The Lovett Historical Society members dressed in period costumes. By noon it had warmed up to sixty-three degrees; by five, it was a balmy seventy-two and the society was looking a bit damp. In the Albertson’s parking lot, artists and cloggers performed throughout the day. That night, a local favorite, Tom and the Armadillos, was set to play at one end of the big lot while a pool tournament took place at the other end.
At seven
P.M.
, Sadie pulled her Saab into a parking slot in front of Deeann’s Duds and hit the vendors down the street. What else was she going to do? Go home and stare at the walls? Watch more television? Check out YouTube until her eyes bled? God, how many talking dog and teenage prank videos could she watch?
She needed a life beyond the rehab center. Her father had always refused to give her responsibilities at the JH. Granted, at the moment she couldn’t analyze grazing reports and animal tracking data, but she’d taken plenty of college courses and was sure she could read graphs if someone took the time to show her.
There had to be something for her to do besides making her bed and washing her own dishes. Something easy. Something to keep her occupied that didn’t carry with it a big weight of responsibility. The responsibility of maintaining ten thousand acres, over a thousand head of cattle, and a herd of breed horses. Not to mention two dozen or so employees. Because she was a girl, her father had never taught her the business. Beyond just the basics she learned from living at the JH for eighteen years, she didn’t know a lot. She didn’t know what she would do once her daddy died. She’d been thinking about it a lot lately, and just the thought of the responsibility made her fidgety and filled her with an overwhelming urge to jump in her car and get the hell out of town.
After she’d visited her dad earlier, she’d gone home and changed into jeans, blue T-shirt, and a Lucky zip-up sweatshirt with a Buddha on the back. She dug out the white cowboy boots and white Stetson she’d worn in high school. The boots were a bit tight, like maybe her feet had grown half a size, but the hat fit like she’d worn it just the day before. She found her old custom-made belt with the JH brand worked into the leather and “SADIE JO” etched in the back. It was a bit stiff, but thank God it still fit.
She might live in Arizona, but she was a Texan and Founder’s Day was no joke. It was an occasion to “dress.” As she walked to the food vendors, she was glad she’d duded up. Given the size of the hats and belt buckles, teased hair and tight Wranglers, no one was messing around.
At the food booths, she bought a hot dog with mustard and a bottle of Lone Star.
“How’s your daddy?” Tony Franko asked as he handed her the beer.
She knew Tony from somewhere. She wasn’t quite sure where. Just like most everyone else around her, she’d grown up knowing them and they her. “Better. Thanks, Tony.” It had been a week since she’d moved him from Laredo.
As she moved down Main, she was stopped several times by well-meaning people who asked about her dad. She paused at the bead booth long enough to buy two coral bead bracelets for the Parton twins.
“How’s your daddy?” the woman asked as she took Sadie’s money.
“Better. I’ll tell him you asked.” She slipped the bracelets into her pocket and moved past the pottery and beeswax candle booths. As she looked at little armadillos and corncobs carved from stone, she polished off her hot dog and felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Dooley and me was real sorry to hear about your daddy, Sadie Jo. How’s he doin’?”
She looked across her shoulder at a woman she recognized from her childhood. Dooley? Dooley? Dooley Hanes, the veterinarian. “He’s doing better, Mrs. Hanes. How’s Dooley?”
“Oh dear, Dooley died five years ago. He had the cancer in his testicles. It was advanced by the time they found it.” She shook her head and her big gray dome wavered. “He suffered something fierce. Bless his heart.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She took a drink of her beer and listened as Mrs. Hanes listed all the poor misfortunes that had befallen
her
since the demise of Dooley. Suddenly, sitting at home watching dog videos didn’t sound so bad. Dog videos and a hammer upside the head sounded like heaven.
“Sadie Jo Hollowell? I heard you were in town.” Sadie turned and looked into a face set with dark brown eyes and a huge smile.
“Winnie Bellamy?” She’d sat behind Winnie in the first grade and had graduated with her. They hadn’t been best friends, but they’d hung out with the same group. Winnie had always had long dark hair, but she’d obviously given in to the Texas in her and had dyed it blond and poufed it up.
“Winnie Stokes now.” She pulled Sadie against her chest. “I married Lloyd Stokes. He was a few years ahead of us in school. His little brother Cain was our age.” She dropped her hands. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Cain’s single and he’s a catch.”
“If he’s such a catch, why didn’t you marry him instead of his brother?”
“He’s a catch
now
.” Winnie waved the question away. “He and Lloyd are playin’ in the pool tournament. That’s where I’m headed. You should come and say hey.”
The offer sounded better than Mrs. Hanes, dog videos, or a hammer. “Excuse me, Mrs. Hanes,” she said, and she and Winnie caught up on old times as they made their way to the Albertson’s parking lot a few blocks away.
Orange and purple streaked the endless Texas sky as the giant sun sank lower west of town. At one end of the grocery store’s parking lot, two rows of five pool tables were set up beneath strings of Christmas lights. Cowboy hats crowded the spaces around each table, broken up by the occasional trucker’s hat. Only one man braved the event out of costume.
Beneath the white Christmas lights, Vince Haven leaned a big shoulder into one of the square posts. He wore non-issue, beige cargo pants, plain black T-shirt without any sort of flag ironed or embroidered on it, and his head was bare. Obviously the man didn’t know the seriousness of the day, and he stuck out like a sinner among the converted. He held a pool cue in one hand and his head was cocked to the side as he listened intently to the three women gathered about him. Two wore straw cowboy hats; the other had teased her red long hair into a massive pouf like the Little Mermaid. She held a cue in one hand, and as she bent over the table, her hair flowed down her back to her butt in a pair of tight jeans.
“Sadie Jo Hollowell!” someone yelled.
Vince lifted his gaze from the women in front of him and his eyes locked with hers. He watched her for several long seconds before she turned just in time to be caught up in a big hug that lifted her off her heels.
“Cord?” Cordell Parton was three years younger than Sadie and had taken odd jobs at the JH off and on with his aunts.
“It’s good to see you, girl.” He lifted her up higher and his hat fell to the ground.
He’d gotten huge since she’d seen him fifteen years ago. Not fat. Just solid, and he squeezed her tight. “Lord love a duck, Cord. I can’t breathe.” Had she just said, “Lord love a duck”? If she wasn’t careful, she’d be saying “crying all night and pass the tea towels.” Maybe it was the hat. She was starting to sound like a Texan.
“Sorry.” He set her back on her feet and bent to retrieve his Stetson. “How’s your daddy?”
“Getting better.”
“My aunts said you’ve been spending a lot of time in Laredo with him.”
“He was moved to Amarillo last week.” She looked over Cord’s shoulder and her gaze landed on Vince’s butt as he leaned across the next table over and took a shot. Lord love a duck, he was hot. Judging by the three women watching his butt, too, she wasn’t the only one who thought so. He made those non-issue cargo pants look good.
“Come say hey to Lloyd and Cain,” Winnie said, and took Sadie’s elbow.
“It was great to see you, Cord. Come out to the ranch and have a beer with me one of these days soon. We’ll catch up.”
“Sounds good.” He slid his hat back on his head. As she walked away, he called after her, “You’re still as pretty as a Sunday sermon. I always had a crush on you, you know.”
Yeah. She’d known. She smiled and glanced at Vince out of the corners of her eyes. He lined up another shot, then laughed at something one of the women said to him. She wondered which one was his girlfriend, because, after all, he’d been in town for over a month. In Lovett, that was plenty long enough to meet someone, get married, and start a family.
“Hey. It’s Sadie Jo Hollowell,” Cain Stokes said as she and Winnie approached the table. He leaned over and lined up the white ball, and Sadie got a chance to look at him. She didn’t know if he was a catch, but he’d certainly improved since high school. He was taller. Leaner. And somewhere he’d developed a killer smile that filled his blue eyes with mischief. He also knew how to dress for Founder’s Day in a pair of tight Wranglers that outlined his package. Not that she cared to know.
“Hey, Cain.” She turned to his brother. “How’s it going, Lloyd?”
“Can’t complain.” Lloyd wasn’t as handsome as his brother, but he was better husband material. Sadie could tell just by the way he looked at his wife.
“I heard you were back in town.” He gave her a quick hug. “How’s your daddy doin’?”
“Good and getting better.”
She pointed to the pool table. “Who’s winning?”
“Cain.” Lloyd raised a beer to his lips. “He’s a hustler.”
In more ways than one. Cain came around the table and gave her a hug that lingered a bit longer than his brother’s. “Lookin’ good, Sadie Jo.”
“Thanks.”
Winnie followed Lloyd as he moved around the table and eyed his next possible shot. She told him exactly where he should hit the ball and how hard. “I was doing fine before you walked up,” Lloyd complained.
“Where ya’ been hangin’ your hat these days?” Cain asked.
“Phoenix.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Wanna play me next after I finish kicking Lloyd’s behind?”
“You gonna let me win?”
“No, but if you kick my butt I’m gonna tell everyone that I let you win.”
She laughed and shook her head. She was in Texas. Flirting was just another form of conversation. She glanced at Vince as he rose up from the table. Another time, another day, she might have flirted back a little with Cain. Tonight she just didn’t feel like it. Not that it had anything to do with the SEAL with the light green eyes. She just wasn’t in the mood and didn’t want to give Cain ideas. “Maybe next time,” she said, and moved from beneath his arm. Within the crowd surrounding the tables, she stood ten feet from Vince. Close enough to recognize the deep timbre of his voice and the answering laughter of the three women she was now close enough to identify.
The two women in the matching straw hats were the Young sisters. Not twins, but they looked enough alike that they could pass. Sadie recognized the redhead playing pool, too. Deeann Gunderson. All three women were close to Sadie’s age, but had been raised in Amarillo. She’d gone to charm school with them. They’d passed due to skill. She’d passed due to her last name, and the Young girls had never failed to point that out.
“I’m runnin’ to the girls’ room inside the Albertson’s. I hate those Porta Potties,” Winnie announced, and pointed to a row of blue portable outhouses across the parking lot. “You gonna be here for a while yet?”
“I think so.”
She watched Winnie move between the tables and past a skinny teen in full dress code compliance. He wore a big black Stetson and a Texas flag shirt with one enormous star on the back.
She took a step back out of Lloyd’s way and bumped into someone. “Excuse me,” she said, and looked over her shoulder into Jane Young’s hazel eyes.
“Sadie Jo Hollowell,” Jane said, drawing out her vowels. “It’s been forev-ah.”
It had been a long time, and Sadie didn’t believe in holding anyone’s nasty teenage past against them. Lord knew, she hadn’t always been so sweet herself. “Hello, Jane and Pammy.” She gave the sisters a hug, then turned to the third woman standing with them. “How are you, Deeann?”
“I have nothing to complain about.” She laughed, and her smile was genuine. “But that never stops me. How’s your daddy?”
“Good and getting better. Thanks for asking.” She turned her attention to Vince, who twisted a small cube of blue chalk on the tip of his cue. “I see you’re making friends.” It had been almost two weeks since she’d seen Vince at the Gas and Go. Two weeks since he’d told her she looked like shit and that she owed him. Two weeks since she’d told him that her orgasm was worth only forty cents.
“Sadie.”
“Y’all know each other?”
She glanced at Jane, then returned her gaze to Vince. “Yes. He had trouble with his truck and I gave him a ride into town.” Since she didn’t want to discuss the other ways she knew Vince, she turned the subject. “Jane, Pammy, and Deeann and I went to Ms. Naomi’s Charm School together,” she told Vince. “They were much better at the Texas dip than I was.”
Vince looked at all four women. “What’s in it?”
Jane and Pammy laughed. “That’s funny.”
“The Texas dip is a debutante curtsy,” Deeann explained as she handed her cue to Pammy. She moved to a clear spot several feet away, then she extended her arms out to her sides and slowly bowed like a swan until her forehead almost touched the ground.
Sadie looked up from Deeann’s flowing red hair to Vince, who watched with one brow cocked. He set the chalk on the edge of the table, then moved to the other side. He leaned his big body over the table and lined up a shot. The long cue slid between his knuckles as the Christmas lights shone in his dark hair and black shirt. She couldn’t tell if he was impressed with Deeann or not.
Deeann rejoined them and took her cue. “I can still dip.”
“Wow, I wasn’t even that limber at seventeen. Very impressive.”
“Remember when you tripped on your train at the Cotton Cotillion and your rose headdress fell off?” Pammy reminded Sadie, like she’d ever forget. After that, she hadn’t really bothered to pile and pin and spray her hair into a headdress of any kind. She’d just worn her hair straight, which had caused a bigger scandal than the headdress debacle.
“That was tragic.” Both sisters laughed as they had years ago, and Sadie guessed they hadn’t changed much over the past ten years. What the women didn’t know was that Sadie didn’t care. They no longer had the power to make her feel bad about herself.