The sun was shining, the humidity
was low and the thermometer was barely over the eighty degree mark –
all in all, it was a great day for a convertible, an unusual
occurrence for Texas in late June.
Marci and Sissy had Willie and
Waylon crooning about love at the truck stop and a two pound bag of
M&Ms was within reach – what more could a couple of grandmothers
need for a road trip. Oh yeah, a map might be nice, particularly
since they were irretrievably lost, on a gravel road, in the middle
of nowhere.
“I can’t believe you didn’t pack a
map. Every car has a map. It’s some kind of unwritten rule,” Marci
exclaimed. She was beyond exasperated and desperately trying to
keep from smacking her sister. They’d been driving around for what
seemed like hours, and so far they hadn’t seen any sign of
civilization. It was cows, cows and more cows. And every time
Sissy gave her directions, they found themselves deeper in the
labyrinth of farm-to-market roads that crisscrossed Texas. To make
matters worse, the low fuel light came on several miles back.
“Don’t get snotty with me. You’re
the one who got us lost in the first place.” Sissy pushed her
sunglasses up her nose and put on her pouty face.
Good Lord, that woman could be
stubborn. Marci took one deep breath and then another. Deep
breathing was good. She wasn’t about to point out the only reason
she was driving was that Sissy thought I-37 was the Indianapolis
Speedway and the cute highway patrolman had expressed some serious
doubts about her driving ability.
Focus. Focus. Focus. They were
obviously somewhere between Beeville and Seguin – and God only knew
their exact location. And since Marci was directionally impaired,
and couldn’t read a map even if they had one, they were in a
boatload of trouble.
She could just see it now. Lolly
would have them on the lost and presumed abducted segment of
America’s Most Wanted before their bodies were cold.
When in doubt, grab an M&M. “Okay,
let’s look at this logically. If we turn around and follow the road
back the way we came we’ll eventually find some pavement. And
pavement will mean a sign and a sign will lead to civilization.
That is if we have enough gas.”
“And hopefully a Dairy Queen
because I’m starving,” Sissy muttered.
Marci threw the bag of candy into
Sissy’s lap. She was as bad as a kid.
“Look at that.” Sissy squealed and
pointed down the road.
“What exactly am I looking for?”
Marci squinted in the direction her sister was indicating.
“See that horse, well, there’s a
man standing right next to it. I’m sure he can tell us how to get
back to town.”
Considering the fact they were out
in the middle of frickin’ nowhere, that might be a leap of faith -
but hey, they were out of options. And yes, in the far, far
distance Marci could barely make out the silhouette of a man.
“Let’s hope we haven’t found the
local rapist,” Marci commented as she put the T-Bird in gear. “I
suppose you forgot the pepper spray, too.”
Sissy answered by sticking out her
tongue.
Johnny had just finished patching a
section of barbed wire fence when a red T-Bird convertible wheeled
to a stop. He lived in the boondocks for a reason – privacy. If
they were paparazzi they were about to get a piece of his mind.
But then he took a good look and
liked what he saw. The two women weren’t youngsters, but neither
was he. The young groupies who flocked to his concerts hadn’t jump
started his libido since he was twenty-five, and that was several
decades back.
The redhead was a bit much, but the
platinum blonde was a classy looking lady. He was about to jump the
fence and see what they needed when he noticed they were in the
middle of an argument. Every time the redhead started to talk, the
blonde shook her head. Finally the blonde jumped out of the car and
slammed the door so hard the vehicle rocked.
That one had a temper.
As she stomped closer, he could see
that she was beautiful – tall and willowy, with shoulder length
platinum blonde hair bordering on silver, and the prettiest blue
eyes he’d ever seen. And if her expression was any indication she
was in a royal snit.
“Howdy ma’am. Can I help you with
something?” He tipped his Stetson further down over his eyes. The
last thing he wanted to deal with today was an ardent
country/western fan.
She huffed out a big breath.
“We’re lost and it’s my sister’s fault,” she muttered something and
stuck out her hand, “I’m Marci Hamilton and that’s my sister,
Sissy.” She pointed at the redhead.
Johnny had been riding fence all
day so he was dirty and sweaty, but he didn’t want to embarrass her
by refusing to shake hands. So he ruthlessly wiped his hand on his
jeans before extending it.
At the last minute he decided to go
with his middle name. “I’m Johnny Walker.”
“Johnny Walker?”
He could tell she was on the verge
of giggling, and for some unknown reason that fascinated him.
“Yeah, my daddy had a good sense of
humor,” Johnny said.
“Well Johnny Walker, could you tell
us how to get back to town. Any town will do, but we’d prefer one
with a Dairy Queen.”
“Yes ma’am, I can sure do that. In
fact I can do you one better. If you ladies will stay here I’ll
ride back and get my pickup. Then you can follow me into Live
Oak.” He could tell she wasn’t quite sure about his invitation,
so he resisted the grin he felt coming on. Something about this
woman was enticing, and he hadn’t been tempted by a woman in a very
long time.
And the best thing of all was she didn’t recognize him.
Hot damn! Maybe it was his lucky day
