One Step Over the Border (14 page)

At 9:00 P.M., they scooted into a booth by the window of the Caliente Café and ordered three number 12s with extra salsa on
the side. Hap sat across from Laramie and Annamarie.

Sara waited in the car.

With a new toy from Dairy Queen.

High, padded red vinyl seatbacks in the booth gave them a sense of privacy. A six-pack of various hot sauces and a stack of
paper napkins perched on the table below a window overlooking a street filled with lowriders and mind-thumping bass notes.

“I guess this was sort of stupid, tryin’ to find my truck by drivin’ all over town,” Hap said. “I just feel like I have to
be doin’ somethin’.”

“Sara enjoyed it,” Laramie remarked.

One glare from Hap silenced him.

Annamarie spun the ice in her Coke with her long finger. “And I got to hear some wonderful stories. So, how did you decide
that Fernando’s Juanita Elaina Cortez in Zapata was not the right Juanita?”

“The wide gap in her front teeth, plus the birthmark under her ear turned out to be a tattoo of Mickey Mouse,” Hap reported.

“I thought you turned her down because she cussed like a rookie bull rider and told you her mother had a better mustache than
you.” Laramie dumped red Tabasco into the salsa.

“That, too.” Hap stabbed four tortilla chips into the bowl, then popped them into his mouth.

“What now, guys? You said the work was done at the feedlot. Where do you go from here?” Annamarie asked.

“Can’t go anywhere without my truck,” Hap said. “I ain’t goin’ to haul a horse trailer behind a dadgum Ford Fiesta. I reckon
we’ll stay around here a while. One of the cattle buyers offered us a few days’ work.”

Laramie eased his arm to the back of the booth and slipped it around Annamarie’s shoulder. He felt more like sixteen than
thirty-one. “Do you know a man by the name of Pete Struckmann?”

The stiff, open collar on her white, long-sleeved blouse covered most of her long neck, except for a small silver heart that
dangled from a delicate silver chain. “He owns a car dealership, radio station, plus some other businesses. He’s on the board
of directors of St. Mary’s Hospital. He seems like a nice man… you know, in a rich sort of way.”

Laramie felt muscles that had been taut for months, perhaps years, begin to relax. “Struckmann bought four hundred head of
steers at the feedlot. According to him, he purchased himself a nice spread and wants to go into the cattle business. He said
the ranch he bought has been tied up in an estate contestation for five years. The bank he purchased it from assured him the
fence was in great shape, but he’s not real confident in their assessment. He’s going to corral his cows by the stock tanks
until we check it out and repair the fence. It might take us a few days.”

When Annamarie glanced at Laramie’s arm, he pulled it back.

“That sounds so nice and peaceful. On horseback, out in the hills… a time to relax.” She tugged Laramie’s arm back around
her shoulder. “What size is this ranch?”

“Over twenty thousand acres. Bigger than a five-mile square.”

“My, it really does sound serene. No emergencies. No panic. No danger.” Her hazel eyes took on a greenish hue as she leaned
back against his arm.

Laramie felt as if an electroshock had restarted his heart, rekindling the memory of how good the attentions of a classy lady
can make a man feel. “Do you ride?”

“I used to ride twice a week without fail. I have a friend that runs a stable down at Noche Negra. But since I started working
overtime in the emergency room, I’m too exhausted to do things like that.”

The sound of dishes crashing to the floor spun their attention toward the kitchen door. A teenage boy in white jeans scurried
to clean up the mess.

“You’re invited to come along, if you like… you know, providing you have the time,” Laramie offered.

Hap pushed his hat back. “Annamarie don’t want to ride fence with us. Shoot, I don’t even want to ride fence with us. It’s
hot, sweaty, dull, boring, routine work. We probably won’t see another soul for three or four days.”

“That sounds wonderful, I’ll do it. I’ve got so many days off piled up, the hospital administrator has been begging me to
use them up. I’ll make some phone calls and line it up tonight. Do you have a horse and tack I can borrow? I could get one
from my friend in Noche Negra, but I don’t imagine she could be here tomorrow morning.”

Laramie’s grin seemed to be hanging from his earlobes.

Annamarie paused. “Was that a serious offer?”

“Oh, yeah.” he gave her a squeeze.

Daylight flooded in from the east and the air drifting from the river felt almost coastal. From the edge of the dirt road,
the range rolled brown and treeless. To the south, the ground leveled out into irrigated farms. Beyond the horizon sprawled
a town and further away, the Rio Grande.

The predawn thunderstorm barely sprinkled the soil, but the raindrops cleaned the air and gave it a fresh, misty taste. Luke
and Tully sensed a day on the range and shuffled their hooves as they stood tied to the trailer.

Hap tugged the rubber boot off Luke’s left rear hoof. “What in the world are we doin’, takin’ a beautiful, sophisticated lady
like Annamarie Buchett with us ridin’ fence?”

Laramie watched the road toward town. “She needs a change of pace, Hap… some downtime. She doesn’t really have anyone to ride
with.”

Hap eased Luke’s hoof back to the ground, then pushed his hat back. “So, we’re doin’ this for her?”

“Of course.”

“I thought for a while it was just for you. You’ve been actin’ as blissful as a bull in springtime. But, if it’s for Annamarie’s
sake, of course we got to do it.”

Laramie hiked closer to his partner. “She’s a nice lady, Hap. A real nice lady.”

Hap smoothed the white, red, and blue Navajo saddle blanket on Luke’s back. “And she’s tall. With classic long legs. And narrow
waist. And good proportions elsewhere. But I reckon that don’t enter into this at all.”

“Partner, you know the feeling when you’re going down a road you never traveled and you think something exciting’s up around
the next bend or just over the next hill? An urge pushes you to keep going, to see where it leads. Well, I got to see where
this leads.”

Hap set his saddle down easy on the Navajo blanket. When he turned, his eyes locked on Laramie’s. “Seein’ where it leads?
Now, that, partner, is somethin’ I know about.” He studied the sky. “It looks like a good day to ride.”

“Yep. And today, I am glad I’m me.”

The blue Mazda Miata pulled up near the trees next to them, the black soft top up. The first one out of the car had black
hair, old jeans, and a beat-up straw cowboy hat. The other had short, pointed ears and a flea collar and yelped at Hap.

Laramie led the way, then Annamarie on the paint mare with Sara straddled awkwardly in her lap. Hap held the lead rope for
the pack mule. All three had bedrolls lashed to the backs of their saddles.

They rode west, parallel to the dirt road. Laramie divided his time between surveying fence and stealing glances at Annamarie.
Her eyes were covered with orange-framed sunglasses. Matching orange earrings dangled from her ears. Her long-sleeved white
blouse danced with orange and yellow embroidered daisies.

Laramie admired the way she rode… straight, chin up, reins low, toes barely tucked in the stirrups. The sunglasses hid her
eyes and hints of what was going on in her mind. So did Laramie’s. At that moment, he was glad they did.

Throughout the morning, several pickups raced down the unpaved road rolling dirt clouds their way. The air tasted dry, acrid.
Even when the wind drifted away from them, they rode in the aroma of sweat and old leather.

About 10:00
A.M
., Laramie dismounted in the shade of three mesquite trees.

“If the entire fence is like this first part, it won’t take all that long.” Annamarie waited as Hap lifted Sara to the ground.

Laramie loosed Tully’s cinch and dropped the reins to the dirt. “Fences seldom break down next to the road.”

Annamarie stretched her long legs and rubbed her backside. “Why do you think that is?”

“It’s one of life’s mysteries.” Hap checked the load on the pack mule. “Fences bust where it’s most inaccessible.” He pulled
off his black hat and wiped his face and hair with his bandanna. “They bust on rocky ground, edges of cliffs, or in the middle
of a cactus patch. It’s a cinch you’ll have to tote a full roll of wire on your back for a mile uphill. It’s as if they have
a mind of their own and an evil, unrelenting hatred for cowboys.”

“Boy, you’re a pessimistic cuss today.” Laramie drove a staple into the fencepost to pin down a dangling strand of barbed
wire.

Hap squatted to scratch Sara’s ears. “I’m still fumed about losin’ my truck.”

Annamarie gazed across the road at a distant green field. “What are you guys going to do after you get Hap’s truck back and
finish this job?”

“Head toward Del Rio, I reckon.” Sara jumped up and licked Hap’s cheek.

“Chasing Juanitas?”

Laramie pulled the canteen off the saddle horn and ambled over to her. “I promised Hap we’d scout the Rio Grande from Brownsville
to Creede, Colorado. If we don’t find his Juanita, he has to give up the hunt and live a normal life.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have a clue what normal is.”

Annamarie tugged off her sunglasses and dangled them from a black nylon braided strap around her neck. The bright sunlight
illuminated her hazel eyes with foxy tints. “Neither do I.”

Laramie pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “How about you, Annamarie? Do you aim to be an emergency-room nurse
in Laredo the rest of your life?”

“Not really. I moved down here three years ago when my husband was killed. I thought the two widows could take care of each
other. It was the right thing to do at the time.”

“Your mamma is a widow, too?” Hap poured water into the palm of his hand and held it out for Sara.

“Daddy died from cancer about five years after he got back from Vietnam.”

“Was it caused by Agent Orange?” Laramie asked.

“That’s what we think, but back then no one would tell us.”

Hap took a swig from the canteen. “That’s tough losin’ your daddy and your husband.” He handed the canteen to Annamarie.

“I’m trying not to lose my mother as well. I struggle to talk her into selling the store.” She wiped the mouth of the canteen
on the sleeve of her blouse and took a swig.

“What would she do if she sold the minimart?” Laramie quizzed.

“Maybe move to Santa Ana, California. Her brothers own a catering business. She could work for them or just retire.”

“If your mamma moves,” Laramie took the canteen she handed him, “where does that put you?”

“I’ll be in a hospital somewhere. It’s who I am. I like being a nurse, but I wouldn’t mind slowing the pace some. Mother says
I was born to wear white, crepe-soled shoes.”

“You look good on horseback, too.”

Hap grinned. “Shoot, she’d look good anywhere, doin’ anything.”

Annamarie rubbed her long, thin nose, then grinned. “You guys have no idea how great those compliments sound.”