Hell, Yeah (23 page)

“Is it finished?” Travis asked.

“It is. I’m hungry. Let’s go get some pizza and then head home. Want to go through the Talimena drive? It’s not as pretty this time of year as it is in the fall, but it’s a nice drive. Then we could have dinner tonight between here and home and maybe stay in a hotel,” she said.

Travis took her hand.

She winced.

“What?” he asked.

“Little finger hurts but he looks worse than me.”

Travis’s laughter rang throughout the whole building.

Sun rays filtered down through big white marshmallow clouds that hung so close to the top of the mountain that Cathy could almost touch them. To have a clear sky with no haze in February was a miracle in the Ouachita Mountains. It was an omen that everything was right in her world. She’d taken care of the Brad issue once and for all. Tomorrow he’d get the story and the pictures. She hadn’t been whistling “Dixie” out her naturally born redneck ass when she told him she would file it away for insurance. If he got another wild hair up his hind end they would help him remember what was at stake.

“So why do you like this mountain drive?” Travis stopped the truck at a scenic parking spot.

“I always imagine that it’s Montana. I’ve always thought I’d like to visit there. Never been anywhere but Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas,” Cathy said.

“Amos has had me all over the place in the past few years. You’d love Alaska, Cathy. We’ve talked about it before but I wish you could see it.”

So do I, but
… Those four words confused the hell out of her. She’d found peace in Mingus, Texas. How could she be yearning to see Alaska? It felt as if she married the Honky Tonk and thinking of leaving it was the same as cheating.

She changed the subject so she didn’t have to think about Alaska or seeing it with Travis. “Did you go to work for him right out of college?”

“No, I worked for a Tulsa-based company for a year, but then Amos offered me a good deal and I took it. Never been sorry. Someday I’d like to have my own company but that’ll be on down the road.”

“Why?”

“Why what? That I want my own company or that it’ll be on down the road?”

“Both,” she said.

“It’s expensive to start a company and when I do it means I hang up my wandering hat and settle down,” he said.

“When do you plan on doing that?”

“Not for a while,” he answered.
Not until I find a woman that turns my world upside down just like you do. And who’ll go anywhere in the world with me. Someone as beautiful as you but not tied to a damned beer joint like you are.

Thinking of Travis leaving plunged Cathy into a mood worse than what she’d experienced in the fishing shack. She’d let him get under her skin when he bulldozed his way into the Honky Tonk with that kiss. Sitting on the top of the mountain and looking down into the valley below, she realized that he’d carved a place out in her heart. The only trouble with that was that he had wings and flew all over the world; she had roots and they were grounded in the Honky Tonk in Mingus, Texas.

“You’ve gotten serious,” he said.

“My mind was drifting,” she said.

He pulled the truck back out on the road and started the descent down the mountain. “So tell me, what would you do if you could do anything in the world?”

“I’m doing it.”

“Running the Honky Tonk? Don’t you ever want to get away from it?”

“After that fishing shack back there on the bayou, I’ll just stay at the Tonk, thank you very much,” she said.

They came down out of the mountains in a tiny settlement called Page at a place where Highway 259 went north or south. Cathy had the atlas in her lap and pointed to the south.

“We’ll be home in about six hours. Not in time to open the Tonk but long before bedtime,” she said.

“Or we could be in Fort Smith in one hour.” He pointed north.

“Why would we… no, it’s not even an option.” She shook her head emphatically.

“You wanted to go to Mena and the pickup went north instead of south. Seems only fair that it does it again, don’t you think?”

“But?”

“I haven’t seen my folks in weeks and I’m this close. What would you do if it was your folks?”

She winced. Maybe his mother would be the only one at home. His sisters and father would be at work in the middle of the afternoon. It wouldn’t be a big deal to run in for an hour. If her mother was alive and she was that close, wild Missouri mules couldn’t keep her from seeing her.

“Of course not,” she said.

“Good. You’ll love Momma. She’s the rancher in the family. Dad still goes to the construction office every day but she runs the ranch. I’m going to call her and tell her we’re on the way,” he said.

He spoke briefly, never mentioning that he’d been the knight in shining pickup who’d rushed to her rescue. He just said he was in the area and had a few hours to spare. And he hung up right after he told her he was bringing someone with him so put on a pot of coffee because Cathy didn’t drink tea.

It was the longest sixty-six miles she’d ever ridden. She fidgeted with her hair and wished for her purse so she could put on a bit of makeup. Her jeans were too tight and her belt had too much bling. She should have bought the plainer boots and not spent so much on the suede coat with the sequins. His mother would think she was a glorified hooker. She saw a sign that said Fort Smith was ten miles away. How could a trip that took so long be over so quickly? Travis tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel, keeping time with one song after another from an Alan Jackson CD. How could he be happy when she felt like she was sitting in a bed of red ants? He made a few turns and then slowed down to turn left into a lane with a white fence on both sides penning in horses of every size and color.

“Momma is partial to paints but she raises all kinds,” Travis said.

Cathy didn’t answer but clasped her hands tightly.
Good Lord, woman, you are twenty-eight years old and you’ve met parents before. What are you so blasted nervous about? Loosen up. It’s one woman and it’s an hour at most. After that you can make him take you straight back to the Honky Tonk where you can hole up for the rest of your life.

He parked in front of a rambling white clapboard ranch house. Big roomy rocking chairs were scattered down the length of a wide porch. Dormant crape myrtles waited for spring in the flower beds in the circular driveway.

Momma met them at the door and Travis bent to hug her. She was a petite blonde with green eyes and she wore faded jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt.

Travis stepped to one side. “I’d like you to meet Cathy O’Dell. Cathy, this is my mother, Odessa Henry.”

Cathy extended a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“I… I’m in shock. You are so beautiful,” she said bluntly. “He’s talked so much about you on the phone but I never asked what you looked like. I just assumed you were short. I have no idea how I got that notion in my mind.”

Travis chuckled.

Cathy blushed.

“I’m sorry. Where are my manners? Come on in. Myrna has a ham in the oven. I called your sisters and your dad is on his way home. They’ll all be here in an hour and we’ll eat early. Y’all can stay the night, can’t you?”

Travis looked at Cathy. “We have to be in Mingus by tomorrow afternoon. We can have supper and a visit, but then we’d better get some miles in.”

Cathy was barely inside the house and the walls began to close in. She had an acute desire to turn around and run all the way to Mingus. She followed Odessa and Travis into the living room but every step was a chore. She was too antsy to sit so she walked over to a huge stone fireplace with glowing embers covering the north wall. Pictures of children on the mantle captured Cathy’s attention and gave her an excuse to keep from sitting down.

Odessa joined her. “Those are the children when they were little. Travis, Gwen, Rose, Emma, and Grace. Travis is the only one who got my blond hair. The girls were always jealous. Gwen and Rose keep theirs blond now, straight out of a bottle. Emma and Grace learned to live with plain old light brown hair like their father.”

“Hello! I heard the prodigal son is home.” Homer Henry’s body matched his big, booming deep voice. He met his son in the middle of the room in a bear hug. He was the same height as Travis but fifty pounds heavier. His light brown hair was cut very short and his blue eyes looked huge behind wire-rimmed glasses. Put blond curls on his head and he was Travis in thirty years.

“Dad, this is Cathy O’Dell. Cathy, this is my father, Homer.”

Cathy extended a hand and Homer shook it firmly.

“I see where Travis got his blue eyes,” she said.

“And his glasses. Neither of us can stand the idea of putting something in our eyes so we aren’t candidates for contact lenses. Dessa has to hold us both down to put eye drops in during allergy season,” Homer said.

“Don’t be givin’ away my secrets.” Travis laughed.

“It ain’t a secret. It’s a failing,” Homer said. “What brings you two to Fort Smith? Y’all out scoutin’ for new territory?”

A gray-haired lady in jeans, a red T-shirt, and an apron brought in a tray with coffee, tea, and cookies. “Come over here and give me a hug, boy. You been gone too long this time. And why didn’t you call me earlier so I coulda made you a peach cobbler? I could whip you all over the yard for sneakin’ up on me like this. How is Angel? Why didn’t you bring her along?”

Travis hugged Myrna and introduced her to Cathy. “This is our head cook and the person who keeps the house running. We couldn’t make it without Myrna.”

“Hello,” Cathy said.

“I expect you’d best make the sacrifice and hug me too, young lady. I know I’m short but you’re young and bendable,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Cathy bent low to hug the small lady.

“Now y’all don’t ruin your supper. We’ll have the last of that chocolate cake I made yesterday and ice cream for dessert, but next time you’d best be callin’ me the day before so I can make your lady think we’re somebody.”

“I will,” Travis said.

“Come sit with us. You haven’t seen him in a month either,” Odessa said.

“Maybe for a little bit. Bread is made up into rolls so I’ve got a few minutes before it goes in the oven. Miss Grace likes her hot rolls with ham and baked beans.” Myrna sat down and propped her feet on the coffee table.

Travis remembered that she’d asked about Angel so he gave them a quick rundown on her new romance with Garrett.

“So what are you doing in this area?” Homer asked.

“Let’s save that story for the supper table when everyone is here,” Travis said.

Cathy slipped out of her coat and laid it on the back of a rocking chair and joined Myrna on the sofa, but she didn’t have the nerve to prop her cowboy boots on the coffee table. And she was damn sure not telling these people that she’d just met the story of her life or the one about how their son had rescued her either. Did he want her to tell them that he was a damn fine lover and that just thinking about what he could do to her body made her break out in hives?

“Then tell me what’s goin’ on in Texas. Did you strike oil yet?” Homer asked.

Travis put two sugars and a tablespoon of cream into a cup and filled it the rest of the way with green tea. His mother did the same. Myrna poured black coffee in two cups and handed one to Homer.

“You’re not a tea drinker, are you?” she asked Cathy.

“No, black coffee, but I’ll fix it.”

“You take this one and I’ll pour myself another.” Myrna handed her the filled mug. “Me and you, we’ll get along just fine.”

Travis shook his head. “We haven’t hit the pocket yet but it’s down there. We’ve got two more weeks to bring it in and then one way or the other Amos will probably send me somewhere else. He’s got some negotiations going on in Alaska.”

“I hope you aren’t going that far!” Odessa said.

Travis patted his mother on the shoulder. “There are planes that fly out of Anchorage every day just like they do in Dallas.”

“Yes, but it’s the idea of you being halfway around the world that’s scary. Texas is far enough. Tell Amos you want to drill in our backyard,” Odessa said.

“There is no oil in our backyard,” Travis said.

“Who cares? I’ll pay you big bucks to come home and take care of the horses. Do you ride, Cathy? You can help him exercise them every day.”

“Cathy is an accountant. She works for Amos in the afternoons. I doubt she’d want to leave Mingus to come ride horses all day.” Travis laughed.

“I’m also a bartender. I own and operate the Honky Tonk beer joint. Amos was friends with the original owner, Ruby Lee. That’s how I got to know him. The accountant job is just part-time until his other lady gets back on her feet after a wreck,” Cathy said.

Myrna patted her knee. “Well halle-blessed-luyah. I thought you was another one of them fancy women that couldn’t work because they might break a fingernail. That’s the kind he usually brings home.”

“You really own a beer joint?” Odessa asked.

“I really do and your son is helping me bartend two nights a week,” Cathy said.

She figured Travis would either kick her out the door or at least shoot her a drop-graveyard-dead look but he did neither. He just winked at her and blew her a kiss behind his parents’ backs.

The sound of car doors out in the yard sent Myrna to the kitchen and Odessa and Homer to the living room. Travis crooked his finger and motioned for her to stand beside him. She started to refuse but it was his party and she did owe him big-time for the rescue and the shopping trip.

When they all trooped into the living room he had her pulled up to his side with his hand around her waist. In five minutes she’d gone from one-night stand to girlfriend. She didn’t have time to think about what all that entailed but she’d play along.

Introductions between Cathy and Emma, Grace, Rose, and Gwen were made. Emma was taller than her sisters but she still didn’t reach Cathy’s shoulder. She’d come straight from school and wore a denim jumper with a plaid shirt under it. Cathy reached out and brushed a bit of Play-Doh from her hair after shaking her hand.

“I’ve got a friend in Mingus who teaches kindergarten. She’s all the time coming home with that stuff stuck to her,” Cathy said.

Grace was the spitting image of her mother. Short, cute, and green-eyed. She wore a black power suit and high-heeled shoes.

“I’m glad you called because I’ve been starving for Myrna’s ham,” Grace said. “The only time we get invited is when the fair-haired glory man-child comes home.”

“Oh, stop it. Cathy’s not going to feel a bit sorry for any of you,” Odessa said. “All you have to do is call Myrna any day of the week and she’ll have supper on the table for you and you know it.”