Chapter One #4
“What . . . How . . . Where . . . ,” she stammered.
“I’m sorry for ghosting you,” Tina said.
The years had been kind to her friend, but the sadness that filled her big blue eyes testified that she hadn’t had an easy life.
Gracie’s heart went out to her, but her mind screamed at her to be careful.
Tina hadn’t answered a single email, and the snail mail Gracie had sent had been returned. Why should she be nice to her today?
“I want to double up my fist and hit you,” Gracie said.
“Go get a ladder and I’ll let you,” Tina fired back.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” Gracie scoffed.
“Neither have you,” Tina snapped.
“No fighting, children,” Cleo scolded. “Tina is home, and we are going to welcome her.”
Gracie crossed the floor and wrapped her arms around Tina. “Why did you stay away so long? I’m glad to see you, but I’m still mad, and you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“We’ll talk about that later,” Tina answered. “I only planned to see the Tomorrow Tree, but Cleo spotted me over there and Mae invited me to stay awhile. I’m kind of like a lost sheep: I don’t know where I belong or how to get there.”
“Well, this is a good place to figure all that out,” Gracie assured her, but Tina O’Grady had a lot of proving to do before she would fully trust her again.
Walker heard the bell above the feedstore door jingle and looked up from the computer. “Hello, Mr. Richman. What are you doing out in this weather?”
“I’ve told you for years to call me Herman. Mr. Richman was my granddaddy. My grandson forgot to stop by here on his way home from school and pick up chicken feed. So here I am,” he growled.
“Yes, sir,” Walker said. “Let’s get you a ticket, and then I’ll get you loaded up.”
“Lyle was so excited for school to be out for the year that his granny’s request went clean out of his head,” Herman said.
“But that’s probably a good thing, since it was raining cats and dogs and baby elephants.
If he had gotten it loaded in his truck, it would have been soaked by the time he got home, and Edna would have been furious. ”
“Yep.” Walker grinned and kept walking. Herman was one of his favorite customers and usually had a phrase or two that put a smile on his face.
“I’ve got the cover over the bed of my truck now,” Herman said. “Write me up for two bags of that high-dollar stuff she gives the baby chicks so they’ll grow off fast. And three bags of the regular stuff for the layin’ hens.”
Walker managed to get a few words out while Herman caught his breath. “Lyle can back right up inside the storage room, and we can load it there.”
“I already told him to do that. I swear, we spend more money on those feathered critters than it would cost us to buy eggs,” he complained.
“Don’t mind me, Walker. I’m cranky today.
Guess it’s cabin fever. I ain’t been able to get out as much as I like since I had the hip replaced a couple of months ago, and the television and Edna are the only ones I get to talk to.
Sometimes I sneak out to the porch and visit with my old redbone hound dog a few minutes before Edna finds I’m gone. ”
“I hear you,” Walker said. “I’d planned to drive up to the canyon this weekend and do some hiking, but this bum knee whines if I even mention such a thing, especially in weather like this.” He whipped the bill around for Herman to sign and gave him the carbon copy.
“I’m right sorry about your knee,” Herman said.
“I always tell Lyle you could have played pro basketball. But I got to admit, I’m glad you came back home.
I was afraid you’d sell out when Bull died.
If you hadn’t kept the store going, we would have had to go all the way to Vega every time we needed something. ”
Walker held the door open for Herman and then went to the stack of chicken feed.
He hoisted a fifty-pound bag onto his shoulder, feeling that knee groan, and carried it across the floor.
He hit the red button on the wall beside the wide doors.
Lyle slowly backed the truck inside the store, and Herman folded the bed cover back while his grandson jumped out and hurried over to help get the rest of the feed loaded.
“Think the Eagles will bring home the state basketball trophy again this next year?” Walker asked.
“Hoping so. Coach says that we’ve got a good chance if none of our team members leave the area,” Lyle answered.
At six feet eight inches, Lyle was the star player and the only person in town who was taller than Walker.
Even though he was the golden-haired boy of Benson, his grandparents made sure he wasn’t cocky about that or anything else.
Last fall, when Walker’s house had burned to the ground, leaving nothing behind but ashes and memories, Lyle was the first one there to offer his help to clean up the mess.
Walker was still two ways about the fire.
In one respect, he was glad to have gotten rid of decades of stuff that his grandfather wouldn’t toss out over the years.
In another, he was sad about having lost the home he’d lived in since he was a toddler.
That Cleo and Mae had taken him in, given him a place to live, and Gracie lived right across the hall from him lessened the pain more than any of them would ever know.
“Grandpa, I’ll get this done if you’ll get back in the truck and drive us home. I hate to drive in the pouring-down rain,” Lyle said.
“I ain’t arguing with that idea.” Herman limped out to the truck and got into the driver’s seat.
“I’m glad you’re still open,” Lyle said, “or I’d been in big trouble for forgetting to pick up the feed for Gramps.”
“I was about to lock the door when your grandpa came in,” Walker said. “I’ll be open until noon tomorrow if y’all need anything else.”
Lyle tossed the last bag over into the truck bed. “Thanks, but this ought to do us for a while.”
Walker went to the front of the store, where he turned out most of the lights and locked the door.
With the driving wind blowing the cold rain right at him, his big black umbrella did little to keep him dry as he jogged across the parking lot to his truck.
He shivered, started the engine, and sat there for a few minutes until the cab warmed up a little.
“One minute, it is sweltering hot. The next, I need some heat. Welcome to the Texas Panhandle,” he muttered as he drove slowly through town.
Had I not messed up my knee, I might have had a whole different life right now, he thought as he passed the empty lot where he’d lived until his grandfather passed away two years ago.
“Bull would have been so sad to see fire take our home,” he said.
Bull had been a hard man, both to live with and work with, but Walker was quick to acknowledge that he had inherited some of the old man’s genes right along with the feedstore.
He missed having his own home, but living at the boardinghouse hadn’t been so bad.
Since Cleo and Mae wouldn’t let him or Gracie pay them anything for room and board, they did what they could to help out with whatever needed to be done in the way of maintenance and yard work.
All this rain meant he would be mowing all three acres as soon as the ground was dry again.
He was thinking about arranging his schedule to get that done as he drove down Main Street toward the east end of town.
He parked behind Gracie’s vehicle and made it inside with only a few water spots on his jeans.
“I’m home. Is that beans I smell?” He noticed two pairs of shoes sitting on the edge of the rug, not just Gracie’s usual ones.
This was not the last Saturday night of the month, when Cleo and Mae had their quilting bee friends over for the evening.
It had to be a big someone, because those sandals looked to be about a size 10, and no one in their little group of quilting buddies had large feet.
He chuckled at that thought of their quilting night.
Although the ladies produced a quilt every year, they gossiped more than they stitched and put away a lot of moonshine and always ate a whole pan full of Cleo’s “special” brownies.
If anyone was too wobbly to drive home, then Walker would handle it and bring them back for their vehicles the next day.
Cleo came out of the kitchen and smiled. “Walker! I didn’t hear you come in. Supper will be ready in thirty minutes, but there’s cookies for your after-school snack. Take off your shoes. If they ain’t muddy, they’re wet, and I won’t have nasty marks on my floor.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Walker said. “I’ll wait and have cookies for dessert.”
“You’ll have two sweets, then, because Mae made a peach cobbler,” Cleo told him.
He slipped his feet out of his work boots and set them aside. “What’s happening? You only make cobblers for special occasions.”
“It’s a good day when all the kids come home, and it’s not even Christmas or a holiday,” Mae answered as she entered the room.
“Hello, Walker Cosay.”
Before he could even process Mae’s line, Tina peeked around the doorjamb.
His breath caught in his chest, and he thought for sure he was seeing an apparition. “Tina O’Grady?”
“That’s me,” she answered. “I’m the new boarder.”
“Where have you been? You just fell off the face of the earth.” He thought about pinching himself to be sure he was awake.
“That’s a long story for another day,” she answered. “I moved around a lot these past years and lost track of time.”
“We had a blood pact to keep in touch when we all left, and even if you did move, you had this address and phone number, so you could have let us know you were alive,” Walker scolded, and thought to himself, The hell you did!
“I guess my Irish blood was no match for Gracie’s Mexican and the Navajo that flows through your veins.
The last time we talked, you two seemed to have it all together.
She was going to be a teacher. You were going to be a basketball star.
I didn’t end up to be any of that, and I was ashamed,” she admitted.
Tina had always said the Irish in her made her crave new adventures.
For a while she’d had her family’s money to save her, until she even screwed that up.
“That didn’t mean you couldn’t send a card once in a while so we would know you hadn’t died,” he grumbled.
“Don’t just stand there, Walker,” Cleo said. “Come on in the kitchen with the rest of the family. You can have a glass of tea and visit while me and Mae finish up supper.”
“Besides, we both want to hear everything y’all talk about.” Mae motioned for them to follow her. “The way things are going right now, you and Tina might need a referee. Gracie will be down in a minute. She went up to her room to get dressed.”
“I cannot believe that you are here,” Walker whispered as he followed Tina into the kitchen. “Why did you come back?”
“I’ve really got nowhere to go, and all the time in the whole world to get there.
I can go to my folks’ house in California but .
. .” She shrugged. “They’re not too happy with that idea, and truthfully, neither am I.
You got any idea who might need help in town? Is Ray’s Burger Shop still operating?”
“Yes, but the pandemic hurt us all, so he and his wife are running it by themselves.” Walker eyed her carefully. She’d ghosted them hard. Who said she’d stay this time? Still, he could use some help in the feedstore—if she was willing to work for minimum wage.
Tina went straight to the cabinet, got down five plates, and began to set the table for supper. “That evil virus hit my job market hard, too. I wound up working at whatever I could find, from cleaning hotel rooms to waitress work.”
“I could use some help at the feedstore,” he blurted out. “When the ladies come in and try on jeans or clothing, I don’t know how to answer when they ask me how they look.”
Tina finished her job and sat down. “I could do that if you are looking for help, but I did finish college with a degree in business. I’m a dang-good bookkeeper.”
“I’d gladly turn that part over to you, too. If you want the job, you can start Monday,” he said, but promised himself that it would be on a week-to-week basis. He hoped that she would stick around, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she was gone by morning.
“I’ll take it,” she said with a nod.
Now what? Walker wondered.
He’d wanted to date Tina O’Grady from the time they were in junior high school, but there was no way that her father, the big shot CEO of Wild Country Oil Company, was going to let a half-Navajo boy date his Irish American daughter.
Maybe the universe was smiling on him and saying he had a second chance. He could almost see the look on her father’s face and hear the cussing fit he would pitch if he knew his daughter was the Navajo boy’s lowly employee.