Chapter 5 #2
“He’d have done it for us, even if he was on track to win, if the prize money was a million dollars,” Norris says, carefully placing his hat atop his head. “He’d give it up for any of us if we were in his boots. So we did it for him.”
This is my first time going to Vaughn Ranch without Mabel. Well, it’s my second time coming out here in total, but today, I’m driving out alone. Mabel isn’t a security blanket, and I’m a big girl—I can’t use her that way.
I did appreciate her making the first introduction, but the rest is up to me.
Stepping onto the old porch, I rest my hand on the banister a moment so I can dig my camera from my bag and snap a few pics when— “Holy crap!”
A snake slithers near the doormat a foot from me. “Oh my god!”
The door swings open, clanking against the already open screen door, and Landry appears, chest heaving beneath a sweat-damp white T-shirt, streaked with dirt.
In blue jeans and cowboy boots, Cattleman on his head, his blue eyes locked on to the snake curling the broken pot on the porch just as I leap into him.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” I yelp as its tail whips around, spanking the heel of my boot. “No, no, no!” I scream, clambering into Landry’s arms, looping mine around his neck, our cheeks pressed together as I stare down at the snake still wrapped around the old potted plant.
Sadie rushes out, in overalls and bare feet, grabbing the snake by its…
Do snakes have necks? She grabs it in her tiny fist and holds it up pridefully for Landry and me to see.
“I told you, Daddy,” she giggles, “I told you Smurf was comin’ back!
” And with that, she passes us and a moment later, the back door clatters shut as she races onto the lawn. Light laughter sounds from far off.
The chaos melts away as I slide down out of Landry’s arms, his sweat sticking to my skin, the scent of hard work and aftershave too. Something low in my belly flares, heat and excitement curling in my veins at the way it felt to be in his arms.
“I’m…”
“Scared of snakes?” he offers, dry and deadpan as ever.
“Sorry,” I decide, then add, “and yes, I’m scared of snakes.” I run my hands down my jean skirt, then smooth them over my hair, righting myself as Sadie’s words boomerang in my mind. “That snake is Sadie’s pet? And its name is… Smurf?”
Landry nods. “Yep.” He nudges the door open farther with his heel, and I know that’s my cue to go inside. If I’m waiting for a warm welcome, I may be waiting forever.
The sound of his footfalls on the wood floor behind me give me goose bumps, and when I enter the living room, I jump at what I see.
Landry moves past me and scoops up the fat chicken off the ground, freeing her out onto the back lawn. “Sadie! Put Leona in the coop!” he hollers before turning around and facing me. “Scared of chickens, too?”
I pull my camera out, lowering my bag to the ground near the couch, and snap a photo of Sadie in the lawn through the screen door, the halftone effect of the screen giving the photo a cinematic effect.
“No,” I explain, turning to face him as I loop the strap on the camera around my wrist. “But I had a bad experience recently and I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.
” I don’t want this man thinking I can’t make his film because I’m scared of all things ranch life.
And so far today, for my first visit alone, I’m 0 for 2.
Landry’s blue eyes narrow. “You’re stayin’ with Mabel, aren’t ya?”
I nod.
The smirk that curves his lips is gorgeous, and my face relaxes a little just enjoying him. I really have no idea how cowboys’ wives get anything done, honestly. “You met Mr. McCharger, I'll take it.”
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “You know him?”
Landry snorts. “He ain’t a celebrity.”
“He’s a devil chicken,” I retort, glancing out the window to see Sadie and the little girl next door making a daisy chain in the lawn.
“He’s a rooster,” Landry corrects, folding his arms over his chest in a way that makes my toes curl in my boots. “You don’t know much about animals, do you?”
I lift up my Cyber-shot, smiling as I capture the little girls. “I know about making films.”
“Fair enough,” he says, pushing off the wall to poke his head outside. “Sadie, bring Big Bertha up to the house for a second.” He turns to me, nudging a chair away from the table with his boot. “Have a seat.”
I hook a thumb over my shoulder, toward the direction of his barn. “I was hoping to get some more photos today.”
He lifts his hat from his head, sitting on the kitchen table over a large stack of open envelopes and bills. “I wanna talk to you, then I’ll set you loose, and you can take photos of whatever you want.”
You, naked.
Stop it, Quinn.
“Sounds good.” I tug my fingers through my hair nervously, and smile. “Sounds good.” Crap, I just said that.
Without a word, he moves around in the kitchen, sweat still sliding down his bare arms, making his tattoos shine.
He reaches into the fridge, bringing out a pitcher of what looks like iced tea, and snatches two glasses from the open-air shelving above the sink.
We sit in unison at the table, and he pours us each a glass as Sadie rushes up to the screen, dragging her nose down like a piggie.
“What’s up, Daddy?”
He pours the tea, and these amazing little veins bulge along the tops of his forearms, so I turn to Sadie and pay more focus on her so that I don’t find myself romanticizing the man that is just my job for a few months.
“Tell Miss Quinn how to know the difference between a rooster and a chicken.”
My cheeks flame, and I’m not sure why. Sadie comes inside, keeping one little foot in the door.
She lifts a piece of hair from my hair and holds it up above me.
“Rooster” she says, then releases my hair, and adds, “chicken.” And with that, she runs off, the screen door rattling the table and floor as it slams closed.
“Roosters have head and tail feathers that stick up, and chickens don’t, in case you didn’t get that from her demonstration,” Landry says, getting comfortable in the wooden chair next to me.
“Got it.” I sip the tea and my eyes water from the sugary taste. “Whoa,” I breathe, blinking rapidly to dry my eyes. “This is sweet.”
Landry clanks his glass against mine. “Sweet tea.” Bringing the sweating glass to his lips, he takes exactly three drinks and it’s gone.
The slow bob of his Adam’s apple sliding down his sweaty throat is making me think of very unprofessional, deleted X-rated scenes type of stuff.
I avert my eyes from the porn show next to me, and find myself looking at the edge of a bill that’s peeking out from beneath his hat, which he took off and dropped on the table a moment ago.
PAST DUE! is stamped at the bottom in aggressive, red ink, and next to it, another stamp, this one also in FUCK YOU red, saying, OVER 120 DAYS.
The pile of bills are yanked away, and I look up to see Landry’s blue eyes set on me as he tosses them onto the ground, out of sight.
“Before I let you loose on this thing,” he says, his Texas drawl thick and rich, making each word lilt from his lips like molasses or honey. I bring my legs together beneath the table.
“Yeah?”
He looks out the window at his daughter, then back to me, this time his voice lower. “I know Sadie’s gotta be part of it. I know that’s the deal I made with Melvin.”
“Devin,” I correct, falling a little in love with him for not remembering my shitty ex-boyfriend’s name.
“Right, I know I said she’d be in the film. And I’m okay with that. I mean, I know I gotta be okay with that.” He strokes his hand through his hair, damp and sort of curly, and I wonder what Landry Vaughn looks like with it combed nice, or after a shower, or—
“Anyway, I watched your film, about the girls in New York, the Bronx one,” he says, and I’m completely surprised.
Looking up UBS is one thing, but watching my work is another.
It’s an investment, in my eyes. “You’re good with kids and I just ask that you remember this movie is supposed to be about me. ”
I lean against the back of the chair, which creaks, and blink at him. I can’t imagine this man has a selfish hair on his head, so I can’t quite understand the subtext I’m supposed to be getting from this. “I’m sorry?”
He drags one of his large hands down his face, through the scruff layering his jaw, and stares down at the woodgrain in the table for a moment.
Sadie and Petunia giggle, the sound drifting through the screen like a happy breeze.
His piercing eyes lift and pin me to the chair.
“Please don’t make this about Sadie not havin’ her mama, or anything like that.
I touched on this before but… I want to be clear—I don’t want that to be a part of the film. ”
I stare at him, trying to understand what he’s really asking.
Surely he knows that a documentary means a film that examines a person or event based on facts.
Excluding it would feel disingenuous and potentially cause viewers familiar with Landry Vaughn to question what else may be left out if that is, too.
“Landry, I don’t have any plans to sensationalize your loss, if that’s your fear. ”
He shakes his head, scratching at his hairline with that same large hand.
“I watched your other three films,” he says, and I sit up a little straighter, surprised.
He just said he’d watched my documentary about the girls at the boarding school in the Bronx, but somehow it still surprises and floors me to learn he watched them all.
“I know you aren’t lookin’ to make a sob story, and that’s not what I’m saying. ”
From my periphery, I see a woman with long red hair approach, her feet bare, her body covered in dirty overalls. Landry catches my gaze and follows it, and without words, gets to his feet and opens the back door.
“Can Sadie stay for lunch?” she asks Landry. He nods but motions her inside, and I get to my feet, already wearing a smile.
“Love, this is Quinn Farley. She’s the one making the documentary about me,” he says, a little shy on the last few words.
Love is gorgeous, fair skin and freckles, and hits me with a beautiful smile.
She shakes my hand, then immediately apologizes.
“I’m so sorry I have to rush off. I’d love to stay and get to you know, Quinn, but the baby is waking up from her nap and I’ve got lunch on the stove. ”
I wave her off, a weird feeling in my feet. “No worries. It was great to meet you,” I assure her, smiling as I sit back in the chair, watching as Landry guides her out then closes the screen door.
He returns to the table and cuts to the chase.
“Sadie was one and half months old when Amelia died. She doesn’t even remember her,” he admits, his voice thin and frayed, eyes set on the woodgrain of the table again before coming to mine.
“I don’t want this movie to bring up our loss too much, for her sake.
She knows her mama is in Heaven, that her mama was sick…
she knows all that. But she doesn’t know the toll it took, and she’s too young to have that in her mind, you know? ”
I find myself bobbing my head yes, despite the fact that I have never lost anyone when I was a child, nor have I experienced loss as an adult. But I see Sadie’s face in my mind, and remember Mabel’s words, and I completely, utterly, understand what he’s saying.
“You have my word.”
He gets to his feet and stares, and I realize he’s waiting for me to do the same, so I do. “Feel free to explore. If you want a guide, just holler. I’ll be in the barn if you need me.”
Ahead of me, he pushes the back door open, and waits for me to step outside. On the porch, the sun hot against my nose, I blink back up at him. “Can I ask you something?”
He steps outside and the screen bumps his ass. “Kinda figured you’ll be asking me a lot, since you’re making a movie about me.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear nervously, notebook under my arm, camera on my wrist. “Why the comeback now?” Of everything Mabel shared, the reason why Landry is returning to the circuit wasn’t one of them. “Is it because Sadie’s old enough now? You got the time to get away and train again?”
“Missed the thrill.”
It doesn’t feel like an honest answer, because his eyes skirt his boots as he replies.
Landry tips his hat and disappears into the barn, and I jot down his words in my notebook, looping a pink circle around them.
Then, I get to work.