CHAPTER FIVE
-:- DALLAS -:-
Leaving the wine shop, I’m surprised that Cork has been ordered to remain at the clubhouse for a few days. I thought he was recovering well, or so it seemed. Ava informed me where he was during our conversation.
“Oh, Dallas. He was a nightmare, bless him. He came into the shop and started rearranging displays that we’d tweaked for better customer focus.
We moved a couple of table displays to give more room for the customers browsing, and he repositioned them to their old spot.
” At this point, she rolled her eyes. “A couple of customers came in, and he zeroed in on them like a used car salesman!
One was a regular who comes in, has a wander around browsing and then leaves with the same four bottles of Chardonnay every week.
He left with nothing this week, he was out the door and almost sprinting down the sidewalk.
“The other guy I thought was going to punch Cork. He asked several times to be left alone, but Cork kept trying to advise him. I was just walking over to drag Cork away when the customer said something I didn’t hear, and Cork told him to leave and take his attitude with him.
I had to do something so I rang the MC, Axel said he’d send someone over straight away.
It was for his own good as well as the business.
” Ava doesn’t look thrilled about the situation, and I feel sorry for her. That’s not a good position to be in.
I’m going to the Raging Barons clubhouse and see if I can do anything to perk him up. I have some sandwiches that I made to have lunch here with him. Most men like food, so it seemed like a safe option to spend some time with him.
Arriving at the compound I’m buzzed in, and I park my old truck near the front of the clubhouse.
She’s an old Ford that I saved up for and bought from an old rancher who had her from new.
He was getting to the point that he couldn’t drive anymore, and his kids all had new vehicles.
None of them could see what he and I could see in the old beauty, so he did me a grand deal as long as I promised to keep her running and used regularly.
What paint is left on her is blue and white, and I can’t ever see myself painting her to look new.
Reaching for the sandwiches from the passenger seat, I almost pee my panties when I turn back to my driver's door and there are several faces almost stuck to the window. The door is wrenched open, and I’m drug out of my truck.
Four elderly women are babbling away as they drag me around the side of the clubhouse.
As we turn the corner a younger woman bowls into us, and she looks frazzled to say the least. Her hair is all disheveled, and she looks at her wit’s end.
“Stop! Stop right where you are! Stop what you’re doing! Just stop!” She slams her hands on her hips and juts her chin out. Before she can say or do anymore, three more old ladies appear behind her, all tutting and muttering.
“Now, now, Nyx. You’ll do yourself harm getting all worked up so much. Let’s all get back to the kitchen, and we’ll have a nice cup of tea. Maybe a coffee? Decaffeinated for you though, eh dear?” One with a walking cane says, then gives me an outrageous wink.
“I’ve just come to sit and have a sandwich…”
Before I get to finish my sentence, the one hanging from my right arm says, “Yes, we know, dear. We’ve got a better idea, though. Just come with us and we’ll put you right.”
Put me right? Right about what? I don’t know them, and I’m darn sure they know nothing about me.
Bundled into a seat at the kitchen table, any hope of escape is immediately foiled when two women sit on either side of me.
I’m introduced to Carol, Sandy, Tina, Joan, Amelia with the cane, Bitty and Sybil, all sitting with the poor woman who looks ready to commit Harakiri, who all smile and begin talking at once.
I don’t know who to look at or listen to, though they all seem to be saying the same thing just at different speeds, volumes, and I’m not sure if they are all speaking the same language!
A loud grunt sounds from somewhere, and all the women go silent and turn to the stove.
I’m fairly certain that the man mountain standing there, with an apron on, is furry guy from Sunday's training. He points to a saucepan that is bubbling gently, grunts once more and then removes his apron. He looks me squarely in the eye, nods and then leaves. The cacophony starts again as soon as he exits the kitchen. Looking at the poor woman at the other table, she mouths, ‘Sorry’ at me and then puts her head in her hands. I guess I’m not getting any help from there!
Turning to the nearest woman on my right, who I notice also has a cane I say, “Am I right that your name is Tina?”
“Yes, Dallas. I’m Tina. Pleased to meet you, deary.”
“You know me, Tina? How do you know me?” I’m flabbergasted.
“Oh, yes. We all know about you, Dallas. Don’t worry though. It’s all our little secret.”
“Erm, what exactly is our little secret?” This is getting weirder by the moment, and not a little scary.
“You having the hots for Cork, of course. We want to help and a couple of sandwiches aren’t going to cut the mustard, so we’ve got a freshly made beef broth for you to present instead.” Tina is so honest and genuine, I don’t know what to say.
Bitty walks over and starts giving orders to the women.
“Carol, wipe tables. Sandy, polish the spoons and any other cutlery. Tina, put any finishing touches to Dallas. Joan, keep everyone out of the kitchen. Amelia and Sybil, get Nyx into the nursery and then we can all apologize for messing with her while we got Meat to make the broth.”
It’s like a well-oiled machine when they all move, and the only thing I’m not sure of is ‘my finishing touches’ and what they’ve done to the woman, Nyx!
Tina steps up with a makeup bag and starts dotting things on my face. She only takes a couple of minutes, then smiles happily and hands me a mirror. I know she’s only used a very small amount of makeup, but even I’m impressed.
I’m manhandled to the stove and shown how to stir the soup! Honestly? How to stir soup? You couldn’t write this stuff!
Suddenly the room is empty except for Tina who gives me a thumbs up and quickly disappears. Moments later, Cork appears. I have to admit I’ve seen him with a better look on his face. At least I get a smile as he walks in, I think to myself.
“I was told you were looking for me. Had a nice surprise for me, too.”
“Yes. It’s my day off and I thought I’d help with your recovery. I brought soup to help build you back up to full strength.”
“Why does everyone think I need building up or resting up or some other up? I took a hit on the head, that’s all. I’m not an invalid.” Cork looks disgruntled.
Well, that got us off to a merry start. “No one doubts that you’re on the mend but that was a hefty blow you took.
These things can have a long-term effect on some people.
I’ve seen some tough cowboys off their horse for months after taking a kick to the head.
Everyone cares about you, Cork, don’t be so defensive when they voice it. ”
Turning to the table I see him checking his teeth in the shiny spoon. Am I really so unattractive that he can’t even listen to me? I’m just about to say the soup's ready when Tina pops her head inside the door.
“Don’t forget your bread, Dallas. Middle oven, remember?” Then she scoots off. Bread? They forgot to tell me I had made bread, too? Who am I? Julia Child?
“You cook and bake, huh? I’m okay in the kitchen, but I’ve never gotten around to baking. Maybe if you get knocked out, I’ll cook you a get-well meal.” Cork grins.
Oh, that’s just horseshit, is what that is. Do I need to get injured for him to ask me for a meal?
Taking the saucepan to the table, I literally slop the soup into the bowls. How I don’t get it everywhere I don’t know, and I don’t care. If I’d just given him the damn sandwich, I could have been on my way out of this mess by now.
“You forgot the bread. Tina did remind you.” He sits there looking like butter wouldn’t melt, and it’s all I can do not to stick him with the bread knife that Sandy must have remembered to put out.
Taking the bread out of the oven, I ask him to slice it, and he does four huge chunks that use more than half the loaf. The conversation picks up as we eat, and I get to enjoy the meal with him. I feel more than a little guilty when he compliments me on my cooking skills.
“I made you a sandwich for later if you get hungry between meals.” Opening the fridge, I hand him the sandwiches I’d originally planned for us to have together.
He takes a peek inside the bag, stating, “They look better than the soup. I’d rather have had these, though the soup was delicious.”
I’m done. That’s me done. I need to get out of here. I’m just going to kiss him quickly before I leave when he hits me with a sucker punch.
“You’re a good friend, Dallas. A guy is lucky to have a friend like you, you know that?”
“Well, I know it now, Cork. Thanks for that. I need to go. I have things to do.” Turning to leave, he has one last stab to the heart.
“I’ll load the dishwasher then, shall I? The least I can do.”
Not daring to speak, I leave the kitchen through the door I came in. As I take a deep breath, I see the women standing against the wall, looking at me through huge sheepish eyes.
“Not a word. Not a freakin’ word.” Marching to my truck, it’s only pure, unadulterated embarrassment that keeps me from bursting into tears.
The next few days are robotic. Work, eat, sleep, repeat, I don’t have a good word for anyone.
Just hello, yes, no, goodbye. My one concession to normalcy is Raven.
She made an appointment at the range with Winter for me.
When I got there, we had a session with a Winchester repeater since I own one.
After that I began teaching her to use a lasso.
Cora and Raven had met me there, which I wasn’t expecting, and it broke my mood, if only for a couple of hours.
At work, Pryce tried to keep things normal, but even he had had enough.
We'd been on patrol for three hours that evening, and Pryce had been driving. This was a sure sign that he needed something to occupy his mind. We were cruising through a warehouse district and suddenly he slammed on the brakes and left us sitting in the middle of the road.
“For crying out loud, Dallas. Enough is enough. Either get over him, or throw yourself on a sword in front of him, but stop making everyone else's life a goddamn misery,” Pryce snaps, and his voice is sharp.
“My misery has nothing to do with anyone else,” I snap back at him and immediately know I’m being unfair. I hate it when he’s right. He’s like a damn annoying sibling that always has something to say. Chipping away at your nerves until he gets to the last one, and it pushes you over the edge.
“You’re not yourself, and you know it. It’s clear to everyone what’s wrong, and out of respect for you, no one has gone to Cork and spilled the beans.
That will only last so long if you keep treating people the way you are.
It is only because it’s not like you, that you’re getting away with it.
Take the bull by the horns and tell him how you feel. ”
“That’s easy for you to say! Mr. Relationship Expert!” As soon as the words are out, I regret them.
“You fuckin’ drive as I’m gonna walk for a bit. I need some fresh air.” Pryce steps from the vehicle, and I have to grab the handbrake when the SUV starts to roll.