Broken Promises (10 page)

Tess slapped another four pounds of sausage onto the griddle and checked the oven for the next batch of biscuits. She dumped another round of well-browned-to-charred potatoes onto a large serving plate, slid the plate along the table, and finished turning the sausages. Meanwhile in the oven, the biscuits burned. By the time she opened the door, it was too late. Smoke poured out and rose to the ceiling of the cook shack. While on the stove, the sausages charred.

Damn Ezzie! She slid the platter of overcooked sausages and the rest of the burnt biscuits down the table. Nothing in life prepared her to cook for a crew of hungry men. "Sorry, guys, that's all there is," she said. Dusting her hands, she removed her apron, and said, "I'll see you at lunch." She slapped her apron on the table and left for Baker’s Creek and the Blue Ox Cafe.

An hour later, she gave up her search. No one in town had seen either Ezzie or Becky Tyson, and the cafe was closed for the day. Frustrated, she headed back to Timber West. But as she drove, her thoughts kept returning to Zak. In fact, she had trouble keeping her mind on anything
but
Zak. With all the problems between their fathers it seemed pointless to consider rebuilding what they'd once had, and after Zak's specious explanation about why he married so soon, she thought she'd put an end to that notion. Yet, she couldn't seem to set it aside.

In spite of what she'd said to him about their past relationship—sex without substance—she couldn't help thinking it was more. She also wanted to spend time with him, even found herself concocting reasons to stop by his place.
Did he have any extra outdoor light bulbs? Could she borrow his loppers to clear some blackberries behind the cabin? Does he have a toilet plunger?
But then she'd remember how senseless it would be. Even if she reconciled herself to his hasty marriage, his father's mandate that he marry a Basque woman would still hold, if Zak wanted to maintain his position as
etcheko
primu
. Which brought her full circle again...

She was still contemplating Zak when she arrived at Timber West. But as she was walking
 
toward the cook shack, the sound of clattering metal in concert with the roar of an approaching vehicle brought her head around.
Ezzie's
old truck, dragging several strings of tin cans behind, rattled to a stop. Scrawled across the window in large letters were the words JUST MARRIED. When Ezzie stepped from the truck, Tess couldn't contain the wide grin on seeing him wearing a gray pinstriped suit with a white bow tie, and a pink flower in the lapel. She rushed over to the truck. "
Ez
," she said, reaching out to give Ezzie a hug. "And Becky." She moved around the truck to hug
Ezzie's
bride through the window. Becky's face was as bright as
Ezzie's
. "You look beautiful," Tess said. "When did all this happen?"

"About thirty minutes ago," Becky replied.

Ezzie wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "She was a hard woman to convince, but last week she said 'yes,' and I don't like long engagements. As pretty as she is, she could've been snatched up by somebody else." Becky blushed and said nothing.

Ezzie turned to Tess. "I'm sorry, TJ," he said. "I guess I sort of lost track of time."

Tess smiled at Ezzie. How could she possibly be angry with someone who grinned the way he was grinning. "You're forgiven this time," she said. "What are your plans now?"

Ezzie gave Tess a sheepish grin. "Could I maybe have tomorrow off
so's
I could add it to the weekend for our honeymoon? I promised Becky I'd take her to
Crater Lake
."

"Sure you can," Tess said, knowing she'd regret it come dinner time. Hopefully, Curt would keep things moving in the pole timber area while she concentrated on feeding the crew.

Ezzie's
eyes brightened. "Thanks, TJ." He slid into the drivers seat, then waved to the crowd of men that had gathered to watch the truck as it rattled and banged down the dirt road. Tess grinned until they moved out of sight. But her smile faded when she turned toward the cook shack. At lunch, she was no more organized than she'd been at breakfast, even though she started preparations almost an hour before. She looked at the somber faces as she cradled a huge bowl of potatoes in the crook of her arm and whipped with quick, agitated strokes, but the lumps defied her. Plunking the bowl on the table, she said, "That's the best I can do."

Herring scooped out a wad of lumpy potatoes and looked at Tess. "You got any gravy, TJ?"

"Gravy! Damn!" Tess rushed to the stove as the smell of scorching gravy wafted through the cook shack. With a dishcloth, she grabbed the handle of the big iron skillet and headed for the sink, but before she could get there, the wet dishcloth steamed hot and she dropped the skillet, splattering scorched gravy around the floor. Tears of frustration stung her eyes. She had no idea how Ezzie did it, but she couldn't handle the job alone, nor would the men be satisfied with a meager plate of lumpy potatoes for lunch.

As she made one last trip to the storage shed to get what remained on the shelves, she was surprised to see Zak's truck pull in. He jumped out, leaving Pio in the truck, and walked toward her, a worried frown on his brow.

"I'm in a bind," he said. "I can't find Becky and she's suppose to look after Pio."

"Becky from the Blue Ox?" Tess asked.

Zak nodded. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. You missed her by about two hours. She and Ezzie were here."

"Here?" Zak said, incredulous. "Becky was here?"

"For a couple of minutes. She and Ezzie are off to
Crater Lake
for their honeymoon."

Zak stared at Tess. Then he combed his fingers through his hair, and said, "I knew I should have called and reminded her. I've got to meet my assistant for a couple of nest climbs, and I can't take Pio with me because it's dense forest where we’re going. And with Becky gone..." He paused, shifting his gaze to Pio in the truck, then to Tess. The frown deepened.

"How long will you be gone?" Tess asked.

"That's the problem. We'll be gone for two days," Zak replied. "I've left Pio with Becky before and he likes it there... even helps at the café some." He looked at Tess thoughtfully then, and she could almost see the wheels turning.

She shook her head. "Don't even think about it."

"It's only for one night," Zak said.

Tess glanced at Pio, then at the expectant look on Zak's face, and said, "You know how he feels about me. Besides, I've never looked after a six-year-old before."

"He doesn't take much looking after," Zak said. "He's really very little trouble,"

Tess wasn't sure she could cope with a young boy for two days, especially one who so openly disliked her. But Zak would not have asked if there had been any other way. And it was for just one night. Certainly she could look after one pint-sized adversary for that little time. "Okay," she said, "but if he acts up, you'll have to let me discipline him the best way I see fit."

"He won't give you any trouble," Zak assured her. He retrieved Pio and the boy's overnight bag from the truck and set it beside Tess.

Tess gave Pio and apprehensive smile, and said, "I'm glad you'll be staying with me, Pio. We'll try to do something special tonight." She extended her hand.

Pio backed away and looked at Zak. "I don't want to stay here," he said, "I want to go with you."

Zak crouched, pulled Pio toward him, and said, "I can't take you with me. I already explained that to you. If I could, I would, but it's not possible this time. I love you, son, and I'll be back in two days." He hugged Pio, then he said to Tess, "I'll make it up to you when I get back. I promise." He moved toward her, and lifted his hand as if to touch her face, then his arm dropped again and he turned and climbed into his truck.

Pio stood beside her until Zak had driven off, but when she tried to take his hand to lead him into the cook shack, he looked up with narrowed, resentful eyes, jerked his hand away, and ran toward the bunkhouse. And Tess was reminded
again
, how many obstacles there were between her and Zak. She heaved a weary sigh. Some things were just not meant to be.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next day, as Pio stood on a stool stirring the huge pot of beans bubbling on the stove, Tess eyed him dubiously. So far today there had been no major incidents. But the night before, Pio tested her patience to the limits by stuffing toilet paper into the bowl and flushing it until the water rose and welled over the edge, cascading to the floor. She'd held her temper, but resolved to discuss the incident with Zak. She had no idea how to handle the boy.

Pio glanced around, and catching her watching, glared at her.

On the other hand, he'd been a model child with the men while they waited for breakfast earlier. They'd ruffled his hair and tussled with him, and he'd responded by laughing and wanting more. But once alone with her, Pio became sullen again. Tess willed herself to be patient, repeating silently that Pio's behavior was the result of being confronted with the prospect of having another mother when he still hadn't let go of the one he'd lost. She even considered assuring him that she was not, and would never be, a contender for mother because his father would only marry a Basque woman, and she wasn't Basque. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to have that conversation with him.

Still she couldn't help feeling disappointed. She'd hoped Pio would have warmed by now, but instead, he was more aloof than before, refusing even to talk to her. Shortly after lunch, Zak returned. When Pio saw his truck, he raced out of the cook shack to meet him. Zak caught him in a mid-air leap and the boy wrapped himself around his father. Tess stood in the doorway to the cook shack, watching. Zak looked past Pio at her and winked. "Thanks for stepping in for me," he said. "How did you two get on?"

Tess walked out to where Zak stood with Pio, and replied, "It was... fine. He helped some with meals. And the men enjoyed having him."

Zak looked at her as if to say,
'only the men
?'

Tess shrugged and said nothing.

Zak held her gaze for a few moments, as if waiting for her to offer more, but when she didn't, he said, "Is it something we need to talk about?"

"No," Tess replied, "just a little touch of reality. Pio misses his mother."

Zak set Pio down and he scampered off to watch the men, who were leaving the cook shack. Turning to Tess, he said, "Tomorrow is the
Taureau
de
Feu
Festival
in
Navarre
and I plan to take Pio to see it. He used to go to it in
France
. It should help lift his spirits some."

"I'm sure it will," Tess said, "as well as being in
Navarre
where things are familiar to him."

"That too. But I want you to come with us."

Tess shook her head. "Out of the question. Pio would not want me along. He's been testing me for two days, and I know it's because he thinks I'm a prospective
 
mother for him. I came very close to assuring him that he had absolutely no worries along those lines."

"Look, maybe I didn't explain things about me and Mirande very well the other night," Zak said, "If you come with us tomorrow it'll give me more time to try and set things straight." He looked at her soberly and said, "Give me this day."

As Tess looked into his soulful eyes, she couldn't bring herself to say
'no, I won't go with you because you married the first woman you met after leaving me...
' but said instead, "Okay then, but don't expect Pio to be overjoyed when he finds out I'll be coming."

Zak smiled, a broad, incredibly appealing smile that had Tess's nerves humming, and her heart skipping, and her mind racing back to a time when that smile also meant he loved her. Then he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and said, "Thank you, honey. And don't worry about Pio. He'll be so caught up in the activities, neither of us will matter."

Tess started to tell him not to jump to conclusions, just because she agreed to go with him, but he said he wanted to ‘
set things straight
,’ and she wanted to hear what he had to say. She also liked the sound of the word
honey
coming from his lips again.

She glanced around and saw that the men were getting their things together and preparing to leave for the Memorial Day weekend and wouldn't be back until Tuesday, when Ezzie would also be back. She was apprehensive about leaving the camp unattended, knowing that someone was intent on shutting down the place.

Seeing her worried look, Zak said, "We'll be back by tomorrow evening."

Tess sighed. "I suppose I can leave this place for a day."

Zak called Pio, and when he came over to see what Zak wanted, Zak said, "I have some surprises for both of you." He reached into the truck and brought out four boxes, and handed two to Pio and two to Tess. Pio raised the lid of one box, and his eyes grew round as he lifted a pair of new black boots from the box. "Go on," Zak said, "put them on."

Pio flopped down on the ground, set the other box aside and yanked off his sneakers, then pulled on each boot. Wiggling both feet, he looked up at Zak with bright eyes.

Zak motioned to the other box. "Go ahead," he said. "See what's in that one."

Pio opened the box. When he saw a homespun shirt, a pair of baggy blue trousers, and a small beret, his smile spread into a broad grin. Zak looked down at him and said, "You'll make a fine young shepherd at the festival."

Zak lifted the beret from the box. "Just remember, the shepherd and his beret should never part. Wear it like this--" he made a hump with the crown of the beret and plopped it on Pio's head "--and rain won't run down your nose--" he trailed a finger down Pio's nose. Pio giggled. "And in the vineyards, it's handy for holding grapes--" he whisked the beret from Pio's head, scooped up some pine cones and flopped it on his own head. The pine cones bulged. Pio and Tess laughed.

Zak shook out the cones and settled the beret on his own head and tipped it back. "If a shepherd wears it like this, he's content. If worn low on the forehead like this--" he pulled the beret down and scowled "--he's angry." He tipped the hat to one side. "Like this, he's a rogue and women should beware--" he strutted around, his chest out, a rakish grin on his face. "But, if he wears it like this--" he flattened the beret and staggered around, the hat resting flat like a pancake on top of his head "--he's drunk!" Pio broke into childish laughter. Zak swooped the hat off his head and plopped it back on Pio's, then turned to Tess, and said, "Take a look in your boxes."

Tess lifted the lid. Resting on top was a black vest with long black laces for closing the front. Beneath, she found a white blouse with billowing sleeves, and under that a black apron and a red and black skirt. She looked up at Zak, remembering how much she'd wanted just such an outfit when she was seventeen, and an excuse to wear it for him.

He touched her face, and said, "I've waited a long time for this."

Tess felt a flush. "And what do I wear on my feet? Flip flops or work boots," she teased.

"Look in the other box."

Tess opened the lid and found a pair of black dancing shoes with long black laces intended to crisscross up the legs. She looked at the clothes and smiled. For one day, she'd be Basque, and satisfy a curiosity that had haunted her for years. "When do I assume my new role?" she asked.

"When we get to
Navarre
. Pio and I will come for you around eight in the morning so we can get an early start." Zak placed his hand behind Pio's neck and led him to the truck. But when Pio looked back at Tess, the smile of moments before had faded, replaced by a glare.

And Tess wondered then if Pio believed she was trying to be the Basque woman his father was expected to marry, because even at Pio's tender age, Tess was certain that in the Jean-Pierre de Neuville household, children would learn early on that Basque married Basque. Period.

***

Zak eased the truck to a halt in the middle of the road to
Navarre
, then waited while a herd of long-haired sheep and a couple of sheepdogs crossed the highway and dashed up the embankment to the accompaniment of tinkling bells. A man wearing a beret and baggy pants, and brandishing a walking stick, followed behind them.

Zak leaned around Tess and said to Pio, who was sitting by the window, "Tell Tess in Basque what the man's holding."

Pio glared at Tess, then spat the word "
Makhilaks
."

"Oh," Tess said. She gave Pio a polite smile.

Pio pressed his mouth into a slash and smiled back. There was no smile in his eyes.

Tess couldn't decide if Pio's anger was because Zak insisted he sit by the window so he could look out, or because she was along. She suspected it was a little of both.

When they started up again, Tess stared at the road ahead, and before long, she could see the town of
Navarre
emerging in the distance. Low clouds had settled over the valley, obscuring some of the buildings in the town. Zak touched her knee lightly, then said, while pointing ahead, "If you look closely you can see the steeple of the church built by the original families who founded
Navarre
. My great-grandfather was among them."

"Is the church still in use?" Tess asked.

"Sure. Most everyone in
Navarre
attends."

The road descended, and for a couple of miles they drove through heavy fog, then shortly before entering Navarre, the fog lifted like a veil, revealing a town gleaming with moisture. They passed a sign reading WELCOME TO NAVARRE: POPULATION 2630, and within minutes they drove in front of the wooden church they'd seen from the mountain. Already the town was a hum of activity. In front of a bakery, Zak pulled to the curb and tapped his horn. A woman standing in the doorway, and dressed in a long skirt, black apron and a head scarf, looked up. Recognizing Zak, her face broke into a smile. She walked over and peered through the window and started speaking to Zak in Basque. As Zak talked, he gestured and smiled and spoke with obvious enthusiasm. Then the woman nodded to Tess, said something to Pio that made him smile, and backed away, waving.

"Who was that?" Tess asked, as they drove off.

"A neighbor," Zak replied.

Tess gave him a quizzical glance. "Doesn't she speak English?"

"She doesn't need to," Zak said. "She has no intention of leaving
Navarre
, and most of the older people here still speak Basque. To them it's important that the language be preserved, and I agree. It's unrelated to any other language, and I hope Pio passes it on to his children."

A few blocks further, Zak turned onto a tree-lined street of modest homes and parked in front of a white frame house. "We'll change here," he said. As they waited at the front door, Tess looked up and saw a sign with the words
Mata
Baita
neatly painted on a polished board. Zak saw her studying it, and said, "
Navarreans
name their houses instead of numbering them. It means
Marie lives here
." Then he gave her a half smile, and said, "It's only logical. Marie does live there."

The door opened, and a woman with long auburn hair fashioned into a braid down her back, and wearing traditional festival dress, smiled and said, "Ah Zak, we're glad you're here." She reached down to stroke Pio's dark hair.

Zak introduced Tess, and after Marie extended a warm welcome, she ushered them into the living room, where the sound of rock music reverberated through the wall. Marie banged on the closed door. "Monique!" she called.

A muffled response came from inside the room. "I know, I know." The music died.

Zak walked up to the closed door and called out, "Monique, you have a visitor."

The door swept open and a willowy young woman of about sixteen appeared. "Zak!" she squealed, before recomposing herself and leaning casually against the door frame. Her dark hair was cropped close around her face, except for a pinkish-red shock that fell over one eye. She wore a gold stud in the flare of her nostril and her lips held a cool smile. Zak eyed her cutoff shirt, snug jeans, and white boots. "Aren't you going to the festival?" he asked.

"Oh sure," she replied, shifting her gum to the other side of her mouth.

"Then you'd better get ready. They're lining up to start the snake."

"I am ready," she said.

"Come on, Monique. I know you better than that," Zak said. "You've always worn traditional dress."

"You
gotta
be kidding," Monique said. "I'd rather die first." She returned to the bedroom, shutting the door. The rock music clicked on again, this time softer.

Zak eyed Marie, who shrugged, and said, "Times are changing, Zak. We can't live their lives for them."

Marie sent Zak and Pio to the master bedroom to change, and directed Tess to Monique's room. While Tess slipped into the festival clothes, Monique sat cross-legged on the bed, watching. "Are you Basque?" she asked.

"No," Tess replied, tucking the blouse into the skirt.

"Then why are you dressing up?"

Tess slipped the vest over her blouse. "Because I want to."