Sweet Vidalia Brand (3 page)

The main entrance was no longer where it had been or it would’ve been in front her nose. She shone the light up and down the siding, and realized by its gleam that it wasn’t wood at all. It was some kind of plastic made to look like slab wood. Didn’t that just figure? Make believe wood for a make believe saloon, if her theory panned out.

She moved the flashlight further until it gleamed on a great big window a few feet away. So she edged that way, thinking that from the outside she must look like a giant tick on a barn-sized hound dog.

There, now she was in front of the big window. She cupped her hands around either side of her face and tried to see inside, then had to cup the flashlight in one fist and press it flush against the glass to light the inside a little bit. But its beam didn’t go far enough.

She was frowning, squinting, and frustrated, when she heard the distinct sound of a shotgun working a shell into the chamber. Pump-action, if she wasn’t mistaken. And she wasn’t.

“All right, Mister, I’ve got you in my sights,” Bobby said. “You come on out from behind that canvas nice and slow. And put your hands up just as quick as you can manage. Understood?”

“Yeah,” she said. And she didn’t waste a lot of time obeying.

She lifted the tarp and poked her head out from underneath it, and before she even got upright, was blinded by a flashlight beam.

“Vidalia? Is that you?”

She pressed her lips. “Yeah, Bobby, it’s me. Put the light down, will you? Shotgun too, if the barrel’s still pointed my way.”

“Son of a–”

“Watch the language, Bobby.”

The flashlight moved away, but the damage was done. She was blinking like a mole as his long, tall silhouette strode across the street toward her. Bastard was wearing a duster, of all things. A duster and that Stetson from earlier. He couldn’t have a little mercy? She was ashamed but wasn’t about to hang her head because of it. God knew she’d done worse things. That was the problem.

She kept her chin high, looked him right in the eyes when she could finally see them.

“You care to tell me what you’re doin’, sneakin’ around my place in the middle of the night, Vidalia?”

He’d never called her Vi. Always Vidalia. She’d loved that about him. “You just answered your own question.”

“Huh?” The light came up again. She blocked her eyes with a hand and he lowered it.

“What am I doin’? I’m sneaking around your place in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

She shrugged. “I figured out what you were up to as soon as you left the Corral and my head stopped spinning.”

His even, white smile appeared so suddenly she thought he’d turned the flashlight back on. “I made your head spin?”

“Don’t change the subject. I know what you’re up to, Bobby. I just came out here to make sure. Figured I should give you the benefit of the doubt till I’d seen proof.”

“So this is you giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

She nodded, standing her ground. Her ridiculous-sounding, but utterly true ground.

“You could’ve just asked me what I was doing in town, you know.”

“I asked you. Twice. You gave me a non-answer both times.” She shrugged and reached the spot where he stood, looking up into the rain and into his eyes.

He took off his Stetson and put it on her head. “Ask me again.”

“What are you doing in town?”

He took his time about looking at her face before he finally nodded, twice, slow. “Didn’t you see?”

“Nope. You started bellering at me just as I got a good look through that window. Scared me so bad I almost dropped my flashlight.” She looked at him, looked close, just as he’d done to her. Her eyes had finally adjusted, so she could see the cut of his jaw. It was a really nice jaw, wide and square, although at the moment it was set a little tightly for her taste.

“Can I buy you a drink, Vidalia Brand?”

“Corral’s closed.”

“I know.” He took her by the elbow and led her toward the front of the place. Then he unzipped a doorway in the canvas and led her through, and then through a great big set of double arching doors behind it.

The entryway was huge, with coatracks and benches, and dead center, a set of batwing doors that put her own to shame, their wood all tooled and then the cuts painted gold. Some would call it elaborate. She would call it gaudy.

That was when she knew she’d been right. And he left her for a moment, and went through them. Flipping a switch, he flooded the place with light.

Vidalia pushed through the swinging doors and took a long, slow look around. There were round tables, antiqued to look old. There were chandeliers made out of elk racks. There was a three sided hardwood bar three times as long as the one in the OK Corral, with high standing saddle shaped seats all the way around. It was backed by a mirror the entire length of it, behind racks and shelves for bottles and glasses and pitchers. There was a pizza slice shaped stage at the front right corner of the place, a dance floor the size of a basketball court. Half of one anyway. And the coolest mechanical bull over in the corner.

And beside the stage, a player piano. It looked like an antique, not a replica. Wow.

She didn’t know whether to tell him how amazing the place was or kick the man where he would know he’d been kicked.

Instead, she turned and looked up and right into his eyes, put her hands on her hips and tapped one foot, awaiting his explanation.

Bobby couldn’t think straight with Vidalia’s big brown eyes looking up into his. Her expression was probably supposed to be fierce, but all he wanted to do was kiss it right off her pretty face. God, he’d missed her, ached for her, though he’d buried it so deep it had just become a vague sense of dissatisfaction with everything in his life. His marriage, his sons, his wealth. No matter how much he did, it was never enough to fill the hole she’d left in his heart.

“It’s...a saloon,” he said.

“I can
see
it’s a saloon,” she replied. “Of sorts.”

“I’m calling it The Long Branch.”

“No one under fifty even remembers
Gunsmoke
anymore, Bobby.”

“That makes it even better. A little obscure. The kind of thing the kids will Google.”

“It’s a second saloon in a one-saloon town. You came here to put me out of business.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Hell, come ‘ere.” He walked her across the big dance floor toward the stage. There were red velvet curtains on either side of it, held back by golden cords. “The OK Corral is a place for the locals, where they can relax and drink and get some bar food at great prices. You agree with that description?”

She pursed her lips, lowered her head, saying nothing, not giving him an inch.

“The Long Branch is more of a tourist attraction.”

“We don’t have tourism in Big Falls. Has it really been so long you don’t know that?”

“They have tourism in Tucker Lake, and that’s only a few miles east. And there are a half dozen Ghost Towns within a seventy-mile radius, all of them doing steady business. This is gonna become a regular stop for those same tourists. It’ll bring business to everyone in Big Falls, you included. We’re gonna have floor shows, waitresses dressed as saloon girls. Every now and then we’ll have some actors come in and shoot the place up, then be rounded up and arrested by a Marshall Dillon type. Lots of special effects to make it seem real. You know how some places do mystery dinners? We’ll be doing Dime Novel dinners. And I mean full dinners, with a well-staffed kitchen and one of the best chefs in the state. Here, take a look at the menu.” He took hold of her arm, but she tugged it away as he led her back to the bar. He walked around behind it, plucked a menu from a stack, and set it, open, in front of her.

She sighed, but slid up onto a saddle shaped barstool and looked down at the menu. Then she blinked slow and looked up at him again. “I can’t really–”

“Here. Use mine.” He’d already had his bifocals in hand, and he set them on top of the menu.

She picked them up, red in the cheeks—which was a good look on her, he thought. Then she put them on and looked at the menu. He did too. And he didn’t need his glasses, because he knew it by heart. Cowboy burgers. Six-gun steaks. Great big racks of ribs with the sweetest, tangiest barbeque sauce he’d ever tasted. Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes and gravy. It was old fashioned food, stick to the ribs food. Cowboy food. Food they didn’t serve far and wide anymore. But prepared by a gourmet chef with prices befitting his skill.

She shifted her eyes a little, then they widened. “Your prices are on the uppity side, don’t you think?”

“Like I said, I’m not trying to compete with you. The floor show’s free. But we gotta cover expenses.”

She closed the menu, slid it back across the bar to him. “Still and all, it doesn’t change what you did. You flattered me. Turned my head, to be honest. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m not in the habit of ducking the truth. I was feeling giddy as a school girl when you gave me those cow eyes and pretended you’d been missing me all these years. But it was just some two bit, side-winding dirty trick.” She slid off the stool. It was a little drop to the floor, but she managed to make it with dignity.

“Um, you shot me down, Vidalia.”

“Well what earthly difference does
that
make?”

She started walking toward the front door.

Thinking fast, Bobby grabbed the remote from its holster on the inside edge of the bar, aimed and fired. The lights dropped down low, the bulbs taking on a flickering quality, like gas lamps. She stopped walking, looking around in surprise. He hit another button and music came up—Conway and Loretta singing
Lead Me On
. And Vidalia turned toward him with a “You don’t think that’s gonna work, do you?” expression on her pretty face.

He jumped up onto the bar, sliding on his denim clad backside right across it, and jumping clean off the other side. Then he strode right up to her, slid one arm around her waist, and clasped her hand in the other one.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She didn’t pull away.

“Aside from pulling a hamstring with that bar-jumping thing I just did to impress you, you mean?”

She tried not to smile. She was fighting it with everything in her. “Yeah, aside from that.”

“I’m testing out my new dance floor.” He nudged her into motion, and she fell right into step with him, following his steps without a single falter. So he got a little fancy, giving her a spin, followed by a dip, then pulling her back up again and holding her a little closer than before.

She laughed when he did that. Tipped her head back and laughed, and when she brought her eyes to his again, he got stuck there. This was magical, what was sparkling between the two of them, he thought. It was just like that night so long ago.

And then he remembered his situation. This wasn’t fair to her.

The song ended, and he let her go. “I’m real sorry I offended you, Vidalia. And I admit, I did walk into the Corral with the intention of asking for your advice and assistance with this new venture of mine. But the minute I saw you again, it wasn’t business at all anymore.”

She lowered her head, and he couldn’t tell in the dim light, but he thought she was thinking.

“Your dance floor works just fine,” she said at length. “I can’t remember the last time I waltzed around a barroom.”

“I remember the last time I did,” he said. “With you, in the Corral. To that same song.”

She shot him a look and he knew she remembered as well as he did. Maybe she was surprised that he did, though.

His conscience pricked him, reminding him to be careful. It wouldn’t be fair to lead her on. To let her see how much he wanted to pull her close and dance another round. Or two. Or all night long.

“I wish you good luck with the, uh, The Long Branch.” She looked at his face for a long time. “You’re a charmer, Bobby Joe McIntyre. But it didn’t work.”

“It didn’t?”

“No. I’m gonna do everything I can do to put you out of business. Because the OK Corral is my baby. The only one that didn’t grow up and leave the nest. She’s all I’ve got in the world right now, and I’m not about to let you come waltzing into town and ruin her.”

“I don’t want to ruin the Corral, Vidalia.”

“This is a one-saloon town. I’m gonna make sure that one saloon is always the OK Corral.”

He lowered his head. “All right then. If that’s how it has to be.”

“That’s how it is.” She nodded once and started for the door.

“Thanks for the dance,” he called after her.

“You’re welcome.” She reached the batwing doors, pushed through them, stopped on the other side, and looked back at him. “So, um...you want to get together for lunch tomorrow?”

He smiled real slow. “You’re damn straight I do.”

She smiled back at him. Damn, she was one Class-A beauty when she smiled. Then she turned and walked out the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he thought he was doing.

“I’ve been so busy with life lately, Mom. The twins and Caleb and all. I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

Vidalia raised her eyebrows at her eldest daughter and continued sipping coffee from her favorite mug. It had a sexy cowboy on it, whose shirt vanished as the coffee level went down. Melusine had bought it for her last Christmas as part of the girls’ ongoing, good natured battle over who could get their mother the best present. Of course, Maya had won by delivering the twins on Christmas four years ago, and then Kara had tied her by bringing little Tyler into the family two Christmasses later. But Vidalia didn’t mind that they all kept trying. Mel’s mug certainly made the morning cuppa more interesting, and as a bonus, it discouraged that second cup Vidalia probably shouldn’t have. After all, you didn’t want to put the cowboy’s shirt back
on
.