“I already love it,” Jasmine said when they parked in front of the Chicken Fried café. It was a two-story white frame building that had started out as a home in the thirties for the family who owned a car dealership right next door. In the sixties a couple bought it and put in the 81 Diner. That folded in the early seventies and they rented it out as a home for ten years before selling it in 1981 to Dottie Jones who turned it into a café again. When her husband died in 2000, she had renovations done on the upstairs and created a living space. Now she was seventy and needed a hip replacement. The stairs were difficult for her to climb and she wanted to retire. But no one wanted to buy a café out in the middle of nowhere.
“It is cute, but I wouldn’t want to cook for a living,” Lucy said from the back seat of the Caddy. “Have you eaten here, Pearl?”
“Few times with Gemma. She’s Rye’s sister who owns that beauty shop.” She pointed to the small building next door.
Jasmine beat them to the porch and sat down in one of the six white rocking chairs. “I like this idea. Sit and visit a spell instead of fast food and run. You got any idea what they’re askin’ for the place?”
Pearl shook her head. “It’s been for sale for a long time so I’m sure it’s negotiable. Dottie wants to move down to Beaumont and live close to her daughter and grandkids, so she might take a reasonable offer. And she needs hip surgery. She does the cookin’ and hires a waitress.”
“Would you change the name?” Lucy asked.
“No. I think Chicken Fried is cute. I even like the sign.” Jasmine pointed to the stenciled letters on the plate-glass window. She could see inside and there were only two open tables left. A waitress hustled from the dining room to the kitchen but took time to stop and talk to the customers. The whole atmosphere was laid-back and country.
“It’ll be more work than making brownies in an Easy-Bake Oven,” Pearl said.
“Mama will hate it,” Jasmine said.
Pearl led the way inside. “My mama hates my motel, but we gotta do what we gotta do, no matter who we upset.”
“Sit anywhere,” the waitress called out. “Menu is on the table. I’ll be right with you.”
Covered with red-and-white-checked oilcloth, each table had a lazy Susan with a sugar shaker, artificial sweetener, salt and pepper shakers, hot sauce, ketchup, and paper towel dispenser in the center. The laminated menu was printed on one sheet of paper and stuck between the hot sauce and the sugar shaker.
Jasmine picked it up and studied it. Each day there was a lunch special. That day it was turkey and dressing, green beans, mashed potatoes, and choice of cranberry or tossed salad. If a person didn’t want the plate special, then they could order burgers, grilled cheese, or chicken-fried steak, which came with a choice of mashed potatoes or fries, vegetable of the day, and a tossed salad.
She liked the setup but was already thinking about what desserts she’d offer to go with the lunch special. Hot yeast rolls would be a given, so one day she’d make iced cinnamon rolls. Another she would offer a choice of three or four pies.
“I see wheels turning in your head,” Lucy said.
“It’s a perfect size. I’d just need one waitress and I’d do the cooking,” she whispered.
They were so engrossed in the menu that they didn’t see Martha Jane Marshall until she was standing right beside Pearl and said, “Hello, may I join you ladies?”
Pearl was so startled that she nodded.
Martha Jane wore jeans, a red sweater, and cowboy boots, and her hair had that fresh-done look and smell. “I just came from Gemma’s. Got a perm and my eyebrows waxed so that’s why I look like I’ve been crying. Thought I’d stop in and have a hamburger since Jesse is off at a sale.”
Pearl made introductions as Martha Jane settled into the fourth chair. “These are my friends. Lucy, who works at the motel, and Jasmine, who might be interested in buying this place. This is Martha Jane, Wil’s mother.”
“I can see that,” Lucy said. “He has your pretty brown eyes.”
Martha Jane smiled. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Pearl, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for that comment that you heard as you were leaving the house the other day. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”
“Accepted, but what is it that you’ve got against red hair?” Pearl asked.
“It’s something I never told anyone else. Even Jesse doesn’t know part of it. But I wouldn’t stand in the way of my son’s happiness for anything in this world. Jesse was in love with a red-haired girl before I came into the picture. She taunted me horrible when me and Jesse started dating and said that she could have him back anytime she wanted. The day I married him she showed up at my house that morning and claimed that he slept with her the night before. After we were married, she told everyone that the illegitimate son she bore was Jesse’s child. She was a thorn in my side until she moved to California. I still pray every day that she never comes back to Texas.”
“Wow! I wouldn’t like redheads either,” Pearl said.
“Thank you!”
“Why didn’t you snatch her bald-headed and then slap her for not having any hair?” Pearl asked.
“I wasn’t as brazen then as I am now.”
“Too bad,” Jasmine said.
The waitress stopped at their table with a pad and looked at Martha Jane first. “You decided?”
“Yes, I want a hamburger with mustard and no onions. Fries and Diet Coke. And I’ll take the bill for this table today,” Martha Jane said.
The waitress looked at Jasmine.
“Chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, and sweet tea.”
“I’ll have the same,” Lucy said.
“I want the lunch special. What’s the vegetable of the day?” Pearl asked.
“Green beans with chunks of potatoes and ham.”
“Sounds good. Sweet tea, please.”
The waitress wrote the orders on her pad and disappeared toward the kitchen.
Pearl touched Martha Jane’s hand. “You don’t have to pay for lunch.”
Martha Jane held up a palm. “My treat. I insist.”
“You insist on what?” Wil asked from two feet away. He pulled a chair away from another table and pushed it up close to Pearl. “I didn’t know you were having lunch with my mother.”
“Neither did I.”
Wil leaned across the space and kissed Pearl softly on the lips. “Hello, darlin’.”
She always looked fantastic to him whether she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt to clean motel rooms or all dolled up for a New Year’s party, but that day looking at her made his mouth as dry as if he’d just crammed it full of sand. She wore faded jeans, a western shirt with pearl snaps left open over a soft light-green T-shirt. And she had on scuffed-up cowboy boots. This was his favorite version of Red and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
She reached under the tablecloth and squeezed his thigh.
He shot her a sexy grin.
“It wasn’t planned. We just happened to be in the same place at the same time. What brings you to Ringgold today?” Martha Jane asked.
“Chicken-fried steak,” he said.
The waitress came right over. “Your regular?”
He waved his hand around the whole table. “That’s right. Put it all on one ticket and I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.” Martha Jane smiled.
“But—” Pearl raised a hand and started to argue.
Wil grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his lap.
“So what is your first impression, Jasmine?” he asked.
“That I want to start to work tomorrow,” she answered.
“It’s gettin’ up early and working hard,” he said.
“Been doin’ that my whole life at something I didn’t even like. I’m goin’ to talk to the owner after we eat and see if I can set up an appointment to go over the books and then I’m going to make an offer. My mama is going to pitch a fit but it’s what I’ve always dreamed of doing.”
“Why would your mama pitch a fit?” Martha Jane asked.
“Because her daughter wasn’t supposed to be a cook,” Jasmine said.
“Your mama disappointed in you?” Martha Jane looked at Pearl.
“Probably.”
“How about you?” Martha Jane shifted her eyes to Lucy.
“My mama is so busy tryin’ to take care of kids and grandkids that she don’t have time to think about what I do for a livin’,” Lucy said.
“Well, I wish I’d had all y’all’s sass when I was your age,” Martha Jane said.
The waitress brought a burger and fries on a heavy white stone plate in one hand and two chicken-fried dinners lined up the other arm. She set them before Martha Jane, Jasmine, and Lucy, and went back to the kitchen for the other two plates which she set in front of Wil and Pearl. One more trip brought their drinks.
“Anything else I can get you folks?” she asked.
“We’re good,” Pearl said.
“Then I’ll leave the ticket with this good-lookin’ cowboy and y’all can fight him over it.” She handed it to Wil and was off to take orders from another couple who’d just arrived.
“God, this is good. Think she’ll give me the secret to making chicken-fried like this?” Jasmine said between bites.
“Buttermilk,” Lucy said.
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Buttermilk. First you roll the steak in flour, then egg and buttermilk whipped together, and then back in flour. Then you get the grease really hot and only turn the steak one time. Turn it any more and it’ll be soggy. Trick is to fry it fast but get it done without losing the breading.”
“You sure you don’t want to work for me rather than clean rooms at the motel? I’ll pay you more than Pearl pays you.”
Pearl slapped Jasmine on the arm. “Some friend you are. Stay at my motel and steal my friend.”
Lucy shook her head. “No, ma’am. I’m happy right where I am. I’ve had my share of hot kitchens and a man who didn’t appreciate a single minute of all the hard work.”
“Oh, you are divorced?” Martha Jane asked.
“You could say that,” Lucy said softly.
“And you grew up with Pearl?” Martha Jane asked Jasmine.
“I did. My mama and hers are best friends. She is two months older than me. Her birthday is two days after Valentine’s and I was born on Easter. Of course mine hasn’t been on Easter but a few times, but we always had a big pink party on her birthday.”
Wil had to let go of Pearl’s hand to eat his lunch but he kept a thigh snug against hers. So her birthday was only three weeks away. He filed that information away. Later he’d plan something special for her birthday. Maybe a quiet dinner for two with watermelon wine, rose petals, and satin sheets.
“I’m going over to Nocona to look at a good used tractor. Rancher over there has three for sale. I’m thinkin’ about buyin’ one. Want to go with me?” Wil asked Pearl.
“I’m driving,” Pearl said.
“No, I am driving,” he argued.
“I meant I drove over here in the Caddy.”
“Go on. I’ll drive the Caddy back to the motel when I’m finished talking to the owner. I promise I won’t hurt it,” Jasmine said.
“And I’ll tattle if she goes too fast or takes any stupid chances,” Lucy said.
“I don’t know much about tractors, except how to drive them,” Pearl said.
Martha Jane turned her head so fast that her neck popped loudly. “You know how to drive a tractor?”
“Sure she does,” Jasmine said. “Her father works at Texas Instruments, but he’s also got this big old cattle ranch over south of Sherman. He made her plow fields every spring and summer. Her mother about died at the thought of her baby girl out there on a tractor but John said it was good for her. One summer he made both of us work a whole week in the fields as punishment.”
“What did you do?” Lucy asked.
“We got into Daddy’s good bourbon and then filled the bottle up with water so he wouldn’t miss the liquor,” Pearl said.
“John Richland is your father?” Martha Jane said slowly.
Pearl nodded. “Don’t tar and feather me and run me out of town on a rail because of my heritage.”
“He’s bought cattle at our sale. Brought your mother to our sale last year. We had a very nice visit at the dinner afterward. So you are her daughter. I would have never guessed.”
“I look like an ancestor on Daddy’s side and I’m afraid I got her quick temper too. It’s a sore spot with Mama who is a prim and proper Southern lady,” Pearl said.
Wil’s dark eyebrows knitted together in a solid line. “A Southern lady?”
Pearl patted his arm. “You’ll do fine when you meet her on Sunday. You aren’t going to back out, are you?”
“I keep telling you that I’ll be there,” he said.
She nodded. It wasn’t easy to believe him, but then he’d never lied to her. It was that niggling old thing from her past that kept raising its ugly head to torment her. Vince’s mother hated her enough to send him away. Martha Jane had apologized, but how would she really, really feel about a red-haired daughter-in-law?
Pearl nodded. “Just don’t bring up Great-Granny Richland. She was an O’Connor before she married and spoke with an Irish lilt. Daddy said she was wild Irish to the bone and had flaming red hair,” Pearl said.
Wil polished off the last of his steak and pushed his plate back. “Okay, I’ll remember that. You going with me to look at tractors?”
“I don’t think so,” Pearl said.
“Go on,” Jasmine told her. “Lucy already said she’ll keep me in line.”
“Okay, but I need to be back in Henrietta by three for check-ins,” she said.
“I can do that. You get her back by bedtime, though,” Lucy said.
* * *
Wil kept time to the country music coming from the radio with his thumb on the steering wheel as they drove east. The sky was winter-blue with only a few wispy clouds on the horizon.
“You think Jasmine will really buy that café?” he asked when they reached the outskirts of Nocona.
Pearl nodded.
“Think she’ll get tired of it in six months and shut it down?”
Pearl shook her head.
“Not very talkative today, are you?”
“Well, you didn’t set the cab on fire with conversation the whole way over here so don’t blame me for the quietness. We’re like a wildfire, Wil. It’s hot as hell and destructive when it’s burning, but it dies out pretty quick. It scares me that we might be just two people who’ve had a helluva lot of wild, hot sex and there’s nothing left.”
He turned right and stopped the truck after he crossed the cattle guard. “You really believe that?”
“I don’t want to believe it but…” She let the sentence hang.
He pulled her across the seat to sit close to him, took her cheeks in his hands, and kissed her all over the face until she was giggling. The final kiss landed on her lips, and there was no doubt between them that the fire was a helluva lot more than a flash in the pan. He drove on and parked the truck in front of a barn.
She let herself out of the truck and yelled at the elderly man coming out of the barn. “Hear you got some tractors for sale.”
He pushed his sweat-stained old straw hat back on his head and grinned. “I got three for sale. How many you wantin’ to drive home today, darlin’?”
His striped overalls were worn at the knees and hung on his lanky frame; his boots were scuffed and down at the heels; his work jacket had patches on the elbows. He reminded Pearl of a scarecrow set out in the middle of a pumpkin patch to keep the birds from pecking holes in the pumpkins.
“Never know. If they are a buck ninety-nine a piece, I might just take all three,” she said.
“I reckon they’ll be a sight higher than that but I bet me and you can reach some kind of agreement. You like John Deere?”
“Love that shade of green.” She ran a hand over the biggest tractor like she was petting a horse. “Looks like you take care of your equipment.”
“Honey, my wife, God rest her soul, told me when we married that if I kept my barn and equipment as clean as she kept her house and her cookstove we’d get along fine. We made it sixty years. I’m Farris Smith. Who are you?”
“I’m Pearl. Your wife was a wise woman. Interested in selling her cookstove?” Pearl hopped up in the seat and wrapped her hands around the steering wheel.
“No, honey. My daughter wants it.”
“And I’m Wil Marshall, Mr. Smith.” Wil extended his hand. “I’m the one who called about the tractors. You say you got three for sale?”
Farris had a firm handshake in spite of his bony, veined hands. “That’s right. I’m sellin’ off what I can, and then I’m goin’ to make the folks who bought the farm a deal on what’s left over,” he said.
Wil walked around the middle-sized tractor that was in mint condition. It wasn’t new but it looked as if it had just rolled out of a display room.
“Why didn’t they want it all?” he asked.
“Got their own equipment. Live right next door. That’d be two section lines down the road. I got two sections and they’re makin’ their place double in size,” he explained. “Your wife is a pretty little thing. Bet she’s hell on wheels. Can you keep up with her?”
Pearl hopped off the tractor and joined the two men. Wil pulled her tight against him and kissed her on the top of the head.
“It’s tough but I manage. You know how these redheads are. They got a temper and you got to stay a step ahead of ’em all the time.”
Farris chuckled. “I sure do. My wife was a little short package like her. Didn’t have red hair but had them same green eyes.”
Pearl played along. “We got to have a temper or you old cowboys would run right over us.”
“She even sounds like my wife. You take care of her, Wil. Them kind is hard to come by. Now about these here tractors. I’ve got each one of them priced separate, but if you was willin’ to take all three I’d make you a mighty fine deal.”
“I don’t need but one. Maybe the middle-sized one,” Wil said.
“How good of a deal you talkin’ about?” Pearl asked.
“Tell you what. I ain’t had my dinner yet so I’m goin’ in the house and eat. Keys are in the tractors and there’s forty acres behind the barn of nothin’ but plowed-up ground. Take them out there and run them around the field a few times. See which one you want and then we’ll talk money.” With a wave, he headed for the house, a gray frame ranch-style place to the west of the barn.
Pearl shook loose from Wil and climbed up in the biggest tractor and looked down at him.
“You really know how to work the gears on that thing?” he asked.
She smiled at him, turned the key, and shut the door. She backed the tractor up, drove it around the barn and out into the field. It handled like a Caddy compared to the old worn-out piece of crap her father had made her drive all week in the hayfield that summer she and Jasmine got into trouble. It had a closed cab, air-conditioning, and even a radio.
Wil folded his hands across his chest and leaned against the rough wood at the back of the barn. She didn’t grind the gears a single time, and the tractor purred like a kitten in her hands. When she reached the end of the field, she turned around without a hitch and drove it back to the barn.
She hopped down from the cab, landed square on her feet, and looked up at him. “Drives like a Caddy. Air-conditioning and heat works fine. Radio picks up the country music station in Dallas loud and clear. Gears are tight. Cab is clean as the day it was bought. You can test this one while I see how the midsized one handles.”
“Don’t need to. I could see and hear it just fine. Take the next one around the field. It’s the one I’m most interested in,” Wil said.
“Don’t get in a hurry about making up your mind. He might make you a deal you can’t turn down on the whole lot of them. Bank would loan you the money on good equipment like this in a heartbeat,” she said.
Wil bit back a grin. He didn’t need to borrow money. He had cattle to outfit his ranch before he bought it and money left over after the sale from his rodeo days.
She drove the next tractor around the field and brought it back. “Just as well kept up as the bigger one. He’s used this one more. Ask about how many hours are on each one. I’ll bet this one has more than any of them because the seat is worn down more and the radio knob is looser.”
When she’d driven the smaller one and parked it she said, “This is my favorite. I betcha his wife drove it because I can almost smell her perfume still lingering in there. It turns on a dime and if I had a ranch, I’d buy it. Aren’t you going to drive them?”
Wil shook his head. “He’ll bring his books to show me how many hours they’ve been used and the upkeep. He looks honest. We’ll see what his askin’ price is on each one.”
She bounced up on the tailgate of the pickup truck and swung her legs like a little girl. Driving the tractors had been fun. “So tell me, why are you buying more equipment?”
“I told you already. The ranch next to mine is going to be up for grabs before long and I’d like to expand. More land could run more cattle. The Bar M takes care of itself, which means I raise my own feed for my cattle. So more cattle means more hay, which needs more land. I could use one more tractor right now. If I buy the land next to mine, I’ll need at least two more and a bunkhouse so I can hire more help. Jack and I do fairly well but it stretches us pretty thin in the spring and summer.”
“You like ranchin’, don’t you?”
He sat down beside her, his thigh tight against hers. “I love it. It’s all I’ve ever known.”
“You sound like my dad.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“He says that his job gets in the way of his ranchin’.”
“Guess it’s a good thing, then.”
“So which one are you going to buy and how much are you willin’ to pay for it?” she asked.
“Depends on how many hours are on each one. I could use the big one but the middle-sized one is probably more in my price range,” he said.
The back door of the house slammed and Farris took his time getting from the yard to the barn. He had a toothpick in the corner of his mouth and a quart jar of sweet tea in his hand.
“My wife woulda fussed at me for not offerin’ y’all something to drink. You want some tea, I’ll go on back in the house and fix you up a jar full.”
“We’re good,” Wil said. “You got some nice equipment here. Could I see the books to see how many hours are on each one?”
“Big boy there has three hundred. The middle one is the one I used the most and she’s got four hundred and fifty. Little girl was Mama’s tractor. She liked to get out in the field ever so often just to show me that she was still the boss. I hate to sell her but there ain’t no way I need her where I’m goin’. She’s got two hundred hours on her.” Farris leaned on the fender of the truck and looked lovingly at the three tractors.
Pearl patted his hand. “Got lots of good memories in those green things, haven’t you?”
Farris’s voice quavered when he answered. “Yes, missy, I sure do. Me and Mama made us a deal when we married. We wouldn’t never borrow no money for nothin’ and we wouldn’t buy on time. We saved a long time to buy our first tractor. It was a used John Deere and Mama worried that the mules we’d been plowin’ with would get their feelin’s hurt. We raised up four kids and times got hard sometimes, but we never went to the bank. I lost her three months ago. Ranch ain’t the same without her.”
“If the ranch don’t produce it, you don’t need it?” Pearl said.
“Don’t never go against that and you’ll be fine. I was askin’ fifty-five for the big one, fifty for the middle one, and forty for the little girl. I’d made up my mind to take a hundred thirty for all three but if you kids want them, I’ll take a hundred and twenty-five and be glad they’re goin’ to a good home. Crazy, ain’t it, how you get attached to equipment just like they was animals.”
“We’ll take them,” Pearl said without hesitating.
Wil’s eyes widened. He’d been prepared to part with sixty thousand that day but not a hundred and twenty-five thousand.
“You don’t think we’d better talk about it?” he asked Pearl in a tight-lipped, hoarse voice.
“No. It’s a good deal and I like that little girl real well. I think I’ll enjoy plowing up the fields with her and hookin’ up a hay fork on the front to take the big round bales to the feed lot,” she said. “You want to write Farris a check out of your account or should I?”
Wil almost swallowed his tongue. Was she willing to bankroll him?
“I’ll write a check. I can probably get over here Saturday with a truck to take them out of your way,” Wil said.
“That will work out just fine. Not that I don’t trust you kids, but that way I’ll be sure your check clears the bank by then.”
“I understand.” Wil reached for his checkbook inside his coat pocket. “I appreciate the good deal.”
“You kids keep up that business about not goin’ into debt and you’ll do just fine. I’ll go on in the house and bring the books out so you can see I’m not blowin’ smoke up your underbritches about the hours and the maintenance.”
When he was in the house and the door was closed, Wil turned to Pearl. “Why did you do that?”
“Because it’s a helluva deal. I was a loan officer at the bank in Durant. I know farm equipment. You should be dropping down on your knees and askin’ for forgiveness for stealing those tractors from Farris. His kids may put out a contract on you when they find out that you rinky-dooed him right out of them.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to spend that much money today. Maybe I don’t even have that much in my account,” he said.
“Then I’ll write half of it out of mine and claim the little girl as mine. I’ll pay you room and board for her and come visit her when I get a hankering to drive around in the fields.”
“Where did you get that much money?”
She pointed a long, slim finger at him. “Darlin’, don’t you worry about my bank account. If I wanted to buy those tractors and set them in the middle of the gravel parking lot at the Honeymoon Inn just to look at, I could do it.”
Farris returned with the paperwork all neatly filed in folders. “Mama took care of things proper.”
He and Wil exchanged folders for a check.
“Thank you for doin’ business with me. I think you’ll be right happy with them, and I feel like Mama is smiling down from heaven.”
“I’m sure she is,” Pearl said. “Let’s go on home, darlin’. I can’t wait to tell Lucy and Jasmine about the tractors.”
“Them your daughters?” Farris asked.
“No, just my good friends,” Pearl said.
“Well, you kids have a good day and I’ll see y’all on Saturday.” Farris put the check in his bibbed pocket and sauntered back toward the house.