Lost Highways (A Valentine Novel) (6 page)

“It’s okay, Uncle Doyle. I’ll call her in a few minutes.”

She tried to think of a way to bring the subject back to Houston and find out more about her passenger. Maybe she would just say straight out: So what do you do down in Houston? What are you gettin’ away from?

“Here it is,” Uncle Doyle said with satisfaction. “I got to write everythin’ down, or I forget about it.”

He handed her a scrap of paper torn from a paper bag. All that was written on it was: “Charlene called this a.m. Call her back.”

Rainey said, “I need to phone in my entry into the Amarillo rodeo, too, Uncle Doyle. I’ll use my calling card. Is Neva goin’ up to the rodeo?”

“Well, I don’t rightly know,” her uncle said, folding his arms and leaning forward on the table. “My daughter and I haven’t spoken in three months—since she chose to move in with her no-account boyfriend without the benefit of marriage.”

“Oh.”

Possibly more was called for on her part, but she was surprised and couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was a little embarrassed, too, wondering what her uncle must think about her passenger.

“I raised her better than that,” Uncle Doyle said. “If nothin’ else, she ought to have better sense. She’s got a blessed four-year college degree and is an assistant bank manager, and that no-account ain’t fit to roll with a pig, works weldin’ in the oil fields half the time and rodeo the other half, when he ain’t layin’ around, which is what it seems like he does most of the time.” He snorted. “Her mother’d be heartbroke.”

“I thought Neva was goin’ with a physical ed teacher,” she said, vaguely recalling what Neva had told her at her mother’s funeral back in the spring.

“She broke that off and took up with this bum.”

“Oh.”

It seemed to her that Uncle Doyle was looking at her and her passenger, who was sitting there looking uncomfortable.

“Harry and I are just friends, Uncle Doyle,” she said. Then, “I think I’ll go call Charlene.”

Laying her napkin beside the plate, she left the men. Harry seemed to get on well with her uncle; he could handle any needed explanations.

“You were supposed to call me as soon as you got there,” Charlene said, causing Rainey to sit down, feeling like she was wilting.

She sat in the old gooseneck rocker, and it rocked forward, setting her off balance and just about sliding into the floor. She was trying to get straight and listen to Charlene at the same time, which put her at a distinct disadvantage.

“I got really worried last night,” Charlene was saying in her sharp tone. “For all I knew you were squashed in the truck along a Texas highway.”

“I didn’t realize you expected me to call last night. It was late when we got in—about two o’clock in the mornin’.”

“And just what is this
we
business? Uncle Doyle said you have a man with you—a guy named Harry. You didn’t say anything yesterday about a boyfriend. You haven’t gone and gotten married again have you?”

The questions, jumping from boyfriend to marriage, confused Rainey. “No, I didn’t get married,” she said at last. “I just met him last night, Charlene, when I almost ran him down on the road. He had run his car off the road, and…”

“He ran off the road?” Charlene broke in. “What are you doin’ pickin’ up a drunk who ran his car off the road?”

“He wasn’t drunk,” she defended. “He’d just had an accident is all, and he was walkin’ along the side of the road in the dark. He was out in the middle of nowhere, and I had to give him a ride, and he’d hurt his head but didn’t think he needed to see a doctor, and well, he needed someplace to go
for a few days.”
Whew!
She’d spoken as fast as possible to avoid another interruption.

“He needed someplace to go?” Charlene sounded incredulous. “You picked up a stranger because
he needed someplace to go?
”

Rainey felt herself wilting a little more. “Well, he had a concussion.” She straightened. “I couldn’t just leave him there. It’s sort of complicated, Charlene.”

She began to get irritated. She could try again to explain, but she rather thought she would get nowhere. Her sister did not have the type of mind or heart to understand unorthodox circumstances. Charlene was a black-and-white sort of person.

“He could be a murderer,” she said.

“He hasn’t murdered us yet,” Rainey said practically. “He’s really nice. Uncle Doyle even seems to like him.”

“Oh, gosh, Rainey, you are just like Mama.”

Charlene spoke with great censure and equal distress, and Rainey didn’t know what sort of reply was called for. And more disturbing, it sounded as if her sister had begun to cry.

“Oh, Rainey, That Mildred Covington was over at Daddy’s
all night
. Helen went by there first thing this mornin’, and there they were, sittin’ at the breakfast table, That Mildred Covington still in her robe. Helen was embarrassed to death, and That Mildred Covington just sat there, bold as brass. Lord, at her age. I don’t know how Daddy can just forget Mama in such a short time. And everybody’s goin’ to start talking about it.”

Apparently Mildred had become That Mildred. Rainey said, “He hasn’t forgotten Mama, Charlene. You know he hasn’t.”

“He sure is givin’ every evidence of it. Just like, okay, she’s gone, let’s get on with things.”

Rainey thought that there really wasn’t a reason not to get on with things.

“It’s like Mama didn’t count for anything, cookin’ and cleanin’ for him, settin’ out his paper every Sunday, just the way he liked it.” She was clearly sobbing.

“Oh, Charlene, Daddy’s just horribly lonely. Mama did see to his every need, and he’s at a loss without her. Really, him lettin’ Mildred do for him is a compliment to Mama—it shows how much he loved having her that he’s lookin’ to find the same with someone else.”

She was trying to see this thing in the best light. She wasn’t nearly as shocked as Charlene, because she had suspected that this was going on. She thought it might help to add, “And they are in their eighties, Charlene. They were probably just watchin’ movies all night. You know how Daddy likes to watch that Western channel.”

“I don’t care what they were doin’ all night. It’s what it looks like. I wouldn’t be lettin’ my little Jojo go stay at some boy’s house, even if she is only eight years old, so I don’t think it is any different for Daddy and That Mildred to carry on like that.

“And another thing, he is barkin’ up the wrong skirt. Mildred Covington is a far cry from Mama, that’s for sure. She wears those knee-high hose with her dresses, for heavensake. They show when she sits there in that rocker, and it looks so tacky. But I can’t seem to do anything with him, Rainey. You are the only one who can, because you’re just like Mama.”

Rainey was surprised by the hint of helpless distress in her sister’s voice. She had never witnessed her sister helpless. Charlene was always so managerial.

“When are you comin’ home, Rainey?”

“I don’t know,” she said uncertainly. “I’m going up to the
Amarillo rodeo this weekend…I think Lulu and I have a good chance of winnin’ up there. Lulu came in second down in San Antonio, you know, with seventeen point nine seconds.”

She hoped by changing the subject to the rodeo and her plans she would get her sister’s mind off wailing over their father, as well as off the subject of Rainey going home. She did not feel up to going home yet.

“I hope you do as well as you’d like. But you’ve been gone long enough, Rainey. You need to plan on comin’ home.”

Rainey thought at least she had succeeded in getting Charlene’s mind lifted up; her sister sounded much more like her commanding self.

Rainey scraped the leftovers from breakfast into a pan on the porch. There had not been very much left, so she had cooked a bit of cornmeal mush, too. The puppy, wagging his entire back end, lapped it up.

“I thought you didn’t want him,” Harry said, looking on from where he leaned lazily against a porch post.

She thought of him as Harry now, after Uncle Doyle addressing him as such a number of times over breakfast.

“I don’t,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I’d let him go hungry.”

“Maybe your uncle would keep him.”

“He’d likely forget to feed him. In case you haven’t noticed, Uncle Doyle is somewhat absentminded. He’s very focused on his research, and when reading anything that interests him, he forgets everything else.”

Her passenger nodded, looking somewhat absentminded himself. He had beautiful eyes. Long dark eyelashes.

Quite suddenly she realized he was staring at her. She tried to look nonchalant.

“Are you still planning to go into town to take your tire for repair?” he asked.

“Yes…after I get a shower.”

“I’d like to ride along with you, if that’s okay. I need to get some things—toothbrush and shaving supplies and maybe a change of clothes.”

She looked at his clothes. “You might not find anything like what you’re wearin’.”

“I imagine I can find some jeans that’ll do just fine.”

He cast her a crooked grin, and his eyes seemed to sparkle for a moment, but back of that sparkle was a heavy sadness. She looked at him for a long second, wondering about his sadness, before she turned away into the house. She might have taken that opportunity to bring up the matter of the life he was getting away from, but she shied from that. She felt she would be prying, and she wasn’t certain she felt up to taking on someone else’s sadness. And she sure didn’t want to be disappointed.

What she wanted was a shower.

Every Story Has a Chapter

A
s she opened the truck door, she caught sight of the puppy several feet away. He stood poised, with the tips of his ears up, looking at her with longing.

She sighed. “Come on.” She lowered the tailgate—easy now with the trailer unhooked—and he jumped inside, big paws sliding on the slick metal bed. Slamming the tailgate, she returned to slip behind the wheel. Harry was looking at her.

She said, “Maybe I’ll pass a house with kids in town and have the chance to drop him off,” and put on her sunglasses.

It was the sort of day that could be mistaken for August, except that the light, while bright and warm, was thinner. Even the air was thinner. It came in a fresh breeze beating through the open windows, tugging at their hair and bringing the scent of the earth.

They passed a field of cotton, and she pointed it out.

“I know what cotton looks like,” he said, with that crooked grin she was beginning to think of as familiar.

“Well, I don’t know how much cotton they grow down around Houston.”

“They raise cotton a lot of places,” he said. He looked at her and then turned his gaze ahead out the window.

She returned her eyes to the road, wondering about him and his life. She wished she didn’t wonder so hard.

With a quick movement, she flicked on the radio, and lively country music filled the air. Their glances met, and they smiled at each other, before jerking their gazes away at the same instant.

Then she sneaked a peak at him, saw him rubbing a hand over his hair.

Again his eyes came to hers. “It’s a nice day,” he said.

“Great day,” she said and made herself focus on the road and driving, while very aware that he rode beside her. She figured it felt as it did simply because he was the first person to ride in the truck with her since she had started out on her trip to somewhere.

They dropped Rainey’s flat tire for repair at a gas station, and then continued on to a farm-and-hardware store. In the parking lot, she tied the puppy in the back of the pickup, saying that she didn’t want him to jump out and get run over. Even though he had not exhibited such behavior before, she looked at the busy street and grew doubtful.

Harry had never been in a farm store and seemed to find the possibility of purchasing a chain saw and antibiotics and syringes at the same place quite fascinating.

“They even have paint,” he said with some fascination.

“Jeans, too,” she pointed out, amused and fascinated herself by his fascination. “You won’t find anything like what you’re wearin’, but you did say you wanted some clothes.” She gestured at the stacks of Wrangler jeans.

Leaving him apparently quite happily engaged in perusing the clothing, she went on to the stock supplies to get the wormer and grain she needed for Lulu. She also picked up some dog food and a rawhide chew bone for the puppy, telling herself that she could toss it down in the yard where she dumped the dog to occupy him when she made her getaway.

Her shopping complete, she returned to the clothing section to find Harry gazing at himself in the full-length mirror. He wore jeans and a faded denim shirt that stretched nicely over his shoulders. A brown cowboy hat on his head, he turned to the right and then to the left, then cocked the hat at an angle the way he surely had as a boy watching Little Joe in
Bonanza
.

“It’s great,” she said.

He whirled around, snatching off the hat, a blush spreading over the sharp planes of his cheeks. As if it were on fire, he tossed the hat back on the table with the others. “Just thought I’d kill some time.”

“Oh, no…you might need it.” She took it up and extended it to him. “The next couple of days are to be sunny, no rain in sight. Here, let me see again.”

He took the hat and looked at her. She motioned at him. He set the hat back on his head and tested the placement.

“How does it feel?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think I know how it’s supposed to feel.”

“Uncomfortably tight far down…there. It should be tight but feel as if it could loosen. It will stretch.”

He looked again in the mirror, at first as if sneaking a look, then frankly and as if to make certain he recognized himself. She liked how he had quickly gotten over his self-consciousness.

“It suits you,” she said.

His eyes came to hers. “Well, howdy, ma’am,” he said, his
soft brown eyes sparkling, and his mouth grinning the first full grin she had seen thus far.

“Howdy, yourself.” She jerked the brim of his hat downward over his face and laughed gaily.

He swept the hat off and grinned at her, thoroughly full of himself.

“You should look at boots, too,” she said, giving his loafers a doubtful look.

So he bought boots, too, with a bit of her help and a lot of laughing and horsing around. Then they drove to Wal-mart, where he got socks and underwear, another shirt, and toiletries. She added a jean jacket to his cart, pointing out that they were on the high plains and that the nights would be cool.

He touched the jacket and looked at her.

“I know it’s only a couple of nights, but you might be glad for the jacket.”

He nodded.

They went through the store, Harry rolling the cart after her. His eyes widened when she tossed four big packages of snack cakes into the cart. She noticed his gaze slip down her figure; she thought he liked what he saw.

She picked up cleaning supplies, saying that she didn’t trust her Uncle Doyle to have any. Harry pointed out dog collars hanging nearby.

“I don’t need to buy a collar,” she said. “I bought him a chew bone. I’ll use it the first chance I get to dump him, to keep him busy so he won’t chase after us.”

“Oh.”

He paid for his purchases ahead of Rainey, and she noticed him carefully watching the clerk pass his credit card through the machine. He seemed nervous, and she wondered again
about his life, what he might be getting away from. When the clerk passed over his sacks, she thought she could almost hear him sigh with relief.

As they walked out across the bright parking lot, she asked him if he might need cash. “I think I’ll drop by the bank where my cousin works. There won’t be any trouble for us to get cash there, with a check or our credit cards.”

“Why don’t we just use an ATM?” he suggested, looking around as if to spy one.

“Well, I’ve never used one of those machines. I don’t have the number or card or whatever it is you need.”

“You’ve never used an ATM machine?” He looked stunned.

“No. I don’t like them…they sort of scare me. I mean, they suck in a plastic card and spit out money. Seems way too powerful a machine to mess with, if you ask me.”

He stared at her, then furrowed his brow and asked how she felt about a dialysis machine.

“I don’t think I could trust one of those, either,” she said, making no apologies. “Bank’s just up here on our way.”

Rainey left Harry walking the puppy on a grassy area next to the bank. He said he didn’t really need any cash.

“I’ll just keep using the card,” he said.

She shrugged and went into the bank.

Her cousin Neva saw her and jumped up from her big desk, coming forward with a wide smile. Rainey was struck. Her cousin had changed greatly in the few months since Rainey had last seen her. Neva’s brown hair, usually cropped short and mannish, now curled to her shoulders. She no longer wore glasses, and her dress was two inches above her knees.

The man, Rainey thought in an instant. This was the result of the bum not fit to roll with pigs.

“Good golly, girl, this is a surprise!” Neva said, enveloping Rainey in a big, warm hug.

Joy washed over her. Neva had always been her favorite cousin. She was, as Uncle Doyle had said, very smart. She had attended the university at Austin on full scholarship and could have gone on to any university in the nation for her master’s. Instead she had said that four years of higher education was enough for anyone and had come home to work in a small-town bank, where, she said, she could live the simple life, which for her included racing barrels. What Rainey appreciated about her cousin was that Neva never acted superior to those of lesser intelligence.

“I guess you are stayin’ out at Dad’s,” Neva said.

“Yes. We got in there late last night—I’ve got a friend with me for a couple of days. I’ve been racin’ Mama’s horse in barrels the past couple of months, and I’m on my way to the rodeo up in Amarillo this weekend. Aunt Pauline had me bring your daddy some praline patties and some information about alfalfa she saw down in South America.”

“I’d heard you were racin’ barrels again. Leanne said she had seen you in Wichita Falls. Leanne came through here a few weeks back on her way to the rodeo up at the XIT ranch—she gave me and my horse a lift up there. She sure does have a fancy rig. She’s doin’ pretty good with it these days, pretty much goin’ professional now.”

Leanne was a cousin on her mother’s side. Rainey agreed that Leanne was very good, then mentioned that Leanne’s horse had cost upward of thirty thousand dollars.

“And let me tell you, Leanne was spittin’ nails when she came in second to a five-hundred-dollar horse,” Neva said, laughing. Then she folded her arms and said, “Well, I didn’t know you were comin’ by here, cause Dad hasn’t been talkin’ to me for about three months now. Did he tell you?”

“He mentioned it.” Rainey searched her mind for something helpful to say about the situation.

“Well, it’s his choice,” her cousin said. “He told me not to bother comin’ around to see him, so I don’t.”

“Oh, he didn’t mean that. People say things in the heat of the moment.”

“He sure did, and he said too much.” Neva looked at the credit card Rainey held. “Did you want a cash advance?”

“Oh…yes.”

Her cousin took the card and went around the counter to a teller drawer. Rainey told her she would take a couple hundred. “I really think I’m gettin’ near my limit.”

A woman poked her head out of a glass office and called Neva to the telephone.

“One sec,” Neva held up a finger, then counted out Rainey’s money, saying, “Listen, we’re havin’ practice on barrels and poles tonight out at Shirley Trammel’s arena. You’re welcome to join us. I can’t make it to Amarillo this weekend, but I’m probably goin’ to a rodeo over in Hereford at the end of the month. My Buck’s goin’ over there, he rides bulls.”

Her cousin smiled brilliantly, giving birth to deep dimples. Rainey had never noticed the dimples. It must have been the new haircut that somehow framed them.

“Shirley’s place is a mile north of Daddy’s.” She cast a wave as she hurried to the glass office. “You come on.”

“Come to supper tonight,” Rainey called, but her cousin simply waved and shook her head.

When she came out of the bank, Harry told her he’d found out that there was a dog pound. An old man had walked past and told him.

“Why would he tell you that?” Rainey asked, lowering the
tailgate for the puppy to jump inside. She imagined the strange situation of a man just walking down the street and blurting out, “The pound’s around the corner.”

“I asked him,” Harry said.

Rainey got behind the wheel and buckled her seatbelt.

“I don’t think I need to take him to the pound. They only give the dogs a few days, and if no one claims them, they put them to sleep.”

“The man said he thought the pound killed them in two weeks. He wasn’t sure, though.”

“You are just a wealth of information,” Rainey said and shifted into drive, headed slowly down the road, keeping an eye out for a house with kids playing in the front of it. There were not many houses on the main street, and she supposed she would look awfully conspicuous driving up and down neighborhood streets.