Chapter Two

Blaze

 

“Are you sure we need to go to this thing, Rusty? It been a long day on the trail, and there’s so much work still to be done. I could stay behind and work on getting caught up before tomorrow so the men have a chance in hell at a decent weekend, or at least a Sunday off.”

“All work and no play makes a grumpy boss,” Rusty responded dryly.  “Besides, what are you going to eat if we don’t go? Your cooking isn’t any better than it was yesterday, and I just barely got the ad in before the newspaper office closed. We don’t have a cook yet, or even any prospects for one. And we need to go to the market, so unless you want to starve…”

“My men are more important than my stomach,” I responded, even as my stomach growled.

“Well, you’re a fool then. Your men make time to play and eat. They are all heading into the saloon in town as we speak. They will be eating and playing, if you catch my drift.”

Suddenly my stubborn work ethic didn’t seem quite as appealing. Not when stacked up against the temptation of Miss Betty’s barbeque ribs, fried chicken, potato salad and corn bread. My stomach growled again, giving me away, and Rusty guffawed loudly.

“You know Miss Betty will have both our hides if either one of us don’t show up. You aren’t tryna get me in trouble now, are you, boss? That’s not very nice. I wouldn’t do that to you. Least, not with Miss Betty. That woman can be downright scary iff’n she wants to be.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah fine. I’m going. Just give me a few to get washed up.”

Rusty nodded. “I’ll be out on the porch, having a few drags. Can’t smoke around Miss Betty. Poor woman and her asthma.”

I took my time getting ready, giving Rusty ample time to enjoy his nightly pre-dinner cigarette.  A quick shower to clean off the sheen of trail dust, and a fresh pair of Levi’s with a clean shirt. My own image in the mirror made me laugh. Getting dressed every day was still a shock. Gone were the fine Italian suits and loafers I had pretty much grown up in. The expensive sneakers I loved had been replaced by worn leather boots, and my facial hair had been banished for a freshly shaven look.

Even my eye color was complements of colored contacts I didn’t need. The odds of being recognized in Texas, especially after several years were slimmer with each passing day, but I had liked the idea of a new appearance to match my new life. My gym routine had easily been replaced by a hard day’s work, and I was now in the best shape of my life. And I was almost used to the new look. Almost.

I brushed my teeth, spritzed myself with some old western themed, cheap cologne that seemed to be popular around these parts, combed my hair, and set off in search of Rusty.

As guilty as I felt for not staying behind to work, a home cooked meal and some good company did seem vastly more appealing than canned spam and mucking stalls.

And if I timed it right, there might be time to do both. Mike and Betty were our closest neighbors. In these rural parts, that was still a good ten minute drive down a lot of old weather-worn back roads. Betty was a retired school teacher, and Mike was supposedly the same, but that story had never quite rung true, thought I had never been able to figure out why. Either way, the older couple was the epitome of the expression salt of the earth, and both were known for being the heart of the small community.

Their house and Betty’s dinner parties were always a melting pot of community members, ranging in age from nine months to ninety. Whoever you found there on any given day, one thing was certain to be true. They were in need of a warm hug, a kind word, and a hot meal. Betty usually dished up all three herself.

It was no surprise when the older woman ran out to the truck to greet us as soon as we pulled up, still wiping her hands on the front of a flour covered apron as she reached us.

She put her arms out for a hug, and I stepped in. She hugged everyone, and never really gave them a choice in the matter, but I didn’t mind. Italian women were similar in that, so I guess in a way Betty reminded me of home.

“Blaze Vale,” she drawled into my ear. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Why if I was only about 30 years younger and not madly in love with my husband, I’d chase you around the apple tree, yes I would.”

“If I was about 20 years older, and not thoroughly convinced that your husband could whoop my ass, I might just let you catch me, Miss Betty,” I teased in kind.

Her answer was a squeal of laughter, as she moved on to hug Rusty while I turned towards the house in search of Mike. Before I got more than a few steps, Miss Betty caught me by the waist, and pulled me towards the grove of trees in the yard.

“My heart will never recover from the disappointment of not having you as mine,” she whispered jokingly. “But since it’s not to be, C’mon over here a minute. Got someone I want you to meet.”

I groaned loudly, and Rusty guffawed behind us. “If she’s not a cook, looking for a job, he’s not interested, Miss Betty.”

The woman stopped dead in her tracks at Rusty’s decree. Rusty and I looked at each other in stunned confusion. Dissuading Miss Betty once she had her mind set on an idea was usually a fruitless endeavor.  She let go of her grip on my waist and tapped her finger to her lips thoughtfully. “A cook, you say? Looking for a job? At the ranch, I suppose you mean? Those cowboys finally go on strike against that crap you been trying to pass off as food?”

“Hey, now!” I tried to protest before Rusty cut me off with an enthusiastic “Yes, Ma’am!”

She grabbed me again, tighter this time, and continued pulling me towards the house. So much for dissuading her. Her gait was almost triumphant as she marched us up the stairs, across the wrap around porch, and over to where Mike sat in one of a pair of old rocking chairs near the front door.

“Blaze here is looking for a cook out at the ranch,” she announced to her husband with a twinkle in her eye. “Do you know anyone who might be interested in that position?”

“Is that so?” Mike’s expression matched his wife’s.  “I reckon I just might know the perfect person.”
 

That was when I noticed her. The pale young woman occupied the chair opposite Mike’s. Her dishwater blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, and didn’t quite seem to match her pale olive skin tone. Her eyes were a light green, and her floral dress hung on her unassuming body. Everything about her seemed to scream out a need to blend in. That was something I could relate to these days.

There was a peculiarness about her that I couldn’t put my finger on, but even with the oddities in her appearance, and the way the dress swallowed her whole, I could see the she was a beauty.

“You looking for a job?” I asked, half hoping she wasn’t.

“Hey,” Rusty exclaimed beside me, “I know you! You’re that feisty waitress from Jerry’s Diner!”

“Not anymore. I quit today,” she admitted shyly.

“Good. That place is a disgrace. The men who go there treat it like their own personal meat market, and the food ain’t even that good. Although,” he added mischievously, “it is a lot better than Blazes’ cooking.”

That elicited a giggle from the girl. I glared at Rusty, but stepped back and let him do the talking. Hiring people was his job. I had never been so tempted to take it from him.

“Can you cook?” Rusty asked bluntly, eyeing her shrewdly.

“Well, I’m sure I can cook better than your friend here,” she teased, standing up, and extending her hand out to Rusty. “I’m Lucy, by the way.”

Rusty of course, pulled out all the stops, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips before releasing it. “Name’s Rusty. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss. We happen to be looking for a cook, down at Pheonix Acres, just up the road a ways. Do you have references?”

Mike stood then, resting his hand on Lucy’s shoulder in a fatherly fashion. “I can vouch for Miss Lucy here. And I can vouch for these two old coots as well,” he added pointedly, frowning at Rusty.

 “Mike’s word is good enough for me, if it’s good enough for you, ma’am. Job is six am to four pm, five days a week. Overtime pay if you can work Saturday. Health benefits after three months, and ol’ Blaze here pays very well. Oh, and our cowboys will behave like gentlemen. I can promise you that.”

She smiled with her whole face, and for the first time, looked whole. “You have yourself a cook, Mister Rusty!” She leaned forward, and kissed his cheek, giving an excited squeal as she bounced away, talking to Miss Betty at a mile a minute as they walked towards the back door kitchen entrance.

“Aww shucks.” Rusty blushed, wiping his face with the back of his hand.  Mike watched with a frown, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Lucy. Her floral dress floated in the wind, but the breeze picked it up and pulled it tight against her waist, giving me a full glimpse of the curves hiding underneath the flimsy fabric. A tiny hourglass waist and a perfectly round backside. This woman was going to be in my kitchen every day? And Rusty thought the men would behave themselves? Rusty might be fooling himself. They were cowboys, not saints.

At this point, I wasn’t even sure I would be able to behave myself.  It had been a long time since I had been with a woman, and this particular one? She made me want to do much more than just look.