Chief Cook and Bottle Washer (12 page)

"What kind of dance is it?" The middle aged
saleslady asked.

"A country dance. She needs something
pretty."

"I see. Okay. You look like a size 3 or 5 to
me. Let's see what we have. Would you like to try it on?"

"Yes, I guess so." Emma nodded.

"There's a chair over in the corner by the
mirror, if you'd like to wait, for her." The lady smiled at
Deke.

"Sure."

"Uh–why don't you go get your supplies?" Emma
suggested.

"That's okay, we can do that later," Deke
insisted.

Emma seemed uncomfortable with him staying,
but he was determined to set his plans into action tonight, before
he made a bigger jackass of himself.

He waited and watched as Emma tried on
several dresses. Some were much too sophisticated for the dance,
but they looked great on her. He liked them all, and was sure that
once Clint saw her dressed like this, he'd forget all about his
broken heart.

After nearly an hour of trying on dresses,
Emma finally modeled one that struck Deke as perfect. It was a dark
blue sundress with big white flowers on the flared skirt, squared
off at the neck and low in the back.

"I don't think this one is right," Emma
protested as she checked the price tag.

Deke's eyes were on the dress, and her. "It's
perfect, look at yourself Emma, you're beautiful."

Emma turned around and around. That's when
Deke realized her expression was worth every penny of it. Hadn't
she ever heard the words? What kind of fool men had she been raised
with?

"It's lovely, really," the lady said and
smiled at Deke.

Emma thanked her and Deke too as they left
the store.

She was so tied up in knots he knew she'd
never settle down unless he changed the subject.

"Let's go find me a decent shirt and
tie."

"Okay," Emma agreed happily.

The men's shop where Cal Travers traded was
more western, but Deke had little trouble locating his kind of
clothes. He picked out a couple of shirts, and even asked her
opinion, then she shyly handed him a bolero tie. He nodded with a
smile.

Feeling a little awkward himself, Deke
blurted out, "So, did you buy your husband's clothes a lot?"

"We weren't married," Emma responded
woodenly.

Deke had the sinking feeling he'd opened a
can of worms. He frowned. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried. Say,
let's go get the baby a pair of boots and then go eat."

"Okay. I'm starved."

"Me too," he added, but not for food. He was
hungry for more information about Emma. This beautiful young woman
had obviously had a rough life, and he suddenly wished there was
more he could do to make things easier for her and Sammie Jo.

His mind kept filtering back to how Emma had
looked in that dress and he was having difficulty walking, just
thinking about it. Clint would love it. And why that indigestion
was bothering him again, he didn't know.

"What do you feel like eating, Emma?" he
asked as they set the new pair of red cowboy boots in the
floorboard of the truck.

"You promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise."

"A hamburger. A greasy spoon hamburger loaded
with everything, and big french fries smothered in ketchup."

"I'd have never guessed. I'm kind of fond of
them myself, and I know a little place that makes the best
home-made hamburgers in town. Wanta try it?"

"Sounds great. I miss them sometimes because
I rarely cook them myself. And I rarely eat out."

"Oh, I'd think you'd have a lot of men
wanting to buy you dinner."

"Afraid not. I didn't date much at home.
Probably wouldn't have dated Charlie if he hadn't been such a good
friend of Jesse's."

"Are you sure you're over this Charlie? You
sure talk about him a lot."

"I'm sure. Why?"

"You don't talk about the baby's father as
much as you do Charlie. Was he just some spur of the moment
romance?"

"I didn't know him as well, I guess."

In less than thirty minutes they were parked
under an awning of a fifties style drive-in and munching inside the
truck on a juicy hamburger, french fries and milk shakes.

"How come you don't wear dresses Emma?" Deke
asked biting into his burger and trying not to look at her. He knew
she was probably embarrassed. He knew it wasn't his business, but
he really wanted to know more about her.

He had blurted that out, too. God, he had no
class. But how was he ever going to find out anything about this
woman if he didn't ask?

"My dad always treated me like one of the
boys. He didn't know how to handle a girl. He could never have
taken me in a shop and bought me a dress like you did. He'd die of
embarrassment. I think part of his problem was that my mother died
on him. He just couldn't handle women from then on. I think it must
have been very painful for him. He never talked about it
though."

"You have a very understanding and forgiving
nature, Emma. Most girls would be bitter, hurt even. You don't even
talk down this Joel character, I have to admire you for that."

"My brothers made up for a lot. They were
protective of me, and fun for me. Besides, they all told me that it
was a rough old world out there and I better figure on it."

"You are really something. It's a wonder you
survived. It's a wonder you aren't a little mixed up, because of
your father's attitude."

"What can I say, he was my dad. You don't
choose your parents. You live with them. I didn't always enjoy
living like that. I guess when I was little I had my share of hurt
feelings. But it toughened me. But a woman around would have been
nice. Especially in my teens. With three older brothers I got my
share of teasing. It was awkward. There were things I had to ask my
friends to buy for me and my cousin Kate."

"I'm sorry Emma. At least now I understand. I
just thought you were trying to hide something. Last girl I dated,
she was nice, real nice, and real married. Just can't tolerate a
liar."

When a silence ensued he picked the
conversation again. "What about your husband, did he buy dresses
for you? I mean your–boyfriend."

"No, he didn't buy anything for me. We
weren't married. And I'd like to tell you . . . ."

Just then someone Deke knew stopped by and
Deke rolled down his window and started talking to him. It was a
lengthy conversation and Emma sat very quietly against the door
jam, like a frightened rabbit. Deke introduced her of course but
she remained quiet.

When the man left, Deke turned to her.
"Sorry, just an old high school friend. Well, I guess we better be
getting back. The dance starts pretty early."

"What about your supplies? You didn't really
have any supplies to pick up, did you. You did this just for me!"
Emma shook her head and smiled at him. "I hope I don't embarrass
you or make a fool of myself. I really don't know how to dance that
well."

"I'll tell you a secret, I don't either. Half
the people there don't. Hell we are all country people Emma. Nobody
there is gonna look at what your feet are doing. What I'm trying to
tell you is–who cares? We just like to let lose and have a little
fun."

Emma laughed, a heady sound to Deke. Deke
reached over and wiped a tiny spot of mustard off her mouth and
Emma seemed to freeze.

He backed off, turned the ignition on and
backed the truck out of the parking lot before he did what he'd
been wanting to do all afternoon. Because what he wanted to do–what
he knew he shouldn't be wanting to do–was kiss Emma over and over
and over.

The silence in the cab of the truck thickened
with every passing fence post. Emma wrung her hands, wishing she
could still bite her fingernails and look composed.

"You're worried about the stock, aren't you?"
Emma asked unable to keep silent any longer, and watching his
expression change dramatically. She shouldn't have agreed to come
to the dance, what with Jake announcing that more cattle were sick.
Guilt riddled her. She should be home with Sammie Jo.

Deke's fingers tensed on the steering column,
his forehead creasing. "A little. With more cattle coming down
sick, it means it might not be the grain. It might be the
water."

"The water?" Emma gasped.

"Yeah, we haven't had rain in over a month,
it's been a hundred or over, every day, the water around here is
stagnant. Enough to poison a herd." Deke replied.

"I never dreamed." Emma stared at him. "What
are you gonna do?"

"Test the area we've been watering in and
move them to a safer one. If it's true it'll go before the
Cattlemen's Association for further discussions and actions. We'll
have to have the authorities out here and check it but I'm pretty
sure what they'll find." Deke's voice sounded hollow, worry lines
crowded his smooth forehead.

"Maybe we shouldn't go to the dance. It's not
necessary on my account. I didn't realize what was going on when
Jake came in this evening, I only knew it had to be serious by the
look on his face."

"No need you worrying about it Emma. Nothing
we can do about it tonight. I'll talk with some of the other
ranchers, see what's going on with them."

"Why don't we just turn around," Emma began,
her worry multiplying with the seconds that ticked by. His mind was
on the ranch, hers on Sammie Jo, this wasn't right. The entire day
hadn't been right for that matter. What with that kiss that sizzled
her brain, she wasn't thinking straight. She didn't want to be
responsible for him losing time he needed at the ranch. She
remembered how Frank and her brothers had fretted over every little
detail of ranch problems while carrying out their responsibilities
to her. She felt a burden.

"Emma," Deke reached for her hand almost on
reflex. "Stop fretting. It's all right. We'll go to the dance,
you'll have a good time, meet some neighbors, and I'll talk to some
of the other ranchers there. Maybe someone there has some
ideas."

Emma tried to ignore the electrical charge
that ran through her from Deke's touch. She wondered if he felt
anything, or if he was merely being kind. She couldn't tell from
the hooded glances he'd been giving her. Ignoring the pounding of
her own heart, her eyes landed on his hand, and he moved it
slowly.

"I knew this was all wrong from the
beginning," Emma cried out. "I never should have gone into
Sweetwater for a new dress. I should have spent that money on
Sammie Jo. I don't know what came over me, I'm usually not that
self-indulgent."

"Feeling guilty?" Deke questioned, his glance
taking her in with one swoop of his long dark lashes. Emma wondered
how a man's lashes could be so long, so dramatic and still belong
to a man.

"A little, yes." She saw his sardonic look.
"Okay, a lot."

His eyes swept her approvingly, a slow
burning smile spreading over his handsome face. Damn, why did this
particular cowboy have to have such an effect on her? "Don't be,
Emma, it was worth it."

A momentary bubble of elation jolted her
awareness, even though she tried to squash it. A compliment she
wouldn't soon forget, she decided as he gave her a quick wink. He
had kissed her this afternoon, reassured her just now with a touch
of his hand, and now this beautiful compliment, how could the
evening get any better?

After another short silence, she admitted it.
"I've never left Sammie Jo at night before. Maybe that accounts for
my nerves."

"You're not afraid dad can't handle it are
you?"

"No, no of course not. Cal seems very good
with her. Very good. But she's still so little, and I don't want
her to think I've deserted her. She needs me, I should be there.
I'm not here to attend dances, and buy pretty dresses. I'm the
cook, for heaven's sake."

"Social status means very little out here,
Emma. Being a cook is a decent job. Besides, you are much more than
that to us."

Emma tried to smile.

"Ya know Emma, you may or may not realize it,
but Sammie Jo has been good for Dad. He's been sick a lot this past
year. He's been in and out of hospitals with respiratory problems.
He has a severe case of Emphysema and the doctors warned him if he
didn't quit smoking, he'd be on an oxygen machine. They meant
it."

"I didn't realize it was that serious. I knew
there were some problems, I've heard him wheeze. He coughs some,
but he seems to be doing better now than when I first arrived."
Emma let herself relax, holding her hand in her lap and leaning
herself against the seat comfortably, although she still hugged the
door.

"Do you know why?" Deke shot her a glance,
his mouth tipping upward.

"No."

"Sammie Jo." The lines in Deke's forehead
suddenly disappeared. "I knew that little gal would warm his heart,
but I didn't dare hope she'd turn him around."

Emma watched the play of emotions cross his
expressions. This man loved his family, just like she loved Sammie
Jo. "I don't understand." Emma couldn't put the two unrelated
things together.

"Sammie Jo distracts him so much, he doesn't
reach for a cigarette anymore. He's nearly stopped smoking. God,
that's a miracle in itself." His voice thickened with that same
emotion. "I haven't said a word to him about it, because if he
realized it, he might go right back to doing it, out of pure
contrariness."

"Smoking is a hard habit to quit, I've been
told. Never took it up myself, never had the time. But I had an
aunt that died of lung cancer. She smoked right up till she died,
the doctors scolding her every step of the way. Said she'd just
soon die as to give it up. She was eighty though and had been
smoking most of her life."

Deke turned the air-condition vents towards
her. "She must of been a tough rascal. That's not a pretty way to
go, if there is one." He fell silent a moment then looked at her.
"You don't talk about your family much Emma. Except your brothers.
I take it you were close to them?"