When You Fall... (24 page)

She pulled her car over to the side of the road to input Omelets, Inc. into Yelp, her app she used for finding places. A minute later it displayed the address, complete with reviews. Wasn’t technology wonderful? She was within 10 miles. It sat on the edge of town, not in Austin proper, but in one of those smaller suburbs just outside the Austin orbit.

Ten minutes later, she parked. The place was packed, if parking was any indication. The food must be good. It wasn’t that big of a place either, not much different in appearance from your ordinary IHop, which surprised her. She’d thought what? She thought maybe something more unique in its appearance, to match its unique name. Oh Well. She’d found a spot near the back and walked around to the front door.

She was greeted by a hostess upon entering, a young girl, who smiled at her.

“One?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Would you mind sitting in the back? We are still full from this morning.”

“Nope. Don’t mind at all,” she said, falling in behind the hostess as she moved, leading Carter through the restaurant.

“Carter!” she heard, turned and found the two sheriffs who had responded to her house that first night sitting in a booth.

“Want to join us?” one of them asked.

She smiled. “If you don’t mind, sure,” she said.

“That works for me,” the hostess said, stepping aside as Carter slid in to the booth. She placed a menu in front of her.

“I’m Garrett,” the officer sitting next to her said, extending his hand.

“Hi,” she said.

“I’m his older brother, Frank,” the officer seated across from him said. He was attractive. Both brothers were, actually; both gingers. The only feature that distinguished Garrett from his brother were his freckles.

“What’s good here?” she asked.

“Everything. And we are regulars, so we should know,” Garrett said, smiling.

“Okay, “ she said, perusing the menu. She decided on a ham and cheese omelet and laid her menu on the table.

“Heard you have what, five horses and one donkey now?” Garrett asked.

“Four horses, two donkey’s. How did you hear that?”

“We keep an ear open for all things local. Heard your family was serious about selling,” Frank said.

The waitress interrupted them, taking Carter’s order. The two brothers had already placed theirs.

“Why would you sell? People would kill for what you have,” Garrett said.

“I know. I spent my early years here. I loved living there as a kid. But life is different after you become an adult,” she said.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Rafael asked, surprising her. She caught a look that passed between him and Frank. He scooted in the empty seat next to Frank. He looked at her; some of last night’s frustration with her was still present in his eyes.

“Hungry. I thought I’d stop by and check out your eggs. Didn’t expect to see you, though,” she said.

“I had time this morning. This is the best I can do for company most days,” he said, his head pointing to the two officers.

“So how’s life on the ranch?” Garrett asked.

“Fine. Busy. I know how much Rafael has told you, but I’ve been filling in for our old property manager,” she said.

“He spent most of his time down at the Golden Shower Strip Club, one town over,” Garrett said.

“The rest of his time he spent down at the bar in town,” Frank said.

“Oh.”

“I’ve driven by your folks’ land often. I even accidently wound up there, dove hunting. Rafael came along to keep me company. Don’t know how that happened,” Frank said and smiled. His smile indicated that he knew exactly how that had happened. Dove hunting was a big deal to some in Texas. She smiled back.

“If it were me with all that property, I’d turned it into a dude ranch. People love to spend time on a ranch. Get some horses—you can get those cheap nowadays—and your house seems big enough to hold some folks. I’d put up a web site. You fix that extra stable you got on your land, and you could even take in some boarders to help pay for it,” Garrett said.

“Did Rafael tell you to say that?” she asked, smiling at him.

“No,” Garrett said, confusion on his face as he looked between them.

“I can see that you’ve really given some thought to it, that’s all I meant,” Carter said, smiling. “It’s a good idea, but I’m one of six girls and all but me want to sell. I don’t think I could stop them, even if I tried.”

“Yeah, but have you tried?” Rafael asked. He wasn’t smiling.

Talk about stubborn, she thought, covering her irritation with a laugh. “What’s it to you?” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s nothing to me. It’s what you want and love though, at least it’s what
you
say you want and love. From where I stand, it sounds like it’s all talk. Maybe you’re too afraid to try,” he said.

“How about we discuss it later?” she said. Luckily, their food had arrived.

“It bugs me to see people give up so easily on things that apparently mean so much to them,” Rafael continued, after the waitress had placed the food on the table and left.

“Okay. I know you mean well. I know why the twins stopped by, and you probably put Garrett up to talk to me too, so I’m not going to get angry with you or be offended by your tone. So why don’t we talk about something else,” she said, her eyes on his.

“There is no reason to argue about it. He didn’t talk to me. I was only making conversation,” Garrett said, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m always doing that—daydreaming—usually when I’m driving down the road. I’ll see something and take to daydreaming about it, wondering what I’d do in this situation or that,” he said.

“And we wouldn’t want our food to get cold,” Frank said, his eyes on Rafael, some silent form of communication passing between them.

It was silent as she ate and watched the three men polish off their food. In between bites they talked about the weather and the crime wave, or lack of it, in the county. She listened and made a few glances at Rafael while he ate.

“I’m stuffed, and I still have work to do,” Garrett said, pushing his plate forward 20 minutes later. That was good, as usual.”

“It was, and yes, we unfortunately do have to get back to work. It was nice seeing you again, Carter. So much better than that last time we met,” Frank said.

Their waitress was back, passing out their checks. They were instructed to pay at the register. Rafael took hers before she could accept it.

“I’ve got it. A late but official welcome to the neighborhood,” he said, sitting back, smiling that smug smile of his, the same one he’d worn when they’d first met. It was the smile that never reached his eyes. She had no idea what to make of him now.

“You all weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye,” a pretty petite brunette said, arriving at their table. An apron was covering her clothes. She smiled at the men like she knew them, before she smiled at Carter.

“Of course not,” Rafael said, his smile sexy now, dropping a little bit to one side, radiating confidence. He’d worn it for her often when they ended up together.

“Stacy, This is my new neighbor. The great Carter Woodson’s great-granddaughter, who is also named Carter Woodson. The one who gives up easy,” Rafael said.

Carter just glared at him.

“Nice meeting you,” Stacy said, an odd expression on her face as she gave Carter another quick scan.

“Frank and Garrett, it’s good to see you as always,” she said to the two sheriffs, accompanied with a smile. “I’ve got work to do in the back. Don’t be a stranger,” she said to Carter. “I need you in the back,” she said, looking at Rafael now.

Carter looked down at her silverware, anywhere other than at him and Stacy. The ease and familiarity of them made her uncomfortable. She looked up and caught Frank’s gaze. Was that pity she saw in his eyes?. She gave him a weak smile, not even wanting to think about what he knew about her and Rafael.

And really, she had no claim other than him being her first and current Mr. Bentley Now, which she initiated. And he was being a jerk, charging her up in front of everyone.

Carter stood and said goodbye to Frank and Garrett, who promised to stop by and check for burglars. They all laughed at that. She didn’t say goodbye to Rafael. He’d gotten called back into the kitchen; something about the egg order. Whatever.

#

“What was that about?” Frank asked ten minutes later. He and Rafael were standing outside of Omelets, Inc. He waited around, curious about his friend’s behavior. Carter was gone and so was his brother Garrett. Frank had waited in the parking lot until Rafael came out.

“She doesn’t want to sell the ranch,” Rafael said.

“I know, you’ve told me and as Carter so eloquently put it, what’s it to you?” Frank asked.

“She’s my friend and she doesn’t think she has a voice as far as her family’s concerned. I think she’s the problem. She’s not used to using her voice.”

“You seem to know her well.”

“I do. She was me before I stood up to my folks and charted my own course.”

“That worked well for you,” Frank said.

“I have my farm, so I did something right.”

“Maybe she’s not you— do what you want come hell or high water.”

“She doesn’t even try. I don’t understand that. I was trying to give her a little push, to challenge her, that’s all,” he said.

“You sure that’s all it is?”

“That’s all there is. She loves that ranch. I know that. Plus she has all these dreams for what to do with it. They are great ideas. You should hear them. They would work with some hard work and financing. I’m just trying to give her a push,” Rafael said.

“She didn’t seem to appreciate your push, so maybe you should let it go. People reach conclusions about their lives when they are ready to,” Frank said, looking at his friend. Rafael could be stubborn about things—that wife list and now it seemed, Carter.

“No, I disagree. As a friend I owe it to her to push her. What if it were me in her position? Wouldn’t you push me? You have pushed me. I’m right to encourage her to fight for her great-grandfather’s land. It’s what friends do,” he said.

“I’ve never seen you this pushy. You should ask yourself why.”

“I want to see this work out for her. The property means so much to her. That’s all there is to it,” he said.

“If you say so,” Frank said.

“I do.”

#

She drove home, her mind rehashing breakfast, Rafael and what to make of him. See where that meaningless sex gets you? Not so meaningless after all, is it? No more nice guy Rafael. He’d become all challenge, and in her face. And what was up with him and Stacy? Was he thinking about marrying her, too?

He and his stupid list. Apparently everyone was open for consideration. Everyone but her. She wasn’t someone he should consider, not that she wanted to be considered. Her stomach felt strange at that thought; a new feeling for her. Well you did say you weren’t in the market, more than once, she reminded herself.

It was nice talking to Frank and Garrett though. They both seemed like nice men, not as handsome as their Latin friend. Wouldn’t her dad have a heart attack if she brought either of them home or Rafael for that matter?

She understood her father, understood that he’d been the recipient of his fair share of hate and discrimination. But were we to hold a grudge forever? And how does that square up with we are all God’s children and forgiveness and the other Christian ideals she’d grown up hearing about in church? Could one truly forgive and forget? Should they?

She was close to her home now. There were a few houses, smaller than hers, and Rafael’s across the main road from her. The twins’ place she knew, but she hadn’t met any of her other neighbors yet; hadn’t made the time, and had only met the twins because they’d stopped by.

She saw another one of those occupants now, an elderly man, white hair around his head like it had been stuck in a socket. He was Caucasian, with skinny arms and his hands in a death grip on his walker. He was clad in an old blue robe that was tied together around his waist. He was making his way to his mailbox located near the curb of his front yard.

She waved to him, then rolled her eyes at the middle finger he shot into the air. Okay, what was up with people today? Rafael was being a pain, and now this man. What happened to neighbors being neighborly?

#

Sunday evening, found Rafael was at his brother Javier’s home. They were down in the basement—the game room—where the beer was plentiful and the pool table was always available. He’d driven over after he’d finished up at the farmer’s market, needing a break from thoughts of Carter and farming.

This used to be their regular night to shoot pool, if they’d followed the schedule they’d set years ago, but they hadn’t. Both were busy, and unless Rafael needed to talk, they saw each other mostly at family gatherings. Javier was the doctor, who lived in a well-apportioned home in an exclusive neighborhood in Austin, similar to the homes owned by his three other brothers, scattered about the city.

“So, I hear you quickly dispatched Mom’s latest female setup?” his brother said.

“You think she’d leave it alone.”

“Nope. You must be married and to a proper wife—not those wild women of other races that you like so well,” he said.

“I like who I like.”

“Well, since she can’t control your choices in employment, she will control this. You were supposed to be her professor. I’m the doctor. She has one businessman, one lawyer and one engineer. There was nowhere in her plans for a farmer. Why leave home and come to America for that? She could have done that in Guatemala. She and dad worked hard for you to receive an education at one of the finer Texas institutions, and this is all you have to show for it.”

“It’s a good thing I like you,” Rafael said, pointing his pool stick at his brother.

“Someone had to talk some sense into the black sheep’s head,” he said.

Rafael laughed, used to this kidding from his brothers. They didn’t give him too much shit about his choices. They were proud of him.

“How’s dad?” Javier asked.

“Fine. We been working to re-roof the house,” Rafael said, looking over at his brother. “Why does he put up with her?” he asked.