“We might argue and even come to blows someday, but I’ll stake my oil company on the fact that not a one of us had anything to do with Conrad’s death,” she said.
“That’s pretty positive. How can you believe in those other two that strongly?”
“Jamie might have been thinking about divorcing the son of a bitch, but she would never kill Gracie’s father. Amanda, bless her heart, will bitch and moan, but she wouldn’t have the nerve to pull the trigger, and besides she was still living in that first year of bliss,” Kate answered.
“And you?” Waylon stopped the truck at the edge of a field.
“I didn’t give a damn. To kill someone, you have to care. I would like to have my maiden name back and have it cleared from all doubt. Other than that, I was over Conrad a decade ago. Are those guys going to work with me?” She pointed to four teenage boys waiting under a shade tree.
“That’s your crew. What you do is drive this truck at about five miles an hour. Two will be on the ground throwing bales up to the catcher, who will toss them back to the stacker. When the truck is full, you’ll go back to the barn, where they will unload it and then start all over again,” Waylon said.
“Where is this barn?” she asked.
“The guys will give you directions. There’s a bathroom in the tack room if you need it. You’ll have a few minutes while they unload and stack in the barn.”
“I think I can remember all that,” she said as she slid across the bench seat. “Now give me the wheel. Does the radio work?”
“Like a charm. It’ll probably still be working when this thing finally bites the dust, but the air-conditioning went out years ago.” Waylon opened the door and hopped to the ground. “And thanks, Kate. This is a big help. It frees up a man to throw or stack.”
“Hey, I’m doing this for money, not thanks.”
He chuckled as he slammed the door shut. “And what are you going to do with your huge paycheck?”
“Buy tickets to Six Flags if Gracie doesn’t win them at the festival,” she said. “If I work all week, she and I might even send out for pizza from down at the convenience store one night. And if Jamie and Amanda are still bitchy with each other, we won’t share with them.”
“Beautiful, smart, and funny.” He shook his head as he walked away.
Waylon would never know what those three words did for her ego that day. She smiled as she shifted into low gear, let out on the clutch, and eased forward with a single lurch. A young cowboy hopped up on the back and two others started throwing bales up to him as she inched the truck along.
She turned the knob on the radio, and a country music station came in loud and clear. Maybe those cowboys liked her kind of music; maybe they liked rock or rap. But she was the driver, and as such she had control of the dial.
“Hot enough for you folks?” the DJ asked when the first song ended. “Well, turn up the air conditioner and enjoy the Monday madness. We’ll play ten of the most popular songs from last year in a row. At the end of the ten songs, the thirteenth caller who can tell me what month these were on the list will win two tickets to Six Flags Over Texas. First one is Carrie Underwood’s ‘Heartbeat.’”
“Was it February or March?” Kate asked as she kept her foot steady on the gas pedal. She’d listened to country music every day on the way to work at the oil company, on the way home, while she took her shower, and sometimes while she did extra work at night so she wouldn’t be behind the next morning.
When they made trips to the barn to unload the hay, she got out and helped stack the bales, but she kept the engine running so they could hear the music. By the time Waylon sent a text calling it a day, she’d put away four of the Cokes and six waters and was still thirsty. Never before in her life, not even at the gym, had she sweated so much or felt so grimy. Lord, she’d have to have her Caddy detailed and fumigated by the weekend if she rode home in it every day smelling like hay, sweat, and dirt.
She drove the loaded truck to the barn and parked it, bailed out, and headed for the bathroom. Using brown paper towels from a dispenser, she cleaned up as best she could with cold water. By the time she returned, Waylon was helping the guys unload the last of the hay.
“Good job. The guys say that you can drive for them anytime and that they like your music,” Waylon said. “Would you like to stay for supper? I’ve got a couple of steaks laid out to throw on the grill.”
“I’m filthy dirty,” she said.
“So am I.” He smiled.
Her stomach growled—a steak did sound really good. “So you can cook?”
“You bet I can. It’s not far to the house, so we’ll walk. Do you cook?”
“I can make soup from a can and a mean ham and cheese sandwich,” she answered.
“You any good at putting together a salad?”
“I can manage in a pinch.” Her long legs matched his stride with no problem.
He opened the gate for her and stood to one side. The yard sported a big pecan tree on each end and a nice wide screened-in porch.
“Kick off them shoes. We don’t stand much on ceremony. We’re pretty laid-back out here in the hinterlands.” Waylon sat down on the back porch steps, yanked off his boots, and padded barefoot over to a garden hose curled up in the yard. He turned on the water and sprayed the dust from his feet and then leaned over and wet down his dark hair. “Damn, that feels good. Come join me.”
When in Rome, Kate thought as she removed her sandals and set them on the porch. The polish on her toenails was badly chipped, and her feet looked like she’d walked a mile in a sandstorm. Thank goodness she’d washed her face in the barn bathroom or it would probably look the same. But then she was on a ranch, not going to a fund-raiser.
If everyone jumped off the cliff, would you follow them? I told you to get a mani-pedi two weeks ago. I can’t believe you are wearing sandals when your toenails look like that. Her mother’s voice in her head faded quickly when Waylon squirted her feet and all the way to her knees with cool water.
She could practically feel the cold stare of disgust if Conrad had seen her washing up with a garden hose. He’d expected her to maintain the image that he wanted. She banished him from her thoughts and concentrated on getting as clean as possible.
“Hey, did you find anything out about that girl you asked us about. Stella?”
“Estrella,” Waylon said. “We checked on her after I called and leaned on the florist again. Conrad sent flowers to her address once, but they were for her sister. Both the sister and Estrella had a rock-solid alibi, so that didn’t pan out and that’s more than I should be saying. Want your hair done?” He changed the subject.
“I’ll pass on that, but my hands and arms won’t.” She held them out.
He squirted the water up to her elbows and then turned off the hose. “There are paper towels on the porch.” He motioned for Kate to follow him. “Want a cold beer while we get supper going?”