Chapter 3 |
A blood curdling scream of pain was like an explosion to shatter a peaceful Thursday evening in Hot Kiss. The sound breached the swinging double doors of Apple Jack's and invaded the saloon. People flinched and every eye looked toward the doors. Moments later, Nester Numbcicle stumbled in, one hand gripped tightly in an armpit and both eyes filled with tears. His was a march of suffering as he made his way to the kitchen and waiting bandages.
"Is he still trying to figure out how to get the juice out of a coconut?" Pastor Joe laughed.
"Yes," Renita said with a smile.
Every Thursday night, five poker tables were set up at Apple Jack's. The one next to the kitchen, just below the espresso machine and the wide cabinet holding Renita's collection of six shooters, was reserved for the Duchess and her posse. Normondo, who always sat next to her, Pastor Joe, Kathy, Oviler and then Cheryl.
Romaine set a tall glass with a single straw in front of Renita and then laid one finger against his lips, indicating a secret. "What is it?" Renita whispered.
"Coconut Kombucha," he replied softly.
Renita turned and stared at the door to the kitchen, then back at Romaine. "Don't tell him," she whispered. "It is too much fun watching him try to outsmart a coconut."
"I know," Romaine whispered back. "This has been fermenting for two days and he didn't notice."
"Bet is to you, Renita," Oviler prompted.
"Raise," she replied and tossed chips into the pool.
"I hear that Thomas Ahearn has patented his electric stove," Cheryl said excitedly. "It won't be long and we will be able to prepare a meal in half the time it takes now."
"Technology," Oviler chuffed, the sound mixing with the rattle of chips raining into the pool. "Might make cooking faster, but it won't be fast enough. One day people will want their meals frozen so they can be thawed and eaten in just a few minutes. Will come to no good is all I'm saying."
"Call," Pastor Joe said and then laughed when his hand won. He had also won the deal and began shuffling cards and then dealing around the table. "I hear that Cheryl and Oviler are interested the Legend of Break Your Heart Pass," he said and then rolled his eyes.
Renita was staring at her cards and frowning. "They can believe it if they want to. I'll raise a dollar."
"Woah," Kathy gasped. "Stiff bet for so early in the hand. I'll fold."
"Well, tell us what you know of the legend," Oviler said, folding his hand with disgust and tossing the cards into the center of the table.
Renita shrugged. "The way I first heard it, the diamond was stolen in India around 1780 by a French deserter of the Carnatic Wars who escaped to the New World, America. The man found his way to a small port established for fur traders on the West Coast called Yerba Buena which many years later was known as South Market, or, San Francisco to you."
"But wasn't it called the Love Diamond?" Cheryl asked.
"Eventually, yes. It was given the name Love Diamond by young man who won it in a poker game and intended to give it to the girl who was his love interest. That love interest was one sided and she rejected him without ever seeing the stone. The devastated young man left San Francisco for Salt Lake City, but ended up working for the railroad at Break Heart Pass. He vowed that the diamond would never be shared with anyone until true love found it. He was killed when a binding chain on a rail car loaded with logs broke and tons of uncut lumber rolled onto him. But, the jewel was lost shortly after that and the name Break Heart Pass was changed to Break Your Heart Pass. Many have looked for the gem, no one knows where it is today. Odd too, because it's very large, about half the size of a hen's egg, some 60 carats. How do you hide that?" She chuffed. "How to you ignore that?"
"Why did he call it the Love Diamond?" Pastor Joe asked.
"Because at its center is a bluish-green tinge in the shape of a heart. It can be seen when held up to the light." Renita laughed. "Stories. Many, many stories about that legend. Even Chery's mother claims to have seen the diamond once as a little girl traveling over Break Your Heart Pass. She and a reporter from the east both swear they saw the thing resting in a glass bowl in plain sight on the bar of the Pass Depot with a pink feathered boa lying across it."
"Mama says the reporter said he was going to write the story," Cheryl said, "but she and I have been unable to find any record of it in any paper."
Oviler sighed. "Sixty carats could build a really nice house with a really nice library," he shrugged. "Could support a wife," he glanced at Cheryl who blushed. "Could build a life."
"You'll have to peddle that lathe a little faster if that's the case," Cheryl added, giving his neck a rub.
"Renita, deal the cards," Normondo said anxiously. He had won the last hand and was impatient to repeat success.
"Lathe?" Pastor Joe asked.
"Oviler is using the wood shop behind the train station to build me a porch swing. We even found some very sturdy Ponderosa Pine to use for the frame and seat."
"Would be nice to have a larger porch to set it on, and a house larger than a cottage to attach the porch to. And a yard for little ones to play in."
"Sounds promising for you two. Just remember, "A man's steps are of the Lord; How then can a man understand his own way?"" Pastor Joe quoted.
"Please Joe, not more of your divine delivery theory," Oviler said.
A coconut sailed out of the kitchen, bounced across the wooden floor and then rolled out the door. "Now go get it!" Romaine's voice shouted from the kitchen.
Nester Numbcicle limped through the saloon, one bandaged hand held against his chest, and out the door. A moment later, "What are you doing here?" he said loudly. There was a sound like a hand slapping a melon and Nester fell backward through the swinging doors and landed unconscious on the floor. There were several gasps of shock from all the poker tables and then silence. That silence became a shroud that cloaked Apple Jack's and Hot Kiss. Even the crickets outside were still and Renita's pet owl, Rango, had stopped hooting. Every eye was fixed on the double swinging doors.
"It's quiet out there?" Normondo said nervously.
"Yeah," Renita agreed. "Too quiet."
More than one pair of eyes grew much wider when the unmistakable scent of Old Spice drifted into the saloon, there was only one varmint that wore that. "Snake Eyes always did wear too much cologne," Renita said, rushing to a cabinet and lifting her favorite .41 Colt with ivory handles off its peg and spinning the cylinder to make sure it was loaded. Then she moved to put herself between the door and the table with her friends, making herself a shield. Footsteps on wooden sidewalk could be heard and Renita tensed, raising the barrel of the gun. A blue eye in a face framed with blonde hair peeked into the saloon and Renita pointed the gun at the floor.
"Send someone to get the doc for Nester," Marshall Gale said from the door. "And put that thing away Renita."
Half an hour later, poker forgotten for the night, Gale sat at the table opposite Renita. the Duchess read the look on the woman's face and knew something was coming. "Go ahead and spit it out," she said. "I can see a question waiting there and have a pretty good mind what it's about."
Gale reached across the table and snagged Renita's Long Island Ice Tea and drained nearly half. "I have known Oviler a long time," she said wistfully. "And I just don't get it. This blonde shows up one day and all of a sudden he's beside himself." She looked up at Renita, pleading with her eyes. "Why did he choose Cheryl and not me?"
"And there it is," Renita said. "Trouble is, you're asking me to explain a man and that can't be done. A wise Southern philosopher once asked God why He made woman so beautiful. God responded, "So you would fall in love with her." "But," said the philosopher, "the first thing woman wanted was knowledge. Why did you make her dumb?" "So she would fall in love with you, 'God said." Put another way, to you and I a man with an opinion can only be one thing and that is wrong. Do you see?"
"Nope."
"Ok then. I cannot tell you why he chose Cheryl and not you, but I can tell you the difference between you and Cheryl. You are a skilled Federal Marshall. And tough, you could probably kick Oviler's butt." Renita held up one finger for attention and Gale's eyes snapped right to it. "Cheryl does not want to kick Oviler's butt, she wants to cuddle. Cheryl is as strong and independent as you are, yet when you walk into a room you fill it with authority, but when Cheryl walks into a room she fills it with a smile. She has a vulnerability that called out to him, that offered something he needed and he heard it. Somewhere along the way, between learning how to shoot and wear that badge, you forgot that you are just as vulnerable as she is but have lost the ability to show it. I watched them together the other day and I saw two halves of one whole." She shrugged. "They complement and complete each other."
Renita shrugged, sat back and watched the Marshall hold back the tears that would have proven her point, knowing she would never release them.
"Thanks Renita," Gale said finally. "I am pretty sure I smelled Snake Eye's Old Spice as I walked up to the door. Keep one eye open, he's probably around." Then she drained the Ice Tea and walked out.
Renita stood quietly outside Apple Jack's for a while, watching the night. She found an odd comfort hearing Normondo's snoring coming from the Livery. Marshall Travelers was prowling the shadows between buildings, watching for Snake Eyes Marek. Oviler and Cheryl had stopped near the lake and were sitting in the moonlight. "Probably dreaming of a future and a hope," she mumbled. Laughter from the church turned her head and she smiled to see Pastor Joe and Kathy sitting on the steps, heads so close to one another she could not tell them apart. "Hot Kiss and dynamite is right," she mumbled.
Despite her light thoughts, the Duchess was unsettled, as much as she would love to go to sleep, a chill had settled over her soul that had nothing to do with temperature. Premonition? Possible. Irrational fear? Probably not. This was a warning of some kind that she could not identify. Goose bumps began to grow along her arms and she could have sworn that someone other than Marshall Travelers was watching her. "Worrying is like paying a debt you don't owe," she quoted Mark Twain. "I feel a very large debt coming due." Then she quoted General George Custer, ""We're screwed!" Hope I'm wrong," she said and went inside, wondering if she could convince Roamine to make her another Long Island Ice Tea.
Chapter 4 |
Shane handed the book to Oliver, then rolled over so that her head was in his lap and she was looking up at him. "Marshall Gale has a point," she said.
Oliver began running his fingers through her hair and was rewarded by a contented sigh. "And what is that?" he whispered.
"Why me and not Dale?"
Oliver continued running his fingers through her hair, thinking in silence for several minutes. "Are you purring?" he asked suddenly.
"Might be," she smiled. "Answer the question. Wait, did you ever go out with Dale?"
"As I have already told you, years ago her route and mine intersected at a small coffee shop and we would spend a few minutes there, together, nearly every day. That practice continued for, well, more than a year. The subject of dating did come up more than once, but she wanted to further her career in law enforcement before she got serious about anyone, spent most of her free time hanging out with other cops. Eventually, the scripture that says, "Bad company corrupts good morals" was proven. But there is another scripture that says, "A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.""
"That is Oliver-Speak for you rescued her."
"Long story short, yes. That's when I got her back into a prayer group and singing in the choir. Shortly after that, I met Holly."
"We don't need to go there. Now answer the question why not Dale?"
Oliver smiled at his wife. "Renita's answer was both correct and flawed."
"What do you mean?"
"The female mind follows one set of guidelines for selecting a mate, the male mind a completely different set. Each is looking for something completely different than the other. Doesn't mean they are wrong, just means there is a vast difference between child nurturing and hunting gathering. For example, when we first met you probably noticed the cut of my suit, the color of my tie and pocket square, the briefcase I carried and the tilt of my hat. I, on the other hand, noticed your eyes. But I get ahead of myself."
"Feel free to elaborate there Mr. O'Toole."
He nodded. "And so I will Mrs. O'Toole. There was a night that was probably the worst night of my life. I spent hours on the phone to Paris, trying to find Holly. Unlike the night in D.C. when she left without a word, it was obvious this night that she did not want to be found, which made the darkness that much longer and empty. By the time the night was over, I actually entertained the thought that my marriage was over, even though I would not say those words out loud for many months to come."
"And that is important why?"
Oliver nervously cleared his throat. Shane placed a gently hand on the side of his face as encouragement. "Because it was the very next day that we met at that coffee cart."
"Oh my," Shane gasped, eyes wide. "Now that is interesting because you were flirting with me, very subtly, but flirting."
"I was not – ." Shane gave him the two eyebrow up don't-lie-to-me expression and cut the denial off. "Ok. So I was flirting a little. Point is, I saw a pair of beautiful eyes that did not look with judgment but with gentleness. I saw a woman who did not hide from the world behind guile the way so many do, including Holly. This peculiar blonde was facing the world toe to toe simply by knowing who she was and what her strengths were. Truth be told, Ms McInerney, you were the first woman I noticed after Holly."
Shane was watching his face casually, touching without touching. "You're holding something back," she said softly.
Oliver smiled down at her. "You know me better than anyone, don't you?" She nodded and smiled back. "Are you sure you want to know?" Again, she nodded. "There is a secret that most women don't know," he said. "Worse, many of the so called modern men seem to have forgotten. The first man Adam was created in God's image, and just like the Creator, he was imbued with the desire and willingness to die for his bride. That is why Adam ate the fruit Eve offered even though he could still hear God's warning ringing in his ears." He carefully used a gently hand to wipe a tear from her eye. "To borrow the words of Jane Austen, "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.'' Then came the bank vault and I saw a new side of you, vulnerable, frightened and I was suddenly filled with a powerful" – he closed his eyes, searching almost frantically for the right word – "need to protect you but I was not allowed because of the ring on my hand. That is when I knew I had to mail that letter to Holly. To finally expose the truth and face the future."
She nodded. "Do you believe in soulmates?"
"I don't know. But I do know that walking out of that vault, I knew that I had found God's perfect mate for me, a mate that I would willingly obey the scripture that says, "Husbands love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.""
"But I had no faith then."
"And your point is what? There is a devout man in the Old Testament who one day met the woman God had selected for him, and she was a Gentile "with no faith" as you put it. Yet that woman, Ruth, became the great grandmother of King David. God can work with hope and build faith if you let Him. You have learned that. Point is, you were sent at just the right time to save my life, and that is the answer to your question. You were sent, not Dale, and God was right. Our two hearts, both wounded by childhood and scarred by relationships, were exactly what the other needed at exactly the right time. You the Little Letter Writer and me, forever your Letter Reader."
He stopped and wiped at her tears again. "Shane, you possess the amazing power to change my heartbeat with a single glance. At the end of the day you can even bring me back from the dead with a touch. No other woman can do that. Only you."
She smiled then, blue eyes glistening brightly. "So say it with Oliver-Speak."
He nodded. "The characters written by Rita Haywith obey the hand of the author. The bottom line is that you and I were scripted by a higher power. The DLO is merely a stage and we merely players in the drama."