Hell, Yeah Read online

  He smelled like Stetson and looked like sex on a stick. The majority of Cathy’s determination plunged to the bottom of the deepest gutter. The warmth of his breath on her neck shoveled dirt on what little willpower was left. She wanted to forget breakfast and lock the front door.

  Rocky poked his head in the door and followed his nose to the kitchen where he pulled out a chair and sat down. “Food?”

  “My food,” Travis said.

  “I’ll fight you for it, and as hungry as I am, you will lose,” Rocky said.

  Cathy shook her finger at them. “Oh, stop your pissin’ contest. I’ve got enough cooked for the Confederate Army if the South wanted to rise again. Travis, put another plate on the table. Rocky, you can pour your own coffee. It’ll be ready when I flip these last pancakes.”

  The little guardian angel that she hated sat on her shoulder and whispered that Rocky was her salvation, not a demon. He kept interrupting things because she and Travis were headed down a highway straight into trouble. Friendship was fine and dandy. Anything past that would never work.

  But what if he’s the devil in disguise and just keeping me from my soul mate? Tell me that, would you? And while you are at it, go rustle me up a handful of straight pins and one of those little voodoo dolls that looks like Rocky.

  She flipped the last of the pancakes onto a platter and set it in the middle of the table, along with a second platter piled high with bacon, cheese omelets, and toast.

  “I can’t believe you made me eat cold Pop Tarts when you can cook like this,” Travis said.

  “When did that happen?” Rocky heaped pancakes and bacon onto his plate.

  Travis slipped two omelets, toast, and bacon on his plate. “She froze me then wouldn’t even feed me and she knows how to cook. I’m not sure she can get into heaven after committing sins like that. St. Peter might give her one of them do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars and go straight to hell cards.”

  “You played too much Monopoly in your life,” Cathy said.

  “Way I heard it is that she’s mean as an old arthritic grizzly bear with a toothache in the mornings,” Rocky said.

  Cathy buttered a piece of toast and opened the strawberry jam. “Did you both forget I’m sitting right here and if I’m that hard to live with I could take all this food and dump it in the trash. And who told you I was mean?”

  “Luther didn’t let his coat tail hit his hind end before he was in the shack tellin’ everyone that would listen that you was ready to take him on in a fistfight, but Travis stepped in to stop it. He said that he’d marry you tomorrow mornin’ but that you must already be in love with Travis because you wouldn’t even go on a date with him. I ain’t never seen nobody tell Luther no. Are you in love with Travis?” Rocky asked between bites.

  “That man would scare a rattlesnake out of an outhouse. It wasn’t guts that told him no, it was pure old fear. And I’m not in love with Travis. We are just very good friends. What did that driller think he was doing making a play for Luther’s wife?” Cathy swiftly changed the subject.

  “Well, Luther thinks you’d kick a rattlesnake out of an outhouse and not even flinch. He was plumb impressed by you, darlin’. He said if Travis don’t hurry up he’s goin’ to beat his time with you. We all got bets laid as to which one will get you to go on a real date first.”

  Cathy swallowed quickly to keep from choking. “You might as well take your money back because it will set in the pot until it rots into dust. I’m not interested in marriage. Tell me about the driller who hit on Luther’s wife. Did he have a case of acute stupid or a death wish?”

  Rocky put a second stack of pancakes on his plate. “We’ll see about that money. I betcha it’s in somebody’s pocket by the time we hit oil. And about the driller. He won’t ever work with one of Amos’s crews again. Not only was he messin’ around with Luther’s wife, he was playin’ around with Bart’s on the side too. Plus he was lookin’ the other way while his sorry nephew stole equipment.”

  She ignored the bet issue and kept the subject on Luther. “What’d she look like?”

  “Skinny as a rail. Black hair. Nothin’ special but Luther thought she was some kind of angel. I’ll marry you tomorrow if you’ll cook for me,” Rocky said.

  “No thanks,” Cathy said.

  Two men now had made the comment that they’d marry Cathy. A pang of pure old green jealousy stabbed Travis in the heart. He finished off his eggs and forked a stack of three pancakes to his plate. They were delicious but not as good as one of Cathy’s kisses. He wouldn’t marry her for her cooking but for the way she sent his senses reeling every time he looked at her. He didn’t even have to touch her or kiss her for his body to heat up.

  “I think I’ll work late every night if you’re going to make breakfast,” Travis said.

  “I’ll make sure there’s lots of Pop Tarts in the trailer. I’ve got to go grocery shopping after work today. You got any particular flavor you are partial to? You could dip them in yogurt,” she said.

  Rocky shuddered. “That is gross.”

  “I need to shop too. How about I go with you?” Travis asked.

  Rocky looked up with a gleam in his eye.

  Cathy put up a palm. “It’s not a date. It’s two business associates and friends going shopping for Pop Tarts.”

  “Well, dang. I was ready to tell Luther that Travis had beat his time. Then we could lay bets on how long Travis could keep all them pretty white teeth.”

  “You are all crazy,” Cathy said. “I’m not talking about dating anymore. Why did you come into town, anyway? I don’t think you could smell bacon frying all the way out to Jezzy’s place.”

  “I need a copy of all the roughnecks and their current status with safety protocols. Inspector is coming around in a day or two. I want everything in order,” he said.

  She left them to finish their mid-afternoon breakfast and carried her coffee to the computer. She brought up the right forms, printed them, and stapled them together. “There you go.”

  “So is everything up to code?” Travis asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Amos would shell out the pink slips if we lost a day because of some minor regulatory infraction. He doesn’t abide stupidity.”

  “He did with that driller,” Cathy said.

  “Yes, but he corrected it in a hurry. I got to run. Thanks for the food. You ever change your mind about marriage you call old Rocky. I’ll do right by you, I promise. But if you got a mind to make me eat them toaster things, I’ll divorce your sorry hide.”

  She waved without looking up from the computer screen. “You are welcome. I won’t change my mind. And you don’t have to worry about a divorce. You got to have a marriage first and it ain’t happenin’.”

  Travis looked at the clock on the microwave. It was a quarter past four. It would take ten minutes, tops, to do the dishes. What in the hell was he going to do with the other thirty-five minutes? He could instigate a making out session and see where it would lead, but he’d only feel cheated. Thirty-five minutes was barely enough time to get warmed up. Hell, he could cuddle that long before and after with the middle lasting a heck of a lot longer than a mere thirty-five minutes. With a soft sigh he started straightening the kitchen.

  “I’ll help with that after five. I want to get this last report done in case Amos comes in tonight. Especially if there’s an inspector on the way,” she said.

  “You cooked. I’ll clean. Are we really going shopping after five?”

  “I am. You can go with me if you want. What time do you have to be back to go to the rig?”

  “I’m on from ten tonight until five in the morning. I’ll be asleep when you come in to work tomorrow. If Luther comes in don’t let him laugh,” Travis said.

  “If anyone tried to keep Luther from laughing he’d blow up and the trailer wouldn’t be anything but a pile of rubble anyway,” she said.

  She heard the door shut and looked up to find Travis gone. One minute he was in the kitchen clean
ing up and the next he was gone. She was both angry and relieved—angry that she couldn’t see him and relieved for the same reason.

  * * *

  Travis stared at the picture of Nikita again on the DVD box and saw Cathy rather than the actress. What had brought him to Mingus anyway? He didn’t believe in coincidence or fate either. Amos told him he’d hire Angel but only if Travis would go to Mingus to be her mentor. He’d come close to refusing but Angel needed a toe in a good company and Amos was the best. He rationalized that it was Angel then that brought him to Mingus. It wasn’t that spunky, smart, and beautiful bartender who could make a nun have dirty thoughts.

  The picture of the actress stared at him as if she knew something he didn’t.

  “What?” he muttered.

  Why don’t admit you’ve got a thing for her that goes way beyond friendship?

  He picked up the novel on his nightstand and propped a few pillows against the headboard. He read ten pages and checked the clock. He couldn’t remember a single word he’d read but it had passed off ten minutes. He threw the book to one side and laced his hands behind his head. He didn’t need a picture of an actress to remind him of Cathy. All he had to do was shut his eyes and there she was: in the kitchen with an egg turner in her hand; behind the bar at the Honky Tonk; changing oil in her car. And in every single scenario she was sexy as the devil.

  It took three days past eternity but finally the clock numbers said four fifty-nine. He rolled off the bed, put on socks and boots, grabbed his coat from the closet, and carried it to the office.

  * * *

  Cathy worked up the reports and watched the minutes tick off the clock so slow that she wondered if the electricity had gone off. Finally she heard him shuffling around in the bedroom, checked the clock, and shut down the computer at a minute until quitting time.

  Her heart did one of those skips like a little girl who was set free from school after a long day of multiplication tables and verbs and couldn’t wait to prance all the way home. When Travis stopped in front of her desk, it forgot about skipping and went into a full-fledged race that set her pulse into a thump like the drum rolls in a rock band.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Soon as I take this report back and file it. Got Amos’s all stapled and ready.” She pointed to the one on the desk.

  “I’ll file it.” He reached.

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

  She slipped her feet back into the boots under her desk and was standing at the door when he returned.

  “Where do you buy groceries?” he asked.

  “Wal-Mart in Mineral Wells. If they don’t have it in Wal-Mart then I don’t need it,” she said.

  “So does that mean you aren’t a high maintenance broad?”

  “It means I’m a redneck broad,” she said. “I’ll get my coat out of the apartment and meet you at the garage.”

  “We can take my truck,” he said.

  “I’m driving. Does that hurt your male pride?”

  “Depends. I refuse to ride behind you on that Harley,” he said.

  “There’s not enough room in my saddle bags for groceries. We’ll have to take the Caddy or the truck. Since it looks like it could rain we’d best go in the Caddy or else everything will get wet.”

  “I suppose my male pride can handle being chauffeured in a Caddy. Do I ride in the front or the backseat?”

  “In the front, but you aren’t driving,” she said.

  “Okay then. I’ll meet you in the garage.”

  She made a hasty trip through the apartment and into the bathroom where she touched up her makeup, applied a fresh coat of lipstick and a dab of blush before she brushed her hair. After that she grabbed her coat from the bedroom closet and hurried out to the garage.

  Travis leaned against the side of the Caddy. “I’d have started it and had it warmed up for you but I forgot to ask you for the keys.”

  “A knight in shinin’ armor.” She smiled.

  He opened the door and made sure her coat was tucked in before he shut it. “Nope, just a cowboy whose momma taught him to be nice.”

  She pushed the button on the remote garage door opener and waited for it to roll up. “What else did your momma teach you?”

  “To say please and thank you,” he said.

  She started the engine, drove out of the garage, and pushed the remote to close the door.

  “So your momma is still alive?”

  “Oh, yes, alive and raising horses. She’s the horse rancher. Dad is a lawyer and wouldn’t know a good horse from a swayback mule.”

  She pulled out of the Honky Tonk parking lot and drove south to the interstate where she hung a left and set the cruise control on seventy-five. “Where do they live?”

  “Fort Smith. I was born and grew up there right on the ranch. Momma’s people were all horse ranchers. Dad’s were all corporate people. It was the story of opposites attracting each other. But they’ve made it work for thirty-five years, so it must be true.”

  “Is that all she taught you, to say please and thank you?” she asked.

  He smiled. “She said that my smart brain would take me far in life but charm would get me anything I wanted. What’d your momma teach you?”

  “To work my tail off, make good grades for a scholarship to the university, and to never think any man was better than no man,” she said.

  “There’s nothing about nice and please and thank you in there,” he said.

  “Nope. My granny taught me that and my daddy taught me to change oil and fix cars like you already know.”

  “What else did your momma teach you?”

  “To respect her. Momma was a woman who demanded respect. She wasn’t my best friend. She said I could kick any bush in Mena, Arkansas, and find a best friend and they’d change as often as I changed my mind about my hair or clothes, but I’d only get one momma and her place was to be a mother. I worked my hind end off in high school, was valedictorian of the graduating class, and got a good scholarship. Went to the university and bartended for extra money even though I wasn’t old enough. Fake IDs are cheap. Then came back home to Mena and worked at an oil company.”

  “So did you believe her about the ‘any man, no man’ thing?”

  “I sure did. It was the best advice she gave me.”

  “Then you’ve never been married?”

  She shook her head. “Almost once.”

  “What happened?”

  “He got mean. I got gone.”

  Travis’s gut clenched up. “Someone hit you?”

  “His name is Brad Alton. We were engaged and he let his temper go past knocking a hole in the wall or throwing a hammer through the windshield of my car. When he hit me, I left. It’s in the past. I’ve moved on.”

  “Did you hit him back?” Travis asked.

  “Hell yeah. Now let’s change the subject. We’ve only got an hour to shop because if I’m there any longer than that Tinker will be out lookin’ for me. He’s never come to the Tonk and not found someone there.”

  An uneasy feeling prickled the back of her neck while she shopped. Twice she saw two men dart around a corner too fast and once she noticed the same two lingering far too long in the tea aisle without putting a single thing in their cart. She tried to get a good look at them to compare notes with Tinker that night after hours but they were always looking away or moving too fast. So she added two boxes of green tea to her cart and went on, completely forgetting about them when Travis smiled at her purchase.

  * * *

  Wednesday night was church night in the Bible belt. God might forgive a body for succumbing to the wild call on Friday and Saturday nights after a hard week’s work, but He did not forgive folks for going to the Honky Tonk when the church doors were thrown wide open and there was an opportunity to repent for the weekend slide from grace. There were folks in and around Mingus who liked to sow wild oats through the week and sit in the front row of church on Sunday and Wednesday to pray for a crop f
ailure. Then there were those who didn’t care if the wild oats made a bumper crop. Those were the ones who often frequented the Honky Tonk on Wednesday night.

  Jezzy and Leroy were there but Sally stayed home to grade papers. Merle found Luther and they laid claim to the closest pool table. Rocky and Tilman ordered a bucket of beer and carried it to a table where a couple of ladies had come in with flirting on the brain.

  “Hey, Cathy, can we plug up that old jukebox? Remember us? I’m Betsy. We were over here Monday when it was so crowded we couldn’t even wiggle,” one of the women shouted.

  Cathy nodded at Tinker who lumbered over to the jukebox, plugged it in, and put a quarter in to start the music. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Bag played an instrumental called “The Cannonball Rag.” The women pulled Rocky and Tilman out on the floor and had them doing a fast waltz by the time the second guitar lick sounded.

  They held on to their dancing oil men when the song ended and Charley Pride started singing about loving her a long, long time. Betsy melted against Rocky so tightly that there wasn’t room for a breath of fresh air between them. If she could fry bacon he might have just found a wife.

  Jezzy propped a hip on a bar stool. “How’s the job going?”

  “Which one?”

  “I can see how this one is going. I’m talkin’ about the one out there in the trailer. Does it make you want to go back to accounting and forget this bartending?”

  “Hell no!”

  “I heard that you locked horns with Luther.” She giggled.

  “I can’t hiccup without everyone in Palo Pinto County knowing what I had to drink after I shut down the Tonk.”

  “That’s about right,” Jezzy said. “That Luther is one big man. Sally’s eyes about popped out of her head when she saw him. If I was twenty years younger I’d take him on. I always did like ’em big and burly. I heard you and Travis went grocery shoppin’ together. That sounds serious to me.”