I Love This Bar (35 page)

   "Ah, this is definitely better," he sighed.

   "Softness and pillows beat tables and no pillows every time. Good night, Jarod." She brushed a kiss across his lips and tasted beer.

   "Good night, darlin'."

   She shut her eyes but couldn't sleep. Not even when Jarod's breathing told her that he was sound asleep. She wiggled and he drew her closer as if even in his sleep he knew she was about to leave him. She inhaled and let it out slowly. Lying in his arms felt so right, even without sex before or glow afterwards.

Jarod eased off the bed and slipped his pillow into Daisy's arms. Sunrays filtered through slats on the miniblinds, making stripes across her face. Heritage from her mother's Indian blood showed in dark lashes fanning out on high delicate cheekbones. Her full mouth begged to be kissed even in sleep. He could have stood there for hours and watched her but another five minutes and he would have crawled back into the bed and spent the whole day making love to her. He tiptoed out of the bedroom and made his way around the sofa where Cathy slept.

   He tried to convince himself as he drove south back to the ranch that Daisy was right. If they got married— there, he'd actually thought the M word without shuddering—the heat between them might be like a flash in a pan. Quick. Hot. Out in a minute. They'd both wake up one day and realized they'd based a lifetime commitment on the bedroom fire.

   He could have driven all the way to Houston and talked the whole way and it wouldn't have worked. He loved the woman and the person he had to convince was Daisy. Not to leave him, either, but to move to Oklahoma with him. He'd have to take it slow. Maybe ask her to come spend the weekends with him, then build it up to a holiday for a whole week. Make her love the place, the ranch, and the area. Then hope and pray that she fell in love with him as hard as he'd fallen for her.

Daisy snuggled up to the pillow in her arms and threw a leg over Jarod's. Only to open her eyes to find that the pillow wasn't Jarod and she'd thrown her leg over nothing but a tangled mass of quilt. In a fit of anger she threw the pillow across the room.

   Cathy poked her head into the bedroom. "Jarod left right after the sun came up. He bumped the sofa bed and woke me but I pretended to be asleep so he wouldn't be embarrassed. Looks like all y'all did was sleep. You're still wearing clothes."

   Daisy made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a growl.

   Cathy handed her a cup of coffee. "Don't get mad at me because you were too tired to do anything other than sleep. Take this to the shower with you. I'll meet you in the kitchen when you are done. I'm making pancakes."

   Daisy carried the coffee to the bathroom, turned the water on, and set the coffee on the back of the toilet. By the time the water was the right temperature she'd dropped her smoky smelling clothing on the floor. She let the warm water flow over her for a full two minutes, then lathered up her hair and reached out from behind the shower curtain for the coffee. She turned around and let the warm water massage her shoulders as she sipped the coffee. It wasn't nearly as good as a Jarod massage, but it and the caffeine woke her up. She finished the coffee, quickly rinsed her hair, and finished showering.

   "It's alive," Cathy said when Daisy stumbled back into the kitchen. She still wore knit short pajamas and was barefoot.

   Daisy set her empty cup on the table. She'd dressed in a red T-shirt and khaki knee-length shorts. Her feet were bare and her dark hair hung in damp strings down her back.

   "Barely alive," she said.

   "So?" Cathy asked.

   "So what?"

   "Did you pay for his help?"

   "Haven't yet but I'm going to and you and Chigger are helping me." Daisy went on to tell her the plans as Cathy made pancakes.

   "I love a party. We could make the desserts today and maybe even get some of the other things ready. There might be a feller with my name written on his forehead," Cathy said.

   "This is not a party. It's a bunch of sweaty, hungry men. No black formals or diamonds," Daisy said.

   "If there's food and men, it's a party. I'll leave the formal and the diamonds in my suitcases. You can even stay all night if you'll trust me to drive back or if Chigger will bring me. That way you won't be dead tired in the morning. Well, you won't be unless…" Cathy let the sentence dangle.

   Daisy cut her off, saying, "No, you cannot drive my car back. I've got another idea."

   Cathy set a stack of pancakes in the middle of the table. "I won't wreck the car. I'll drive twenty-five miles an hour the whole way back. Dig in," she said.

   Daisy slid three of the oversized pancakes onto her plate. "Why in the devil did you and Brad trade in your cars for one?"

   "I had a three-year-old Mustang and Brad was driving a Taurus. We traded for an Escalade two months before he got mean and hateful. His name is on the title. Hell, we were getting married and after the wedding I was getting one of those new little smart cars to run around town and go to work in. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. I have to go shopping for a car or maybe a truck if you're going to let me stay around."

   "Let you! Damn, girl. I was thinking about giving you a raise," Daisy said around a mouthful of syrupy pancakes.

   "Well, thank God for that. I love it here," Cathy said.

   "Sorry bastard. Treating you like that."

   "Sorry bastard, Chris. Doing the same to you."

   They both giggled.

   "Thank goodness for Billy Bob. He's a good man to marry me the way he did when his heart was really set on marrying the owner of a beer joint, not just the hired help," Cathy said.

   "Too bad you didn't marry him too," Daisy said as she finished the last bite. "I'll do the dishes. You get ready. Wear something old. If your feller with your name tattooed on his forehead is really there, he'll have to meet you in work clothes. We'll go to the ranch first and take stock of what's already there and then drive into Stephenville if we need anything else."

   Daisy had just put the last plate in the dish rack when Cathy appeared back in the kitchen. She'd chosen denim shorts and a bright blue knit top and had sandals on her feet. "So do I get to drive out to the ranch just to show you that I can drive your little car without putting a scratch on it?" she asked.

   "I told you, nobody drives my car."

   "Jarod did."

   "I'm not even discussing it with you. You are not driving my Maverick." Daisy led the way out the door and across the backyard to the garage. She pressed a button on the remote and the garage door creaked upwards.

   Cathy sucked air when she saw the big Harley sitting in the corner. "Oh, my! Can I ride it? Please, Daisy. I'll be careful."

   "No, you cannot ride that thing. Ruby was killed on it. I'd be scared to death to let you ride it," Daisy said.

   "But I'm not Ruby and I'd be very careful. You know how much I love motorcycles." Cathy was almost to the drooling stage.

   Daisy pointed toward the nine-year-old candy apple red Cadillac still in mint condition. "Answer is no but you can drive that thing."

   "That's a pretty nice second choice." Cathy grinned.

   Daisy handed her the keys. "Take care of it."

   "You mean I get to drive it more than just today?"

   "It's yours."

   "Thank you! Coming to Texas has been the best thing that ever happened to me."

   "My car breaking down was the best thing that ever happened to me," Daisy said.

   Cathy slid behind the wheel of the Caddy. "I think the best thing that ever happened to you was Jarod McElroy."

   Daisy buckled her seat belt. "You've got stars in your eyes. All the cowboys in the area better stay away from the Honky Tonk. Every time I see you look like that you call and tell me you've got another boyfriend."

   "One cowboy puts stars in your eyes," Cathy shot right back at her.

"What if…"

"Don't judge Jarod by Chris' measly half bushel."

"And that's supposed to mean what?"

   "One person might have only a half bushel of common sense and dignity while another could have a whole bushel and there you'd be with the wrong ideas."

   "You are right, but…"

   "No buts. I am right. Leave it at that."

Jarod was standing in the front yard when they arrived. His overalls were dusty and had stains on the knees. The sleeveless T-shirt underneath didn't have a dry thread on it. They both got out at the same time and he waved.

   "You are early," he said. "Nice car. Did you just buy it, Cathy?"

   "It's my bonus for not killing a man last night," Cathy said.

   "Who'd you almost kill?" Jarod asked but his eyes never strayed from Daisy.

   "Old boyfriend showed up at the Tonk. Billy Bob put him going though," Cathy said. "I'm going to pet the dogs. Daisy can explain."

   Jarod took two steps and stopped a foot from Daisy. "I want to hug you but I'm too dusty and dirty. Been out countin' cattle on a four wheeler."

   "Who gives a damn? If I get dirty maybe this cowboy I know will give me a bath." She stepped into his arms and rolled up on her toes for a kiss.

   He inhaled the fresh scent of clean hair and perfume. He could never drive away in the sunset toward northern Oklahoma without her. He couldn't live without Daisy.

   Cathy rounded the end of the house, two old dogs plodding along behind her. "Hey, hey, if that don't stop I'll have to cook the whole dinner by myself."

   Jarod broke away with a grin. "I'm going back to work. I'll be in around suppertime. Reckon you'll still be here then?"

   The rumble of a vehicle kicking up dust coming down the lane caused them to break the heated visual of massages, baths, and passionate lovemaking.

   The truck came to a halt and Chigger stepped out. "Hi, y'all. I came to help. I can't cook worth a damn but I'll keep y'all company while you do and I'm a crackerjack dishwasher."

   "Thanks, Chigger," Jarod said and whistled as he went to the backyard.

   "Looks like you two are making love today and not fighting. That's a step in the right direction," Chigger said.

   "He's a hopeless romantic. A romp in the hay can't lead to a permanent relationship," Daisy said.

   "And you aren't a romantic?" Cathy asked.

   "Not anymore. It's just one nightmare after another. Makes me wish for the boring old days back before Jarod found the Honky Tonk."

   "Ah, you wouldn't trade all this excitement for anything. Now let's go cook. I hope he's got cocoa and plenty of eggs. I'm making a chocolate sheet cake. What are you making for the dinner party?" Cathy said.

   Daisy threw up her hands in bewilderment. "Peach cobblers, and it's not a party, it's a dinner for a bunch of ranchers. You are a hopeless optimist. I'm a realist."

   "Sure you are," Chigger said.

The first thing Jarod noticed was the red Caddy was gone. That meant he was coming home to an empty house. The upside was that Daisy had promised to be there after hours at the Honky Tonk that night. As tired as he was, he'd be sound asleep when she arrived. The next day would be so hectic he wouldn't have time to blink. So a hell of a lot of good it did him to think that was an upside to anything. What he wanted was for her to be there to tell him about her day and for him to share his with her.

   He went straight up to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. He dressed in soft knit gray pajama bottoms and a white knit tank top and padded back to the kitchen, hoping to at least find enough ham to make a sandwich. Forget cooking even a microwaveable TV dinner; he was too tired. Besides, the house smelled like fresh yeast bread and onions from when the women had been cooking all day. A TV dinner would taste like sawdust after that aroma.

   The kitchen table caused him to stop dead in his tracks and blink several times to make sure it wasn't a mirage. It was set for two. The centerpiece was a roast surrounded with baby carrots and potatoes. Side dishes included asparagus with hollandaise sauce, a crisp garden salad, and a basket of hot rolls.

   "I've died and gone to heaven," he whispered.

   Daisy came out of the utility room. "I hope not. There's a lot of work to be done here tomorrow. Sit down and let's eat. There's nothing more yucky than cold asparagus."

   He pulled out a chair for her. "You are eating with me, aren't you?"

   She sat down. "I'm not going hungry."

   "I will sign on to work at the Honky Tonk every night if you'd cook like this for me." He popped the first of a buttered hot roll into his mouth. "You making these for the hired help tomorrow?"

   "No, Cathy is. She's the bread maker. I made cobblers."

   "Will you please wear one of Mavis' old housecoats and put some lard in your hair in the morning?"

   "Why?"

   "Because you're already so damn pretty it hurts to look at you. When the fellows find out you can cook pies too, well, let's just say, if you looked real ugly, it might help a little bit."

   "You sure are charming when you are hungry and you've got such a romantic way with words," she laughed.

   Her laughter was like tinkling bells. Had he not been so hungry, he would have picked her up and carried her to bed right then.

   She saw the look in his eyes and changed the subject. "So how is Garrett going to turn this ranch around by himself?"