Chapter 11
Carly tossed an old magazine in front of Gemma and pointed to a picture of a movie star wearing a fancy ball gown. Her hair was swept up in a slick twist with a riot of curls on the top of her head.
“Where’d this come from?” Gemma asked.
“I got it out of the trash last year and I brought it with me. That’s what I want to look like tonight,” she said.
“Honey, I don’t sew and if I did, I couldn’t make a dress like that in five hours.” Gemma grimaced at the idea of disappointing the young girl.
“I’m not talking about the dress. I want my hair to do that, and I want to borrow some of your makeup. I’ll wear my green sundress for the dance, but I want to be pretty, and you are a hairdresser. You said so. And I bet you know how to help me with makeup too.”
Deanna held up her hands. “And fingernails. Can you do a French manicure? I always wanted one of them, but do you know how much they charge at the mall to do your nails like that?”
“Please!” Jessie begged. “We’ll help. Just tell us what to do.”
“Okay,” Gemma agreed. “The end of the craft table will be our beauty shop. First we’ll do nails, then hair, and finally makeup.”
“What do we do first?” Katy asked.
Gemma checked the time. Ten girls in five hours would be pushing the time, but it was possible. “You will all take a shower and wash your hair. Be sure to get all the dirt from under your nails and toenails. We might as well do both while we’re at it. Princesses or cowgirls, neither one would ever go to the ranch dance with nasty nails. Carly, Deanna, Katy, Angie, and Jessie, you all go to the showers first. The rest of you clear off the craft table. Move all the excess paint and decorations onto the cabinet. I’ll get out the curling iron, nail polish, and hair spray while you do that.”
She took a deep breath and looked around.
Fiona jumped off her bunk and started to work. “What do you want me to do with our craft boxes?”
“Put them on the kitchen table. We won’t be needing night snacks since we’ll be coming home late from the party. Beth, you come with me and help me carry stuff,” Gemma called over her shoulder.
She handed Beth the cosmetic case and looked seriously at the big tub. Five girls at a time could soak their feet in bath salts in that thing if the sides were flat enough for them to sit on, but they weren’t.
“What are you thinking about?” Beth asked. “You got a weird look on your face.”
“I’m trying to figure out something to use as a foot bath. Before we do toes, we need to soak your feet and lotion them up, so they’ll be all pretty,” Gemma answered.
Beth opened the cabinets under the sink and pointed. “We got one of them in our bathroom too. Carly says that it’s a puke bucket, but Jessie said it’s for mopping up the floors. We could use them both and do two at a time.”
Gemma hugged her. “You are a genius.”
Beth blushed and giggled at the same time. “Will you tell my mama that?”
“Anytime, darlin’.” Gemma grabbed the bucket and adjusted the water in her bathtub, threw a handful of bath salts into the bucket, and filled it with warm water.
“Want me to bring the other one in here?” Beth asked.
“Did you see what I just did?” Gemma asked.
Beth nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I did.”
“I want you to do the same thing,” Gemma told her.
Gemma carried the bucket to the kitchen area and met Carly coming out of the bathroom. Her head was wrapped in a towel and another one was tucked around her body. “What do I put on? My nightshirt?”
Gemma nodded. “That’s fine until it’s time for hair and then you will wear one of my snap-front shirts so that your hair doesn’t get messed up when you pull the shirt off.”
Carly looked at the bucket of water. “What is that for?”
“To soak your feet. I told you that we’re doing pedicures too. Put your feet in it while I do your nails and then we’ll work on your toes,” Gemma explained.
Carly sat down, stuck her feet into the bucket, and put both hands on the table in front of Gemma. “That water feels soft on my feet.”
“That’s the bath salts at work,” Gemma explained.
“Who gets this one?” Beth asked as she toted the second bucket into the area.
“Angie,” Gemma said. “When Carly is done, Angie will be next. Someone will take Carly’s bucket to my bathroom and dump the water in the tub. Beth will show you how to do the next one. When it’s her turn, then someone else can take over.”
Gemma was filing Carly’s broken uneven nails when Fiona led the last five out of the bathroom and they all settled into their chairs.
“While I do this, you can pick out your polish. Whatever you pick out for your nails goes on your toenails too. And I do have a few nail jewels so you can each choose whatever you like for your big toenails,” Gemma said.
“Pink, red, blue, or purple.” Carly touched each bottle. “I want blue because my green dress has big blue flowers and I want diamonds on my toenails.”
“You other girls have your decisions made before I get to you,” Gemma said. “We don’t have time for hum-hawing around.”
“What’s hum-hawing?” Jessie asked.
“That’s like not being able to make up your mind,” Angie told her.
“Well, there ain’t none of that for me. I want pink, and I want them red stars on my toes,” Jessie said.
Gemma had made a trip into town on Wednesday to pick up a few more supplies for their craft project and on the way back she’d passed a dollar store. She needed a package of emery boards and hair spray, and while she was in the cosmetic aisle, she noticed the fingernail polish. She’d bought each of her girls a small bottle of fingernail polish, a tube of flavored lip gloss, and a fingernail file. After a whole week of making the boxes, it seemed only fitting that they found a surprise when they opened them up on their way home the next day.
“Hey, girls, before I forget. When you come home from the dance tonight you are going to be too hyped up to sleep, so you have one more project to finish,” Gemma said.
“What?” Jessie asked.
“There will be stationery, a pen, and an envelope on your pillow. I want you to write a letter to your partner. Tell them anything you want but remember someone is writing about you while you are writing about them. When you get done, put your note in the envelope, seal it, and put it on the table. I’ll take care of them in the morning,” Gemma answered.
“Oh, man! I’m not good at that stuff,” Fiona whined.
“Then it will be a good lesson,” Gemma told her.
Carly was so mesmerized by her pretty nails that she couldn’t look at anything else until her toenails were done and then they took center stage. “Look, Deanna. Ain’t they pretty? And look at the sparkle on my toenail. I’m going to be a princess tonight.”
Gemma felt like she had passed a major test as a counselor when Deanna patted Carly on the shoulder. But by the time she finished the last little girl’s makeup, and glanced in the mirror at herself, she felt like she’d been put through an old wringer washing machine.
“And now it’s my turn,” She glanced at the time to find that she only had a few minutes to get herself ready. “Can you all sit right here and wait for me? And if any of you get into a catfight and mess up one of your beautiful hairdos or chip a single fingernail, I swear, I’ll make you stay in this cabin all night, and no one will see how pretty you are.”
“Yes, ma’am, Mama Gemma.” Jessie giggled.
***
“Just one more time,” Tyrelle begged Trace. “I ain’t got that last part down just right yet.”
“Okay, Damian, come on over here. You are dressed and ready, and Tyrelle needs a partner,” Trace said.
“Ah, man! I don’t like bein’ the girl. I like to lead and I’m goin’ to show Jessie how it’s done tonight. I bet them girls ain’t been practicing like we have,” Damian groaned.
“Partners help partners, and that’s your job right now,” Trace told the boy.
“Okay, but you better not wig out on me and stand over in the corner after I teach you all about this dancing stuff,” Damian said.
Trace’s boys had come a long way from that wary passel that had stumbled into his cabin that first night. Their hair was slicked back, their faces clean, and their shoes or boots shined. They’d brushed their teeth and even used some of his aftershave as cologne.
Trace pushed a button on the CD machine and a slow country song filled the cabin. The beat was good for two-stepping, and they had practiced two nights. Trace just hoped that when they got to the dining cabin that they all didn’t “wig out” as Damian said, but what was most on his mind was the fact that soon the kids would go home, and Gemma would go back to Ringgold until the next rodeo. They still hadn’t settled anything about where their relationship stood, and that scared him. He could so easily lose her to some other cowboy who lived close to the place where her roots were.
If this is love, it will withstand a few days apart. Uncle Teamer’s voice was so clear that he looked over his shoulder to see if the old guy had come to visit.
“Love?” Trace whispered and wondered if it could be love in such a short time.
“Hey, guys, remember this will be a country dance,” he reminded them.
“We could do this dance to rap, man. We are that good,” Tyrelle yelled over the music. “Okay, Damian, my bro, I got it now. And then I’m going to tip her back like they do in the movies, and she’s goin’ to know that us boys are the winners for the whole week.”
The song ended and the boys all lined up for one more inspection before they walked out the door. Trace checked each of them, straightening a collar here and dusting off a shoe there.
“Okay, boys. You’ve worked hard all week. Go make me proud tonight. Show those girls you aren’t afraid to dance, but most of all, go have a good time,” Trace said.
Who are you talking to? Teamer’s voice was back. Those boys or yourself?
***
The dining room had been transformed into a ranch house dance, complete with hay bales in the corners and oil lamps in the windows. A soft glow and country music filled the room. Across the room, a gingham checked cloth covered a long table. Two galvanized milk buckets served as punch bowls, and blue granite campfire cups waited to be filled when the kids needed a drink. Cookies in the shape of horseshoes, Stetson hats, and cowboy boots filled platters…
Gemma smiled when she led her girls into the dance. “You guys did a great job. How did you transform it to this since suppertime?”
Hill grinned. “Thank you, ma’am. We had to work fast, but this ain’t our first rodeo when it comes to fixin’ up the place for the last night’s party.”
Carly gasped. “It’s like something out of a cowboy movie.”
Deanna whispered, “It’s beautiful.”
Damian boldly crossed the room and held out his hand to Jessie. “May I have this dance, ma’am?”
She looked at Gemma, and for a fleeting moment Gemma thought she might bolt and run like a coyote on a hot summer night. But when Gemma nodded, Jessie took his hand and nodded. He led her to the middle of the dance floor and with at least a foot of space between their bodies, they two-stepped to a George Strait tune.
“Your girls are lookin’ good,” Trace said so close to her that she could feel his warm breath on her neck. She clasped her hands behind her back to keep from throwing them around his neck and pulling his lips down to hers. She had seen him dressed all kinds of ways—for a bronc ride, for a rodeo dance, and even wearing nothing at all—but that night he just flat-out took her breath away in his creased, tight-fitting jeans, boots, and pearl snapped shirt. “Yes, they are, and so are your boys. Look at them dancin’ with the girls. How’d you get them to do that? Most boys are too shy to dance.” She didn’t want to talk about the kids or the weather, or the song that was playing. She wanted to settle the argument they had had so she could dance with him—or maybe even do something more. Tomorrow she would be leaving to go home. What if she lost him to a buckle bunny while she was gone? What if what they had had was nothing more than a flash in the pan?
“Thank you, ma’am. It took as much work for me to put enough confidence in them to dance as it did for you to make all those girls look like princesses tonight,” he said.
“And I can see what you and those boys have been doing in the evenings the past two nights. How many of them had even heard of two-stepping?” She wanted to feel his arms around her in a long, slow dance and get the cold war between them settled before she left.
Trace put a hand over his heart. “Guilty as charged. I couldn’t teach them what I didn’t know, so two-steppin’ and a little swing is going to be it for the night. Damian could do some fancy footwork to rap, but it wouldn’t work with country music songs. He caught on faster than any of them.”
There comes a time when a woman has to take matters in her own hands , her grandmother’s voice whispered softly in her ears.
Gemma inhaled deeply, let it out slowly, and then looped her arm through his. Sparks danced across the floor like a drop of water in a hot skillet. “Are you going to ask me to dance, or do I have to wait for Tyrelle? Or are we still fighting?”
“He’s got his eye on Fiona, but Miz Gemma, may I have this dance? And we still have a talk to do, but I don’t think we’re fighting,” Trace said.
Travis Tritt’s song, “T.R.O.U.B.L.E.” filled the room.
“Do you think that might be an omen?” Trace asked.
“How…what?” Gemma frowned.
Trace tipped his head over toward the two women coming in the door. A tall brunette and a short blond, both dressed in jeans and boots and wearing white cowboy hats.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“Lester and Hill’s current girlfriends,” he answered.
“Why didn’t one of them do the counselor’s job this week?” she asked.
“They probably couldn’t take vacation time from their jobs. They own a western-wear shop in town,” Trace answered and swung Gemma out in a series of twirls before bringing her back to hold her against his chest.
“Is it me, the dancing, or are you out of shape?” Gemma said between bouts of catching her breath. “That took more energy than staying on a bronc for eight seconds.”
“I agree, and it’s all of the above,” Trace answered. “Want to sit out the next one? Looks like the kids are doing fine out on the floor so find a chair, and I’ll bring you a cup of punch.”
Gemma nodded and eased into the nearest chair. Had the air finally cleared enough that they could talk? She hoped so because she didn’t want to go back home with the argument still hanging in the air like dust that wouldn’t settle.
Trace put a cup of punch in her hands and sat down beside her. “Want to take a walk and discuss this big old Angus bull that’s between us? I’d say there are plenty of chaperones at this dance.”
Gemma shook her head. “Are you talking about the elephant in the room?”
“We are ranchin’ people, Gemma,” Trace said with a chuckle. “We don’t have elephants in this part of the world. We have bulls, and we need to chase the one between us away before you leave in the morning.”
She shook her head again. “We can talk after the party. I don’t want to miss a single minute of all this fun. I worked five hours on those girls this afternoon.”
Trace leaned over and kissed her on the earlobe. “Okay then, after the party. I’ll meet you on the front porch of your cabin after the kids are asleep.”
“We’ll both be tired tonight. Let’s talk after the rodeo tomorrow night when I show you who is boss one more time,” she said.
“Darlin’, I will be the rodeo king on that competition,” he told her.
“‘How the mighty are fallen,’” she quipped.
“Hemingway?” He frowned.
Lester walked up beside them and said, “David in the Bible when Jonathan and Saul were slain. I want y’all to meet Georgia. She’s from Colorado Springs and owns a western-wear store over there.”
Gemma nodded up at the tall blond wearing jeans and boots. “Pleased to meet you.”
“We’re on our way to the punch bowl. Can we bring you something?” Georgia asked.
Gemma shook her head. “I’m fine right now.”
When they’d gone, Trace picked up her hand and teased the palm with his thumb. “So, you think you are mean as David? You got a sling and a couple of rocks in your back pocket?”
“I got a strong determination to win in my back pocket,” she said.
“So do I, darlin’, only mine is in my shirt pocket right next to my heart,” he said.
She wondered if he was talking about winning the bronc competition or winning the argument they had had earlier.
“Hey!” Hill’s deep voice interrupted the moment. “I want y’all to meet Christina Smith. She teaches elementary school to fifth and sixth grade students.”
Gemma pulled her hand free and stuck it out. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Chris shook with her. “The kids seem to be having a good time. I teach this age group. It’s hard to get them on the dance floor together even when they’ve known each other for years. You really have done a lot in just one week.”
“They’ve come a long way,” Trace said. “If you’ll excuse us, Gemma promised me the next slow dance.”
He held out his hand and she let him lead her out onto the dance floor.
“What was that all about?” she asked when he pulled her close to his chest.
“Tonight, I don’t play well with others. I don’t want to share. I missed you, Gemma,” he said.
“I’ve been right here all week,” she said.
“Yes, and that was even harder than you being a hundred miles away.”
She stepped back and looked up into his eyes. “What are we going to do about us?”
“I guess that’s what we need to talk about after the ride tomorrow night.”
***
Everything was a flurry on Saturday morning. Last-minute checks to make sure everyone had all their things in the right suitcases. One more look under the bunk beds and in the bathroom for anything that might have been left behind. Breakfast was finished. Goodbyes and hugs were given to Hill, Harper, Lester, and Trace.
The bus rumbled up to the front of the cabin and Gemma panicked. She couldn’t let them go back to the big-city life. What if they got tangled up in gangs or started doing drugs? Her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it when Carly wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her one more time.
She wanted to gather all ten of them up like a mother hen with her peeps and carry them to Ringgold where they’d have a makeover every weekend and a dance at least once a month. They should live in a town so small that if they did anything that they shouldn’t, she’d know about it before they even got home from school.
Carly’s lip quivered when she handed Gemma a folded piece of paper. “We wrote a letter to our partners last night, but then we decided to write something to you. It’s all right here in the envelope.”
Gemma swallowed a baseball-sized lump and hugged the child one more time. “I’ll read them all later. I’ve got your addresses and you have mine. Write me and tell me what’s going on in your life.”
“Can we take our boxes home with us now?” Deanna asked.
“No, you can’t take your box, but each one of you can give your box to your partner. No peeking inside until you are on the airplane going home. There’s a little surprise for you and the note that your partner wrote to you inside the box. It will give you something to read on the ride,” Gemma said.
Carly handed Deanna her bright-colored box. “You made a pretty good partner. If you are ever in Dallas, come and stay with me.”
“If you promise not to snore, I might do that. And if you ever get to Chicago, you come see me,” Deanna said with tears rolling down her cheeks as she gave her pretty trinket box to Carly.
Lester poked his head in the door. “Time to go, ladies. Boys are on the bus, and you’ve got to be at the airport in just a little while.”
Gemma followed them out, helped get them settled, and waved from the porch until the bus was out of sight.
Trace stepped up behind her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Can you imagine watching your own kids leave for camp or even their first day of school?”
She buried her head in his shoulder. “I’m never having children. I couldn’t stand the pain of kindergarten.”
***
The doctor listened to the baby’s heartbeat and looked at the lady’s chart. “Why are you having this child if you don’t want it?”
“That is personal, and I really don’t even want to talk about it. I’m treating this like a disease that I will be cured of when it is removed from my body.”
“Adoption? I’ve got several people on a list who would love to give the baby a good home,” Dr. Joyce said.
“That could be a possibility. I’ll get in touch with you if it becomes necessary. Not long until the C-section, right?”
“That’s right, but there is no reason why you couldn’t have this child naturally. You might even change your mind about motherhood if you went through childbirth.”
The lady smiled. “It’s a tumor that will be removed surgically, and I have no interest in motherhood. Not now or ever. I’ll see you in two weeks.”