Rodeo Blues (2 page)

"I've been craving one of those. You truly
are a psychic."

"It's what I've been tellin' you all along.
I'm a descendant of the druids."

"Shouldn't it be gypsies?"

"Druids have the cornerstone on being one
with the universe. Um… I smell coffee." She dropped her things on
the counter as she came around to help herself to a mocha latte
with extra sugar by pushing the handy-dandy button on the machine.
"You going to Big Bob's Saloon tonight?" Whisper asked. "It's
Thursday, ladies' night, and all those yummy cowboys will be
rolling in for the Cowboy Christmas in July Rodeo."

The machine hissed and spit then poured. The
aroma of coffee once again scented the air.

"I don't think so," Jolie said and hoped
Whisper wouldn't push. She didn't much care to sit around and drink
the night away, and she wasn't looking for a guy who thought
ladies' night was a great way to find their next conquest. No,
she'd much rather go home, grab a beer from the fridge and read a
good book. Peace and quiet proved a nice break after a long day of
customers, ringing phones and constant chatter.

For a long few seconds, Whisper sipped her
heavily sugared coffee drink and stared at Jolie over the rim of
her mug.

"What?" Jolie lifted her eyebrows,
challenging Whisper to say something. She didn't disappoint
her.

"I've been wondering what's wrong with you?
You have a figure I would die to have and you have a head full of
the most beautiful mahogany hair, which I can't seem to find in a
box, but here you sit night after night—alone, I might add."

"What are you talking about?"

"When's the last time you've been out on a
date, Miss Jolie Lockhart? Hmm?"

"I date," she said and hated how she sounded
as if she needed to defend herself.

"Not from where I'm standing. Didn't Jhett
Reeves come by a few days ago and ask you out?"

Jolie wrinkled her nose. Jhett had been
asking her out off and on again for years. The answer was still no.
Though good-looking and from a good family, the man had nothing
else going for him, especially in the personality department. He'd
been a jock in high school, great at all the sports, but socially
he lacked any finesse. Even his buddies he hung out with back then
had moved on, or rather they'd matured into adults, whereas Jhett
hadn't progressed from his teenage bullying years. "Jhett," she
said, "can't put two words together let alone a full sentence
without a reference to how wonderful he is. What are we going to
talk about when he's through telling me about all his wonderful
attributes?"

Whisper shook her head. "Honey, you're
missing the whole picture here. Jhett with his blond hair and quick
smile has a body a woman can hold onto and never get enough. What
do you need to talk for? One kiss from you and I assure you, he'll
quit talkin' and give you what you really need."

"Then you go out with him. 'Cause I'm not
interested in anything Jhett has to offer."

Despite her opinions of Jhett, he was a
sought after bachelor of Skeeter Blue. He co-owned Reeves
Construction with his daddy, though lately there'd been rumors
regarding the business. They'd run into some snags, lost a big
contract with a company in Austin, and with the economy in such a
pickle, it was no wonder they had some rocky times.

"Nah," Whisper said with a wave of her hand.
"I'm not looking for anything more serious than a few dates and
that man is looking to hook someone into being his wife. I want
good times, and with the rodeo week about to be in full swing, I'm
sure to rope me a cowboy."

Whisper stood five-foot eleven with a slim
figure, and the biggest green eyes she'd ever seen, and her long
lashes were all hers. She only had to bat them a few times before
men flocked to her side. Stray dogs and cats weren't the only ones
she picked up and brought home.

"As long as you're careful," she reminded
Whisper. "You do realize these men are only after one thing…"

"Yeah." She winked. "Me too."

"You're incorrigible."

"So my mama's told me." She sighed without a
tad of remorse. She placed her coffee mug on the counter. "Do you
know what I'm going to do?"

"I'm afraid to ask," Jolie said as she
reached for the chalkboard sign and jotted down the specialty
drinks of the day.

"I'm going to do your chart," Whisper
continued. "We're going to find out where that man of yours is
hiding."

"I'm not looking for a man." She held the
sign out in front of her for inspection.

"Well you should be. It's not right for a
healthy, good looking woman to go home every night alone."

"I like my solitude."

Whisper rolled her eyes. "Nobody likes it
that much. I'll tell you what: I'll pack up Lulu and drop her off
at your place so you won't be alone."

"Who?" She glanced over her shoulder as she
hung the chalkboard on the wall.

"You know, that cute little kitten I
found—"

Her gaze riveted to Whisper. "Don't you dare.
No animals. I mean it."

"Fine. Then you meet me at Big Bob's Saloon
tonight."

"I don't—"

"Lulu will love your house. All that purdy
furniture… Mmm-humm, she's just itchin' to get her claws a good
scratch."

Jolie held up her hand. "Fine. Whatever. I'll
meet you at Big Bob's Saloon for one drink."

Whisper's mouth curved into a wicked
smile.

"And wipe that grin off your face. I'm
meeting you, but it doesn't mean I'm picking up some guy. I'll
leave the strays for you,
thank-you-very-much
."

"There's a storm brewing, Jolie Lockhart, and
the man of your dreams will be riding in on it. I've seen it in the
cards."

Jolie glanced heavenward with a silent prayer
for patience where Whisper was concerned. "I've never sat down for
a reading with you."

"No, but you're a good friend. Of course, I'm
going to look out for you." She sipped more of her coffee then
reached for her bag to retrieve her pastry.

Jolie sighed, not bothering to explain to
Whisper for the umpteenth time that there was no man of her dreams.
The man she had loved with all her heart left town a long time ago.
She'd moved on since then, but she'd yet to find anyone else who'd
captured her heart in the way he had. Storm or not, she doubted it
would bring anything more than a good downpour.

Chapter Three

Tye checked into The Stagecoach Hotel off the
interstate to wash up and relax after his long haul. A little after
five, decked out in his Wrangler jeans, black T-shirt, cowboy hat,
and tobacco tanned ostrich boots, he headed into town and made his
way to Main Street.

He parked the truck in the lot and strolled
over to the entrance of Big Bob's Saloon. The neon sign, with a
cowpoke kicking his spurs together and waving his hat, stood over
the entrance as a welcome to the establishment. He wondered who
would be there tonight, and how they would respond to his return.
He hadn't really kept in touch with anyone in Skeeter Blue. He'd
never been any good at writing, or picking up a phone, for that
matter.

As he approached, he spotted a familiar face
working the front door. "Hey Sam," he said with a grin, "haven't
they hauled your ol' carcass out of here yet?"

The old man turned toward him. He gave him a
once over and for a moment he didn't think Sam recognized him, but
then a smile creased his lips. "Well, I'll be damned. Look what the
cat dragged in." He rose from his stool and held out his hand. "Tye
Casper, when did you roll into town?"

Sam Miller had worked the door at the saloon
since as long as he could remember, checking IDs and greeting the
clientele. He thought Sam was old when he was in high school. He
had to be pushing eighty now. He was tall and thick in the middle,
bald, and he sported a thick mustache.

"This afternoon." He took Sam's hand in a
firm shake. "Came in with the rodeo crew."

"Haven't you broken enough bones yet?" he
asked with a chuckle.

"Nah, I'm sure there's a few I've missed.
How's that sweet wife of yours doing?"

"Cathy's good and ornery as ever. That's why
I love her so much. She keeps me in line." His smiled dropped then
and he turned serious. "I know it's been a few years, but I was
sorry to hear about your daddy's passing."

"We were never close."

"Still, it's not easy…" He shook his head.
"Heard someone took over your old homestead. Put up one of those
oil drills." Sam met his gaze with meaning. "Looks like they're
building a big fancy house too. Looks near to done, but whoever's
going to live there has been all mysterious, and this here is a
small town. Seems like we should know our neighbor, don't you
think?"

Growing up, Tye and his father had been
poorer than spit, but his old man hadn't wanted to sell the land or
listen to the prospectors that had insisted there was oil there.
Stubborn fool had died in a tin can called a home with no more than
twenty dollars in his pocket. There were commercials with:
This is your brain on drugs
… There should
be one for:
This is your brain floating in a
bottle of scotch
.

"Guess someone finally got smart and put the
land to good use," Tye said. He gave Sam a smile and the man pursed
his lips in disappointment. Tye wasn't one to gossip and he didn't
see the point in starting now. Everyone in Skeeter Blue would know
soon enough who their new neighbor was going to be.

"Been by to see the boys yet?" Sam asked.
"They'd sure be glad to see you."

The boys were Sonny Norton, Mike Tethers, and
Jimmy Burns. In high school they had formed a band, thought they
were going to make it big. They were talented, but there were
others that were more so. "Haven't seen them yet," he told Sam. The
old man thought they'd be happy to see him, but Tye wasn't so
sure.

He spoke to Jimmy maybe five years ago. Jimmy
had hunted him down when his father had been rushed to the hospital
after collapsing at Big Bob's Saloon. He politely thanked Jimmy for
the news, but he didn't head home. His father died eight months
later from liver failure. He was actually surprised it took so long
for the organ to give up.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to
think of a way to ask the question weighing most on his mind.

Sam lips twitched. "You didn't ask how Jolie
Lockhart's been," Sam said.

Tye tipped back his hat. "I was getting to
it." When Sam didn't say more, he did the asking. The old coot
wasn't going to let him off easy, most likely payback for not
saying who bought his father's place. "Soooo, how's Jolie been?" he
asked.

"Hmm. Jolie Lockhart… Now she's a girl a guy
should hold onto." He stared at Tye over the top of his
black-rimmed glasses, dropping a hint that was anything but
subtle.

Tye cleared his throat. "Sam, she isn't … you
know involved with anyone is she?" His cousin told him she wasn't
seeing anyone, but that had been a few months ago. Things could
have changed since then.

"Didn't no one tell you, boy? She's married
and has six kids."

"What?" He swallowed back the panic. Had his
cousin looked into the whereabouts of the wrong girl? "Six
children? Jolie's married…?" Of course she'd be married if she had
six children.

Sam chuckled and his gaze riveted to the old
man. Then he knew the truth.

"Oh, you're funny, old man."

"Just wanted to get a rile outta you. Still
carrying a flame for the purdy gal, are you?"

"A torch, if you must know."

Sam let out a low whistle. "You better be
doing some fancy talking 'cause you hurt that little gal when you
left her at the altar."

He could argue he didn't technically leave
her at the altar, but this was a small town. They'd been dating for
a long time and everyone would have expected them to tie the knot
sooner or later. It had been the plan, but it hadn't worked out in
the end.

"You might be safer tackling a bull than with
her," Sam said as he eyed him with a keen eye.

"Yeah, done that and I'm still standing."

"Good thing, but if you don't mind I'll lay
my odds on Jolie."

"Thanks for the confidence." He flicked the
rim of his hat and nodded. "I'll catch you later, Sam."

"Later, boy. I hope you're still standing
after the count."

Tye waved his hand over his shoulder as he
entered the saloon.

Some things never changed. Big Bob's Saloon
was one of them with its oversized dance floor and long bar with a
mirror hanging on the wall overlooking the rows of bottles of
liquor. Thursdays were 'ladies' night' when he'd left town and it
seemed it still held the spot. The place swarmed with eligible
women of all ages and just enough men to make it interesting. He'd
bet there were people in the back room shooting pool too.