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Authors: Carolyn Brown

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BOOK: My Give a Damn's Busted
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Luther shouted as he thundered across the yard. “Are you hurt, Rissa?”

“No, I’m fine. Want some iced tea before you pull us out of the ditch?” she offered.

Luther drew his heavy dark brows together and gave her a once-over. “You sure you’re all right? Want me to haul you to the doctor or call Angel to take you just to make sure? Did you bump your head? You look pale to me. There might be something broke inside of you that you can’t feel right now. This here’s the sorry sucker that made you wreck your fancy car?”

Larissa shook her head. “I’m fine, Luther. If I’m pale it’s because of fear, not pain. My life didn’t flash in front of me so it wasn’t even a close call. I’ll get you some tea. This is Hank Wells and truth is it wasn’t really his fault. He can’t help it if he can’t swerve and miss a deer.” She was glad for an excuse to get away from the scalding vibes dancing around between her and Hank. She’d heard that when folks kissed death that they had weird, unexplainable feelings. That was why she’d had such an attraction to Hank. Sure he was a fine looking man, but he definitely was not her type. Tomorrow morning when the adrenaline rush calmed down he probably wouldn’t even be good looking.

Luther sat down on the edge of the porch. “I’m Luther. And you are Hank Wells, the man that Rissa thinks can’t drive worth a damn?”

“That would be me. She don’t have a lot of trouble speaking her mind, does she?”

“Rissa don’t mince words. She tells it like she sees it.”

“I found that out. Thanks for bringing a tow truck so fast.”

Luther looked down the road at the truck, the car, and the dead buck. “Reckon we’d best call the game warden too.” He fished a cell phone from his bib pocket and reported the accident.

“Y’all call the police yet?” he asked when he finished telling the game warden where he could find the freshly killed buck.

“Don’t reckon there’s any need for that. Wasn’t nobody’s fault but that deer,” Hank said.

“Where are you from? Haven’t seen you in Mingus before.” Luther eyed him carefully.

Larissa returned with a quart jar filled to the brim. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my Mustang. It’ll probably just need a good washing to get the grass and dirt from the bottom. I braked when I saw the deer jump out in front of the truck. I was sliding but it was slow by the time I slipped into the ditch.”

Luther nodded and looked at Hank.

“My dad has a spread up north of Palo Pinto. I’m only in this area a little while in the summer. Don’t get down this way real often.”

Larissa frowned. “Did I butt into a conversation?”

Luther sucked down half the tea before he answered. “I’d just asked him where he was from and he answered. That was the end of the conversation, so you didn’t butt into nothing. Thank you for the tea. It’s hotter’n hell today. I’ll be glad to work at the Tonk tonight just to get to sit down in the cool air conditioning.”

“So you work for Lambert Oil and the beer joint?” Hank motioned toward the tow truck with that logo on the side. He knew all about Luther Mason. He just never reckoned on the man being as big as a barn door. The mug shot his investigator had sent showed a big man, not an enormous one.

“Both. Over at Lambert Oil, Angel McElroy is my supervisor. Rissa is my boss at the Honky Tonk,” he said. “Lucky I got access to a tow truck or y’all would’ve had to call J. C. or Elmer to come get you out with a tractor.”

“How’s things going with Angel and Garrett? I haven’t seen them in the Honky Tonk in weeks.” Larissa tried to focus on something other than Hank’s lips and eyes.

“The official honeymoon was over weeks ago but I’m not sure the real one is ever going to be finished. Someday I’m going to get what they’ve got.” Luther sighed.

Larissa patted him on the shoulder. “I hope so.”

Hank set his empty jar on the porch and stood up. A big diagonal red welt had puffed up on his chest. He flinched when he touched it.

“Hurts like hell, don’t it?” Luther said. Hank nodded.

“I’ve had a couple of those and believe me when that seat belt locks down on a big old boy like me it hurts real bad. There’s a lot of meat for it to sink into. It’ll be worse tomorrow and it’ll take a couple of weeks before it goes away.”

Larissa looked at the welts and then her eyes traveled up to Hank’s face. His gaze locked with hers and it was several seconds before either could blink.

Luther looked from one to the other. “Y’all know each other?”

Larissa noticed a movement near her rocking chair and was suddenly interested in the black and white tomcat she’d adopted. “Not until thirty minutes ago. That dead deer introduced us.”

Luther finished off his tea and chewed on a chunk of ice. “Well, I’m damn sure glad I wasn’t the one who introduced you if that’s the thanks it gets. Come on, Hank. You can help me pull Rissa’s car out of the ditch and make sure it’s all right. Then we’ll haul you home.”

Hank figured Luther was powerful enough to carry the Mustang to Larissa’s driveway on his shoulder. But when Luther told him to lock the chain under the car, Hank didn’t argue. The winch groaned and the car came up out of the ditch smoothly. Larissa got inside, started the engine, and drove it into the driveway. Luther studied the whole thing three times from tires to chassis down to the sides for paint damage and even the windshield for cracks.

“Don’t appear to be anything wrong,” Luther said.

“I really think it’s all right,” Larissa said.

“Well, a damned old buck isn’t going to pay up if something is cracked or broken, and we don’t want Hank here to think we’re making him pay for something that happens later. I reckon you are a stand-up guy, Hank. Do you see anything wrong with this car?” Luther asked.

Hank’s tone went icy. “It needs to be washed but it’s not hurt. If you find anything wrong within the next thirty days, call me and I’ll send you a check.”

Larissa glared at him. Warm one minute. Cold the next. Did he have a split personality? “You can bet your sweet ass I will. If my car even hiccups I will be calling you. What is your number?”

“I’ll be at the ranch for a month. It’s Henry Wells, Palo Pinto, Texas. Look it up.”

“Let’s get your poor old truck away from the tree and take you home, then,” Luther said.

Larissa stood on the porch and watched the wench bring the truck up to the road. Luther deftly moved the tow truck into position and waved when he and Hank crawled into the cab of the tow truck.

She picked up the empty tea jars. Her mother would have already fallen off the porch with a fatal heart attack if she’d known that Larissa served someone who looked like Hank from a Mason jar. Doreen would have taken one look at the man and the flirting would have begun right there. Larissa had seen it happen many times before and the men were usually built about like Hank Wells. He might be a cowboy in a rusted old truck but she could fix that with one trip to the car dealership and an English tailor. In fifteen minutes she would have invited him for dinner in Paris or London, booked a flight to take them there the next day, and maybe even taken him to bed once or twice before then. If not then she would seduce him on the plane and they’d arrive for dinner with healthy appetites. Yes, sir, Doreen did like her boyfriends and Hank was the perfect age.

A pickup came to a screeching halt, squealing tires in front of her house about the time that she opened the front door. “Shit! Not another wreck!” She slammed the door and spun around to see who’d hit what.

“Good god, Merle, you scared the crap out of me. I thought we were in for two wrecks in one day,” she yelled.

Merle Avery made a beeline toward the porch, cussing the whole way. “Don’t you be telling me that I scared the shit out of you, girl. It’s a wonder I didn’t have a heart attack. I’ve got my three score and ten in and am living on borrowed time already and if you ever tell a soul I owned up to that, you won’t die in a wreck. I’ll put a damn hit out on you. Are you all right?”

Merle had seen seventy come and go a while back but if anyone ever had the guts to utter those words they’d better run fast and far. If she ever caught them they’d be pushing up daisies instead of two-stepping at the Honky Tonk. She and Ruby Lee, the original owner of the Honky Tonk, had blown into Mingus at the same time back in the early sixties. Ruby Lee had built a beer joint and Merle had set about selling western shirt designs overseas. Both of them turned their enterprises into gold mines. Ruby Lee had died eight years before in a motorcycle accident and left the Honky Tonk to Daisy O’Dell. Since that time Merle had taken every woman who’d owned the beer joint under her wing and befriended them as if they were her own kith and kin.

“I’m fine. It didn’t even scratch my car. Come on in. Luther and Hank left part of a pitcher of sweet tea.” Larissa held the door for her.

“Tea, hell! Get me a shot of Jack, straight up. I drove over here like a bat out of hell, girl. I burned a hundred miles off those tires and it’s a wonder I didn’t roll that damn truck. I was doing a hundred miles an hour when I passed the Honky Tonk. Angel called and said Luther had to bring the tow truck because you’d had a wreck. I was afraid I’d have to follow the ambulance to the hospital.” Merle flopped down on the sofa. She threw her hand over her forehead dramatically and let out a whoosh of air. “Damn, I ain’t been that scared since the day Ruby Lee made me ride on that motorcycle of hers. I told God if he’d just let me live I’d never get on that thing again. He did and I didn’t.”

Larissa went to the kitchen, pulled down the bottle of Jack Daniels, and poured three fingers in a pint-sized Mason jar. She carried it to Merle and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about Angel calling you. It wasn’t even much of a wreck. Hank hit a deer and swerved all over the road and I either had to brake hard or smash into the rear end of a truck. That sent me into a slide and I wound up in the ditch. I never figured on anyone even knowing about it.”

“Honey, you can’t fart in a town this size without everyone in town knowing what you ate for dinner.” Merle tossed back the whiskey in two gulps and sat the jar on the coffee table.

“Well, I’m fine and the car isn’t hurt. The truck met up with an oak tree but Hank wasn’t hurt either, other than he’s going to have a seat belt bruise,” Larissa said.

“You got to hire some help in that beer joint. If you get hauled off to the hospital, who’d run it?” Merle said. Her straight-out-of-the-bottle black hair had been recently done and piled up on her head. Her jeans were tight and her signature western shirt was open to show a tank top under it. Her boots were scuffed and worn.

“Don’t know that I’ve ever seen you in worn out boots,” Larissa said.

“Don’t be changin’ the subject. I’m old but I’m damn sure not stupid. I was down in the basement working on a new design when Angel called. I grabbed the pair by the back door that I wear when I mow the yard,” she explained. “Now about that hired help?”

“I’ve been thinking about hiring someone because business has picked up so much. I promise I’ll think harder, but why would it matter if the joint was shut down if I got hurt?”

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and crossed herself. “Girl, you are talkin’ blasphemy. That place ain’t been shut down since Ruby Lee built it. Where in the hell would I go to shoot pool and have a beer after I’ve worked all day if the Honky Tonk was closed? I’m protectin’ my own interests here,” Merle said.

“You could run it as well as I could,” Larissa told her.

Merle shook her head emphatically. “Ruby Lee wanted me to go in partners with her and I turned her down. She was my best friend and I said no. You think anyone else could talk me into it, you’re crazy. When she died I almost crawled up in that casket with her but at least I still had the Honky Tonk. Daisy was already runnin’ it so it wasn’t so bad. Then when Daisy left I already knew Cathy so I didn’t get worried. Same with you. Cathy fell in love with Travis and got married, but you were already my friend so it wasn’t a catastrophic change. Girl, you got to find some help. That’s all there is to it. You don’t hire someone, I will.”

Larissa sat down in a rocking chair and set it to moving with her heel. “How’d you survive Tinker leaving?”

“It was time for Tinker to retire. He’s happy as a monkey in a banana factory out there on his property. So it wasn’t any big thing when Luther went to work for Cathy,” Merle said. “Tinker was tired and ready to retire when Ruby Lee died. If he hadn’t felt like he was Daisy’s surrogate dad he wouldn’t have stayed, but he did and I was glad. I don’t like change at my age. By the time he decided to quit, there was Luther. He’s big and burly like Tinker and the change wasn’t so bad.”

Larissa threw up her palms. “Okay, okay, I’ll really, really think about hiring someone.”

“Well, that’s settled. I’m going home to finish my job. Thank god you ain’t dead,” Merle said bluntly.

“Drive legal,” Larissa said.

“I’ll drive anyway I damn well please.”

“Then be careful so I don’t have to bail you out of jail for speeding. It’d be a shame to shut down the Honky Tonk so I could come up to the courthouse and get you out of a cell with a bunch of hardened hookers and drunks.”

Merle gave her a dirty look. “You find me a whole cell full of hardened hookers in this whole county and I’ll gladly visit with them in jail. Might even sell a few shirts.”

“Get on out of here and thanks for coming to see about me. That means a lot,” Larissa said.

When Merle was gone she got a case of nervous giggles. A year before she wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told her what she’d be doing on that summer night.

***

Henry Wells sighed when he looked up from the backyard and saw his truck being towed into the yard. He headed that way in long strides and held his breath until he saw Hank crawl out of the passenger’s side of the tow truck.

When he was close enough they could hear him over the noise of the winch he asked, “What happened?”

“Deer jumped out in front of me and sent me into a sideways slide into an oak tree,” Hank said.

“That’s my favorite old truck,” Henry said.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Hank said.

“You hurt?”

BOOK: My Give a Damn's Busted
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