A Feather in the Rain (7 page)

J
esse had just cut a couple of cows to tune his horse and was letting him relax before the work. A man and his wife approached with a ten-year-old boy in a wheelchair. The boy's eyes were wide with wonder and excitement. The gentle father handling a program requested an autograph for his son. The boy began to push himself out of the chair and walk with gasping effort toward Jesse. Jesse confessed that he was nobody famous. But Danny wanted his autograph because he was a cowboy.

Jesse looked at the boy's father. “Would Danny like to get up on
this horse? He's plumb gentle.”

Before the father could respond, Danny broke into a keyboard smile and whispered hoarsely, “Yes!”

The father lifted him up to Jesse's outstretched arms. Jesse slipped him into the saddle in front of him. They walked off. The boy looked as if joy might cause his face to burst. Then Jesse stepped off and walked alongside as Danny rode by himself. When they got back to the parents, Jesse lifted Danny to the ground.

He rested in his chair and held the oxygen mask to his face. Jesse signed the program and ruffled the top of Danny's head. He felt the rush of heat in his throat and smiled. When he turned back to the horse, he saw Holly in the distance with her camera aimed at him. When she saw him look, she took her eye from the viewfinder and looked at him directly.

The hotel was top-of-the-line Rocky Mountain Resort—redwood, vaulted ceilings, glass, and modern sculpture in a spacious lobby.

In a room packed with hundreds of people, a bartender was pouring Jesse a straight scotch when Susan Hampton, the bad Bond girl, glided up, batting lashes like tarantula legs, and pursing lips on the verge of bursting from a collagen overload. She thanked him for his help with the cutting and gushed over what a great horse he'd let her ride.

“Well, you did a fine job. You would have won, if I'd been judging. I think that country western gal paid off the judges.”

Her attempt to engage him further was thwarted by the intrusion of one of the sponsors of the event, which gave Jesse a reason to drift away. He spotted Bear and family at a table with several others in animated conversation. The all-seeing Bear called to him as he stood up. “Jesse.” He walked over and clasped one hand on his shoulder and shook the other. “Come and meet some friends.”

Richard Running Deer was one of four Native Americans seated with the Bassetts. A well-known artist, he had donated a painting to be auctioned for the benefit. The Bassetts were proud of his work
and their friendship. Holly smiled politely and shook Jesse's hand. An observer might have called him cool but indeed he was hoping that the conflagration within wasn't blazing on his brow.

The room had filled with heat. Jesse stepped into the lobby to find a door to a patio when Holly was returning from the ladies. “Are you leaving?” she asked.

“No, I…I just wanted to get some air.”

“It's pretty warm in there.”

“Do you want to get some air?”

She looked at him curiously and nodded, “Yes.”

He opened the door and stepped aside as he touched her shoulder to guide her through. She felt cool, thin and smooth. The night was hushed, the moon demure behind a silvery veil in a starless sky. He asked if she had any plans.

“Oh, it's hard to say. I've got to find my mind first, before I can get it to think. There's plenty of work to be done. I'm going to help my dad in his PR business. I like to write. I like taking pictures. We're going to put up a tepee, a big one. Something Bear has always wanted to do. I don't know. I'm just going to see what happens. And you? What are you up to?”

“Well, I…I've got a colt back home I'm gonna take to The Futurity. He's a pretty good one.” He smiled, feeling foolish for not being better at conversation and was beginning to hope for a rescue. “Would you like something to drink?”

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she looked at him almost as if she hadn't heard. He wanted to ask what she was thinking about but the whole idea unnerved him. Then she said, “Okay.”

He held the door as she walked in. He caught her scent of musk and amber, the air made sacred by her presence. He watched the swinging slope of slender shoulders and the straight tapered back beneath the swirl of hair. In the landscape of his heart, the earth gaped and sucked him headlong into a pit of loneliness and despair. She stopped to greet some friends. He drifted off.

Susan Hampton made one more attempt to connect with Jesse,
then moved on in pursuit of easier game. Just as Jesse thought he could vanish, Larry intercepted him and said, “So, did you make a deal?”

“What?”

Mischief in his eyes, lopsided grin pulling at his face, “Bear's little girl. She sure is a pretty thing.”

“Are you crazy? Little girl is right. I've got boots older than she is.”

“I don't know…she might be older than she looks.”

“Not enough.”

“I don't know. I think you're missing a bet. I see things. She's interested in you, son.”

“I can't even look at her. I'll bet I'm older than her father.”

“You just look older. You need a young woman. Hell, we all do. It's natural. Older men need younger women. Young men need older women. Works out real good for everybody. I remember when I was about twenty-two I had me a woman was fifty. And, man, I'm here to tell you it doesn't get any better than she was. She had hell trying to get rid of me.”

“Why am I talking to you?”

“Cuz I'm a smart feller and I know what I'm talking about. Anyway, if you want to be stupid, go ahead. Listen, why don't you stick around for a few days. Stay up at the ranch and help me work those horses. Oh, and that Susan Hampton asked me why you wouldn't pay her any mind. I told her you was an odd feller and that I thought you was gay.”

Jesse chuckled and shook his head. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“You're making a big mistake. That gal is gonna be dreaming about you tonight. Two of 'em gonna be dreaming about you. And you going home alone. Damn, you're a sorry son of a bitch.”

Jesse waved over his shoulder as he headed across the lobby.

He closed the door to his room behind him and stood rooted to the spot by some unbidden thought that held him paralyzed in its grip. Maybe I should load up and hit the road right now. A clawing
fear of the lack of purpose and meaning to his empty loveless life filled him with despair.

The Smith and Wesson was a slick little unit with custom sculpted cherry-wood grips to accommodate his oversized hand. Like a polished wooden nude, it was a soothing thing to fondle. It was loaded. He rubbed it over his face slowly noticing the smell of oil and gunpowder and thought about what that final moment would be like to actually consider putting the barrel to his temple or in his mouth (which would be the better choice?) and pulling the trigger. The physical thing couldn't be much. What about the mess? Someone would have to clean up his splattered brains and bits of bone and blood all over everything. And what about the folks he'd leave behind? Not too big a thing. His momma and his father were already gone. Speaking of old Clyde Burrell, he'd kick up the graveyard over this. He'd be waiting for me on the other side, arms folded, tapping his foot, and looking at his spur until I stood before him waiting for the storm.

Abbie would sure feel bad. She'd be angry, disappointed, wounded. She'd think I was a fool. He snapped open the cylinder and tipped the copper and lead-headed bullets into his palm and rolled them together like dice. They were smooth with oil sheen and made a comforting sound. He slid them each into their chambers and clicked the cylinder shut. He kept the gun in his hand.

The thought was damn sure intriguing. He'd get to see Zack on his new turf. Meeting this Holly Marie Bassett…why in hell did that have to happen? Jesus, I've got to get the hell out of here. Out of where? No matter where I go, my mind is coming with me. Unless I lose it. Now there's a thought. Goddamn. I've got to quit this.

A
bbie, sprawled face down in the pillow, groped for the phone and got it to her mouth. Before she could say hello, the voice on the other end said, “Wake up. No sleeping allowed.”

“Damn. You caught me laying down on the job. I'm sure there's something I ought to be doing at one in the morning besides sleeping.”

“I can think of lots of things.”

“So can I. In fact I was dreaming about one of them when the phone rang, thank you very much.”

“How was it?”

“It was great up until that point.”

“Let me know how it turns out. How is everything?”

“Aside from the barn burning down everything is fine.”

“Say you're kidding.”

“And the house too. Sparks carried from the barn.” She laughed. “I'm kidding. How're you doin', Boss? You having fun?”

“Yeah. I'll be back in a couple of days. I'll call you from the road. Go back to sleep.”

“I wish. I hope. See ya. Hey. Bring me back an Aspen leaf.”

L
arry was loading saddles into his trailer. “I'll be there for The Futurity. We're gonna do some filming there. I want to see you win it, son.”

Jesse smiled. “Call me when you're on your way. Thanks for inviting me up. I had a good time.”

“Thanks for coming.” He stepped down out of the trailer stuffing a pinch of Copenhagen into his lip. “Everybody's been bragging on you, saying what a nice guy you are. Specially Bear and Ruby. Course I told them they don't know you like I do. Holly didn't say anything though. I figure that Susan Hampton told her you was a sissy.” Larry stood in front of him and said, “You're a good man. Take care of yourself. You want to talk, call me or get your ass back up here.” Over their handshake, he said, “Drive safe.”

Jesse nodded, “You, too.” He turned and walked toward his rig.

The horses were tied to the trailer ready to be loaded. Bear and Ruby came to say goodbye and tell him how much they enjoyed
meeting him and to come visit at their little place up north. He thought he'd probably never see them again. It saddened him. “Tell Holly Marie I said goodbye. I enjoyed meeting her.”

Bear said, “Oh, she said she wanted to come and say goodbye. She should be here in a minute. Well, we'll see you. You come and visit us. We mean it now.” Ruby put her arms around Jesse and said, “We love you…you and Damien will be in our prayers.” She felt so small in his arms. He thought he mustn't hug too tight or risk cracking a rib. But when she looked up into his eyes, he saw the power and strength. She smiled at him and walked after Bear who turned to take her hand.

Jesse waved. “Adios.” He turned back and started to load the horses. As he stepped out of the trailer to get the second horse, she was standing there.

A spine-thrill of delight went through him and then the thud of a brick hitting him in the chest. She stood hip-cocked in a Zack stance and then shifted her weight just exactly as he would. Then she made a totally girlish move completely her own as he walked up to her. He imagined her pale breasts behind the fresh white shirt below that apricot triangle of neck and tried to still the tremor he was sure she could see. Her lips shone like licked red candy and he wished she would just say goodbye and leave. No, he didn't. He wished she would stay forever. He wished he could grasp her hand and put her in the truck and take her home to Texas. The intoxicating brown fragrance of her mesmerized him. She reached out her hand. He took it. In that formal, extremely polite way that she had, she thanked him for the riding lesson and said how nice it was to have met him. She hadn't seen him poking a pistol barrel into the hollow of his cheek. She didn't know he had visualized his brain like a flung pizza splattered on a wall.

She stood there for a moment in silence, as fair as a lily, those smoky blue-gray eyes scanning his soul. A breeze lifted her hair and caressed her neck. He wished he'd been that breeze.

Her eyes fell to his hands that could uproot a tree, hands that
could caress a woman's softness.

Feeling like an oaf in a ballet class, he managed to tell her to “get out there and ride those horses y'all have. You've got a real good feel.” Of all the things in the world a person could say, this is what I come up with. Good. Real good. You should've pulled the trigger.

The next thing he knew he was watching her walk away again, only this time he wouldn't be seeing her tomorrow.

H
e drove clean through Colorado and saw nothing. An oppressive melancholy had closed in like a dense fog. He ached with a crushing desire he had never felt before. The more he realized it was never to be satisfied, the deeper he despaired.

The more he tried to push her out of his mind, the more insistent she became. He imagined himself picking up the cell phone, telling her he loved her, turning around to go back and get her and taking her home to Texas to spend the rest of his life with her.