Betting the Rainbow (Harmony) (18 page)

Chapter 30

TRUMAN FARM

N
OAH WOKE UP ON THE COUCH IN
R
EAGAN’S OLD PARLOR.
She’d updated some of the furniture and lightened the room with beautiful antiques, but the pictures of all the dead Truman relatives were still hanging on the walls, spruced up in new frames. That was his Reagan. She liked the feeling of having family close, no matter how ugly they were.

His Reagan. His Reagan?

He closed his eyes and listened to voices coming from the direction of the dining room. The fight. Reagan’s hurt look. The stupid things he’d done. All drifted back into his brain like smoke from a dying fire. If wishing he were dead shortened life, Noah figured he had a matter of minutes before he stopped breathing.

The voices kept interrupting his self-hatred.

“Why’d you bring him here?” Rea snapped in anger.

“I don’t know.” Big’s deep voice sounded almost whiny. “My nose was bleeding. It’s hard to think when you’ve turned into a human faucet. I knew Ester was still here and she’d fix me up, so I just headed your direction. I wasn’t thinking about Noah folded over my shoulder. I just wanted to get to her.”

Reagan sounded frustrated. “But why’d you bring Noah back
here
? Couldn’t someone else take him somewhere else? Couldn’t you have just left him in the dirt? Hank would have taken him home.”

“Hank said I knocked him out, he was my problem. He wouldn’t even let us in his truck. Said we’d bleed all over it. He drove off without even waving good-bye. Downright unfriendly, if you ask me.”

“Oh, forget it, Big. When he wakes up I’ll have someone drop him off at a McAllen’s door. One of his cousins will have to take him in, because he’s NOT staying here.”

Noah decided he’d be wise to stay unconscious for a while. It might be his only way to survive on Truman land.

“How’s your nose?” Rea asked more softly.

“I think it’s about stopped bleeding. I can’t believe he busted my nose. I always thought my nose was my best feature and now it’ll probably point toward my left ear,” Big whined. “I swear if he hadn’t pushed me, I planned to let him hit me till he got tired. But, hell, Rea, he sure knows how to get on a man’s bad side.”

“I think he’s about on everyone’s bad side.”

“I don’t care. My nose hurts.”

“Well, how do you think Noah’s going to feel when he wakes up and finds out you knocked him out? Half the population of Harmony saw you carry him in here. The town hero just went down with one punch.”

Big laughed. “I told him I didn’t want to fight, but he kept calling me names. If he wakes up mad, you want me to knock him out again?”

“No. It probably wouldn’t do any good, but I’m not nursing him. I think Hank was right. You knocked him out. You got to take him with you when you leave.”

Noah cringed when he thought he heard the smack of a kiss.

“Don’t look so unhappy about it. I love you, Big,” Reagan said. “Take him home with you, would you? Or, drop him at Angel De La Cruz’s place. They used to rodeo together, maybe he’ll take him in.”

“Might be a good idea. The only difference in Angel and Noah is Angel was smart enough to get out while he had some brains left. Course, he does get that funny look in his eyes now and then like he’s thinking of running with the bulls or something crazy like that.”

Noah heard another smack.

“Thanks, Big,” she said.

“I know, I love you too,” Big answered. “But I got to tell you, it ain’t easy being your friend. Noah’s not good enough for you and I wouldn’t mind seeing him gone, but I hate seeing you look so sad. Want to tell me what he did this time?”

“Nope. You’ll find out soon enough. In this town secrets are like morning glories, they come out with the dawn. When you find out, you’ll probably go looking for him to hit him a few more times.”

Big’s answer came fast. “If you say so, I might as well go pound on him a few times before he wakes up. I plan on sleeping late in the morning with my Ester cuddled up close. I figure that’s about as near to heaven as I’ll ever get.” He laughed. “She’s a great cuddler, Rea.”

“I know, Big, you’ve told me before. She’s one lucky woman to have you. Maybe you should go on home. If you beat on Noah, much as he deserves it, you might make your nose start bleeding again, and that would cut into cuddling time.”

“You’re right.”

Noah only heard parts of the conversation from then on because they moved to the kitchen. He knew they were probably eating pie. Reagan made the best pies in Texas. He wished he could join them, but he doubted he’d be welcome.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but in the few hours he’d been home, he’d managed to mess up every relationship in his life. Rea hated him, Big wanted to beat on him, and his sister and Hank probably wouldn’t answer their door if he knocked. Hell, even Harley at the bar wasn’t speaking to him. With his luck the Red Hat ladies would clobber him with their purses if he stepped on the porch.

Slowly, he stood and picked up his hat. Without a sound, he walked out of Reagan’s house. In the night he slipped away from all the people still milling around and caught a ride back to town. He could think of nowhere he wanted to be, so he crawled into his pickup and went to sleep thinking tomorrow had to be a better day, because this one was running on being the worst he’d ever had.

At dawn he had a headache, with bruises running along his left jaw, and his ears were still ringing. Noah figured he’d have to get better to have the energy to die.

After drinking a cup of coffee with friendly Harley, who didn’t say anything but “That’ll be a buck,” Noah drove over to his parents’ house and picked up all the camping equipment he could find. Of course, they were gone. They were always gone. Since they got back together, life had been one long honeymoon for them. Half the time Noah swore they forgot they even had kids.

By noon, he’d set up camp next to the falling-down remains of what had once been his great-grandfather’s house. The land should have gone to his brother, Warren, but after Warren was shot in the line of duty as a highway patrolman, Noah’s father lost all interest in the small ranch. He deeded it to Noah when Noah turned eighteen.

For a few years Noah tried to keep it up, even ran a few head of cattle on it, but he wasn’t home enough and soon the place went to ruin. The north wall of the main house had fallen in and Noah guessed wild animals were living in what had once been his bedroom. If his family found out, they’d probably adopt the hogs and saw him off the family tree.

The ranch, which had been meant to be passed down to every generation, was no more than mesquite trees and tumbleweeds now. Fences were down, the roads were barely passable, and he had no idea if the well still functioned. When he was in high school, Noah had dreamed of raising horses here, but sometime over the years he’d given up on that dream.

He set up the old tent he’d used in Boy Scouts and unfolded a chair. It was too hot to even think about building a fire. He decided that when he got hungry, he’d drive into town and bring back takeout. Living real cowboy style, he thought.

Not exactly roughing it like his great-grandfather did, but evidently, Noah wasn’t made of hardy stuff. Last night one woman had stomped on his heart and one blow had knocked him out. With his luck his great-grandfather would rise from the grave and drop by to kick his ass as well.

Wallowing in self-pity seemed to be his only plan for the day.

“Home,” he said aloud as he leaned back in his folding chair. He had enough money in the bank to live in the best hotel around or even buy a house in town, but right now he didn’t feel fit for civilization. Maybe he needed to live off the land for a while. Civilization didn’t seem to want him. If the Texas panhandle had had a few trees, he’d have considered becoming a mountain man for the rest of his life.

“Speaking of living.” Noah grinned at a jackrabbit hopping across the field. “Here comes breakfast. All I have to do is catch it, kill it, skin it, and cook it.” On second thought, he might be dead of starvation before he could do all that.

The rabbit disappeared over the shoulder of the dirt road as a pickup plowed toward Noah.

Noah didn’t move. He just watched as Hank climbed out of his truck. His only brother-in-law was still frowning.

“You didn’t happen to bring breakfast?” Noah yelled.

Hank shook his head. “It’s past lunchtime. Most folks have worked half the day by now.”

Noah nodded, as if that made any sense to his stomach. “What are you doing out here, Hank? Did my sister tell you to drive over here to lecture me?”

“Yep,” Hank answered, as he pulled another folding chair up in the dirt and sat down. “Noah, it’s about time you grew up.”

Noah waited for the rest. About how he should stop drinking, give up the rodeo, and become a family man. Take responsibility for his life, love Reagan like everyone in town thought he should. Hell, Hank would probably throw in “join the volunteer fire department” for good measure.

But Hank didn’t say another word. He just sat there, staring at Noah like he was watching a chipped fender rust.

“That’s all?” Noah finally broke the silence. “That’s the worst lecture I’ve ever had.”

“That’s all,” Hank said. “You grow up and man up, and we’ll all be happy.”

“What about me?”

Hank shrugged. “You happy now, Noah?”

“No,” Noah admitted. He hadn’t been happy for a long time. Not even the wins made him happy. When he was home, all he thought about was getting back on the road, and when he was on the road, all he thought about was getting back home.

Hank finally stood. “Don’t make me drive all the way out here to have this talk again.” He walked to his truck and drove off.

Noah stared at the dust, deciding Hank Matheson might be the smartest man he’d ever met. Some men have to climb a mountain in Tibet to get that kind of advice.

He stood and walked over to what was left of the house he grew up in. Noah knew little about building, but he decided before he could build anything he’d need to haul off the trash, so he spent the rest of the day moving truckloads of broken windows, boards, and a few thousand tumbleweeds to a trash fire in a clearing.

Then, with a dozen tacos from the drive-through in Harmony, he sat on the hood of his truck and watched all the trash burn. Tumbleweeds lit up like Christmas trees while dead branches popped in the fire. He had the feeling his whole life was ablaze and he had no idea how to put out the fire.

As the smoke blended with the night clouds, Noah realized he’d have to fix himself first before he could even try to go back and fix what was wrong with his relationship with everyone in town. Right now he guessed he could win an election as the most hated man in town.

He tossed an unopened bottle of beer in the fire and reached for the water in his truck. Leaning back, he stared up at the stars.

His drinking days were over. That would be his first step.

Chapter 31

DELANEY FARM

D
USTI AND
A
BBY WENT BACK TO THE HOUSE MAKING PLANS.
With her ticket came three nights in a hotel and forty dollars a day for food. If she took crackers and stole food off the breakfast buffet, she could live on one meal a day and save the extra for cab fare to and from the airport.

Abby kept crying and saying how she couldn’t believe her dream of finishing school might really be about to happen. “You can make the top ten, Dusti. You’re good, really good. Just think, you beat Kieran.”

Dusti caught herself brushing her fingers over Kieran’s old camera and thinking that the “beating Kieran” part didn’t make her as happy as she’d thought it might. She wished he were with them to celebrate, but now wasn’t the time.

A little after one in the morning Abby went to bed, but Dusti stayed up, working in her darkroom. It felt so good to be doing something she loved again. The smell of the chemicals, the shadows dancing in the darkroom’s one light, the feel of wet paper against her fingers. When they’d had to sell her cameras she’d thought she’d never use this room again, only over the years she couldn’t bring herself to even rip the paper off the one window. It was like this was her one love and as long as she had this little darkroom in the corner of the basement, she had hope of her dream coming true.

She wanted to be able to give Kieran one finished picture to take back. He’d taught her to play. She owed her one chance to him, and maybe a picture would let him know how grateful she was.

He’d said he was having breakfast with his grandmother at the Blue Moon Diner before driving to the airport. Dusti guessed if she could be at the diner by eight, she’d catch them. Even if they came in at opening time, Cass would never get them served and paid out before eight.

As she worked, the last hand she and Kieran had played turned over and over in her mind. Kieran had started the third round out strong, winning more hands than he lost. About the time Dusti was thinking she’d have to go all in sometime soon, she’d finally started winning.

And she’d kept winning.

It occurred to her that she hadn’t even seen his last two pocket cards. Not that it mattered. He couldn’t have had two aces with another showing on the table. That would make five aces in the deck.

He’d looked more tired than unhappy when he lost, she thought. Maybe because this was something he did often. Maybe losing at the very end was something that had happened before. Despite all the chips on the table, each man who walked away lost only twenty dollars and a long-shot chance of more. So Kieran had really only lost the buy-in.

Dusti closed her eyes and swore. She wished he’d at least kissed her before he left, but he’d walked out with some of the others. He wasn’t likely to kiss her at the diner in the morning with half the town watching. Just her luck, the first guy she’d thrown herself at in two years and he’d slipped like egg yolk from her grasp.

If she didn’t keep her mind on something else, she’d wear out her imagination thinking of what making love to him would be like.

The sun was coming up when she finished the picture she wanted to give him. An enchanting shot of Kieran leaning against the side of the barn with the orchard reflecting off the metal sides as the sun went down. She’d played with it until the shot looked like it could have been taken last night or a hundred years ago. Timeless, she thought, and beautiful. The strong profile of an adventurer resting for a moment.

She hoped he’d like it. In an odd way the Scot looked totally at home next to the barn. He was watching the dancers with a slight smile on his lips.

Lips she’d probably never taste, Dusti reminded herself as she hung the picture to dry and ran upstairs to take a shower and get dressed.

In the shower she decided he might be a bad kisser. That might be why he didn’t even try.

No, that was impossible. Not with lips like that.

Maybe he didn’t know how? If he traveled he might not have had much opportunity.

If that was his problem, she’d teach him to kiss. After all, it would be only fair. He’d taught her to play poker.

Stepping out of the shower, she decided getting her mouth on Kieran’s would be her next goal in life. Some might think that shallow, but Dusti could do shallow.

As soon as she reached her gambling goal, she had the next project lined up. If he didn’t call for the date, she planned to start delivering eggs to his grandmother and pumping the old lady for information.

Even taking extra time with makeup and her hair, she still got to the diner before seven thirty. She waited a while, then went in, deciding she needed coffee to stay awake.

At nine, Kieran and his grandmother still hadn’t come. He’d said he had a morning flight. With the drive, he’d have to start before ten to make any morning flight.

Dusti paid her bill and walked out of the diner. Five minutes later when she drove up to Kieran’s grandmother’s house, his rental car wasn’t there.

Worry filled her more than anger. Something must have happened. Maybe his grandmother got sick or fell? The old lady had been living in the same house all Dusti’s life. Years ago, when their mother delivered eggs in town, Kieran’s grandmother was one of their sweetest customers.

Dusti knocked on the door, thinking of a dozen things that might have happened. He might have had a friend take the rental car in or planned to get Derwood to fly him over to catch his flight. Or maybe Kieran had flown himself to Harmony. He was a pilot, after all. She’d never even thought to ask if he had his own plane.

When Kieran’s grandmother answered the door, Dusti let out a sigh of relief.

Mrs. Mills’s hair had turned completely white and she’d rounded, but she still looked healthy and she was upright.

“Morning, dear,” she said, as if it had only been days and not years since she’d seen Dusti. “How may I help you today?”

“Hello, Mrs. Mills, I’m looking for Kieran. I brought him a gift and wanted to give it to him before he left.”

“Oh, he’s gone, dear, but he said if I saw you to tell you to keep the camera. His father had others.”

“All right. I’ll take care of it until he comes back.”

Mrs. Mills shook her head. “He won’t be back until Christmastime, dear.” She smiled. “He says he has to come in for my cooking, but I know it’s more likely he doesn’t want to spend time with either of his parents and their new spouses. I sometimes think when they left the marriage neither one remembered to take him. Maybe that’s why he never seems to land anywhere for more than a week.”

“He seems happy, though.” Dusti wasn’t sure what to say. She felt she’d just learned more about Kieran than he’d told her all week.

Mrs. Mills nodded. “I guess he is, but it seems to me he’s waiting to land somewhere he can belong. Until then, he’s just drifting, not getting attached to anyplace or anyone.”

Dusti walked away thinking about what Mrs. Mills had said. Maybe the old girl was right. It somehow fit. Maybe he wanted the pictures to make his place seem like home. But if that was true, even with all the world to pick from, Harmony must be the closest thing to home he had.

She fought down tears. The man she’d thought had it all figured out had nowhere to land.

She’d send him all the pictures of the farm last night and a hundred more of Harmony. If he wanted to feel at home, she could give him that, if only in pictures.