The Trouble with Texas Cowboys(33)

The irritating voice didn’t have a comeback, which aggravated Jill even more. She pulled the oven omelet out and set it on a hot pad in the middle of the table, put out plates and silverware, and refilled their coffee cups.

Sawyer winked at her when the second round of toast popped up. “I must have lost my power. It’s perfectly browned, not burnt. Hey, you mentioned retail therapy yesterday. Have you ever ordered flowers online?”

Dammit to hell and back on a rusty old poker. He’d decided to send flowers to one of those hot women of his past.

“Yes, I have. I send them to my mom in Kentucky all the time,” she said. “It’s easy peasy. You key in your credit card numbers after you pick out what you want, tell them the date you need it delivered, and hit send.”

Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry and even the coffee tasted horrible.

“Can they even get flowers to Comfort, Texas?” he asked. “That’s pretty far back in the woods.”

His old flame was about to get a second chance.

“Don’t know the logistics of the whole business, but they get them there when they say they will. I expect they pick out the nearest florist, and believe me, for the price you pay, they can afford to cough up the delivery fee.”

He set the plate of toast on the table and hurried to his room, returning with a laptop. “Okay, show me the place you use.”

He’d already gotten online, so she went straight for the site, and he picked out the biggest bouquet of red roses offered, typed in all the information, and hit the “send” button. “Wow, that is fantastic. My sister is going to be so surprised when they arrive at her house in a couple of hours.”

“Your sister?” Jill spit out.

“Today is her birthday. Let’s eat before it gets cold. I’m starving, and there’s chores waiting for us to do.” He dipped deeply into the egg casserole and picked up two pieces of toast. “It’s already buttered, and there’s apple butter and grape jam in the fridge if you want it. As for me, I’m planning on a second helping of this scrumptious-lookin’ casserole rather than having extra toast with jelly.”

Sawyer’s sister and Jill were two happy women.

“So is your sister younger than you?”

Sawyer shook his head, swallowed, and sipped his coffee. “Oh, no. She’s the oldest of four, and bossed us boys around like she was the Queen of Sheba. She was twelve when I was born, so she thought she had as much power over me as Mama. She still likes to boss me, since I’m the only single one left in the family. And believe me, if I forgot her birthday, the sun would fall from the sky.”

“Her name?”

“Martina, and my brothers are Hugh and Kevin. Mama is Latino. Daddy is Irish. They made an agreement that Mama could name the girls with names from her heritage, and Daddy could give the boys Irish names.”

“And Sawyer is Irish?”

He grinned. “No, it’s English. If Daddy hadn’t loved his daughter so much, I would probably be Seamus, or maybe Tomas, but Martina cried when I wasn’t a baby sister. Mama had been reading Tom Sawyer to the kids, and if Martina couldn’t have a sister, then she wanted a brother named Sawyer. Daddy tried to talk her into Tom, but she’d have no part of it. So he gave in to her tears, and I’m Sawyer.”

“It fits better than Seamus or Tom,” Jill said.

“Well, thank you for that and for this delicious breakfast. You think we should call a babysitter for Piggy and Chick, or can they stay by themselves until we come back from chores?”

Jill looked at the sleeping kittens. “They’ll grow up fast. We’ll have to make a medical decision, Sawyer. Do we have them spayed or let them have kittens?”

“We can decide that later. Right now, let them be babies,” he answered.

* * *

It had been a slow afternoon at the store, and both Sawyer and Jill wished for the kittens to entertain them. He propped his feet on the counter, dropped his cowboy hat down over his eyes, and started to snore. She sat on the counter, back to the cash register, and went through emails from her mother and her best friend back in Kentucky. She replied and told them both all about the kittens and what they’d named them. She didn’t mention, nor did she intend to tell them, about the kidnapping business.

Her phone rang immediately, and she fished it out of her purse and headed to the back so the conversation wouldn’t wake Sawyer.

“Okay, young lady, talk. I can always tell more from your voice than those sterile emails. Two cowboys brought you kittens?” her mother, Barbara, asked.

“It’s two of the three that kissed me that day,” Jill said.

“The other one did not bring you a kitten. What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s smarter and does less to irritate me than the other two.”

“Please tell me you aren’t going to stay in Burnt Boot permanently. Those people in that part of Texas are crazy. Gladys and Polly should act their age and sell all that property to the highest bidder. They are not spring chickens anymore, and it’s time for them to retire,” Barbara said.

“I think that’s what they’re trying to do.”

Jill got a long martyred sigh for her answer.

“I don’t mean retire and put you in charge. Dammit! Jill!”

“It’s okay, Mama. I can take care of myself.” Jill went on to tell her more about the feud and the way things were happening, leaving out the part about Sawyer’s kisses and how they affected her. “And now I have a customer, so I have to go. You should come see me in Burnt Boot.”

“No, thank you. You come see me, and we’ll go up to Lexington and spend the day in the spa, stay overnight, and shop until we drop.”

“We’ll talk about it later. Got to go,” Jill said.

“Tell your aunts hello for me. I can’t believe you’re living in that backwater place, but you’ve always been strong willed and liked boots better than high heels.” Barbara’s tone was scolding as she ended the call.

“What customer?” Sawyer asked.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Jill asked.

Sawyer shook his head slowly. “But I could hear her all the way over here. I didn’t know she was that much against your being here,” he said. “Now where’s the customer?”

The little bell at the top of the door dinged, and Jill pointed to Verdie. “Right there.”

Verdie started talking the second the door shut behind her. “Hey, y’all, looks like it’s a slow day. I figured more folks would be in town, what with all the gossip flyin’ around. I heard that the pig war tried to do something else over the weekend and failed. Some folks saw Tilly out with two unidentified people in the back of his wagon. It’s bein’ rumored that a Gallagher was shot, or else that a Brennan and a Gallagher were up to hanky-panky and got caught.”

“And what would Tilly have to do with that?” Sawyer asked.

“He’d be bringin’ them into town for a price. Gladys done told me the real story, but I ain’t breathin’ a word of it. Let them think a Brennan shot a Gallagher if they want to.” She pushed a cart toward the meat counter. “I need three pounds of shaved ham, a pound of bologna, and a pound of summer sausage. Got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jill said.

“What brought you out in the cold this Tuesday afternoon?” Sawyer hung his hat on the rack and headed to the meat market. “I’ll take care of your order back here. Jill can help you with the rest of it.”

“Lunch makings for the kids. I’m going to pick them up at school while I’m in town. Y’all hear about the new kink in the pig war?” She put three loaves of bread in the cart and added two five-pound bags of apples.

“I think that idea of calling it a pig war is funny, but I bet those two families that think they’re better than the rest of us don’t think it’s a bit humorous,” Sawyer said.

“Don’t matter what either one of those families like. They shouldn’t have started this thing. They act like children, and this new thing is really childish. Pork rinds were delivered to the Brennans this morning, and ‘oink, oink’ was written on the gift card.”

“Oh, really. Pork rinds, huh?” Sawyer chuckled.

“You think that’s funny?” Verdie asked.

“Yes, I do. Don’t you?”

Verdie nodded. “Laughed my ass off when I heard about it. The Gallaghers thought they were rubbin’ in the thievin’ of those hogs.”

“So you think they really did steal them?” Jill asked.

“Yes, I do, but proving it is another matter, and until there is proof, there won’t be no arrests made. Sawyer, put three of those ten-pound bags of potatoes in my cart, please.”

“How about I put them on the counter, and then when you’re done, I’ll take them out to your van?” he said.

“Thank you. Now, I was saying, the Gallaghers got their comeuppance a few minutes later when they got a bunch of some kind of dog treats called Chicken Chips delivered to them.” She chuckled and then guffawed.

“And that’s funny?” Jill asked.

“Hell, no, but the note was. It said it was for ‘the Gallagher bitches.’ Dogs. Bitches. Chickens. I think that’s funnier than the pork rinds,” Verdie said.