Bartender's Beauty (Culpepper Cowboys Book 11) (9 page)

“Who’s that? New in town?”

He shrugged. “Not really. She’s been here for seven or eight years.”

“That’s new to me.”

“She’s a real estate agent. She has a couple of houses for us to look at.”

“Okay. When do you want to look?”

“I told her Saturday would be good.” He took a sip of his drink through the straw, making a loud slurping sound as he reached the bottom. “Does that work for you?”

She nodded. “Sounds perfect. Are you working Saturday?”

He shook his head. “I got someone to cover the weekend shifts, and starting in two weeks, I’ll be on days.”

“Oh good! That sounds perfect.” She liked the idea of their schedules being more in synch, especially as they were getting used to living together. “If you’re home in the evenings, you can cook me dinner every night.”

Austin frowned. “Didn’t you learn anything from home-ec? The woman cooks and brings the man his slippers, while he sits in a chair watching television. Stop trying to rock the boat, Dallas.”

She rolled her eyes, eating one last fry and pushing the rest toward him. “I’m stuffed.”

He took one of them, sighing dramatically. “We’ve been married forty-eight hours and already you think you can do whatever you want and order me around. It’s like you learned nothing from college.”

Dallas looked away, suddenly feeling horrible about herself. She stood and walked over to the window, looking out onto the school lawn.

“What did I say? Whatever it is, I’m sorry!”

She turned to him. “Remember the morning you came over to my house and you could hear my dad yelling?”

“Yeah. The day he died.” The day he’d had to do his best not to kill him.

“What you didn’t hear was him yelling at me that college had taken all my brain cells and turned them into fat.” Even saying the f-word to quote her dad made her feel like she was cussing. She knew it wasn’t a bad word, but it felt like one with as many times as it had been screamed at her in anger.

“You know I’d never say anything like that to you, right?” He stood up and walked over to her, pulling her into his arms. “I worry your dad messed with your head too much. I mean, we’re all a little scarred from childhood, but I think you might need to talk to a counselor or something. You get this look that tells me I’ve said something a little too close to something your dad said, and I know I’ve messed up again.”

She shook her head. “I talked to a counselor when I was in college, and it helped a lot. I guess I could try it again.”

“Maybe the new pastor Brother Anthony picked up will be doing some counseling through the church. I can’t imagine anyone going to Brother Anthony for counseling.”

She grinned. “They’d leave more messed up than they went in. I’ll look into it. As long as you know I’m happy with you. I don’t want you to think this has anything to do with our marriage.”

“I know it doesn’t. It’s all about that jerk you had for a father and all the horrible things he used to say.” He stroked his hand down her back. “I would like to see you talk to someone about it.”

“All right. If it will make
you
feel better,” she said with a grin, knowing she did have a lot to work through, even though it was different than what Austin was thinking. What she needed to work through was the enormous guilt she felt for not grieving her father. For being relieved at his death. She even had some guilt for marrying the day after his funeral.

“Oh, that’s so kind of you.” He tilted her face up to his and kissed her softly. “I need to head out, and you look like you have a lot of work to do.”

She groaned, looking at her desk. “I’m trying to plan out a year’s work of lessons for six different classes. I taught six classes every day in Cheyenne, but they were all the same class! This will be a challenge for sure, but I’m not sure I’m up to it.”

“Oh, please. If old man Javowski could teach six different classes per day, you know you can!” He helped her clean off her desk. “I’ll see you after work tonight.”

She winked at him with a smile. “I’ll make sure I get a nap.”

“You do that.”

As he walked away, Austin thought about their conversation, worrying about her. She did need to see a counselor and soon. He knew there was so much she wasn’t talking to him about, and that was fine, as long as she talked to someone. He couldn’t help worrying about her.

Dallas sat back down at her desk, pulling the calculus book toward her once more. She loved learning calculus, and playing with imaginary numbers, but she’d never had the opportunity to teach it. When she’d taken it in that very classroom all those years ago, there had only been two students in the class. If she had a roster, she would know what size of class to deal with. Teaching two students was very different than teaching thirty.

She sighed. Whatever else it was, the school year was going to be a huge challenge for her.

She picked up her phone. First things first. She found the number for the church by googling it and tapped it. Lovie, Brother Anthony’s wife, answered as she usually did. “Hi. Is the church offering counseling at this time?”

“Dallas, dear. Is this about your father or your new marriage? Because if it’s the new marriage, you should just give it some time.”

So much for trying to be discreet. Dallas should have known the older woman would recognize her voice. “It’s not about my marriage. Is there counseling?”

“Yes. The new assistant pastor, Benjamin, is going to be doing some counseling. He seems to be better suited for it than Tony.”

“Is there any way I could get in to see him?” Dallas asked.

“Of course. Could you come after church on Sunday?”

“I’ll be there.” After Dallas ended the call, she frowned. It wasn’t just the guilt about how she felt when her father died. It was the nightmares. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hide them.

Chapter Nine

Dallas woke up, sitting up straight in the bed. The dream was the same as she’d had every night since her father died. She was with Austin, and they were slow dancing in front of her father’s headstone when a hand came up out of the ground, trying to drag her down into the grave.

Her father’s words changed every night, but they always meant the same thing. She shouldn’t have married so quickly. She should have taken time to mourn him. She should miss him more and not be relieved at his death.

She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen, getting a drink of water. It had been a month since her father’s death, and the nightmares weren’t getting better. She’d thought they would by now, but they just seemed to be getting worse. She had enough on her plate being a newlywed and teaching six different classes. The nightmares had to stop.

She felt arms come around her from behind. “Are you all right?”

Setting the glass down, she turned in Austin’s arms and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Austin knew something was bothering her, and he’d known it since their wedding. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “I’m just having weird dreams. About my dad.”

He frowned. “How long have you been having them?”

“Since the day he died.” Dallas took his hand leading him into the living room and sitting close to him on the couch. Thankfully it was early Saturday morning, and neither of them had to work the next day. “The dream always starts with us slow dancing on his grave, and then he grabs my ankle and tries to pull me in with him. He berates me for not being sad when he died, for feeling relieved, and most of all for marrying you right away.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Every single night.”

Austin frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having dreams like that?”

“What could you do? I’m talking to Pastor Benjamin about them, and he’s trying to make me feel better and come to grips with things, but it’s just not working.”

“So why do you think you feel bad?” he asked. “What exactly do you think you did wrong?”

She shrugged. “He was my father. I should have loved him. It should have mattered to me that he died and was unhappy with me, but more than anything, I shouldn’t have married so quickly.”

Austin shook his head, not sure why he was surprised about the nightmares, but wishing she’d told him from the beginning. “He was your father. I think that’s the only part that you got right in everything you said. As your father it was his responsibility to help you to grow up in a way that didn’t leave you a puddle on the floor. He should have taught you about how beautiful and strong you are. He should have praised you for being so smart, but instead, he only treated you like you were put on earth to be his doormat. You realize all the fault lies in him and not in you right? You realize you’re not obligated to love a man who has treated you like excrement your entire life?”

She shrugged. “Shouldn’t I have felt something when he died? And should my first thought have been, ‘Thank you, God. He can’t hurt me anymore?’ How can that possibly be the right way to feel about someone?”

“How did you feel when your mother died?” he asked, trying to convince her from another angle.

“I cried for months. I still miss her every day. I know if she were with me, I’d be able to work through this.”

“That shows me that the fault isn’t with
you
. She was a good mother to you. I remember watching the two of you together so many times over the years and thinking what a great relationship you had. And when you lost her, you
grieved
. I remember it happened during the school year, but your dad wouldn’t let you stay home from school more than a couple of days. You came to school with bloodshot eyes every day, and you barely spoke, even to me.” He shook his head. “That’s the normal way you grieve when someone you care about dies. You’re normal. The way your father treated you was what was wrong with that relationship, not how you reacted to him.”

“But shouldn’t I have felt bad that we didn’t make amends before his death?”

“What about that letter Marcus gave you? What did he say?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t read it. I’m not sure if I ever will. I thought about burning it, because it would be cathartic, but I might regret it in a year or two.”

“Then have you thought about what you think you have to make amends
for
?” he asked. “He was dying, so you gave up your entire life to come here and take care of him. He couldn’t have asked for more.” 

“He couldn’t have asked for loyalty and respect? Those were two things I could have given freely, and I chose not to.”

“And
why
did you choose not to?” Austin gripped her hands tightly in his, hoping she would understand what he was trying to tell her.

“Because he was mean and cruel. But no matter how mean and cruel, he was still my father. I should have respected him.”

He sighed, taking her hand and getting to his feet. “I know you’re going to work through this, and you’re going to be a better person for it. You’re going to be a better mother for it.”

Dallas stood and followed him back into the bedroom, slipping under the covers with him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going through all this.”

“I can see why you didn’t. You take everything on yourself, and you always have. You probably thought it was your fault that you were having the nightmares, because you didn’t have the proper respect for your dad. And you probably thought that I would think you weren’t capable of feeling love and respect for someone.”

A tear slipped from her eye as she nodded. “You’ve always known me better than anyone.”

“Then know this. I know how deeply you can love. I know how much you respect people who deserve it. You are so much more in my eyes than you could ever be in yours. I hope you know how special you really are someday. I know I’ll tell you every single day until you start to believe it.”

She sighed, snuggling closer to him. “You’re pretty darn awesome, you know.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m just the man who knows you better than you know yourself.”

As her eyes drifted closed again, she hoped it was true. She wanted to be the woman he saw, because that woman was pretty incredible.

*****

It was a Monday in early October when Dallas got to school much earlier than usual. She had some papers to grade that she hadn’t gotten to over the weekend. She’d given a midterm exam in every class on Friday, and she’d made the mistake of putting off grading them until Sunday night. Instead Felicity had found out she was pregnant, and it seemed all of Culpepper was celebrating at her house with her, and she’d insisted her best friend did not need to be grading midterms, she needed to be there, excited for her.

As much as Dallas loved having fun with her friends that evening, she’d been happy to get home. And she’d been much too tired to stay awake grading calculus tests.

As she passed the classroom of the science teacher, a man who had just started there when she was a senior, she heard yelling. “I don’t know what your problem is! I’ve worked with you every day for over a month and you
still
don’t have them memorized! How can you be my child and be
that
stupid? It’s a good thing you’re pretty, because you’re never going to get anywhere with your mind! Get out of my sight. I don’t even want to look at you!”

Dallas closed her eyes, her breathing coming too quickly. She felt as if she’d been transported back in time. The words were different, but the meaning was clear.
You’re not good enough to be my child. You don’t deserve me for a father
.

A pretty young girl in a cheerleading uniform left the classroom, her head down, her shoulders shaking with tears. Dallas stood still for a moment, sure she hadn’t been spotted. She waited as the girl slipped into the bathroom, and then she followed her, determined to keep the girl from hating herself, because Dallas knew exactly what happened when you were yelled at that way.

She opened the bathroom door as quietly as she could, moving to stand at the sink to wait for the girl, one of her algebra students, to emerge. She could hear retching sounds coming from one of the stalls, and she wondered if the girl was so upset she threw up or if she was forcing it.

When Deirdre, the pretty blond with her short skirt and green eyes, left the stall and spotted Dallas, she stopped in her tracks. “Mrs. James.”

“Hi Deirdre.”

“How’d I do on my algebra test?” Deirdre asked with a fake smile, obviously trying to make it seem like everything was all right. She went to the sink and splashed water on her face, carefully patting it dry with a paper towel.

“I haven’t had a chance to grade them yet. I was going to do it last night, but one of my friends found out she’s having a baby, and we were all celebrating until late.”

Deirdre opened her purse and carefully started applying her make-up. “Oh, that’s great. Does she want a boy or a girl?”

“I heard what your father said to you, and I want you to know that if you need to talk, I’m here to listen. My dad sounded a lot like yours just did. I don’t want you to blame yourself.”

Deirdre stared at her for a moment, her eyes filling with tears. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Dallas nodded. “I know you don’t.” She set down the big bag of books and tests she carried and scribbled her number onto a piece of scratch paper, handing it to the girl. “If it gets worse, you have somewhere to go and a number to call. I will do anything I can to help you.” She said nothing else, instead turning to leave the restroom. She knew from experience that pushing it any further just then would only make matters worse.

She walked through the quiet halls to her classroom, bumping into Mr. Slocum, the science teacher and Deirdre’s father, when she’d almost reached her classroom. “Good morning, Mrs. James. I didn’t realize anyone else was here yet.”

Dallas smiled, refusing to let on that she had any idea what had happened. “I’m not usually here this early. I have lots of tests to grade, and I knew if I stayed home, I’d just crawl right back into bed.”

He laughed. “I can understand that. Grading papers isn’t one of my favorite tasks either.”

She walked into her classroom and closed the door, rubbing her fingers over her face. She was obligated as a teacher to report the incident, but she worried Deirdre would only deny it. She could see it in the girl’s face. Still, she’d have a conversation with the principal when she had a free period. She had no choice.

*****

“Those are some serious allegations, Dallas.” Mr. Shoemaker sat behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. “Are you sure of what you heard?”

Dallas nodded, hating that she was the one to have to report this. With her history, no one would want to believe her. “I’m positive. I talked to Deirdre in the restroom right after it happened, but she denied it.” After a quick mental debate, she told the rest of it. “When I walked into the bathroom, she was vomiting. I don’t know if she just got so upset she vomited, or what happened. She may need to see a professional.”

Mr. Shoemaker nodded. “Are you sure you’re not seeing something that’s not there?” He held up a hand, knowing she’d become upset. “I have to ask. Most people in town were aware of how your father treated you years ago, and I’m afraid it will be questioned.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, before nodding. “I’m positive. If you think about it, I’m going to be the person who will spot that type of abuse better than any other. Don’t you think?” She opened her eyes and looked straight at the principal. “I just wish someone had done the same for me.”

“I can certainly understand your reasoning.” He stood up, offering his hand to Dallas. “Thank you for coming to see me. I’ll do what needs to be done from here.”

Dallas slipped back into her classroom, dreading her sixth period algebra class. She didn’t want Deirdre to be there, because she didn’t want to see the girl’s accusing eyes, but she wanted her to be there, so she’d know the girl was all right. She took a deep breath and smiled as Austin slipped into her classroom, lunch in hand. “I saw you forgot your lunch on the counter this morning, so I brought it to you.”

She got up without a word and walked into his arms, clinging to him tightly. She couldn’t tell him what had happened, because it was against the law, but she had to feel his strength.

Austin didn’t know what was happening, but he did know she needed him. He wrapped both arms around her, the lunch box containing her sandwich still clutched in his hand. “Rough day?” he asked after a minute.

She nodded. “The roughest in a long time.” She swiped the tears from under her eyes as she pulled back. “Thank you for bringing me my lunch.”

“Happy to do it. How much time do you have left in your free period?”

She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Five minutes and this room will be filled with students who are not all that eager to learn geometry.”

He flinched as if she’d struck him. “Geometry? Who can blame them! Please tie me to a tree and whip me with a cat-o-nine-tails instead!”

She laughed. “Some people don’t consider all math to be different forms of hideous torture.”