15. Cale
15
CALE
L ife in this place starts early. Like pre-sunrise level of early.
My line of work is better suited to the darkness and the shadows. I’ve adapted accordingly. But around here the lights are all out by ten p.m. and there’s no pulse of city chaos to break the silence. No city lights either. Just silence and the stars.
This is different. Not bad, just different.
And there’s no end date on how long I’ll be here. I was lucky that there was no organ damage and I didn’t need surgery. The doctor tried to persuade me to stay in the hospital for a few days but I wasn’t interested. Maybe I would have changed my mind on that hospital stay if I’d known my uncle would order me to remain at Sadie’s ranch until further notice.
“Just lay low in the country and enjoy the domestic life until I say otherwise,” he said. “Think of it as a second honeymoon.”
Then he laughed, thinking he’s doing me a favor.
And I had to return the laughter because what else could I say?
That gas station shootout really turned everything sideways. Not that I’m sad about depriving the world of two trashy villains. The next day I found a short news clip about the bloody crime scene left behind in Arizona. Dean and Royal Cuffy were two cousins best known in the local area for threatening kids and mugging old ladies.
Fuck them and good riddance.
But I do wish I’d arrived there in time to save the clerk. He had a wife and a little boy and hoped to become an electrician. Richie made good on his promises to use his connections. The story was reinvented and the murdered clerk got the credit for eliminating the Cuffy cousins before dying of his wounds. It must have taken a lot of doing to get all involved parties to ignore the evidence and go along with Richie’s version but that’s someone else’s problem. The best I could do is arrange to donate a tidy sum to the clerk’s grieving widow so that’s exactly what I did.
Now, three days after I completely vandalized the tranquility of Bright Hearts Ranch by arriving with no invitation and a bullet hole to fix, there’s a green-haired cartoon witch grinning at me from the opposite wall of the guestroom. A flock of bats hang from the ceiling. The curtains are covered with pumpkins. The same pattern decorates the bed sheets and comforter. The throw pillows are in the shape of ghosts. There’s a black cat clock ticking the minutes three feet from my head. Honestly, it looks as if Halloween puked in here.
What makes this weird is that it’s the month of April.
The cat clock purrs on the wall, informing me it’s seven a.m. The smell of cinnamon hangs in the air. There’s enough light filtering through the curtains to show that the sun is shining. And dogs are barking, lot of dogs. Mingled in with the barking is Sadie’s voice.
“There you go, Thistle! Good girl. Here, catch the ball, Barney. You got it!”
Flicking the pumpkin curtain aside, I open the blinds and get punched in the eyeballs by bright light. It takes a few hard blinks for the spots to clear.
The long building nearest the house is a large dog kennel. Beyond that sits a barn. There are a couple of smaller structures but I forget their purpose. Sadie tried to drag me around on a tour, talking so fast she was almost tripping over her words. From the way she kept pausing to check my reaction, I could swear she was searching for my approval.
I see her now, a red-haired streak in blue jeans running with a large brown and white mutt. She reaches the edge of the fenced play yard and laughs when the dog’s big front paws nearly topple her over. I’m sure she’s been awake for a while. Sadie bounces to life before the first streaks of light cross the sky.
Watching her drop to her knees without a care about dirt and grass stains and dog slobber, it occurs to me that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone better matched to their chosen line of work. But maybe work is the wrong word when it comes to Sadie. The ranch isn’t just her work. This place is her.
Sadie is sincere. Her passion and steadfast commitment are what sets her apart from other people. That and the fact that she can answer banter like nobody’s business. I’ve never met a woman who can fire back the way she does without thinking twice. I like that about her, even if I wouldn’t say so out loud. For all she knows, I’m the meanest mafioso mobster on the eastern seaboard. Yet she’ll still meet my glare and order me to shut my mouth. That little redhead has got quite a spine.
While I watch, Sadie takes her time petting every dog that climbs into her lap. The yard is full of activity. A woman who I recognize as one of the volunteers is leading a horse slowly around the corral. That teenage kid who always hangs out here is also in the mix. Jasper finishes rolling up a long hose and grabs a rake.
My eyes scan the yard quickly and then return to Sadie. A light breeze moves her hair into her face and she pushes it back with impatience. She suddenly turns in this direction and freezes when she spots me gaping at the window. I didn’t mean to startle her. I shut the blinds and turn away.
The ache in my side is better than it was yesterday and I’m starting to feel a little stir crazy. Unfortunately, there’s no way I can call Richie and say I’m returning to action. With my uncle keeping close tabs right now, he’ll wonder why I’m so eager to leave my wife’s bed and return to gangster hunting. I’ve got to stick it out at least a few more days.
No doubt Sadie will be relieved when it’s time for me to move on. After all, I’ve invaded her territory and brought a whole barrel of drama. She’d be even more eager to get rid of me if she knew that I’m storing a bag of bribery cash under the bed.
After checking to make sure that the bag remains undisturbed, I grab some clothes and cross the hallway to the bathroom. I’m not really supposed to shower yet. That showboat of a doctor hired by my uncle told me that it would be a good idea to take sponge baths until the bandage comes off. Sponge baths. Right. Fuck that.
With shower flipped to the hottest setting, I raid the bottle of antibiotics I was given, chasing the pill with a swallow of water from the faucet. At least I follow the important instructions. I’ll just keep the bandage out of the water. Since there are no soap options besides Sadie’s mango blossom shower gel I wind up smelling awfully fruity by the time I towel off. I check my bandage, which remains dry. As much as I’d like to yank the whole thing off right now, I don’t want to risk prolonging this saga more than necessary so I leave it alone and pull on some clothes.
My wardrobe selection is limited at the moment. I wasn’t expecting to visit small town Colorado and the suits I’d packed are not really ranch appropriate. I’ll have to do laundry today. This is my only pair of jeans and my last clean t-shirt. And it’s impossible to add a gun holster without being glaringly obvious. Considering the way everyone lost their minds the last time they saw my gun, I’ve had no choice but to keep it inside the cash bag.
On my way out of the bathroom I nearly fall over Peggy, the pint-sized elderly assistant caretaker of Bright Hearts. She stands right outside the door with her arms crossed and her mouth in pursed in a flat line. Beneath the loosely piled nest of white hair coiled atop her head, one bushy eyebrow rises in greeting.
“Welcome to the day,” she says, hinting that I’m a slacker for sleeping past sunrise.
“Yeah,” I reply, hoping she’ll move.
The semi-frown fades a little as she scans me more closely. “You look better than you did when you got here. But you’ll get too skinny unless you eat more. Follow me.”
Though I’d challenge anyone to point to an ounce of fat on my body, I’m also in no danger of getting too skinny. Hitting the gym five times a week tends to add a lot of muscle and I have strong incentives to keep that muscle. It’s much harder to be intimidating if your arms look like spaghetti noodles. Nonetheless, I’m not putting up an argument if someone wants to lead the way to food.
Peggy moves with the speed of a racewalker, zipping down the hallway, turning a sharp right and not looking back until she walks through a doorway and arrives in her tiny kitchen. It’s filled with bright colors. Yellow walls. An ancient green fridge. Mismatched dishtowels galore, all of them appearing handmade. There’s an orange cat sitting on the counter beside the sink. A black cat sits atop the fridge and glares with yellow eyes.
“Sit,” Peggy orders and gestures to a round table covered with a patchwork tablecloth.
I’ve barely eased into a wooden chair with numerous bald spots before she dumps a plate in front of me. There’s a slice of coffee cake, a cluster of red grapes and a trio of cheese wedges. Not bad.
“Thank you,” I say.
Peggy nods and pours water from a ceramic tea kettle. “I don’t have time to deal with any grown men who fall over because they don’t have the sense to eat.” She deposits a red mug beside the plate. “Drink this too. All of it.”
I’ve already taken a bite of the coffee cake but when I catch a whiff of the mug, I get a really weird feeling. And somehow my mother’s face dances across my mind.
“What is this?” I point to the cup.
She’s now chopping up green leaves and doesn’t look up. “Ginger tea. With some lemon balm. It’ll help you heal.”
That explains the sudden memory flash.
My mother’s day never officially started until she drank her morning cup of tea. Even after she got sick and had no appetite, she still wanted her tea. When she reached the point where she couldn’t get out of bed I’d make her tea for her. On the last morning she was alive I heated a cup of water in the microwave and added a bag of her favorite mixed herbal blend. As I walked into the room, she was lying on her side in the bed she’d shared with my father for fifteen years. I can still feel the grip of fear, still hear the way she struggled to breathe. But when I carefully placed the mug on her nightstand, she opened her eyes and gave me an angelic smile.
“Always look out for your brother. And Cale, there’s one more thing I want you to know…”
“Are you going to faint again?” Peggy asks, sounding none too pleased. “From the way you’re staring off it into space it looks like you’re thinking about it.”
I pop a cheese wedge into my mouth. “No. And I never fainted .”
“You certainly did, young man.”
“I’m also not young.”
“Just how old are you?”
“Thirty four.”
“Ach, little more than a schoolboy.” She picks up a cat and nuzzles its whiskered face.
Another cat is beneath the table, scratching at the leg of my jeans. They seem to be multiplying.
“I’m a full decade older than Sadie,” I point out.
“Hmph,” Peggy says and sets her cat on the floor. “As if that matters. You could learn plenty from that girl.”
There’s nothing to be gained by arguing with Peggy right now. Anyway, it’s possible she’s right. Not about my immaturity but about Sadie. She’s possibly the most candid person I’ve ever met. In that way, we’re opposites. Sadie lays all her cards on the table for everyone to see. Meanwhile, I don’t like to reveal that I’m holding any cards at all.
Sadie’s two giant dogs come ambling into the room with their noses quivering. They gaze with longing at the food on my plate, drool dripping from the corners of their mouths, then stare at me with beseeching eyes. Peggy whistles and opens an orange cookie jar. The dogs scramble over, claws clicking on the hardwood floor.
“You boys will need to sit if you expect treats,” Peggy says in a stern voice.
Both dogs sit immediately. Peggy drops biscuits into their big mouths with a smile. There’s the sound of hinges squeaking and the dogs, recognizing the noise made by the main house front door when it opens, forget about begging for more treats and go running.
“Oh, there’s my babies! I’m so happy to see you too.” Sadie spends a couple of minutes doing the goo goo babytalk routine with the dogs and then steps through the door to Peggy’s kitchen. She does a quick double take when finds me eating coffee cake at the table.
“Yup.” I swallow the food in my mouth. “I’m still here.”
Sadie squats down and allows two of Peggy’s cats to start climbing on her. “How’s the injury doing today?”
“Hardly feel it.”
“Good for you,” she says and turns her attention to Peggy. “I need to drive into town. I’ve got an order to pick up at the feed store and Jasper made plans with his friends this afternoon so he needs a ride home.”
“Take your time,” Peggy says. “Everything is under control.”
I stand up. The dogs begin barking so I need to wait until they’re finished before speaking. “I’ll go with you for the drive to town.”
“What for?” Sadie says, climbing to her feet.
I don’t have a good reason. I just want to look at something besides the ranch. “Maybe I’ll buy some souvenirs.”
Sadie is so easy to read. Right now she’s irritated. Her cute mouth pouts for a second and then she sighs with resignation. “All right. But you might want to grab a sweatshirt first.”
“Don’t have one.”
“You don’t have a sweatshirt?”
“No.”
“You can borrow one of mine.”
“Are you serious?” I wouldn’t be able to get one arm into one of Sadie’s shirts.
She shrugs. “It’s worth trying. My clothes all run baggy.”
“That is unfortunately true. But your clothes will never fit me. It’s a nice sunny day outside. I’ll live without a sweatshirt.”
“But the high today is only fifty degrees.” She seems genuinely distressed at the possibility I might shiver. It’s annoying.
“Well, we can stand around and argue about it all fucking day or we can go.”
“Hey!” Peggy bangs a wooden spoon on the counter. Then she waves the thing at me. “Don’t you use that filthy language in here.”
“Sorry,” I say, wondering if she’d hit me with the spoon if I’d said something else.
Peggy keeps the spoon in the air while I take my dishes to the sink. “Leave them,” she says. “No doubt you’ll wash them all wrong and I’ll need to do it all over again.”
I have no special skills when it comes to dishwashing but I think I could manage not to screw up the task. I have a feeling this line of argument won’t work with Peggy.
“Thanks for breakfast,” I say to her.
Peggy lowers her spoon and sniffs. “You just watch yourself, young man.”
“I’ll do my best.” I nod at Sadie. “Ready to go?”
She sighs. “We might as well.”