Hell, Yeah Page 16

  She nodded.

  He pulled two out of the ice and carried them to the nearest table. She had already propped her feet up when he handed her a bottle. She downed half of it before she came up with a loud burp.

  “Pardon me. My redneck woman gene just surfaced,” she said.

  He propped his aching feet up on the table. She was beautiful even at the end of a busy shift. Her ponytail was a little limp, her makeup sweated off, and there was a stain on the front of her shirt. Even after working all night she could have walked down a model’s runway and had every photographer in the joint vying for a picture of her. A hint of cleavage started his testosterone boiling as if he hadn’t been sleep deprived. He looked over at the jukebox.

  Maybe a couple of slow ones. Mercy, who would have ever thought that bartending could suck even more energy out of a man than putting up an oil derrick.

  He pulled a handful of change from his pocket.

  “You don’t pay for your beer after work. It’s part of the deal,” she said.

  He set his beer down and headed toward the jukebox. He plugged in the old one and put a quarter in the slot. “Didn’t intend to pay for it.”

  Travis walked across the floor and held out his hand to Cathy as Ronnie Milsap started singing a slow ballad.

  She slung her feet off the table and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I thought you couldn’t dance.”

  “Love to dance but I hate all that crowded business. My idea of dancin’ is two people, one dance floor, one bedroom floor, one big old barn, or even one grassy lawn,” he whispered.

  Cathy laid her head on his shoulder and wished she could stay there in his arms for eternity. Brad was the last man who’d held her in his arms for a dance and that had ended in a blaze of fireworks that had nothing to do with passion and everything to do with anger.

  He kept her in his arms when the second song started. “I don’t think Mickey Gilley sang ‘City Lights’ first. Wasn’t it Ray Price? My grandpa loved him.”

  “My dad did too,” Cathy said. “What’d you pick for your third song?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He tipped her chin up and brought her lips to his for a lingering kiss. “Behind Closed Doors” played as the kisses went on and on.

  “But I really am too tired to say ‘I want to,’ like Charlie Rich is singing,” Cathy whispered.

  He kissed her eyelids and her forehead before going back to her lips. “For tonight this is enough.”

  When the song ended he led her back to the table. “Thank you for the dances.”

  “You are very welcome, but now it’s my turn.” She removed a quarter from the cash register and headed for the jukebox.

  Travis tipped up his bottle of beer and took a long draw. He watched her punch the buttons and use her forefinger to motion him to join her in the middle of the dance floor.

  She wrapped her hand around his neck and she moved to “Marie Laveau” by Bobby Bare. He put his hands on her ribs and ran them slowly down the length of her body all the way to her ankles and back up as they kept time to the music. When he reached the top again he whipped her around and put both hands on her shoulders and began something between salsa and dirty dancing.

  She’d thought she’d show him a thing or two about dancing, but his hands on her body and his eyes locked with hers made her wonder who the teacher was. When the next song started she whipped a pretend skirt tail around her legs and did a seventies style bee-bop dance to “Bright Lights and Big City” by Sonny James. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and a big grin on his face. He reached out and took her hand and spun her around four times. If she’d been wearing a cotton skirt over a big can-can slip, it would have been standing straight out by the time he let her go. He spread out his legs and slung her between them and back again. Then he pulled her into his arms and put one arm around her waist and one on her shoulder to finish the song.

  “Where’d you learn to dance like that?” She panted.

  “My grandma. We used to go there on Sundays and Grandma would get out her old vinyl records. My great-grandma could do the Charleston and the jitterbug. I grew up dancing.”

  “You been holdin’ out on me cowboy,” she said.

  “Got to keep a few surprises to keep you interested.”

  Her last song was an old Elvis Presley song, “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.” Travis drew her to his chest and barely moved as they listened to Elvis’s smooth voice.

  “Am I supposed to be thinking about you or the words to this song? Did you choose this to send me a message?” Travis asked.

  “I’m not sending messages,” she lied.

  The last piano note echoed off the paneling on the Honky Tonk walls and still Travis held Cathy. He hummed the Elvis tune softly in her ear as he moved her around the floor a few more times. Finally, he leaned back and said, “I’ll put a dollar in if you’ll keep dancing with me.”

  Cathy shook her head. “You’ve got to work tomorrow and it’s late. Let’s call it a night.”

  He slipped an arm around her waist. “Let’s go out and look at the stars before we go to sleep.”

  She kept in step with him, their boots and the beat of their hearts the only sound in the Honky Tonk. The cold night air hit her in the face when she unlocked and opened the door. A quarter moon hung in the midst of a million stars like a king surrounded by his subjects and she could have stood there forever with his arm around her waist.

  “They are almost as beautiful as you are.” Travis softly kissed her one more time.

  She leaned against a porch post. A movement in her peripheral vision made her turn to the left and watch a van slowly drive out of the parking lot. The windows were dark and the license plate muddy. She attributed the crazy prickly feeling on her neck to the feel of Travis’s arm when he slipped it around her and forgot all about it when he brushed another kiss across her forehead.

  * * *

  Cathy awoke at ten o’clock and sat straight up, planning to get the Honky Tonk put to straights and go to work at noon. When she realized it was Saturday and she didn’t have to open the office that day, she rolled over and picked up her cell phone. She hit the speed dial number for her cousin, Daisy.

  “Daisy, I miss you,” she said when she heard the familiar voice on the other end.

  “Hey, girl, come and see me. Guess what—I’m pregnant,” Daisy said.

  “You rat. You beat me to the altar and now you get a baby before I do. Is this payback for totaling that old junky car of yours?” Cathy asked.

  “I told you I’d get even, but it took me twelve years to do it.” Daisy laughed.

  “Morning sickness?”

  “Not a bit.”

  “Now I am jealous. You get the handsome dark-haired cowboy, the ranch, the job you love, and a baby with no morning sickness. Have you been kissed by the good luck fairies?”

  “I believe I have. Speaking of babies, Chigger called last night. She’s due any day. I’m coming down there when the baby is born.”

  “Now that’s the best news I’ve heard,” Cathy shouted.

  Daisy giggled. “Don’t bust my eardrum. It’ll be next week probably. I’m waiting until she calls to start that way. I’ve already got a whole basket full of cute little pink things I bought for the new baby.”

  “I’ll make a trip to the baby store and get my present ready. There’s so much I’ve got to tell you but I’m not doing it over the phone if you are coming next week. Is Jarod coming with you?”

  “Yes, and we’ll be staying out at the ranch with Garrett. Suppose you already know that he’s plumb smitten by Angel,” Daisy said.

  “Yes I did. You could stay here. I’ll give you and Jarod my bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Cathy said. Travis could stay at home a few nights. Lately he’d shown up at her door almost every night. It started with ice, no water, a tornado, and lately just to talk for an hour or two. They’d share what they’d been doing all day, kiss a couple of times, and then mak
e out on the bed. But if Daisy was coming he could sleep in the trailer.

  “Thanks, but Garrett has lots of room. Jarod and Garrett will be all involved with the ranch business so we’ll be free to spend the days together. Now get up, clean the Tonk up, and go shopping. I’m hearing through the grapevine that Travis Henry has his eye on you,” Daisy said.

  “We’ll talk about that when you get here,” Cathy said.

  “Yes, we definitely will. I sure miss that place. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye, and tell Chigger I wouldn’t mind her havin’ that baby a few days early.” Cathy threw the covers off the bed and danced around the room like a sugared up six-year-old after a visit to Grandma’s house.

  She made coffee and carried a cup into the Tonk with her. The place was messier than she’d ever seen it, but the stuffed cash register made up for the job of putting everything to rights. By noon she had it cleaned and her weekly bank deposit ready. That involved a quick drive to the bank in Stephenville and back.

  Twice she looked up in the rearview to see a van following her but when she slowed down or pulled over to one side, it sped past her. By the time she got to the bank she’d convinced herself that it was all her imagination anyway. Then on the way back to Mingus she noticed the same color van sitting on the side of the road with the windows down. Two men were inside. They didn’t appear to be talking but cigarette smoke was drifting out the driver’s side window. She’d have to remember to ask Tinker that evening if he’d seen the two shifty characters he’d mentioned again and if one of them smoked.

  When she got back to the Smokestack in Thurber it was the middle of the afternoon and she was starved. She parked the red Caddy on the far reaches of the lot and wondered if she shouldn’t have parked closer since a sprinkle of wintry rain hit her in the face as she hurried inside out of the cold.

  “Well, look who’s here,” Amos said from a table right inside the door to her left.

  “Hi, Amos! You eatin’ alone today?”

  He motioned toward the chair on the other side of the small table. “Not now. Come sit with me. Tell me everything you know while we have our dinner and supper combined.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Ordered yet?”

  “We don’t even need a menu, do we?”

  Amos held up two fingers to the well-known waitress.

  “Coconut pie?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Amos said.

  Cathy pulled her arms from her leather jacket and let it fall back on her chair. “What brings you to Thurber today?”

  “Had to check on the well out at Jezzy’s place. It’s lookin’ promisin’,” Amos said.

  “And if it comes in good, does that mean you’ll be buying mineral rights to other property?”

  “Don’t know. Never count my chickens before they’re hatched. I’m still working on a deal up north. Depends on where I can make the most money. I been hearin’ things about Angel and Garrett. You got anything on that?”

  She’d held her breath when he said he’d been hearing things, afraid he was about to ask for a report on her and Travis. “Ask Angel.”

  “I will but first I’m askin’ you. If I take the crew to Alaska is she going with me or has Garrett McElroy stole her heart?”

  “Angel is a damn fine engineer, Amos. If she decides to stay in Texas with him, put her in charge of the wells in this area. She can handle it even if she is young and green. She’s got a nose for oil and she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty,” Cathy said.

  “That’s good advice. I wish you’d sell the Honky Tonk and come to work for me. You’ve got a nose for oil too, only in a different way, and you keep your fingers on the pulse of the staff. Name your price and I’ll double it,” he said.

  “The Tonk is not for sale,” she said seriously.

  “I’m not talking about that beer joint. I’m talking about salary.”

  “No thanks. I left that line of work behind me. I’m just doing you a favor. Answer me a question. How did you get your hands on my resume?”

  “I called Daisy. She knew where you worked so I called them and said I was interested in hiring you. They faxed the resume with enough letters of recommendation to make the President of the U.S. of A. sit up and take notice.”

  “No thanks, still,” she said.

  Amos waved at someone coming through the door. “Well, look who’s here. Hey, Travis, come on over here and join us. I’ll buy your dinner if you haven’t eaten yet.”

  He pulled up a chair beside Amos right across from Cathy. “Haven’t had a bite since breakfast and that wasn’t anything but a doughnut on the run. I’ve been out at the site and came in to get cleaned up and grab a few hours sleep before I do my shift at the Honky Tonk.”

  “What are you doing here then?” Amos asked.

  “Coming back from a fast run to Stephenville. We looked everywhere for a V-belt and couldn’t find one so I ran into town and bought a dozen. Thought I’d grab a burger before I took them out there. They won’t need them today but we will the first of the week.” He didn’t admit that he’d spotted the red Caddy as he drove past, made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road, and drove back.

  “Don’t order a burger. Get the chicken fried steak,” Amos said.

  Travis looked doubtful. “Any good? I hate a bad one.”

  Amos leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell him, Cathy.”

  “Best you’ll ever put in your mouth. Amos is paying so give it a try.”

  “I’m a connoisseur of good chicken fry.”

  “So am I,” Cathy said. “And this place makes them almost as good as my grandma’s, and honey, that’s a compliment worth havin’.”

  Amos got the waitress’ attention and held up three fingers and nodded when she mouthed “coconut pie.” In a few minutes she brought their salads and garlic bread.

  Amos dug into the salad. “We were just talking about Angel. What’s your take? You think she’ll go to Alaska when I move the crew up there?”

  “Don’t know. Ask Angel. Don’t know if they raise Angus cattle in Alaska or if Garrett would want to relocate.”

  “Pretty serious, is it?”

  “They don’t know it yet, but it’s serious. Keep her in this area and give her a shitload of responsibility. She’s tough. She can handle it.”

  Amos ate slowly, savoring every bite. “What about ranchin’, husbands, babies, and the oil business all combined?” he asked.

  “She loves her job and she’s got enough energy to do it all.”

  “And you?” Amos slipped the question in slyly and kept his eye on Cathy more than Travis.

  “Give me an opportunity to move to Alaska and I’ll have my bags packed in ten minutes. Only I want to go permanently, not on a six-month turnaround. I want to buy a chunk of property and live there.”

  The set of Cathy’s jaw told Amos that she had no notions of living in Alaska.

  “Ever been up there?” Amos asked Travis.

  “Oh, yeah. My first job as petroleum engineer back before I signed on with your company was mainly in that area. I did a six-month turnaround in the Prudhoe Bay area and said if anyone ever said I had to go back there I’d shoot myself first. Then I did a turnaround near Anchorage. Not right in the big city but on the outskirts. Fell in love with the place. That is where you are negotiating, isn’t it?”

  Amos nodded. He didn’t want Cathy to move to Alaska and he wondered just how much Travis would like it there without her.

  Chapter 12

  Travis had to push his way to the front of the line and listen to snide remarks about cutting when Tinker let him into the Honky Tonk on Saturday night. All the bar stools were filled, tables were claimed, games were going on at both pool tables with people waiting to play the winners, and the dance floor was so crowded he had to pick his way to the bar. “Come On In (The Whiskey’s Fine)” by Mark Chestnutt had line dancers and two-steppers taking up every square foot of room.

  “So
rry I’m a little late.” He went right to work taking orders.

  Cathy’s blond ponytail swung back and forth as she hurried from customer to customer. Sparkling rhinestones in the shape of a heart lit up every time the light hit her black T-shirt. Her hip slung jeans were tight and her boots scuffed and worn. His pulse was testimony that it was going to be a long, hot night and he’d be ready to sleep in the beer cooler by the time Tinker shut the place down.

  Cathy pushed the button on the blender to make a pitcher of hurricanes and took time to look at him. He had rolled up the sleeves on a black T-shirt showing biceps that flexed every time he pulled the handle to fill another Mason jar. She sniffed and got a nose full of Stetson above the smoke and perfume. It would be so damned easy to fall for Travis or even just to fall in bed with him. She’d have to be very, very careful.

  “The lot was full when I opened up. They were lined up halfway to the highway and have been coming in as fast as Tinker can check their IDs. I’m beginning to feel like we’re runnin’ one of those fancy joints in Dallas. I’ve never had to worry about the maximum load but tonight could be the first,” she said.

  “What is the max?” Travis asked.

  Cathy checked the plaque on the wall beside the mirror for an exact number. “Three hundred, but I’ve never seen that many.”

  He set two buckets on the bar and filled them with bottles of Miller and ice. “It looked like you had more than that on New Year’s and twice that many last Monday night.”

  She smiled. “We were just a little backwoods beer joint six months ago. What in the hell has happened?”

  “Twitter, Facebook, email. It’s like a small band that finally gets their foot in the door and everyone wants to say that they were following them when they were nobody. Somebody has put out the word there’s a quaint little joint over in Palo Pinto County that’s rockin’ with oldies music.” Travis set four quarts of Coors on a tray and made change for a lady with a black lace skintight top held up by thin straps. Didn’t those women know it was cold outside? What would Cathy look like in a getup like that? How long would it take him to peel it off her body? Would she knock him cold on the floor if he tried?