The Trouble with Texans
Autore
Maggie Simpson
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Chapter 1
“SOTOL JUNCTION?” Without taking her eyes off her mother’s face, Michelle Davis leaned forward and set her plate on the antique coffee table with enough force to rattle the delicate china cup. “You want me to go to Sotol Junction? In Texas?”
“Yes, dear.” Elizabeth sounded as if she was merely asking Michelle to help with a local charity ball.
“I can’t just quit my job. It’s the middle of March.” But even as she said the words, Michelle felt intrigued by the idea. Television images of drugstore cowboys and cowgirls swinging to country music flashed before her eyes, superimposed on the urban sprawl of Houston, the only place in Texas she’d ever visited.
“Of course you can. You could ask for a leave of absence. Finding a teacher to fill in for you at St. Mary’s shouldn’t be difficult. Besides, I’m only asking for two months of your time. And this is about family. ” Elizabeth gently emphasized the word.
Michelle had been raised on “family.” Her mother was very conscious of the Davis’s position in Boston society, and she wielded a lot of power to maintain it. Her biggest disappointments had been Michelle’s choice of occupation and her eldest daughter DeeDee’s choice of husband, Jacob Evans. Now it was driving Elizabeth crazy that Jacob had custody of her only granddaughter, Brooke.
Michelle sighed and asked the obvious question, “Why do you think I need to go to Texas? Jacob can take care of Brooke without our interference.”
Elizabeth stirred her tea without making a sound, a feat Michelle had never quite mastered. “I’m not so sure. Jacob refuses to allow Brooke to spend the summer here with me.”
“He probably doesn’t want to be separated from her for that long. I’m sure he’ll agree to the usual two weeks. He’s always been more than generous about holidays and vacations.” Elizabeth acted as though she hadn’t heard Michelle, something she often did if the conversation wasn’t going her way.
“Mother, you’ve never been happy about Jacob having custody of Brooke, but he’s had her since he and DeeDee were divorced. It really was better for Brooke to live with her father and have a stable home rather than traipse around Europe with DeeDee and her new husband, or worse, be sent to a boarding school. And now that DeeDee is—is gone, nothing has really changed.”
“I know. But at least, when DeeDee was alive—” Elizabeth swallowed and straightened her shoulders “—Brooke spent some time with her and saw a bit more of life than is offered in Sotol Junction.”
“Texas isn’t another planet. It is a part of the United States, you know.”
“Don’t be condescending, Michelle. Of course it isn’t the end of the world. But before you accuse me of being snobbish, you have to admit that many opportunities are denied her there.”
“True, but she’s with her father.” Michelle thought about the students in the boarding school where she taught. They took horseback-riding lessons, music lessons, attended celebrity lectures and had all kinds of opportunities, but they didn’t have a parent to comfort them at night. Brooke did.
“I can think of no other advantage, if that’s an advantage, to living in that backward border town,” Elizabeth said crisply. “When I spoke to Brooke on the phone this morning, she gave me some startling news. Her school’s teacher has resigned and if a new teacher isn’t found immediately, Brooke may have to be bused to Alpine an hour and a half away. I just can’t stand the thought of the child making the trip twice a day when it can easily be avoided.”
“So...you want me to quit my job immediately and go down there to teach in a one-room schoolhouse?” Michelle asked incredulously.
Elizabeth frowned. “I simply want you to take a leave of absence. Besides, it isn’t as though you need that job.”
Her mother’s comment irritated Michelle, but again she had to admit the suggestion was strangely appealing. St. Mary’s School for Girls prided itself on its staid and proper curriculum for its staid and proper young ladies. Nothing exciting had happened since Sarah Worthington ran away with her boyfriend three years ago, and Mr. J. C. Worthington III had threatened to withdraw his contribution to the building fund. The headmistress still referred to the incident as “a dark time in St. Mary’s history.”
Michelle was not an impulsive person. She always thought through every move she made, weighing all the consequences. Every now and then, she wondered what it would be like to be more like her sister DeeDee had been and do something just for adventure. But DeeDee’s adventures had had a way of misfiring, and Michelle had learned from observing her as they grew up that it was better to play things safe. “No, Mother, I can’t...”
“Think of your sister. You owe it to her to do what you can for her little girl.”
Michelle and DeeDee had never been close. DeeDee had been several years older and more interested in the social side of being a Davis. Michelle was quieter, more reserved. She’d been interested in the volunteer and philanthropic efforts of their family. Until her father’s death five years earlier, she and he had worked together for several good causes.
Michelle knew her mother was trying to manipulate her, as usual. It might be time for a change, to escape Elizabeth’s control, to experience other parts of the States. And the Southwest did have a certain raw appeal. Then, too, there was nothing really to keep her in Boston. Her relationship with Brent Paxton was going nowhere. They’d dated for eighteen months, but if he called and begged off at the last minute, she was only mildly annoyed at the inconvenience. Perhaps putting some miles between them could help her make sense of her ambivalent feelings. She looked at her mother. “Two months. That’s all?”
“I believe so, except...”
“Except?”
“You know how I feel about Brooke’s situation, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t do something.” Elizabeth Davis smoothed her skirt and sighed deeply before leaning toward her daughter.
“Do what?” Michelle asked.
“I’m ... I’m not sure that Brooke is being properly cared for. I mean, well, before—before DeeDee’s accident, Brooke was supervised when traveling with her mother in the summer.” Her voice caught and she looked down at the carpet for a moment. Though almost two years had passed since a private plane crash had taken the life of her daughter and new son-in-law, Elizabeth still would not use the word death when speaking of DeeDee.. “But now, the situation is quite different. From what I can tell, Brooke is often unsupervised when she’s not in school. She’s not quite nine years old, and on her own for hours on end. It would be much better for her to live here. With me.”
“What does that have to do with my teaching in Sotol Junction?”
“While you’re there, I want you to see what you can learn about Jacob Evans. Almost everyone has some little secret they don’t want exposed.”
“Mother, that’s blackmail. I won’t be a party to...”
Elizabeth stood up and began to arrange the china on the silver tea tray. “I want custody of Brooke—whatever the cost.”
“I SAY WE’RE MAKING a big mistake if we hire her.” Jake Evans tossed the application onto the table and got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. Only the creaks of the worn but highly polished pine floor reacting to his weight broke the silence. His ex-sister-in-law. Why the hell did she want the job? Since Sotol Junction needed a teacher desperately, he’d have to make a good case to get the other members of the Brewster County school board to agree with him not to consider the application.
He studied Paloma Tarango, the board president, who was in her early fifties, but who looked every bit of sixty after spending years in the sun. He liked her. After all, she’d had a hand in seeing that the small community had accepted him four years earlier. He tried to read her thoughts in her weathered face, but failed.
He scanned his fellow board members. To his left was Mike Cochran, his partner in Junction Outfitters. Across from Mike sat Ramon Abalos, a very influential local rancher, then Prof Broselow, Bill Wiley and Juan Lopez completed the circle. They were a confident group used to taking their own easy time making a decision, but hell, they needed a teacher. Now.
Mike leaned forward to pick up the packet Jake had tossed on the table. “Even if we didn’t have to hire a teacher, just look at this application. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He flipped about halfway through the portfolio that had been sent express mail. “Look at the projects the woman has developed. I think she would be good for our kids. Besides, we have to hire a teacher tonight, no more postponements. We’ve simply run out of time.” Mike emphasized his last words.
Ramon picked up the few remaining applications. “Paloma and I called about most of these applicants.” Slapping down the forms one at a time, he said, “This one has been in four different schools in four years, which tells me a lot. This one had constant trouble with parents at the last school where she taught.” He hesitated as he looked at an attachment to the next application, “This fella’s had some trouble with the law,” he said before slapping it down on the growing pile. “And these last three were just spit out of college. Our kids deserve an experienced teacher.” He eyed Jake. “You know how much trouble we’ve had finding someone who was willing to teach six grade levels in a one-room school this far from a city.”
Jake nodded. “Yeah, I do. And that’s exactly my point. There must be something wrong with Ms. Davis for her to want this job.”
“It’s unlike you to be so against someone without reason.” Paloma leaned forward and idly rubbed the eraser of her pencil against the well-worn oak. “According to her references, she’s not only highly qualified, but resourceful. When I called the school where she teaches, the headmistress said Ms. Davis wants to get out of the city for a while. Apparently, she said she is a bit of a do-gooder and thinks this would be a good place to do good.” All the board members laughed except Jake.
Paloma continued, “Why are you so opposed to her when you’ve not voiced the same reservations about the other applicants?”
Jake leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He had to tell them. “She used to be my sister-in-law. And if Michelle Davis is anything like her sister, the Texas-Mexico border is no place for her.”
“Ah.” Mike nodded in apparent understanding. “That paints a slightly different picture. Does that mean you have some inside information we need to know?”
“No, I’ve only met her a few times. Haven’t seen her since Brooke was born. It’s just that she’s a city girl from the East. Pampered. I think we need a teacher with a different background.” His memory of his bride’s kid sister had faded. But he knew the type—a socialite more interested in shopping than in helping kids. Shed probably become a teacher as a lark.
“I see what you mean. A Yankee just might have trouble fittin’ in down here.” Bill patted his palm on the table for effect.
Jake knew he had to latch on to every bit of support he could get. “You’re right. And after she gets a load of this place...” He conjured up all the negatives he could think of. “The scorpions, the remoteness, the scorching heat, she’ll be gone. And we’ll be stuck without a teacher again.”
“Jake, we all respect your opinion and definitely understand your reservations, but we’re in a bind,” Paloma said. “We have to do what we think is best for our children. That means personal feelings shouldn’t influence our decision.”
“I’ve voiced my opinion,” he said. “You folks do what you have to do.” He listened as the others discussed the pros and cons of hiring an Easterner, and of Brooke’s having her aunt for a teacher.
Finally, Ramon said, “I need to get home. I’ve got a mare that could foal any time. I make a motion we take a vote to hire Michelle Davis, even if she wants to go back East thirty minutes after school’s out for the summer. That’ll give us a little time to find someone else for next fall.”
The others nodded.
“A motion has been made by Ramon Abalos that we hire Ms. Michelle Davis,,” Paloma said. “Do I hear a second?”
Mike said, “Second.” Turning to Jake, he lowered his voice, “Sorry to upset you, buddy, but she’s our best choice.”
“Okay,” Paloma said, looking at Jake, “if there’s no further discussion, all in favor, raise your hand.”
Jake watched five people indicate approval, but he couldn’t make himself go along with them. Michelle was up to something other than “doing good.” He was sure of it. He’d bet anything Elizabeth had put her up to this.
“Opposed?”
“Well, I think I’m gonna put my money on Jake this round, folks,” Bill Wiley said and raised his right hand. “I mean, I’ve got a kid in that school that I have to think about.”
Jake shrugged, then, he, too, raised his right hand in objection.
“Let the record show that Jake Evans and Bill Wiley oppose the hiring of Michelle Davis for the position of elementary-school teacher,” Paloma said. “Now we’ve got a game of dominoes to finish.”
March 20
THE WEST TEXAS landscape didn’t improve as Michelle neared Sotol Junction. It was all so brown! Only a few scraggly cacti and spots of purple wildflowers softened the rocky hills bordering both sides of the highway. Ancient, rugged mountains jutted from the -desert floor in the distance. The great monochromatic blanket stretched to the horizon in every direction, making her slightly nauseated. The nearest thing to it she’d experienced was sailing in the Atlantic. The same feeling of insignificance washed over her. It was hard to believe this place was on the same planet as Boston with its surrounding hills and woods, much less in the same country.
Already she missed the lush green trees of New England. Why had she agreed to come here? Even after mailing her application, she hadn’t been certain she would accept the job if it was offered to her. That was, until Jacob had called her mother and suggested Michelle refuse the position. There had to be a reason he didn’t want her in Sotol Junction, and the most logical one was that she would find out Brooke was being neglected. Her first allegiance was to her family, and if Brooke needed her, Michelle would go anywhere in the world—and that included Sotol Junction.
Besides, the idea of teaching in a one-room school was exciting. She could bring new experiences and ideas to these underprivileged children. She could really make a difference to their lives.
Ms. Delmonico, the headmistress at St. Mary’s, had agreed that it would be the opportunity of a lifetime, and she’d promised not to hire a permanent replacement. Knowing she had a job waiting for her back East reassured Michelle as she drove down the lonely highway that stretched for miles in front of her.
Heat waves glinted across the asphalt creating a mirage of water, only to flash farther up the road as she approached them. Considering she hadn’t met another vehicle for twenty miles, she decided she’d certainly hate to have car trouble in such a desolate place. She took a sip of the now-tepid soda she’d purchased more than an hour ago- It tasted terrible. She fiddled with the radio for a while, but snapped it off after five futile minutes of trying to find a station broadcasting in English.
Rounding one of the foothills, she was surprised to find she had arrived. At least, that’s what the sign said: Sotol Junction. Population: 63
On one side of the road, several adobe dwellings blended with the land. On the other side was a stretch of two-story buildings that looked like a Western movie set. A tour bus filled with senior citizens pulled out of the dirt parking lot revealing a string of cars with out-of-state license plates lined up in front of a rustic boardwalk. Michelle pulled into a vacant spot and waited for the dust to settle before opening the door.
The instructions she’d received had said to meet Paloma Tarango, the president of the school board, at her pottery gallery in the shopping strip. Trying to erase the signs of hours driving, Michelle slipped on a pair of pumps, touched up her makeup and smoothed the tan linen skirt and white blouse she’d chosen to wear that morning. Satisfied she’d pass muster, Michelle strolled along the boardwalk looking at the string of shops, but when she found the art gallery, she also found a note tacked on the door: “Be right back. ”
Michelle sighed. She’d pushed hard to complete the drive from Boston in three days so she’d have the weekend to prepare for school on Monday. She hadn’t bargained on having to search for this woman named Paloma.
She decided to start her hunt at one end of the boardwalk and work her way down. The first store was an old-fashioned drugstore with a high ceiling and tourist paraphernalia piled on shelves. A balding man with wire-framed glasses and a neatly trimmed goatee looked up from a domino game. “May I help you?” he asked in a well-modulated voice.
“Yes. Do you know where I can find Paloma Tarango ? Her business was closed a few minutes ago.”
“Sometimes she closes up to go visit someone in another store. Just walk down the boardwalk. She’ll be there somewhere. Say, by any chance, are you Michelle Davis, our new teacher?”
“Yes, I’m Michelle Davis.”
“Well, little lady, we’ve been waiting for you all day. I’m Prof Broselow, the proprietor of this drugstore, retired history professor and a member of the school board that hired you. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He stood and offered her his hand.
“Hello. I’m glad to be here, Mr. Broselow.”
“Prof. Call me Prof.” He turned and gestured toward the other man at the table. “This is Bill Wiley.”
Michelle had never seen such long, skinny legs unfold before the man named Bill stood up. The man had to be six-six, and she’d swear four feet of that was legs.
“Ma’am.” He removed his hat and sized her up. “I’ve got a son who’s gonna be in your class.”
Michelle wondered if the boy looked like his father. “I’ll look forward to meeting him, Mr. Wiley.”
After a short conversation with the two men, Michelle walked past Paloma’s locked door to the next place of business, the general store. Everything she could imagine was crammed onto shelves stacked to the ceiling. The aisles were narrow, only allowing one person at a time to pass through. If Paloma was in there, Michelle didn’t see her. Coming outside again, she noticed the sun had dipped behind the mountains. If she wanted to get settled in before dark, she would have to find her hostess soon.
Trying not to lose her patience, Michelle stopped and looked through the next window into the tiny post office. It was empty; so was the restaurant. Only one store left. Junction Outfitters. According to her mother, this was Jacob’s business.
Jacob. A man she hadn’t seen in the eight years since Brooke was born. Even then, the two days she’d been in Houston with her mother and sister, Jacob had spent most of his time at work. Her lingering impressions of him were of a tall man wearing starched white shirts and expensive dark suits. A bit stuffy. Selfimportant. She wondered what he looked like now. He would be in his mid-thirties. Twenty pounds heavier? Balding?
She reached for the door handle, then stopped. No doubt, he would have questions to ask her, questions she would prefer to wait until tomorrow, when she was rested, to answer. Yet, her desire to get settled in was stronger than her reluctance to talk to Jacob. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped inside. When the door chime rang, two women seated at a small table stopped their conversation and looked up. The younger of the women, a petite blonde, set down a cup of coffee. “May I help you?” she asked in a wavering voice.
Michelle wondered what caused her white, drawn face and red eyes. “Yes, I’m looking for Paloma Tarango.”
The older woman rose to her feet, her denim skirt stopping just short of the floor. A mustard-colored suede vest topped a plaid shirt, a silver concho belt cinched the shirt at her waist. Her thick, black hair was laced with silver strands.
The woman stepped forward and offered her hand. In a rich voice, she said, “That would be me. You must be Michelle Davis. I’m sorry I wasn’t at the store when you arrived, but when Cynthia needed me, I came right over,” Paloma explained.
Michelle felt she’d just met a friend. “Yes, I’m Michelle Davis.”
“And this is Cynthia Cochran.”
The blond woman stepped forward wiping her palms on her shorts before she extended her hand. “Welcome to Sotol Junction, Michelle. I’m sure you’re tired after that long drive.”
“Yes, I’m ready to get moved in, but I’d like to see Brooke first.”
“She and my daughter Katy are out messing around somewhere. They’ll be in shortly,” Cynthia said, glancing out the window. “Paloma and I.., with the help of the girls ... did our best to get the house in shape for you.”
“Thank you for all your trouble. I can’t wait to see it. I’m really looking forward to a nice bath and a soft bed.”
Paloma said, “I think we have everything ready. The telephone and TV were hooked up this morning.”
Before Michelle could reply, Cynthia returned from her post by the window. “I know you’re anxious to get there,” she said, “but something’s come up. Our driver, Greg, should get back soon with Mike—he’s my husband—and Jake and the other river runners. One of them was bitten by a rattlesnake on the river today.”
Oh, Lord, Michelle thought, her attention riveted. Ever since someone had thrown a garden snake at her one year at summer camp, Michelle had been terrified of snakes. Even now, she refused to go into the reptile house at the zoo. Still, she tried her best not to let the women see how the news affected her. “A snake?”
“Yes,” Paloma answered. “But we don’t know who it was or how badly he’s hurt. Another group of river runners passed them and relayed a message for an ambulance to come to the mouth of the canyon.”
“You don’t know if the person’s okay? Can’t you contact them or something?” Michelle asked.
Cynthia shook her head. “No, we put our rafts in the river about a quarter of a mile from here and pick them up twelve miles down the river. We can’t reach them during that time.”
Michelle was surprised. “You don’t have radios or cellular phones?”
“No, not in the rafts. They won’t work in the canyon. If a group gets into trouble, they have to float out and use the emergency phone at the mouth of the canyon.”
“Don’t people die from snakebites?” Michelle was sorry for her words the minute she said them. Cynthia gasped and put her hand over her mouth.
“Very seldom.” Paloma placed her arm around Cynthia, and sent a pleading look to Michelle. “All of our guides are trained Emergency Medical Technicians and carry medical supplies.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Michelle asked.
“No, thanks. We just have to wait.” Cynthia tried to smile. At the sound of running footsteps along the boardwalk, she whispered, “That’s Katy and Brooke. Don’t say anything in front of them.”
Two little girls, with hair sticking out of ponytails and dirt smudging their shorts, barged in the front door. “Aunt Michelle! Aunt Michelle!” Brooke flung herself at Michelle. “I heard you were here.”
Michelle hugged her niece and tucked loose strands of Brooke’s hair behind her ears, all the while noting that the child had apparently been running around town unsupervised while Jacob was out on the river possibly dying from a snakebite. Elizabeth had been right to be concerned, she decided.
“Have you seen your house yet? Me and Katy fixed it up for you. There’s even an extra bedroom. For me and Katy to spend the night with you.” The little girls giggled.
“That’ll be great.” Michelle pulled her close. She’d made the right decision to come here. She and Brooke would have a good time for two months. Just then, the sound of tires crunching on the caliche road outside the store diverted everyone’s attention.
“There’s the van. Thank God,” Cynthia yelled as she rushed past Michelle and out the door.
“Aunt Michelle, I’ve gotta go clean up before Daddy sees me like this,” Brooke squealed. “He told me to stay away from the river, and if he sees the mud, I’ll be in trouble, bi-i-ig time. See you later.” With that, she hurried to the rear of the store.
From behind the plate-glass window of Junction Outfitters, Michelle watched as people piled out of the van. Cynthia and Paloma had disappeared in the crowd gathered around the vehicle. A man gestured-toward the north and patted Cynthia on the shoulder before she and Katy hurried to a Jeep and sped off.
Dread crept through Michelle’s body. She hung back, reluctant to go outside. She wondered who had been bitten. Was it a tourist, or Cynthia’s husband, Mike? Or Jacob? As she clutched the doorjamb she searched the crowd looking for a middle-aged yuppie who could be Brooke’s father.
One man caught her attention. He was tall, well over six feet. Cutoff jeans and a tank top revealed well-muscled arms and legs hardened by hours of rowing. His skin was a deep bronze and his raven hair was tied back in a ponytail. Michelle couldn’t see his face clearly in the fading sunlight, but deepening shadows accentuated the angles of his body as he moved through the small crowd still clustered in front of the store. When he turned his head, the light glinted off a tiny gold earring in his left ear.
A modern-day river pirate! Who was he? Probably a tourist. But there was something about him that affected her. She looked away and rubbed her arms to prevent the shudder that threatened to envelope her.
Again, she searched the group for Jacob. Where could he be? she wondered. A loud clomping sound interrupted her thoughts.
Running up the boardwalk, Brooke was yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!”
Michelle stepped outside into the heat at the same time the pirate turned. A big smile lit his handsome face as he picked up the little girl and swung her into - his arms.
Jacob!
