"And we're only playing till nine, because we've got calves to brand first thing in the morning."
"No problem," Bobby assured him, picking up his cards and smiling at what he saw. "No way I will have to take care of Auntie with a good hand like this." Dusty glared at him. "You are bluffing. Again." "you will just have to wait and see," the young man drawled. He picked up a red chip and tossed it into the pile. "My turn to open."
Andrew glanced at his cards, but his mind wasn't on poker, that was for sure. He was thinking Bobby growing up and getting married. Settling down. Becoming a responsible member of the community. Which deserved a cold beer if anything did. "Hand me another one of those," he told Dusty, whose chair was next to the cooler stuffed with ice, beer and cans of sugar-free iced tea, because Roy was diabetic and Shorty only drank on Saturday nights.
"I thought we were only playing till nine, Bobby teased as he passed a can of beer to Andrew.
"I'll drink it fast," he promised, still eyeing the younger man. "You Know what getting married means, don't you? No more women. plural."
"Yes, sir," he said. "there's only one woman for me now."
Andrew wished he could believe it. He didn't dare imagine how simple life would be. he folded his cards and opened the beer. "I'm out," he said unwilling to risk any money on a hand with an eight high. "No use wasting money. Not when Bobby's so pleased with himself."
Besides, if this news was true, his good luck was just beginning.
ROSE MARTI eyed the tiny bundle of fur that was asleep in the middle of her kitchen floor. Snoring softly, the six-pound Shih Tzu lay curled up in his bed and appeared completely oblivious to the two women who watched him. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him."
"He loves you," Francisca replied, and gave her aunt a bright smile.
"He doesn't know any better," Rose pointed out. "He is not very bright."
Francisca sat down on the white tile and stroked the dog's back. "When I get married I'm going to have big dogs."
"Could we stop talking about marriage for a few minutes?" Rose looked at her watch. She had expected to have the car parked and the condo closed up by one, in time to avoid rush hour traffic on Interstate 195. Rhode Island's major highways took a beating during the summer season, and it was best to avoid commuter traffic along with the Friday afternoon rush to the Cape. "I'm running late. Can you take him out for me?"
"Sure. I'm all packed, too."
"You are determined to go to Texas, even after everything I've said..."
"I don't know why not," Francisca grumbled. "But that doesn't necessarily mean you're ready for marriage." And talking didn't necessarily mean that her niece would listen to her advice, either.
"I AM IN LOVE. Don't you believe me?"
Rose pulled the garbage can over to the refrigerator. She opened the door and started tossing perishables into the plastic liner. "I believed you when you wanted to elope with your English professor, the one who said you had a gift for poetry."
"But..."
"And I believed you when you dropped out of school to study art in Italy with-what was his name?"
"Vincenzo."
"And then there was that television director who said you'd be perfect for 'Baywatch' "
"I had a part..."
"You screamed at a jelly fish in a crowd scene."
She eyed a chunk of mozzarella cheese, then tucked it into the overcrowded freezer. One of these days, She promised to herself, she would clean out the freezer and make a Casserole.
Francisca shrugged. "I don't think Hollywood appreciated me. Except for the scream, I mean. I'll bet I could have done horror flicks."
"And this Cowboy 'does' appreciate you?"
"He is cute. And funny. And he looks soooo good In jeans." Francisca Sighed.
"A necessary requirement for a husband, I'm sure."
"You know what they say about cowboys, don't you?"
"No, and I don't want to." Rose didn't want to know anything more about cowboys. She wanted to go to Cape Cod and shop for antiques and read mystery novels and wear flowered sundresses that made her feel cool and summery. She wanted to dunk the chunks of lobster In melted butter and sip icy cold wine.
"I've bought sunscreen and a new bathing suit and I'm all set to open up the beach house..."
"I'd like you to meet my future husband," Francisca said. "Since you are my only living relative and everything."
Which, of course was the problem. Francisca had been hers for the past five and half years, ever since her mother died. And Rose had Taken her role of guardian seriously. Too seriously, Francisca insisted now that she was twenty-one. But Francisca was the kind of girl who got herself in the strangest predicaments and forever needed rescuing.
"Come on, Auntie Rose," Francisca said, picking up the little dog and cradling him in her lap.
"Pookie can come, too."
"He will have to," Rose murmured. "I can't imagine putting him in a kennel."
"Then you are saying you will go with me?"
"No way. the last time I got you out of trouble, I ended up snowed in..." she stopped, remembering that weekend in Chicago.
"You can't blame the blizzard on me."
No, Rose thought. And she couldn't blame what happened that night on anyone but herself.
"Why can't you just go to college and date normal boys?"
"Bobby's normal, for a Texan. He owns a ranch," Francisca explained. "And he wants me-us-to see it."
"Last fall all you wanted was to go back to college. Now you want to go to Texas and see a ranch and someone named Bobby who told you he owned a ranch. How do you know he is telling the truth?"
Francisca shrugged. "The McAllisters said he owned one of the biggest operation in Texas.
Or the county. Or something. You will like him."
No, she wouldn't. and even if she did, Francisca was too young to get married. "You are too young to get married," Rose said out loud, shutting the refrigerator. She made the mistake of glancing toward her niece, whose eyes looked as if they'd filled with tears. "Don't do this to me, Francis."
"You can go to the beach after you meet him."
"Texas is a long way from Cape Cod," she said, but Rose knew she'd let herself be talked into falling in with Francisca's plan.
"You will only have to stay a little while. And you have all summer on the beach, till school starts."
Francisca stood and tucked the sleepy Pookie against her chest. "please? I already bought our tickets."
"The Atlantic Ocean versus hot, dry Texas Rose muttered, already knowing what her decision would be. "Gee, what a choice."
Come on, Auntie Rose. it will be fun."
No, it wouldn't, Rose knew, tying the garbage bag shut. Keeping Francisca out of trouble never was.
"I LOOKED in the paper, Andrew. There's a quilt show In Beauville next weekend."
"A quilt show," Andrew repeated, eyeing his boss with a decided lack of enthusiasm. Trust Bobby to come up with something like this. "what the hell am I supposed to do while this old lady looks at quilts?"
The young man fidgeted with his hat, smoothed his hair and replaced his Stetson so that his eyes were shaded against the afternoon sun. "Might not be so bad," he said, but he didn't meet Andrew's gaze.
"Colourful, even."
"I was thinking about Antiques," Andrew suggested.
"Those older ladies like all that old stuff."
*****
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