if you are running from family.” Blake grinned.

“And maybe Grady and Lizzy will get the message if they figure out you'd rather be with us as with them.” Deke chuckled.

“I didn't come over here to crash y'all's party,” she said.

He'd always seen her in cargo pants and paint-splattered knit shirts, but tonight she wore skinny jeans, cowboy boots, and a knit top that stretched over her breasts and cinched in a tiny waist above well-rounded hips. Her hair, usually worn in two dark braids with a stocking hat stuffed down over them or a ponytail, hung to her shoulders in soft waves.

“I'm not taking no for an answer. You can measure tomorrow morning. We're going for a ride. Besides you're dressed up. Be a shame to waste all that beauty.” Deke placed his hands on her shoulders and ushered her out onto the porch. “I'll drive, Blake, since I know the way.”

In minutes Allie found herself wedged between two big cowboys in the front seat of Deke's truck, heading north out of town. The sun was dropping quickly behind the gently rolling hills and the moon had already made its appearance. Stars would be popping out soon, but right then that lazy part of the evening called dusk had settled in and she didn't care where they were going as long as it took her away from Grady.

Deke turned the radio on to the country music station but she couldn't concentrate on the songs that played one after the other. Not with Blake sitting so close that she could practically feel his pulse and especially not when they hit a bump in the road and it sent her sliding even closer to him.

She righted herself and listened to Lizzy's voice in her head lecturing her about how foolish she was to even go for a ride with those two bad boys. She pushed the voice away about the time they passed from Throckmorton County over into Baylor County, and her eyes widened, grew dry when she couldn't blink, and then she gasped.

“My God, Deke, are you headed for Frankie's?”

“I am.” He grinned. “How do you know about Frankie's?”

“Everyone knows about it, but…” she stammered.

Deke patted her knee. “But no decent folks go there, right? Matter of fact, if Frankie don't know you pretty good, then you don't get anything but barbecue. He'll tell you that the beer and the liquor is for his personal use and isn't for sale. Don't worry, darlin'. Frankie knows me and if I vouch for you two, he won't toss you out on your asses.”

“What is this place, anyway?” Blake asked.

“Private barbecue club, but I have a membership since Frankie buys his beef from me. Don't know who he gets the pork from but they've probably got a membership card, too.”

“Have you ever been there?” Blake asked Allie.

“Hell, no!”

Deke made a left turn and then a right before the road ended in a rutted trail that led another quarter of a mile through thick mesquite and scrub oak. Finally, he parked in front of a weathered old two-story house with dim lights showing through the downstairs window. “Well, y'all are going tonight. We're going to have some of the best ribs in the world and then we're going to have a few drinks and maybe dance to the jukebox.”