The Great Jackalope Stampede (5 page)

“Naked,” Manny added to the end of Mac’s sentence and then nudged Chester, who snickered along with him.

Naked would be great, but Mac wasn’t about to say that aloud and risk getting the jokes rolling about his and Claire’s sex life. He’d had enough ribbing over the last few months to last the rest of his days.

The gravel crunched behind him. He turned, hoping to see Claire, and ended up frowning at her older sister instead. When had she gotten her hair cut? With it brown now instead of blonde, he could see her resemblance to Claire even more. Only Claire was curvier, softer on the edges, whereas Ronnie seemed skinnier, her collarbone showing more than before.

“Hey, Mac.” Ronnie shot a worried-looking smile at him, and then focused on her grandfather. “Gramps, Mom is looking for you.”

Harley grunted and swore under his breath. Mac couldn’t agree more.

“Where is Claire?” she asked Mac.

“That’s the question of the hour,” Manny said.

“She and Natalie went to Yuccaville to get another drill,” Gramps answered. “Natalie’s died this morning.”

“It took both of them to go get another drill?” Ronnie’s voice held a dollop of disbelief. “I don’t think so. Claire’s just avoiding Mom.”

Mac couldn’t blame Claire, but damn it, he had been hoping she’d be here and feel like rewarding him for his pain and suffering. Alone. Some place where these cigar-smoking nosy Nellies and any other family members wouldn’t hear them.

Harley struggled to grab his crutches, batting away Ronnie’s attempt to help him. “I don’t know why your mom’s so bent on seeing me.”

“She expects you to help her get settled in.”

“What’s to settle? She’s sleeping with you.”

“No, she’s not.” Ronnie crossed her arms.

“Where is she going to sleep then?” Harley scooted to the edge of his seat. “In a tent? I don’t think so.”

“She can sleep in my rig,” Manny offered.

“You keep your mind and paws off my daughter, Carrera. The signatures are still wet on her divorce papers. She doesn’t need you messing with her head.”

“I’d offer my couch,” Chester said, “but she’ll scare off those two matching archaeologist babes. They’re coming over later to take a look at an ‘old bone’ in my bedroom.” His bushy eyebrows wiggled at the same time his fingers made invisible quote marks in the air.

Mac had to smile at Chester’s gumption. Storm or not, the old vet was always determined to find a port.

“Mom is sleeping in the spare room,” Ronnie said. “I’ll bunk in the R.V. with Claire.”

Harley grimaced. “I don’t think Claire is going to be happy about that.”

“Claire’s not the only one,” Mac said.

Ronnie’s chin lifted. “I’m
not
sleeping in the spare room with that woman.”

Her stubborn reaction seemed over the top. What was her beef with her mom? Ronnie had been acting more and more peculiar over the last couple of weeks. When Mac had asked Claire about it, she’d shrugged as if it were no big deal, muttering something about Ronnie having a history of temporary insanity. That was all the more reason to get her out from under Mac’s roof sooner rather than later.

“Claire’s happiness is not my concern at the moment. I’m sleeping in the Skunkmobile.” Ronnie pointed at Mac. “And you can live a few more days without having sex with my sister.”

“A lack of blood flow can make a man’s willy fall right off,” Chester said. “I’m sure I read that somewhere.”

Manny nodded in agreement.

“Where’s Mac going to sleep then?” Gramps asked, shooting Mac another glare. “The rec room?”

Forget it. Between Deborah’s festering presence and Harley’s grumpy bear song and dance, Mac would rather sleep out under the stars with the snakes and porcupines.

“He can sleep with Chester or Manny.” Ronnie said as if she’d just solved the problem, end of story.

No, absolutely not. Cuddling up with a
javelina
sounded more appealing.

“I don’t think my bed’s big enough for both of us.” Manny grinned at Mac. “Unless you like spooning.”

Mac shuddered. There wasn’t enough whiskey at The Shaft to make him even consider spooning with Manny. “No thanks, I prefer the fork.”

“I’ll sleep on the table bed in Harley’s R.V.”

“I don’t like you sharing an R.V. with three of my granddaughters. It’s bad enough you already snookered one of them without putting a ring on her finger.”

Hold up just one damned second. First of all, he’d been sharing his house with two of them for over a month. Second, it was Claire who had “schnookered” him, not the other way around. Third, she was the one who still stuttered every time any talk of
love
came up. Mac didn’t even dare breathe the word
marriage
.

Chester slapped his hand on the aluminum arm of his lawn chair. “That settles it then, Mac. You and I will have a stag weekend in my pimp mobile.”

“I don’t—” Mac started.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Harley crutched over to the golf cart he’d bought a month ago to get around the R.V. park.

That settled nothing. Mac had taken care of his aunt long before any of these people had shown up here; didn’t seniority count for anything? He was tempted to crawl into his pickup and head back to Tucson. He shot Ronnie a glare of frustration.

Sorry
, Ronnie mouthed to him before crawling behind the wheel and driving Harley toward the store.

Chester joined Mac, holding out a beer. “I hope you don’t mind a little cigar smoke in the morning.”

Manny joined them, clapping Mac on the shoulder. “Some time away from Claire will do you good,
hombre
. I hear you two are having some trouble in the bedroom. Good ol’ Chester and Manny have just the fix for you.”

* * *

The women’s bathroom in The Shaft smelled like sex and men’s cologne, all musty with a hint of something spicy. Claire checked under the stall doors to make sure she hadn’t caught anyone in the act of a little commode nookie. Nope, all clear. Maybe Butch had decided to try a new air freshener.

She stepped into the third stall. Locking the door behind her, she lowered her pants and cursed. Aunt Flo hadn’t arrived yet for her monthly visit, and Claire was now two days late.

Two days was nothing, she told herself. The stress alone of dealing with Gramps barking at her, as well as her mom coming to town, was probably enough to interrupt her cycle for months, even years. Add that to her middle of the night worries about the possible thieves wandering around the R.V. park pretending to be part of the archeological crew. With that gold pocket watch still tucked away in the wall safe in Ruby’s office, and lord knew what other pricey antiques stashed around the house that Joe had skimmed during his black-market romps, Ruby and Gramps were sitting ducks for the kind of strangers who shot first and interrogated later.

Take those two cowboys sitting at the corner table across from the bar. They’d been watching Ronnie a little too intently for the last hour. Now if Natalie had been the focus of their attention, Claire wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Nat inspired love-sick looks with her long legs and full lips, especially from drunk cowboys. But Nat had gone back to the R.V. park over an hour ago, before the two had shown up.

Zipping her pants, she ignored the twinge of pain in her lower back that had come from spending too much time bent over on a roof. Yeah, it had to be the stress, mental and physical. With her luck, her period would probably show up about the time she finally got a moment alone with Mac.

She flushed the toilet and headed to the sink, looking past her reflection at the tampon machine on the wall. It mocked her with its two twist-knob eyeballs and slot mouth. The door next to it swung open.

Her younger sister, Kate, burst in, squawking in surprise at the sight of Claire. “What are you doing in here?”

With her wavy blonde hair escaping her pony tail, her face drawn and pale, and her blue eyes underlined with dark half-circles, Kate looked about a decade older than her almost thirty-two years tonight.

“Call me kooky, but I came in here to pee.” Claire squirted soap on her palm. “What else would I be doing in here, nut-job?”

“Why does it smell like sex? Is Mac in here?” Kate walked over to the stalls and slammed one door open after another. “I told you The Shaft is off limits from now on, especially the parking lot. I swear you two are like rabbits sometimes.”

Bristling, Claire dried her hands on a paper towel while glaring at her sister’s profile. Kate had been working at The Shaft for a little over a month as a bar waitress. So what if she was sleeping with Butch. Shacking up with the guy didn’t give her the right to act like she owned the place.

“No, Mac is not in here. And for the record, we were only kissing in his pickup that night, not doing the wild thing.” It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t get a whiff of privacy with Mac these days thanks to Ronnie and everyone else south of the Canadian border. A girl had needs, and cigarettes and MoonPies didn’t always fulfill them all.

“That’s not what Manny and Chester told me.”

Claire didn’t justify that with a response. “What’s wrong with you tonight, Kate? You’ve been stomping around with this sourpuss pinch on your face and acting like somebody broke your favorite flying broomstick. Did you forget to add some eye of newt into your boiling cauldron this morning?”

Kate stepped into a stall. The lock rattled closed. “I’m tired.”

“Tell Butch to give you a night off.”

“I need the money.”

“You’re sleeping with your boss in his big fancy house.”

“Not anymore.”

Claire cocked her head at the closed stall door. “What does that mean?”

“I’m coming back to the R.V. park.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Butch and I had a fight this morning.”

“So make up tonight and stay where you are. There’s no room for you now that Mom’s here.”

“I’ll stay in the Skunkmobile with you and Natalie.”

“Nope. The inn’s full. Ronnie’s staying there, too.”

The toilet flushed. Kate joined her in front of the mirror, frowning at her reflection before her gaze moved to Claire. “Why isn’t she sleeping with Mom?”

“She’s mad at Mommy Dearest.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, you both are being absurd about Mother. She may be a little bitter and hard to stomach, but she’s still our mom.”

“Fine, then you sleep with
your
mom in the spare room.”

Kate broke eye contact, focusing on washing her hands. “I can’t.” She shut off the water.

“Can’t or won’t?”

Kate fixed her ponytail. “Maybe I’ll crash on Chester’s couch.”

“Ronnie told me Mac is sleeping there.” Much to Claire’s frustration. Maybe she could sneak over there in the middle of the night when Chester was buzz-sawing logs in his sleep and snuggle up next to Mac’s warm body. “You could share Manny’s bed.”

“I’d sooner sleep in a tent. Does Ruby have any spare ones?”

“You’re being silly. Just tell Butch you’re sorry and stay at his place where you belong.”

“What do you know about where I belong? You can’t even commit to staying with Mac—where you belong.”

Claire gaped at her sister. “Don’t be turning this around and taking it out on me.”

“Fine.” Kate nudged Claire out of the way. “But I’m not staying with Butch. We need a break.”

Claire grabbed Kate as her sister pulled open the door. “What are you talking about? You two are gaga over each other. I’ve watched you watch him. You look like Elmer Fudd does when Bugs Bunny slaps on red lipstick and a blonde wig.”

“Yeah, well I’m not so sure that feeling is mutual.”

“It’s only been a month.”

“It’s been five weeks since we got together.” Kate drilled Claire with a frown. “If it’s true love, shouldn’t that be enough?” When Claire hesitated, Kate pulled free. “What am I thinking asking the biggest commitment phobe east of the Rockies about love?”

“The Rockies are mostly north of us, Kate.”

“Whatever. You wouldn’t understand. You’ve been with Mac for six months and still break into hives when someone even mentions wedding rings.” She rubbed her hand over her forehead. “I gotta get back to work.”

Claire followed Kate out of the bathroom. “I suppose you could sleep in Jess’s room with her, but she’ll keep you up all night talking about boys and snogging.”

“I’ll figure something out.” Kate grabbed the wall for a moment, holding her stomach. “Oy.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Kate waved her off. “I ate some fried mushrooms earlier that are now rioting in my gut.”

“Why don’t you take a seat over in my chair and let me play barmaid for a bit.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Claire took the order pad and pen from Kate’s little apron. “Stop acting like Gramps and go sit down.”

After nudging Kate toward the table she’d been sharing with Ronnie, Claire made her way closer to the corner table where the two lookie-loo cowpokes still watched Ronnie. She had a nose for strangers in these parts, and with their pristine cowboy hats and shiny boots, they smelled plenty fishy.

She followed their line of sight. Ronnie seemed to be oblivious to their stares, which wasn’t surprising. Ever since her sister had come home from her shopping trip in Yuccaville yesterday, she’d had the attention span of a gnat. Something was up with Ronnie, and maybe it had something to do with these two slicksters.

Claire strolled up to their table, blocking their view of her older sister, who’d been joined by Kate. “Do either of you two need something?” she yelled over Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash singing on the jukebox about the lack of good in an evil-hearted woman.

Two freshly-shaven faces looked up at her, both smiling too wide too fast.

“We’re good,” said the one wearing the fancy brown Stetson hat.

“Not right now,” said the other, pulling his dust-free, black Stetson lower over his light blue eyes.

“Great.” She stuffed the order pad in the back pocket of her blue jeans and crossed her arms over her T-shirt. “Then maybe you can tell me why you’re so damned interested in my sister?”

Chapter Four