Stripped Bare (18 page)

For all his good-timing and frivolous ways, Jeremy never shirked work. If he said he'd take care of the cows or kids or do a chore for Mom, by God, it'd be done. Sometimes, when he didn't want to be tied down or was set on having fun, Jeremy was hard to locate. I had him today, though, and that left me free to find out what Ted was up to. But first I had to talk to Nat. After that, much as I hated the thought, I'd need to ask Ted's help to keep Roxy from selling the Bar J.

I left a note for Jeremy to run to Hodgekiss and get some groceries at Dutch's and to be sure to charge them to Frog Creek. For all the help he gave me, I didn't care if he shot my carefully planned grocery budget. Jeremy and Alexis had left one serving of the corned beef casserole Twyla had brought, and I forced myself to eat breakfast.

I slowed at the outskirts of Hodgekiss. The sun stretched and yawned, not in full morning mode, so it seemed odd to see someone walking along the highway, hidden by a hoodie pulled low on his head. It took me a minute to recognize Danny Hayward. What was he doing in town this early on a Tuesday morning?

He'd probably partied all night with one of his friends. It wouldn't surprise me if he'd sneaked away from the Bar J after his grandparents were in bed.

Danny Hayward was a problem. Maybe Carly didn't need Danny to find trouble, but he always seemed to make it worse.

A year ago, the slate clouds had pressed on Carly and me as we cranked Elvis's heat and drove up I-25 from Denver in silence. I debated introductions to the conversation. My first thought was
What the hell is wrong with you?
. That seemed counterproductive.

After about two hours of silence, she squeaked, “I'm sorry.” And started to cry. It had taken a year for her to cry after Glenda's death, and she hadn't done much since.

I whipped off the interstate, into an abandoned gas station, rammed Elvis into park, and leaned over the console to put my arms around her. “I love you, Bird.”

She bawled for a while and I let the heater blow while I held her, the box of the console biting into my ribs and my lower spine twisting.

When the sobs tapered off, I sat back in my bucket seat and tried not to look relieved. “Tell me what happened.”

She wiped her face on the cuffs of the flannel shirt I'd given her when I discovered she had only the tank top she wore. Her backpack contained nothing but a few bags of Cheetos she'd probably bought from a gas station, and Birdy Bird. This was April, the month of sixty-five degrees one day and a blizzard the next. “I had that fight with Louise and she made me so mad I called Danny to come get me.”

After Brian's death, Louise had been named Carly's guardian. The fight—epic, by both Louise's and Carly's accounts—had started over an insignificant disagreement about Carly wearing a tank top to school.

I wished Carly could learn to be like water and flow out of the way. But she was more like her mother, Glenda, and had to Cool-Hand-Luke Louise's authority. When we were growing up, Glenda and Louise punched, pulled hair, and yelled at each other while I hid with a comic book under the bed and Diane took the opportunity to help herself to whatever the older two fought over.

Having already advised Carly of better ways to deal with authority, I didn't waste my breath. “I thought you and Danny broke up.”

She swiped at her face again, removing some of the black mascara and eyeliner she favored these days. “We did. But I knew he was in town and he'd come get me.”

“So, you left with Danny.”

She nodded.

“And he had beer.”

She nodded again.

I started Elvis and pulled back onto the interstate, still two hours from Frog Creek. “When did you decide it would be a good idea to run away?”

She offered the universal adolescent shrug. The one that makes adults want to knock the kid's block off.

“Don't make me drag this out of you.”

She exhaled. “We drove around awhile. Danny kept bringing up all the good times we had, growing up at the ranch.”

She stopped and drew in a shaky breath. “He's the only one of my friends who remembers Mom. And he gets what a total bitch Roxy is.”

I waited while she paused.

“He's got all kinds of bullshit with Nat and Rope. They try to control him.”

I felt like I had to defend my team. “Danny's lucky to have grandparents who love him.”

“I know Rope and Nat are nice people. Louise probably is, too.”

Point made; we could move on.

“We got drunk and convinced each other we'd be better on our own and decided to live in Denver.”

Again I bit back my first thoughts, starting with
What kind of idiot are you to drive drunk?
and moving on to
How did you think two sixteen-year-olds would support yourselves?
Instead, I tried to sound calm and sensitive. “Then what happened?”

“We got the hotel room and Danny found somebody to buy him beer and he had some pot.”

She stopped, probably waiting for me to gasp and lecture her on premarital sex, substance abuse, and generally skanky behavior. I didn't.

“Every time I tried to talk about making a plan and getting jobs, Danny got mad, so I let it drop. But then we ran out of money.”

“And that's when you called me?” Diane lived in Denver. She'd have been at Carly's side in a heartbeat.

“Not until he got scary.”

I clenched my hands on the steering wheel. I wanted to brain that asshole kid. “Did he hit you?”

She shook her head. “No. But he was getting close. He shoved me against the wall. I thought he was one beer away from putting his fist in my eye.”

Carly was no one's fool.

“So I walked to the Denny's and called you.”

“He didn't come after you?”

“The pencil dick probably kept drinking beer and smoking until he ran out or passed out or both.”

We drove several miles while I tried to get my temper under control. “I'm glad you called me. Louise is pretty worried.” I paused. “And really torqued off.”

Carly looked ashamed. “I'm sorry. But I shouldn't have to live with someone like her. I know she's got five kids and looks stable and all that shit. But she's a fascist.”

Her voice rose in frustration. “I don't need someone hovering over me all the time, making me eat breakfast and checking my goddamned homework.”

She swiveled in her bucket seat and faced me. “And having to talk like I'm six years old or Louise stops every conversation and says, ‘Carly, language.' Like I'm going to fucking be a nun or something.”

Louise did it to me, too. “She gets that from Dad. Still, a teenager is a kid, and there's nothing wrong with having a few rules.”

Carly flopped back in the seat and stared out the windshield at the fat raindrops popping on the glass. “Why can't I live with you?”

We drifted into our own schemes for the rest of the drive, commenting from time to time on the weather or mundane topics.

Because Frog Creek was south of town, off the highway we were traveling, I pulled in to the ranch before taking Carly to Louise's. After dropping our coats on the back porch, we walked into the kitchen to find Ted chopping onions and browning hamburger for spaghetti.

“Hope you're hungry.” He smiled and invited me to kiss his cheek.

I obliged, then stepped back, trying to keep trepidation from my voice. “Carly's going to stay with us.”

He nodded at Carly. “Great. I've got plenty. It's my special sauce. You'll love it.”

“Not just for supper.” I took a deep breath, lining up my arguments and appeasements. “Probably until she graduates.”

He never hesitated. The staccato of his knife on the cutting board kept its pace. “Be careful with that space heater in the attic. It's fine to run it while you're in your room, but turn it off when you leave. Don't want it overheating and starting a fire.”

From that moment, there was never any question of Carly not being welcome. I'm not sure I ever loved Ted more.

I shook my head to clear it of kind thoughts about Ted. He was a lying, cheating scumbag. Damn. He was both: generous and loving, diabolical and dishonest.

Danny looked pathetic, huddled in the hoodie. He might be a no-good cuss, but he was a kid. Alone, sad, and cold. If I saw a stray dog, I'd try to lend a hand.

I braked Elvis, pulled a U-turn, and headed back to see if I could give Danny a ride someplace. As I eased Elvis onto the shoulder in front of him, he craned his head up. He hesitated a split second, then wheeled around and bolted across the highway.

What the…? I slammed Elvis into Park and launched after Danny. I didn't have to chase him far. He'd crossed the highway and barreled down the embankment toward the railroad tracks. By the time I got to the top of the ditch, he'd stumbled on the steep bank, probably because he wore his baggy pants too low. He rolled to the railroad right-of-way and lay on his back, panting and ashen.

I picked my way down the ditch and stood above him. “Morning.”

Even from where I stood I could smell sour body odor. He struggled to his hands and knees and scrambled away.

I lunged for him and grabbed fistfuls of his hoodie. “Hold on there, cowboy. Where are you going?”

He bucked but I held on. He yelled, “Leave me alone. Get away from me.”

“Wait!” I planted my hands on his shoulders and pushed him to sit. “What's the matter with you? I'm not going to hurt you.” Unless he'd hurt Carly; then he needed to worry. But since she was in Lincoln, he was probably safe from me.

Puffs of breath rose in the chilly air. “What do you want?”

I squatted to look into his face. His pupils swallowed most of his iris. Whatever he saw, I'd bet it wasn't real sharp. I let go. “What are you on?”

He pulled back. “What? Nothing. I just came to town early. Gonna lift weights before school.”

“That right?” I studied him a minute. “Rope and Nat know you're here?”

A lump rolled down his Adam's apple. He breathed harder. “Carly asked me to meet her before school.”

I grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him toward me. “Don't use Carly for your excuses.”

Life stirred in his dull eyes. “Why don't you and all your bullshit family leave her—leave us—alone? I'm what she needs. I can take care of her.”

Weaselly, smelly, jerk. He seemed pretty far from death, and probably couldn't get into too much trouble this time of day, so I'd leave him alone. “Want me to give you a lift to the school?”

“Fuck you.”

That let me off the hook with poetic finality. I'd do my part by letting Nat know I'd seen him.

Elvis waited for me like the trusty mount he was and we hi-yo-Silvered down the road, leaving Danny to his morning workout.

Dad's pickup sat outside the house, so I pulled in behind it and let myself into the kitchen.

“Morning, sugar.” Dad stood at the sink, filling his thermos with coffee. He wore his steel-toe boots. “You did a mighty fine job at the debate last night.”

I poured a cup of coffee. “We need to do something about Eldon's funeral.”

He screwed the lid tight and wedged the thermos into the oversize backpack he used for a work grip. “Already talked to the funeral home. We decided on Friday. I told 'em to pick some regular hymns. Carly doesn't have any favorites, does she?”

Hymns? “Not that I know of.”

He lifted the heavy pack and grunted as it settled on his back. “Eldon wasn't much of a churchgoer.

Carly should have a hand in saying good-bye to Eldon. “Thanks.”

“You've got a lot of other deciding to do; guess I can help out with the funeral.”

I stared at my coffee, then up at him. “You knew about Ted and Roxy, didn't you?”

No hound ever had sadder eyes. “I'm real sorry, Katie.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump. It seemed natural to have him defend his choice to not tell me, but this was Dad. He treated us like wildlife. It'd pain him to watch an elk drown from falling through the ice on a Yellowstone lake, but he accepted the natural order of things. Dad's principles were a little too rigid, to my way of thinking, but I wouldn't change him.

He kissed me on the forehead and left for work. He'd return in two days, give or take.

Mom wandered into the kitchen. She wore her New York getup: black turtleneck and yoga pants. Everyone wore yoga pants these days, but Mom had been wearing them ever since I could remember. She'd pinned her hair into a French twist and wore makeup. She was stunning in a way Dahlia could only dream about. “You look tired, Katharine.”

If tired was all, at least I didn't look as poorly as I felt. “You finished the piece?”

She was pretty when she smiled. “I think it's one of my best.” She filled her copper teakettle and settled it on the gas stove. “Your father's right.”

“About what?” I set the coffee down, untouched.

She opened a silver canister and spooned out loose tea leaves. “You have decisions to make. Many times in your life you've fallen into things or taken the path of least resistance. This time, you need to make conscious choices.”

With more than a touch of defensiveness, I said, “I will.”

She stood by the stove, waiting for the water to boil. “It's not enough to let Ted choose. That's what happened when you married.”

I settled for the weak defense. “I love Ted.”

She considered me. “But not until he picked you. Then it was as if you felt obligated to pick him back.”

That wasn't true. Or was it? Did I only start loving Ted after he wanted me?

I preferred it when Mom seemed oblivious.

She tapped the side of the kettle to test the heat. “Even though I'm against interfering, I'm going to give you a teensy bit of advice.”

Would it offend her if I pulled my phone out and recorded this? Louise would never believe it.