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Authors: Carolyn Brown

Honky Tonk Christmas (23 page)

BOOK: Honky Tonk Christmas
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“God did not say that. He don’t talk to you. He only talks to the youngest and that’s why they get to pray before we eat,” Judd said.

“If you don’t stop arguing, then your green beans are going to be cold,” Sharlene said. “And Waylon is going to finish before you do and get his chocolate pie first.”

Holt squeezed her hand before he let go and picked up his fork and knife.

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

“Don’t you even look at me like that, Waylon. I’m not eating too fast,” Judd declared.

“If either of you eat too fast, your stomachs will hurt and you won’t be able to eat your pie,” Sharlene said.

“So you’d best eat slowly and do it without all the bickering,” Holt said.

Judd nodded and chewed slower.

Waylon did the same.

“So tell me about this addition to Merle’s place,” Sharlene said.

“It’s a twenty-by-twenty-four-foot room across the back of her house. Long glass windows on three sides. The fourth wall will be up against the house so it’ll be brick. She says her cutting tables and designing desk will go against that wall since they don’t require electricity. It won’t take as long as your job did because it’s mainly just framing and setting windows,” he said. “This is really good chicken fried steak. The kids and I haven’t tried this place. I forget about it being this close. Tell me about your book. How’s it coming along?”

“Wonderful. My editor is ecstatic.”

“What’s it about?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.”

“It’s about a hooker who goes to sleep in a brothel one night in the late eighteen hundreds and wakes up the next morning in the modern day world. She’s in bed with a redneck husband, living in a double-wide trailer out on a few acres. She made the mistake of saying that she wished she lived a hundred years in the future, so the old witch traveling on the train with her granted her the wish without telling her about it.”

He almost choked. “Don’t tell me something like that when I’ve got food in my mouth. I almost choked to death. Is that really what your book is about?”

“It is. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. She thinks she’s died and gone to hell.”

“What happens?” Holt asked.

“They learn to love each other in spite of the time differences.”

“How does it end?”

“Happily never after.” Sharlene grinned.

Chapter 12

Larissa put her baby daughter in Sharlene’s lap and sat down in the rocking chair next to her. There was a little nip in the air, the promise of fall after a long hot summer.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it? You look pretty good holding that baby. You sure you want to be an old maid?”

Sharlene nodded but Larissa noticed the brief hesitation.

“So tell me about the addition. I can’t wait to see it. How’s it going with the crowd being so much bigger?”

“Very well. Tessa’s sister, Darla, is working for me full time. Tessa and Luther take Monday night off now and Kent is stepping in as a bouncer. That’s the only night we only have two bartenders. The rest of the week there’s three of us. And on weekends we stay busier than a hooker at a Shriner’s convention in Las Vegas.”

“That’s pretty busy. Holt ever come around to the Tonk?” Larissa asked.

“I know you too well for you to sneak up on my blind side like that,” Sharlene said.

“Well, does he?” Larissa pushed back a strand of dark hair.

“Once when the kids were off with Gloria and Chad to the movies. Other than that, he’s had kids every night. A single dad isn’t any different than a single mom. He goes home after work to cook supper, do laundry, and all those things,” Sharlene said. She didn’t tell her that she’d been to his house several times or that the only time she could sleep without dreams was in his arms. Or that they’d almost made wild passionate love and only a big old ugly rat had kept them from it.

Judd ran up on the porch. If her tennis shoes had had brakes on them she would have left a long black skid line in her wake when she came to a stop. “Can I look at Ruby again? I love her name. When I grow up and own a tonk I’m going to have a baby like that and I’m going to name her Pearl. Then she can be Ruby’s friend like Sharlene is my friend. Sharlene, can me and Waylon have a drink? We’re both thirsty, only he didn’t want to come and ask acause him and Hank are out there with Holt lookin’ at the cows.”

Larissa pushed herself out of the chair. “I’ll get them a bottle of water. If I put them in a sack, you think you could take four bottles so those big old men could have a drink too?”

“I’m real strong like Sharlene,” Judd said.

Sharlene looked out across the yard and the pasture to the corral where Hank and Holt were talking about cows. Holt hiked a leg up on the lower rail of the fence in a position that stretched his jeans even snugger across his rear end. Sharlene sighed and wished for what she couldn’t have. Not one kiss since the night he’d brought her home from Corn. Not even a near miss. He’d kept his distance and she hadn’t stepped into it.

“Okay, what are you thinking about?” Larissa asked when she sat back down.

“Why?”

“You looked wistful. Like a little kid in a candy store where everything costs a dollar and she’s only got a dime in her pocket. You’re in love with that carpenter, aren’t you? The Honky Tonk charm did not end with me,” Larissa said.

“It has to. Holt Jackson needs a mother for the children, not a bartender. He needs someone like Loralou or Gloria or probably even Coralynn even though I’ve never met her.” Sharlene put Ruby on her shoulder and began to rock when the baby fussed.

“I see. Well, then tell me about Darla. What’s her story? Sometimes I miss the Honky Tonk and all the drama. I wouldn’t go back and I don’t regret my decision but I miss the hustle and the noise every once in a while.”

“Leave Ruby with Oma and Henry and come visit. She’s three months old now as of today. Born July 16 in a heat wave and today is October 16 and it’s still not cool enough to suit me. I bet you haven’t left her alone once, have you?”

“No, I have not left her and I can’t. Not yet. You sure about that charm slash curse idea? Holt looks at you like he could lay you out naked on satin sheets and have you for breakfast, dinner, and supper,” Larissa whispered.

“That idea raises my blood pressure to the boiling point, but I’m very, very sure,” Sharlene said.

“You slept with him yet?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because the way he looks at you says that he’s unwrapped the candy bar and had a little taste. ’fess up, girl. I was honest about Hank,” Larissa said.

“You were not. You beat around the bush so long and hard that it didn’t have a single leaf on the damn thing. You didn’t ’fess up to anything and I’m not either,” Sharlene said. “Come to the Tonk on Saturday night. You can work behind the bar or dance with Hank. You’ll get it out of your system in about an hour. I didn’t realize that I’d ever miss the quietness of the farm until we went home to Corn and came out here today. But I do and all it takes is a little while and I’m ready to get back into my writing and hustling around behind the bar.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve met your cowboy.”

“Dream on,” Sharlene laughed.

***

Holt smiled when Waylon propped one of his new cowboy boots up on the lower fence rail. “So tell me, son, which one of those calves do you think would be a good one to buy if we ever got our own ranch?”

Waylon studied them, cocking his head from one side to the other. “That one that’s all black over there. He looks mean and tough and a boy cow has to be mean and tough acause that’s what he’s ’posed to be. If he wasn’t he’d be a girl cow.”

Judd handed Holt the sack of water bottles and climbed the fence, threw her legs over the top rail, and sat down. “That’s not the best one. The best one is that feller in the back with his head down.”

“Why’s that?” Hank asked.

“He’s the littlest one. He’s got to be mean or the others will pick on him so he’ll grow up to be the best one. That one that Waylon picked is good for this day but he’s already a big old boy so he don’t have to prove nothin’. It’s that one in the back that’ll be a good boy cow.”

“Well, I appreciate your opinions, guys. I think I’ll keep both of them and we’ll see in a couple of years which one makes the best Angus bull. What are you going to name that calf back there, Judd?” Hank asked.

“Can I name the one I picked out?” Waylon asked.

Hank nodded. He had dark hair that needed a cut, light brown eyes, and was about the same height as Holt. He wore jeans and a faded orange Longhorn sweatshirt and cowboy boots.

“Well, my boy cow’s name is Luther.”

Hank chuckled. “Good name. He’s about the size of a small refrigerator and looks like he might grow up to be as big as Luther.”

“Ain’t nobody as big as Luther. He’s a giant,” Waylon said.

“My boy’s name is Beast and that’s because he’s got shoulders like the beast in
Beauty and the Beast
and I bet if we put clothes on him he’d look like that. And someday he might turn into a prince,” Judd said.

“Bulls don’t turn into princes,” Waylon huffed.

“You don’t know that. Sometimes magic happens,” Judd said. “I been prayin’ for magic to happen and make Sharlene like Uncle Holt. Every time we eat I ask for that and someday it’s going to happen. Hey, you want to go see the goats? Look they’re all comin’ out of that barn.” She pointed in that direction.

One glance and they were off like two bottle rockets toward the goat pen.

“Wouldn’t want to pry but is there any chance her prayers might be going past the kitchen ceiling?” Hank leaned on the fence and wrote numbers and names in a little book he carried in his hip pocket. Calf number 12224 was Beast. Number 12225 was Luther.

“Afraid not.”

“Larissa tells me that Sharlene loves these kids.”

“That’s right. But she’d have to love me for it to work and she’s committed and grounded to that Honky Tonk,” Holt said.

“Can’t have it both ways, can you?” Hank asked.

Henry joined them at the fence. A tall, lanky man with silver hair and a long thin face that wrinkled even more when he smiled, he perched a leg up on the bottom rail and asked, “What’s happening here today? You didn’t tell me and Oma you were havin’ company. She’ll be upset with you because she didn’t have time to make a big meal.”

“That’s the reason I didn’t tell her. She works too hard and we decided we’d grill some hot dogs at supper and throw some chips on the table. It was impromptu, Dad. Larissa was pouting because she hadn’t seen Sharlene in three weeks. So I called and talked her into coming out here and bringing the kids,” Hank explained.

“Oma might let you get by with it this time but you’d better be careful of trying it again,” Henry said. “So how are things with you, Holt?”

“Just fine. Is Oma your wife?”

“Oh, no! She’s my housekeeper, cook, and secretary all rolled into one. At least she was until last year when Larissa came to the ranch. Now she does a lot of cooking but Larissa has taken over the office work. She keeps threatening to go live with her sister in Arizona but I don’t think it’ll ever happen. She’s been on this ranch since I was a boy. It’d take a stick of dynamite to blow her off it, especially since Ruby was born,” Henry said.

“I see,” Holt said.

“I hear you are putting a room on Merle’s house. How’s that going?” Henry asked.

“Coming right along. We got it in the dry, thank goodness. I hear it’s going to rain all next week,” Holt answered.

He would have far rather been sitting beside Sharlene in one of those white rockers on the porch. She looked so cute with that baby in her arms. He wondered what their child would look like. Would it have her kinky red hair and green eyes or his looks? Would it be a girl who talked too much like Judd or a quiet little boy?

Hell, it’d probably be a red-haired boy with a temper from hell and that could put a politician to shame with his words. He’d most likely be on a soapbox about something from the hour after he was born and raise hell until the day he died.

“…need the rain but then ranchers never turn down a good shower, do we, son?” Henry was saying when Holt tuned back into the conversation.

“What is Holt’s bane is our good fortune, I’m afraid,” Hank said.

“Well, you two discuss the weather, politics, and women and I’m going to go hitch up the goat cart and let the kids have a ride. We don’t get them out here nearly often enough. I can’t wait until there’s a dozen that live on this ranch all the time,” Henry said.

“You better keep dreaming. Larissa says no more than four and maybe only two,” Hank said.

“I’ll take what I can get and be happy. Maybe we can talk Holt out of his two,” Henry threw over his shoulder as he made his way back to the goat pen.

“Goat cart?” Holt asked.

“He’s made a small box with wheels that’ll hold two children. He harnesses up a couple of good sized goats to it and leads them around the ranch with the kids in the cart. They won’t get hurt, I promise,” Hank said.

“I’m not afraid of that. I’m just thinking about listening to them try to con me into a couple of goats all the way home,” Holt laughed.

Hank changed the subject abruptly. “You and Sharlene likely to become anything more than friends? Sorry, but if I don’t ask, then Larissa is going to throw a fit after y’all leave. Sharlene is her best friend and she’s trying to play matchmaker.”

“Probably not.”

“Why’s that?”

“She’s a bartender. I want my kids to have a better role model than that.”

“Wouldn’t anyone love them any more than she does. Larissa says they love her and Judd is praying over her food that you like her,” Hank said.

“Answer is still no,” Holt said.

“Okay, fair enough. Let’s go get out the four wheelers while Dad is giving the kids a goat cart ride and we’ll ride down to the back of the ranch and do some target shooting. I got a tree stand down there and a bull’s-eye set up on a big round bale of hay,” Hank said.

“Sounds good to me,” Holt told him.

***

Judd and Waylon bounced around as much as the seat belts would allow in the backseat of the truck.

“But Uncle Holt, we’ll feed the goats and we’ll make sure they have water,” Waylon said.

“And I won’t beg to bring them inside the house when it rains or snows. Henry says that they have fur and can stay outside and we can built them a little barn with our jungle gym wood when we tear it down out behind the Tonk and put some hay in it and they might even have babies someday,” Judd begged.

“One final time, kids. No goats!” Holt declared. He’d listened to nothing but goats since Henry gave them a ride in the cart. They could hardly eat their hot dogs at supper for begging for two baby goats. According to them they wouldn’t even ask for a Christmas present if they could have two goats.

Judd exhaled loudly and crossed her arms over her chest. Waylon set his jaw and stared out the side window.

“Okay, then, if I can’t have a goat can I have anything else I want for Christmas?” Judd asked.

“You’re not having a cow or a chicken or even a cat. We’ll probably move after this school year and I’m not moving animals or listening to you whine when we have to take them to the shelter or out to Luther’s farm,” he said.

“But I can have what else I want?” Judd asked.

“Maybe you’d better tell me what you’re trying to make me promise before I say no to everything for Christmas,” Holt said.

Judd leaned over and whispered in Waylon’s ear.

“Uh oh! They’re going to do the gang-up-on-uncle trick and ask for the same thing then whine and beg until I can’t take it anymore,” Holt said.

Sharlene laughed. “Perfectly normal, I’d say.”

“We made up our minds and we want the same thing,” Waylon said.

“You can want the moon but that doesn’t mean I’ll lasso it and pull it down here for you,” Holt said.

“Yuk! We don’t want a smelly old moon,” Judd told him.

“Why would the moon be smelly?” Sharlene asked.

“Sharlene! It’s made out of that cheese that’s got big old chunks of blue stuff in it. And that kind of cheese stinks. We don’t want the moon, Uncle Holt. Guess what we want?”

He played along. “How many guesses do I get?”

“Three!” Waylon held up his fingers.

“Okay, Sharlene, help me. What is it that these two children want together when all they do is argue?”

“A swing set in their backyard?” Sharlene asked.

They both giggled and Waylon put down one finger.

BOOK: Honky Tonk Christmas
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