By Friday afternoon, Rose had put a pretty crystal candy dish filled with chocolates in one of the bedrooms—one that did not have a patched hole from bullet holes. She’d arranged a lovely bouquet of mixed flowers in a vase for the dresser, turned down the bed, and had a bottle of champagne cooling in a pretty bucket filled with ice. She was busy chasing Chester out of the room and off the bed again when she heard a rapping on the door.
When the Davises arrived, she met them at the door and even carried their suitcase up the stairs for them. With his tail held high, Chester followed her up the steps, like he was the butler. She showed the sweet little lady with gray hair, and her dignified-looking husband with wire-rimmed glasses and a head of silver hair, to the room.
“If y’all need anything, just call me,” Rose said as she shooed Chester out—again.
“This is the very room that we stayed in our first night,” Edna said.
“Only then, I had the strength to carry you over the threshold, darlin’,” her husband said.
“Well, darlin’,” Edna giggled. “I was sixty pounds smaller then too.” She turned back to Rose. “We’ll rest a little while and then we plan on meeting up with some friends for supper and maybe a movie. It’s the couple that was our best man and maid of honor at our wedding. We’ll be back by eleven at the latest.”
“Thanks for letting me know. Your room key will let you in the front door if you get back early, and breakfast will be ready at eight,” Rose said as she closed the door.
Chester raced ahead of her and went straight to the kitchen. He sat in front of the refrigerator door until she got out his daily piece of fish, cut it up, and put it on his plate. He ate all that, and then batted one of his toys around the living room while she looked up simple recipes for muffins. Her plan was to make muffins and serve them with a side of fresh fruit the next morning. If they flopped, she’d rush down to the pastry shop and buy a dozen, but she’d love to tell Aunt Molly that she managed for at least one day.
Chester dashed behind the sofa and brought out an argyle sock, fought with it for a few minutes, then dragged it back to where he’d found it. In a couple of minutes, he brought out a bright pink sock with black cats all over it.
“What have you got back there?” Rose asked as she stood up and pulled the sofa out from the wall. There was a whole pile of socks—every color, every style from men’s to ladies’. “Good grief, you’re a sock thief. I bet Aunt Molly doesn’t know about this.”
Chester jumped up on the sofa, bounded over the back, and looked like a flying squirrel spreading out over his pile of contraband. He looked up at her with his yellow eyes as if asking her to keep his secret.
“I won’t tattle if you don’t tell on me,” she whispered.
Chester meowed at her.
“Okay, then, deal.” She stuck her hand down over the back of the sofa, and he slapped at it.
“Be careful, boy,” she warned. “I can show all this to Aunt Molly.”
Her phone rang and Chester took off like he’d been shot. Rose was giggling when she answered it. “You’ll never believe what a stash I’ve found.”
“What kind? Liquor or chocolate, or maybe a cheesecake in the freezer?” Hud chuckled.
“Socks,” she said and told him what she’d found. “Evidently Chester is a thief. I wonder if the folks who stay here think the place is haunted by a sock-stealing ghost.”
“How does he get into the rooms?”
“He has to be a sly critter,” she said. “I’ve got guests tonight. They’re here because they spent their honeymoon in this place years ago.”
“That’s romantic,” Hud said.
“It is, isn’t it?” She sighed.
“How long have they been married?” he asked.
“I didn’t ask, but I’d guess maybe forty or fifty years.”
“Out of all the places where you’ve been, where would you like to honeymoon?”
Wherever you are, she thought, but she said, “That would depend on who I marry.”
“Fair enough,” Hud said. “What I called for, other than to hear your voice, is to ask if seven is okay to pick you up tomorrow evening.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
“Hey, you want me to come over in the morning and help you make breakfast?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“I’ll stop by the store and bring what I need to make omelets and waffles,” he told her.
“Thank you so much. I’ve got fresh fruit cut up and thought I’d make muffins,” she said.
“That sounds good. What kind of muffins?” he asked.
“I was just lookin’ at recipes,” she said.
“I’m not much at baking, but…”
“Hey, if you’re willing to help me, I’m good with whatever you want to make. I told them I’d serve it at eight. Is that too early?” She’d rather be talking about things more romantic than cooking, but if working in the kitchen meant she could spend time with him, then that was fine.
“Okay, then, eight in the morning, and seven tomorrow evening. Getting to see you twice in one day is great,” he said.
“You could come over this evening and keep me company,” she suggested.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he said.
“See you then. Don’t knock. Just come on in. I don’t want to disturb the guests.” She ended the call and pushed the sofa back with her knees.
Chester peeked around the door and dragged what Rose hoped was another sock and not a dead mouse across the floor. He dashed behind the sofa with his prize and set up a loud meowing.
Edna poked her head into the room. “I hate to bother you, but that cat sneaked into our room when I opened the door, and grabbed one of Abe’s socks. I chased him down here, but he’s a fast critter.”
Rose pulled the sofa out again. She and Edna put their knees on the cushions and peered over the back.
“Take your choice,” Rose said.
Edna laughed. “The argyle is the one we lost last year on our anniversary, and that dark red one is the one I was chasing the cat for tonight. What’s funny is that the argyle is the socks that he was wearing when we married, and he only wears them on anniversary time. He was disappointed that he didn’t have both of them to wear this year. I’m glad to find it.”
She reached down and got both socks. “You’ll think we’re crazy, but I saved that single sock even when we thought this one was lost.”
“No, ma’am, I think it’s kind of sweet,” Rose told her.
“I can’t wait to get back up to our room. This is a fantastic anniversary present.” Edna hurried out of the room.
She’d barely disappeared when Rose heard the front door open. Hud carried in a bag of groceries and went straight for the kitchen. “I didn’t have to go to the store. Had everything at the house.” He put the eggs and sausage in the refrigerator, and set a small waffle maker on the cabinet.
“Chester stole another sock, and…” She told him all about the argyle. “Would you do something like that?”
“Sure I would.” He nodded. “It sounds like a really neat thing to do. I wonder if she wears something that she wore to the wedding too.”
“I bet it’s that little brooch she had on her dress. It was shaped like a double heart, and she kept touching it,” Rose whispered.
“You’re probably right.” He removed his phone from his hip pocket, toyed with the front of it a little bit, and laid it on the cabinet. “You said it had been a while since you’ve been out to a honky-tonk.” He picked up her hand and said, “May I have this dance, ma’am?”
Her arms snaked up around his neck and his went to her waist. They were the only ones in the whole world as they danced to “I Cross My Heart” by George Strait. He sang the words with George, and she believed every one of them. That song ended and another one began.
“I kinda made a playlist while I was plowing this morning,” he said.
After half an hour, Lonestar finished up the concert with “Amazed.”
She stepped back, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for a lovely evening. Want a beer?”
“Only if we can take it outside and look at the stars,” he said.
“It’s cold out there,” she said.
“We can keep each other warm.”
She believed him. Just looking up into his eyes warmed her from the inside out. “I’ll get the beers. You get the quilt from the back of the sofa. We might want it to sit on.”
“Or wrap up in it and pretend that we’re the only people on Earth.”
Now that was romantic for sure, and it echoed exactly what she was thinking. She pulled two beers from the refrigerator and followed him to the foyer, where he helped her put on her coat. Chester did his best to get out of the house, but she managed to shove him back inside and close the door.
They sat down on the swing and he covered them both with the quilt. “Once a year let’s celebrate this night by wrapping up in a quilt and sharing a couple of beers.”
“I like that idea a lot,” she said.
“No matter where we are in our life, let’s remember the good times,” he whispered as he kissed her for the first time that evening.
Words weren’t necessary that cold winter night. They made out until they were breathless and then she fell asleep in his arms. When she awoke, she was lying on the sofa, with Chester staring down at her from the arm. The smell of coffee and sausage filled the air. The clock on the far wall said that it was seven thirty.
She sat up so fast that she got light-headed. Chester took off in a flash, and then Hud was right there, holding a cup of coffee out toward her.
“Good mornin’.” He sat down beside her and kissed her on the cheek. “It was nearly dawn when I woke up, so I just brought you in and started the coffee.”
She almost told him right then that she loved him, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth.
“I’ll have to leave soon as breakfast is served. Tag and I are still plowing fields,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“So are you,” he told her.
* * *
The Davis couple left right after breakfast that morning. Hud offered to stick around and help with cleanup, but Rose shooed him out of the house and called her mother.
“Can you talk?” Rose asked.
“It’s a great time,” Echo told her. “Your father is over in Harlan finishin’ up a project and won’t be home until suppertime.”
“I might be in love,” Rose blurted out.
“I’m not surprised,” Echo told her. “Hud Baker stole your heart when we were in Texas, and he never gave it back.”
“But, Mama, I was just a kid then. I’m a full-grown adult now. Times have changed. I have changed,” she argued.
“Honey, the heart doesn’t change, and when it gets set on something, that’s what it wants,” Echo told her.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Rose paced back and forth across the living room floor.
“You can’t do anything about the way he feels,” Echo replied. “The only emotions you’re in control of are yours.”
Rose almost stumbled over Chester when he ran across the room. “Dammit!”
“Sorry, but that’s the way it is.” Echo giggled.
“I wasn’t talking to you. Chester just about tripped me,” Rose explained. “But don’t you sometimes wish you could control Daddy—just a little bit.”
Echo laughed out loud. “I’m not sure anyone, including Paul O’Malley, can get that job done. Maybe you need to get out of the forest so you can see the trees. Come home for a few days or weeks. Get a fresh perspective on things.”
“I’ll be coming that way soon as Aunt Molly gets back,” Rose said.
“I can hardly wait,” Echo told her. “But right now I should go out to the kitchen and get the chocolate cakes made for supper. I love you, Cactus Rose.”
“Love you,” Rose said as she ended the call.
That word, home, stuck in her mind. She’d read that home is where the heart is, so where was it located?
“Well, it’s damn sure not in a place where they call me Cactus,” she muttered.
* * *
Rose wore the same cowboy boots that she’d worn the night they’d gone square dancing. She brushed them off with a tissue, pulled on a pair of skinny jeans, and topped them off with a form-fitted shirt that had lots of black lace inserts. She spent a little extra time on her makeup and curled her long hair. Then she put the boots on, and was all the way to the bottom of the stairs when she heard Hud’s knock.
When she opened the door, Hud said, “Well, dammit! I left my handcuffs at home.”
“Why would you need cuffs?” she asked.
“Because it’s a crime to look that good, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’ll be the luckiest cowboy at the Rusty Spur.”
“I’ve got cuffs if you don’t mind pink velvet,” she teased.
Hud’s eyes just about popped right out of his head. “Are you serious?”
“I do keep a few secrets.” She handed him her jacket and winked.
He helped her get it on and then escorted her out to the truck with his hand on her lower back. When he opened the door for her, he asked, “What other secrets have you got hidden away?”
“It would take a lifetime to tell you all of them.” She hopped into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. “Do you have secrets?”
“A few, but I’d like to make a bunch more with you.” He shut the door and whistled all the way around the front end of the truck.
He’d left the engine running, so the headlights lit up the way he filled out those snug jeans. Beneath his suede jacket he wore a light green western shirt with pearl snaps. Her fingers longed to start at the top of his throat and pull hard enough that all the snaps popped open one by one. Or better yet, undo them slowly one at a time and run her hands through the soft brown hair on his chest. By the time he got behind the wheel, her wild imagination had her wishing that she really did own velvet handcuffs.
“How far is it to the Rusty Spur?” she asked.
“Not far,” he answered. “Maybe ten minutes. Tell me one of your secrets on the way.”
“Only if you tell me one of yours first,” she told him.
“Fair enough. This isn’t really a secret, but no one would believe me, so it kind of is the same thing. You are the first woman I’ve ever taken to a honky-tonk,” he said.
“Good lord, Hud!” It was her turn to go all buggy eyed. “Are you serious?”
He raised a hand. “As serious and as sober as a judge. I usually go with the guys. Sometimes, I get lucky and go home with a lady, or take one home with me. I’m not a saint, Rose.”
“I haven’t located any wings or a halo, so I wasn’t thinking you were,” she said.
“Now your turn,” he said.
“All right, but it’s a big secret,” she whispered. “I’m not a saint, either. That said, though, I don’t do one-night stands. If there’s not a possibility of some kind of future with a guy, I don’t lead him on.”
“That’s pretty honest,” he said with a nod, “and you may not be a saint, but I swear I can see a halo above your head tonight, so you must be an angel.”
“If I am, it’s a honky-tonk angel,” she said. “Hey, Elvis Presley sang about that, I think.”
“Are you going to be my honky-tonk angel tonight?” Hud pulled into a gravel parking lot with a metal building set at the back of the property.
She’d lived in Texas as a teenager and in her travels, she’d seen lots of honky-tonks, and after she’d enlisted, she’d even been in a few. But the old rustic building in front of her looked more like something she’d seen in the movies with its swinging doors and a wide front porch with a hitching rail.
“This is the Rusty Spur?” she asked.
“Yep, disappointed?” he asked.
“No, just surprised.” She unfastened her seat belt. “What’s it look like inside?”
“Rather than tell you, I’ll show you, but promise me that you’ll save the last dance for me.” He turned the engine off.
“Every dance belongs to you,” she told him, “unless you want to dance with another woman.”
“No way, darlin’. I’ve got the most beautiful girl in Texas with me tonight, and I’m spending all the time I can with her.” He got out of the truck and came around to open her door.
She looped her arm into his, and they crossed the parking lot together. “Well, I do believe I’m with the sexiest cowboy in all of Texas.”
“Awww, shucks.” He grinned as he paid the man at the door the entry fee for both of them.
A dozen barstools lined up in front of a long, shiny bar to her right that stretched from one end of the building to the other. Bottles of liquor on shelves lined the wall behind it, and there were two beer stations, one on either end.
She tiptoed so she could talk to Hud above the loud jukebox music. “Now, this is a honky-tonk.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve been to bars and clubs, but nothing like this,” she said above the noise of a full house. Only one table was empty among the half a dozen lining the far walls. At least twenty people were on the sawdust-covered floor, doing a line dance to “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” by Brooks & Dunn.
He helped her out of her jacket and hung it on the back of a chair and did the same with his coat. Then he held out his hand. “May I have this dance, ma’am.”
Blake Shelton’s “God Gave Me You” started to play when she put her hand in his, and he twirled her around once before he brought her back to his chest. With one hand on his shoulder and the other tucked into his hand, she was amazed that she could keep up with his smooth moves.
“This is my song to you, tonight,” Hud whispered. “Like the words say, I really need you to stay beside me as the storms blow through.”
She looked up into his green eyes. “Well, honey, we sure have had some storms already, haven’t we?”
He sang along when the lyrics said that God had given her to him for the ups and downs. She made up her mind right there on the dance floor that she was going to walk down the aisle to that song when and if she ever got married.
The next one up on the jukebox was “Walk Me Down the Middle” by The Band Perry. It was slower than the previous tune and talked about being a misfit. When she got to go to public school, her daddy still had strict rules. She hadn’t been allowed to wear makeup. She wasn’t permitted to have a cell phone or even a phone at home to talk to friends. She had to dress modestly. Jeans and shirts were fine, but none of that had intimidated her. She was like a free bird out in the big wide world, and she had a lot to discover.
“Would you do that—walk me down the middle of the county fair?” Rose asked.
“Darlin’, I’d walk you anywhere you want to go and be proud to hold your hand for the whole world to see,” he vowed.
The look in his eyes told her that he was telling the truth, and she felt like she was floating on air for the rest of the night.
* * *
It was past midnight when Hud walked Rose to the door of the B&B. True to her word, she’d danced only with him all evening, and between times, she’d held hands with him across the table.
“I’m too wired up to sleep.” She turned back to him when she’d unlocked the door. “Want to come in for a cup of hot chocolate, and maybe some doughnuts? I think there’s some of those little white powdered ones left. Aunt Luna was partial to them.”
“Love to,” he said.
She stepped inside, dropped her coat on a ladder-back chair in the foyer, and headed to the kitchen. “I never learned to cook, but I can make a mean cup of hot chocolate.”
“Are you hungry?” He followed behind her.
“Starving,” she said. “I was too nervous to eat supper.”
“Why were you nervous? Got news from Aunt Luna?” he asked.
“Nope.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve got a confession. I was afraid of the same thing. I worried more about what shirt to wear tonight than I ever have before. I played through dozens of scenarios in my head—from what would I do if some other cowboy swept you off your feet, to how would I react if you hated the Rusty Spur and never wanted to talk to me again.”
“I didn’t know guys even thought like that.” She tiptoed and kissed him—long and lingering.
When the kiss ended, he took a step back. “Darlin’, very many more of those and we’ll burn this house down with the heat, which I got to say, wouldn’t be a bad way to go.”
He went to the refrigerator and brought out peppers, cheese, eggs, and sausage.
“Instead of hot chocolate, I’ll make a pot of coffee.” She bent over to get the container from the bottom shelf of the fridge. There was her perfectly rounded butt, only a few inches him, and he had a carton of eggs in one hand and a block of cheese in the other. Sometimes a cowboy just couldn’t win.
When he’d finished making the omelets, they sat down at the small kitchen table. “Why didn’t you ever learn to cook?” he asked.
“It was my one act of rebellion. I liked going to school, and didn’t even mind Mama homeschooling me, but I didn’t want to live in the commune. So when all the other girls went with the women to the kitchen to learn how to cook, I’d run off to the woods and study my languages,” she told him between bites.
“How? Did you have books for that?” Hud took a sip of coffee, made just to his taste—strong and black.
“No, I actually had a CD player. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to use it for vanity—like music—but I had the CDs for different languages. When we lived on the beach and down near the bayou, Mama learned a couple with me, during my homeschooling lessons, but Daddy didn’t like it so much, so she quit,” Rose answered.
“How many did you learn?” Hud asked.
“Seven, plus English.” She buttered a second piece of toast and then smeared grape jelly on it. “No, six. I learned Farsi after I got into the army. I know seven now and, of course, English makes eight.” Her eyes twinkled. “Unless you count Kentucky Redneck as a language. If so, that would make nine.”
He chuckled. “I guess that means you can cuss me out seven ways to Sunday, and I won’t know what you’re sayin’.”
“You’ll know by the tone.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Let’s go to the living room. I’ll take care of the cleanup later. My feet hurt from so much dancing. I’m going to kick off my shoes and—”
He took her hand in his and kissed the palm, then scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the living room. He put her down on one end of the sofa, and removed her shoes, then he sat on the other end and put both her feet in his lap. He picked up the left one and began to gently massage her heel and slowly moved up to the ball of her foot.
Rose moaned. “That feels so good.”
When he finished with that foot, he kissed it, then met her gaze and slowly crawled up her body until he was lying on top of her. His lips came down on hers in a long, hard kiss. One led to another until they were both breathless.
“What are we doing, Rose? Where is this headed?” he asked.
“We’re making out, and I was thinking that we’d move it up to my bedroom and get out those handcuffs you’ve been thinkin’ about all night,” she teased.
He propped up on his elbows. “You’ve really got cuffs?”
“No, but, honey, I don’t think that we’ll need any kinky stuff.” She wiggled her way out from under him and led him across the floor. On the first step she stopped to unsnap his shirt in one easy motion. He was already about to break the zipper in his jeans, and when she ran her hands over his chest, he groaned out loud.
She moved up a couple of steps. He placed one of his boots on the first step, making her lips and his on the same level. While he smothered her with more kisses, he unfastened her shirt and cupped a breast in his hand. God, she felt so good.
“Sweet lord,” she muttered when he removed her shirt and bra and kissed both breasts. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were both naked and Hud was on fire.
“Which one is your bedroom?” He pushed her hair back with his hands, cupped her cheeks, and stared into her eyes.
She took him by the hand and led him across the hallway to a bedroom. Moonlight flowed through the window at the head of the bed, giving him just enough light to see her expressions.
He laid her on the bed. “You are so beautiful, Rose. I dreamed for years about this night, but never thought it would happen.”
“I’ve ached for you,” she said. “Take me, please.”
“Got to get out some protection,” he said.
“I’ve started taking the pill,” she told him as she pulled him even closer.
He entered her and they began to work together in a perfect rhythm. He brought her to the edge of a climax, then slowed down, kissing her neck, her ears, her eyelids all the while. He wanted to last a long time, but things sped up so fast that he finally whispered her name in a hoarse Texas drawl, and then collapsed on her for a few seconds.
“Sweet Jesus!” she moaned.
“I’m sorry it didn’t last longer.” He rolled to the side but kept her in his arms. She pulled the chenille bedspread up around them, creating a cocoon where only the two of them existed.
“One more second and there would have been nothing left of us but bones and ashes. That was…no words. Just feeling and it was amazing.” She cuddled up closer to his side and closed her eyes. “Don’t leave me. Stay the night.”
Hud kissed her on the forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, darlin’.”