Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 04 - Saddle Up (9 page)

“How do I get there?” I asked.

“Go another block, turn left and then go four blocks. It’s a big yellow house.”

“Thanks,” I told her.

“I’m sorry again for the computer problem.”

“That’s okay. At least I have a place to stay.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve met Sheryl Ann,” the clerk muttered as I went out the door.

What did she mean by that?
I wondered.

CHAPTER 9

I followed the clerk’s directions and arrived at a two-story yellow house. I parked next to a black truck with massive wheels, maybe three feet tall, chrome running boards, and a rubber bag that looked like testicles hanging off its hitch. I always wondered what kind of man needs a vehicle with tires that huge. Was he showing off, part of the Monster Truck games I once saw on television, or compensating for some shortcoming?

I pulled my bag from the car and walked toward the front door. A white wooden porch encircled the house and the six pots on the front porch had plastic flowers in them. An obvious attempt to spruce the place up had fallen short since I could still see the price tags wrapped around each flower’s stem. I had never stayed at a boarding house. Did you just walk in or knock?

Before I could make a decision, a woman in a yellow flowered dress swung open the door and engulfed me in her arms. Okay, I have no problems with people hugging me, no issue with personal space, and children hug me all the time, but this woman was a total stranger.

She squeezed me tight, then said, “Welcome to my house.”

“Thanks,” I squeaked out.

“Oh, sorry,” she released me and snickered, her face lit with a huge smile. “I am just so happy to have another woman in the house.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve got five rooms and three of them are filled with cowboys. It’s not that I don’t like to look at a fine cowboy’s ass, but after you’ve seen them for four days in a row, even I get tired of tight wranglers and dusty boots.”

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Sheryl Ann.”

I shook her hand and said, “Liza Wilcox.”

I picked up my bag.

“No, let Stan get it. It’s his only job.”

I set the bag back down. “Okay. Who’s Stan?”

“Stan is my brother’s boy. He’s not too bright, but he’ll do anything you tell him to do.” She turned toward the house and yelled, “Stan!”

A huge young man came lumbering out the door. He had the distinct look and smiling face of a Down syndrome child. “Yes, Auntie Sheryl?”

“Would you please take Liza’s bag up to the blue room?”

His face broke out into a huge smile. “Hi, Liza.”

“Hi, Stan. Thanks for taking my bag.”

“That’s my job,” Stan said and nodded.

He grabbed my bag and skipped back into the house. He had to be over six feet tall and at least two-hundred and fifty pounds. Seeing him skip was kind of eerie.

“He’s a good kid,” Sheryl Ann said as she leaned against the door frame.

“The clerk down at the motel didn’t say how much the rooms are here.”

“That depends,” she said.

“On what?” My heart stopped.
Am I going to have to clean my room or have other chores?
How exactly does a boarding house work?
I wondered.

“Do you want just room or room and board?”

“You cook for us?” I asked. My eyes shot open in surprise and anticipation.

“I make breakfast and dinner. You’re on your own for lunch.”

My heart took off in elation! “I’ll take it.”

“You haven’t heard the price,” she said, frowning.

“If you’re cooking, I’m staying.”

Sheryl Ann laughed, it was rich and full. She put her arm around my shoulder and said, “We’re going to get along just fine because I like to cook for people who appreciate my cooking.”

I let her lead me into the house. Again, like the town, the foyer wasn’t new but it was clean and the bookcase was decorated with family photographs, old books, and a few trophies.

When she saw me looking at the trophies, she said, “Those were my son’s. He was a crack shot, won all the contests around here.”

“Does he still live with you?”

“No, he passed away a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I told her and I meant every word. I know how I felt when I thought I had lost my mom and dad. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a child.

“Thanks,” she said.

The living room to the right of the foyer was filled with overstuffed furniture and four men, each dressed in jeans, t-shirts, and boots, were watching a small television set.

“Barry!” Sheryl Ann yelled.

A young man immediately pulled his feet off the coffee table without taking his eyes off the set.

“Boys.” She shook her head and led me up the stairs. “Your room is the last on the right. There are two bathrooms that the boys share. You can use mine. My room is on the left across from yours.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t like sharing my bathroom with Tom, let alone a bunch of men I didn’t know.

“When does your man get here?” Sheryl Ann asked.

“Hopefully tonight.”

“He’s got to share with the boys. I don’t want any man in my bathroom.”

“That’s okay. He’ll be fine with it.” At least I hoped so.

She took me down the hallway and opened the door. The room smelled fresh and was bright from the light streaming in from two open windows. The blue checkered curtains went beautifully with the hand-quilted blue bedspread on the queen sized bed. What had the clerk at the inn been talking about? Sheryl Ann was vivacious, although she might be overpowering to some, my room was spacious and beautifully decorated and it came with food. My bag sat next to a rocking chair nestled under the windows.

“This is lovely,” I told her.

“Thanks. I made the quilt myself and the curtains. I’m pretty handy around a sewing machine, but not so much in the garden. You noticed my flowers on the front porch.”

“Hey, I’ve got a black thumb myself. No matter what I get – I kill it!”

Sheryl Ann laughed. “Breakfast is over and dinner won’t be until six. You want me to see if I can find you something in the kitchen to eat?”

“No, I think I’ll take a walk. I’ve been sitting in a car for a while,” I said, anxious to start my investigation.

“The café has good burgers but stay away from the burrito shop unless you like things fiery hot.”

“And the bar?”

“The RD has great steaks. The owner has his own herd and the meat is tender and juicy.”

“Thanks.” My stomach growled in anticipation.

Sheryl Ann frowned. “I wouldn’t go in there without your man.”

“Why?”

“The drinks are strong and the men get a little out of hand. It’s the best place for a fight in the town, especially when the rodeo boys are here.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Sheryl Ann nodded.

The weather was warmer in Ridgedale than San Ramon, so I changed out of my heavy sweater and put on a tank top and light sweater with my jeans. I grabbed my purse and went in search of food.

I passed three men as they walked up the stairs. They all nodded their heads at me – very polite. I glanced back and knew exactly what Sheryl Ann was talking about. Rodeo cowboys were built very well.

Since the whole town was only six blocks long, I decided to walk over to the café and get a burger. The crowd I saw earlier outside was gone, so hopefully the wait wouldn’t be too long.

When I walked into the café, a harried looking hostess wearing jeans, red and white checkered shirt and a red cowboy hat said, “How many?”

“Just one,” I told her.

She looked around and said, “I’ve got one at the counter if you want to eat now. If you want to wait for a table or booth, it will be ten or fifteen minutes.”

“The counter is fine.”

The hostess handed me a menu and pointed to the only seat open on a long counter that spanned the right side of the café. The rest of the room was filled with booths in dark brown leather and a few tables. Some of the tables had extra chairs pulled up. I would bet a month’s salary that this place was way over their maximum capacity level.

I slid onto the stool between two burly cowboys. They turned to me, nodded and then went back to devouring the huge burger that sat on each of their plates along with a mountain-size helping of French fries. It was enough to feed a family of four.

A waitress dressed like the hostess but in blue came over to me. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Diet Coke.” I nodded toward the two plates. “Do you have smaller burgers?’

She laughed and patted both men’s arms. “Those are special burger lunches for rodeo boys.”

The cowboy on the right said, “Oh, Tammy. You know we work hard and have to keep up our strength.”

“Riley, you’re a pick-up man. You sit on a horse all day.”

When she left, I turned to Riley and said, “What’s a pick-up man?”

Riley turned his attention to me. He was in his early twenties, with broad shoulders, tanned arms, brown hair that looked like it spent all day under his cowboy hat that sat on the counter next to him, and a round face with deep brown eyes. “I help the bareback and saddle-bronc riders dismount from their stock.”

“My name is Liza and this is my first rodeo, so can you explain what you just said?”

Riley’s face broke into a huge smile. “I’d love to, little lady. Bareback and saddle bronc riding are two events at the rodeo. The boys ride either with or without a saddle on the horse.”

“What kind of event is that? Isn’t it kind of boring?”

Riley laughed. “These horses are not broken and they buck and try like hell to get the rider off.”

“Oh,” I said.

“If they make it to their eight seconds, I help them off the horse.”

“Eight seconds?”

“That’s how long they have to stay on the horse to qualify as a good ride.”

Tammy came back and asked, “You know what you want or is this guy talking your ear off?”

“No, he was explaining to me about rodeos. I’d like a bacon cheeseburger and fries.”

She took the menu and smiled. “You got it. Riley’s an okay guy, just watch his hands. He likes to put them places they don’t belong.”

“Oh, Tammy,” Riley said, blushing.

Considering I was close to ten years older than Riley, there wasn’t any chance of him wanting to put those wandering hands on me, but it was kind of fun for her to say and for him to blush.

I put my hand on his arm. “Don’t let her tease you, Riley.”

“Ah, Tammy’s okay.” He nodded toward the cowboy on my left. “She’s in love with Davis.”

Davis turned and frowned at Riley. He was older, taller and leaner than Riley, but still tanned like he spent his life in the outdoors. “She is not.”

“Yes she is. I see the way she looks at you, man. She’s got the hots for you.” Riley winked at me, then turned his attention back to his burger.

Tammy brought my cheeseburger a few minutes later. It was a fourth of the size of the cowboy’s and perfect for me.

When she brought dessert for both men, I gasped. Each had a fourth of an apple pie covered with melting vanilla ice cream.

“I should have started with the pie.” I grinned. The dessert looked and smelled fabulous.

Riley and Davis laughed.

“Are you here with the rodeo?” I asked them as I loaded my plate with ketchup for my fries.

“No, we’re locals,” Davis said. “I’m a pretty good heeler, but not good enough for the circuit.”

“A heeler?”

“In the team-roping competition, two men on horseback chase a steer. The header ropes the steer around the horns, head, or neck. I rope the hind legs.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize rodeos had their own vocabulary.”

“Teacher?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“No one else calls what we say vocabulary,” Davis laughed.

“This is a nice town,” I said, taking a small bite of my cheeseburger. It was juicy and tasted fabulous.

Riley scoffed and said, “No, it’s a piss-ant town with no jobs and no future. If we didn’t have the rodeo, the entire place would dry up and blow away. We should sell and get out.”

Davis pointed to Riley. “We’ve got a big corporation that wants to buy the town and level it for a new highway. He’d like to see us sell. Me, I’ve lived here my whole life and I want to raise a family here.”

“I haven’t had a chance to see the entire town. Where is your school?”

“We’ve only got one. It goes from kindergarten to twelfth grade, but we’ve got great teachers and the kids pretty much get taught what they need to learn. So you might have a first grader practicing algebra and a sixth grader still trying to memorize his basic skills.”

“Every child has their own learning plan?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s great for the advanced kids and for the kids who need extra help, they get it. Each parent is required to work in the classroom twenty hours a year. It doesn’t sound like much but it sure helps.”

“I don’t see any big business in town, where does everybody work?” I took another bite of my cheeseburger, pretending that I was just making small talk rather than investigating the town.

“There’s a power plant north of the town, most have jobs there and then during the summer months the lagoon takes on extra help at the marina, store, and café. Mostly that’s taken by the high school kids.”