Love Drunk Cowboy (24 page)

That thought almost put a damper on her mood but she quickly put it out of her mind. She still had Saturday and until noon Sunday.

“Let me,” Rye said. “It’ll remind you of us at your first rattlesnake festival.”

“Thank you but I think I’ll remember tonight forever.”

I don’t want to leave,
she admitted to herself silently.

He removed the sticker price tag on the back of the crossed guns and paid the lady and they continued on down the block, hand in hand. Little children were riding ponies in a circular pen not far from the courthouse. They passed hair bow vendors that made Austin’s biological clock set up a loud tick wanting a daughter so she could put big fancy satin bows in her hair.

Now where in the hell did that idea come from? I’ve never thought about children. Barely even gave the idea of a husband a second thought. It’s this place and all this family around me.

The next vendor sold sunglasses. To take her mind off the pretty pink satin bows she tried on big buggy orange glasses that made Rye laugh out loud.

She loved his deep laugh. It reminded her of her father’s laugh when he was really tickled and not just chuckling at a joke. The last time she’d heard him laugh like that had been the day before he died. She couldn’t even remember what had amused him but something had sure set him off and it was her last memory of him.

When they reached the Ferris wheel the line was short and the previous riders were getting out of their seats. Rye looked at her and she nodded. He handed the man the money and suddenly they were side by side in the rocking seat. She grabbed Rye’s hand when the caretaker pushed the button and the wheel creaked to life. At the very top she could see a swarm of people milling about at the festival. Did they look forward to this all year? Was this their big event of the spring?

Rye let go of her hand, slung his arm around her shoulder, and picked up her hand with his left one. “So what do you think, Miss Austin Lanier?”

“I love it. I might come back to Terral every summer just to do this. Look over there. You can see forever in this flat country.”

When they reached the top he kissed her with so much passion that she could’ve sworn several stars melted and fell from the sky.

His voice was husky when he said, “Grows good cattle and watermelons. Hell on wheels when it comes to tornadoes. There’s nothing but mesquite and scrub oak to stop them and they don’t stand up too hot under that kind of wind.”

“There isn’t much that could stand up under a tornado. I’ve seen them uproot pecan trees that were three feet across the base,” she said.

And those big major class-five storms were nothing compared to the storm I’ve had in my heart since I came to Terral.

A helium balloon with ribbons tied to the end floated up so close to them that Austin reached out to grab it and rocked the seat even more. If the belt hadn’t held her tight she might have gotten a hold on the ribbon but it was just inches beyond her grasp. The wind carried a little girl’s wails and Austin looked down to see a mother taking a little red-haired girl back to the vendor for another balloon. This time the mother tied it firmly to her wrist and the child bounced around happily.

“It doesn’t take much to excite a child, does it?” Rye said.

“Nor an adult woman who’s never been to a local festival. Thank you for bringing me, Rye. I love it!”

She smiled at him and he returned the favor, their eyes melting the distance between them and their lips brushing in a sweet kiss as the ride came to an end.

“Now I want to go eat one of those fried pickles. They sound absolutely horrid.”

He laughed and kept her hand in his as they stepped off the Ferris wheel platform. “And you want to eat one.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve got a friend in Tulsa who’ll never believe it when I tell her I ate fried pickles and rattlesnake.”

Rye’s mood changed instantly.

Austin had no idea what she’d said that chilled the evening. They went to the pickle stand and she was amazed at the flavor of dill pickle rolled in batter and deep fried. It was so good she wished she hadn’t eaten the gyro. She could get those in Tulsa any old time but she didn’t know of a single place where she could buy a fried pickle.

He led her to the rattlesnake pens and she shivered at the sight of long diamond back rattlers shaking their tails and standing up, looking at her with their beady little eyes.

“They look evil,” she whispered.

He let go of her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not so much. They’re just snakes.”

She wanted to bury her face in his chest but his pretty green eyes were veiled and she couldn’t see inside his soul anymore. She popped both hands on her hips and stepped right up into his face. “What’s wrong with you? And don’t be all chivalrous and tell me nothing because there is something wrong. You went silent and your jaws are working like you are chewing gum but you aren’t. I know anger when I see it.”

“Is this just a go-to-the-boondocks and go-home-and-laugh-about-it thing, Austin?”

She met him glare for glare. “What in the hell makes you think that?”

“You said that you wanted to eat awful fried pickles so you could go brag about it to your friend.”

She took a step back. “And you got that boondocks shit out of that sentence?”

“Well?”

“That’s a deep subject for such a shallow mind.”

“Very funny. What did you mean by your comment?”

“I’m having a wonderful evening. I can’t wait to go home and brag about it to my co-workers because they were all giving me shit about having to spend my vacation in the boonies. So yes, I want to go back and brag and say that they were wrong and that I’ve had the time of my life. And you aren’t going to spoil my evening by reading wrong into what I said. I’ve loved this date and you can pout if you want but I’m going to have a good time. So where to next?” The gut that was never wrong said that Rye was a cowboy worth fighting for and with.

“I’m not pouting. Men don’t pout.”

“Bullshit is bullshit. You can call it rose petals and put perfume on it but it will still be bullshit.”

He chuckled. The anger left his eyes and he dropped his arms. “I can’t believe you even know what bullshit is.”

She took two steps forward and laced her fingers in his. “Granny had a hog lot and a pasture with steers for slaughter. I know very well what it is. I’ve stepped in it, had to wipe it off my shoes with a stick, and I’ve smelled it. And my sexy cowboy neighbor has bulls. When they shit in the pasture the wind whips it across the road and I get a fresh smell. And you were pouting so don’t change the subject.”

The chuckle turned into laughter. “You are cute when you are mad. Your blue eyes flash.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, the only thing that cures mad is more food. Now where is this rattlesnake?”

“How much can you eat? And I happen to know something else that cures mad.”

“But you can’t do it in the middle of a festival, can you? I want a plateful of rattlesnake and then I want a funnel cake when we pass that booth.”

The grin stayed plastered to his face and his eyes twinkled again. “You don’t have funnel cakes in rich-cat world?”

She pointed at him with her free hand. “That is enough.”

He liked the way the other men looked at him with envy in their eyes when he walked down the sidewalks with Austin’s fingers laced in his. He was suddenly ten feet tall and bulletproof and his chest was as big as King Kong’s. But she wouldn’t be staying and it wrecked his whole imaginary world. She’d said it was a great date. Maybe he’d beat out those hotshot corporate fellers’ time yet. If only he hadn’t had to be gone so much of the time she was there he might have convinced her to stay.

She smiled back. “All settled then. Let’s eat snake. And that is a sentence I never thought I’d say in my lifetime.”

Her cell phone rang and she dug it out of her hip pocket without letting go of his hand. “Hello.”

“Austin? Where are you? I hear horrible music in the background. Do you have the radio on the country music station?”

“I’m at the rattlesnake festival in Waurika with Rye. He’s buying us some snake to taste. We’ve already tasted wine and it wasn’t as good as Granny’s watermelon wine, but the gyros were wonderful and you should try a fried pickle. It’s hot and crispy and dilly. Reckon you could get our cook to make them? Wait just a minute.” She reluctantly unlaced her fingers from his and motioned for him to bring a plate of snake over to her.

There wasn’t a line so he paid for a plate and turned around to find her right behind him. She picked up a chunk of snake and popped it into her mouth.

“God, this is good! Mother, you should fly down here tomorrow and we’ll come back tomorrow night so you can eat some of this stuff. It puts shrimp to shame.”

Barbara gasped. “They
are
making a redneck out of you!”

“I’m afraid they are, Mother.”

Barbara’s voice went from shrill enough to call feral dogs down from the Canadian border to flatter than the Oklahoma countryside in Terral. “Leave it down there when you come home. It has no place in your field.”

“It has a big place in my watermelon field. Oh, you meant my job in Tulsa field. I thought about dirt and you were talking about broad spectrum. Mother, you really should take a weekend and come down here so you can taste this and a fried pickle.”

“No, thank you. I don’t ever intend to set foot in that backwoods place again. Haven’t been there since you were a baby. If I’d had my way, you wouldn’t have ever gone down there either. Verline could have come off her high horse and come to Tulsa if she wanted to see you and her son.”

“I’m going now. We’re going to ride in the tea cups like little kids.” She was having way too much fun to let Barbara spoil it.

“We are?” Rye asked.

She shoved the phone into her pocket. “Yes, we are. I saw them on television when I was a kid and always wanted to ride in them and on the ponies of a carousel. I don’t see a carousel so it’ll have to be the tea cups.”

“Then tea cups it is.”

He’d stand on his head and spin around if it would keep her in Terral.

The line was a little longer than it had been at the Ferris wheel. The cups were filled to capacity, and about halfway through the ride Rye and Austin took their place at the end of a row of a dozen mothers waiting with rambunctious preschoolers.

“Why are they looking at me funny?” Austin whispered to Rye.

“They’re looking for your kids.”

“Can’t adults ride?”

“Yes, but those with reasonable intelligence don’t usually.”

“You know any of these people?”

“About half of them. Why?”

“Is it going to embarrass you to ride kiddy rides?” she asked.

“Not if I can ride beside you.”

The mother in front of them with two little girls who wouldn’t be still finally said, “You’d better enjoy this because as soon as it’s over we are going home. I’m tired of your fighting and arguing.”

“That’s probably why I never went to a carnival. Mother would have been crazy with boredom in fifteen minutes,” Austin whispered.

“Really? I can’t remember a year when we didn’t come to the snake festival. Daddy even had a booth selling tack for several years. Handmade bridles and usually at least one hand-tooled saddle. They’re probably here tonight but I haven’t seen them.”

“Haven’t seen who?” Maddie asked from a few feet away.

Rye nodded at his mother. “Hello, Momma. I was just telling Austin that we came to this thing every year. I can’t remember ever missing a snake festival except the year I had chicken pox and had to stay home.”

Maddie touched Austin’s arm. “Hi, Austin. That year he pouted like a bitchy little girl for a week. Then the other kids came down with the pox and he got to go with his dad to the Mesquite rodeo and they all had to stay home. So don’t let him make you feel all sorry for him. This your first time at this thing?”

Austin nodded.

Maddie was dressed in tight jeans, pink cowboy boots, and a pink shirt with a western cut yoke of white lace. Her hair was dressed high on her head and held there with a comb shaped like a horseshoe. “Rye, have you seen Gemma? I thought she might come over tonight but I haven’t seen her and can’t raise her on the phone. I’m getting worried. She usually returns my calls in an hour.”

Austin felt the blush creeping from her neck to her cheeks. She couldn’t say anything but she wanted to relieve Maddie’s worries so bad she had to bite her tongue to keep silent.

“Gemma’s probably out with her friends. They may be up at the casino pestering Colleen,” Rye said.

Maddie shook her head. “No, I called Colleen and she hasn’t seen her either.”

“I’m sure she’ll call you soon,” Austin said.

Her brow furrowed in a frown. “A mother worries no matter how old or young they are. Why are you in this line?”

“Austin never has ridden the cups and…” Rye shrugged.

“How did you talk him into riddin’ a kiddy ride? Damn! I wish I had my camera. Gemma won’t ever believe it without proof. Y’all comin’ around for Sunday dinner? I had a mind to break a couple of horses in the afternoon. Raylen says he’s better at it than Rye, but Rye has a touch with them.”

“You tell Raylen to put his spurs on and we’ll see who can do the job best,” Rye said.

“Sibling rivalry! It’s very useful,” Maddie whispered when she hugged Austin.

“I’ll tell him and you be sure to bring Austin along. Strawberries are ready this week. You like shortcake?”

“I do,” Rye said.

Maddie patted him on the back. “I wasn’t askin’ you, son. I know you can eat your weight in shortcake.”

Austin’s blue eyes were big as the full moon hanging right above the Ferris wheel. “That’s a bunch of strawberries. But yes, ma’am, I love shortcake.”

“Good. I’m off to find your father. I was seeing if there was any snake left when I saw y’all over here.”

Maddie had disappeared into the crowd when Austin remembered that she’d be driving toward Tulsa on Sunday afternoon. Suddenly, she began to crave strawberry shortcake.

The ride stopped and all the children were turned loose, then the vendor started filling up the big cups again. When Rye and Austin stepped forward to claim the last two seats he looked around for children.