Cool Hand Hank / A Cowboy's Redemption: Cool Hand Hank / A Cowboy's Redemption
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“I do my best. And I know you’re lying, because I’m not allowed to drink.”
“Anything?”
“Anything with alcohol in it.”
“Who said anything about alcohol?” He gave her a challenging look, his eyes growing darker and hooded, his full lips twitching slightly, unwilling to smile. “And who makes the rules?”
“Sensible Sally.” She gave the smile he denied her. “That was her alter ego down at the lake. Shameless Sally.”
“She’s got the right idea. Shame shouldn’t be allowed, either.” He tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “So, what’ll it be?”
She looked at her watch. “Rehearsal in five. Can’t hardly whip up a good batch of trouble in five minutes. Sensible Sally drinks green tea on the rocks with a twist.”
Hank decided to “make that two,” and they left the dining room, glasses in hand, no hurry in their feet. Sally felt a growing reluctance to catch up with the little wedding party in the lodge library. The lakeside setting for the ceremony would be set up tomorrow, so tonight’s indoor rehearsal was literally a dry run. Sally knew her part. She’d seen it played out a hundred ways in movies, read the scene in dozens of books. Sensible Sally stayed in the house a lot. Shameless Sally couldn’t go out to play until the unreliable body caught up with the willing spirit, and now that the two were working in tandem, she would go where the spirit moved her.
“Look!” She pointed to a window, grabbed Hank’s arm and towed him out the front door on to the huge covered porch. A procession of trail riders passed under the yard lights on their way to the pasture below the lodge. “How was the ride?” Sally called out.
“Beautiful!” said one of the helmeted riders. “Made it to the top of Harney Peak.”
“Let’s go up there tomorrow,” Sally said to Hank. “You ride, don’t you? We should.” She turned to the riders. “Where did you get the horses?”
“We brought our own. We’re a club.”
“But there’s a hack stable close by,” said the last rider as she passed under the light. “Ask at the desk.”
Sally looked up at Hank. “We could go really early.” She turned, cupped her hand around her cheek and shouted at the last rider’s back. “How long did it take?”
“All day!”
Sally scowled. “I’ll bet I could take a marker to the programs and change the time. The lake is beautiful this time of day. Night.” She pointed to the white moon hovering above the ponderosa pines. “It’ll be full tomorrow. Imagine Annie in her white gown, and Zach…well, he’s wearing black, but can’t you just see it? Moonlight on the lake?”
“I did, yeah. Beautiful.”
“They don’t need us. They wouldn’t even notice. Look.” She took his hand and led him to the end of the porch, pointed to the tall, bright corner windows that showcased the rehearsal getting under way in the library.
Sally could see Zach’s niece and nephew perusing the bookshelves that flanked the stone fireplace. Zach was having a chat with his brother, Sam. Annie and the minister were poking through a sheaf of papers. “My baby sister’s getting married tomorrow,” she whispered. Hard to believe. The window might have been a movie screen, except that she knew these people—some better than others—and what they were doing was exactly what they’d been talking about for months. It was happening. Sally’s little sister was getting married. “They won’t notice anyone but each other tomorrow.” She squeezed Hank’s hand. “Let’s do it.”
“Do it?”
“Tomorrow. Let’s ride to the top of Harney Peak.”
“Zach’s a good man. They don’t come much better.”
“Oh, I know that.” She drew a deep breath and laughed. “But I love the smell of horse in the morning.”
He laughed with her, and that felt good. Even better when he took control of the hand-holding and led her back into the lodge as though they were in this together, a two-part unit joining a group of two-and-more-part units. She could come to like this man much more than Sensible Sally would normally permit.
The first person they ran into when they entered the library was the wizened cowboy who would be giving Annie away. Hoolie was draped over a pair of crutches near the door, prompting Sally to ask gently whether his ankle was bothering him again, whether he was coming or going.
“Thinkin’ about getting outta the way until they decide what they want me to do. One of them kids tripped and near busted my cast.”
“It was an accident,” the sandy-haired boy called out over the top of the book he’d been reading.
“Man, they can hear good when they want to, can’t they?” the wiry cowboy muttered, glancing at Hank. Then he turned to the boy. “I know you’re sorry, Jim. No hard feelings. I can still hobble.”
“Hank, this is Henry Hoolihan, our foreman.”
“Hoolie.” He offered Hank his hand. “Nobody’s called me Henry since I was Jim’s age. Who dug that up?”
“I don’t know, but it’s on the program,” Sally said. “Jim and Star are Zach’s brother’s kids. Say hello to Hank Night Horse, Zach’s doctor.”
The children sang out as instructed, but Hoolie said, “Doctor?”
Hank glanced at Hoolie’s cast. “I work the rodeo circuit as a physician’s assistant. Zach’s been a pretty steady customer the last few seasons.” As one, the three turned their attention to the couple attending to wedding business on the far side of the room. “He’s a good hand.”
“Was,” Sally said. “He says he’s retiring.”
“The body can only take so much,” Hank said. “Some guys don’t know when to quit. I’m glad Zach’s not one of those guys.” He looked at Sally. “He’s still a good hand.”
“We love Zach,” Sally said with a smile. “Don’t we, Hoolie? I’m being summoned. Let’s get this over with so we can eat. And then on to the fun stuff.” She touched Hank’s sleeve. “Keep your program handy. We had one dull moment scheduled in, but then you came along and buffed it up, thank you very much.”
“The pleasure was mine.” He eyed her hand and then raised his dark gaze to her eyes as he leaned close to her ear. “Seein’ as how the buff was yours.”
Sally’s neck tingled. An icy-hot shiver blew apart and streaked gloriously throughout her body. She stood still, waiting for the feel of another warm, magic breath.
“Sally, we need you!”
She let her hand slide to the edge of Hank’s cuff where she could feel his working-man’s skin. “Hold that thought,” she said.
At dinner, Sally did her maid-of-honor duty by making the rounds among family and friends. Sally and Ann had lived on the Drexler ranch in South Dakota all their lives. But the family had been reduced to the two of them, along with Hoolie, who had come to work for their father before they were born, outlived him, and earned the privilege of giving the bride away. And now they had Zach, who brought his mother, Hilda, and brother, Sam, to the Drexler fold—hardly big enough to fold—along with Sam’s new wife, Maggie, and their two children. But the Beaudrys made their home in Montana, and Zach had become a rolling stone until he’d rolled to a stop at the Double D. The wedding was Zach’s reunion with the Beaudrys as well as his formal initiation into the Drexler clan. The Beaudrys couldn’t contain their joy, and why try?
Duty done in the middle of the circle, Sally moved to the edge, where Hank had laid claim to the observer’s station, a post she had come to know all too well in recent years. She had made her peace with it, while Hank seemed quite comfortable there. Maybe he could teach her something. He’d moved from the table where they’d shared dinner with Hoolie and Hilda to a corner conversation area near the bar. When he saw her coming, he moved again, from a big leather chair to a love seat. She was invited.
“They’re all going on a moonlight hayride,” she reported as she sat down. “I’m supposed to fetch you.”
He smiled. “Good luck.”
“Ready for another dull moment?”
“Looking forward to it.” He lifted his arm over her head and laid it along the back of the love seat. “You?”
“I don’t feel like changing clothes. When I take these off, that’ll be it for the night.”
“Big day tomorrow.”
“Big day.” She laid her head back and let it rest against his arm. “They’re good people, aren’t they? Why would Zach stay away from home so long?”
“Wouldn’t know.”
“But you know him well enough to vouch for his character.”
“Yep.” He shifted a little closer. “Tell me more about your mustang sanctuary. How do you support it?”
“We get some support from federal programs. Before my dad died, the Double D was one of the biggest cattle ranches in the state, and we still have a small cow-calf operation. We’re also permitted to sell some of the colts off the wild mares.”
“Is there much of a market these days?”
“They sell pretty well if they’re at least green broke. Even better if they’re broke to ride. But the market fluctuates with the rest of the economy, and right now it’s tough. I have a plan, but I put it on hold for the wedding.”
“Is that why they’re holding off on the honeymoon?”
“Oh, no.” She turned her head to give him a warning glance. “They don’t know I have anew plan in the works. They’re trying to put the honeymoon on hold because they don’t want to leave me—” she raised her brow and gave a suggestive little smile “—to my own devices.”
“Sounds like you have a reputation.”
“I did, but I haven’t been keeping up. A reputation is something you have to tend, just like a garden.” She made growing, blooming, stepping-out gestures. “You want it to get big enough to precede you.”
“Except when you get caught with your pants down.”
“Depends on your perspective.” She turned up the tease in her smile. “I can’t speak for yours, but from mine, sooner or later you’ll get my attention. It’s better if you’re not a sooner. Laters are generally slower and longer.”
He shook his head, rewarding her with a slow smile. “You’re a little smart-ass.”
“Ah, but I grow on you.”
“We’ll see.” But he crossed his near leg over the far one before she had a chance. “You can’t hire somebody to help out while they’re honeymooning?”
“Are you looking for a job?”
“I have two jobs,” he reminded her. “I’m a farrier and a physician’s assistant. My services are in high demand on the rodeo circuit.”
“They’d be pretty handy around the Double D, too. If we had someone like you on staff, Zach and Annie would leave tomorrow. The day after at the latest.”
“How big…how many on your staff?”
“Four, counting Hoolie. We get volunteers to work with some of the horses, but a lot of them are kids. Mostly from the reservation. Annie teaches at the high school.”
“How long did they plan to be gone?”
“About three weeks. But then Hoolie got tangled up in some barbed wire and broke his ankle.” She sat up and took new interest. “You wouldn’t have to stay around the whole time. Seriously. You could be on call.”
“That’s why I’m not on any kind of staff. Been there, done that, found out I don’t much like being on call. You work a rodeo, you’re there for the weekend. The pay’s good, and you get to have a life.”
“Doing what? You have a family?” She hadn’t missed something, had she?
“I used to be married. Had a son. He died.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too. But I got my life back, and I’m not short on things to do.”
“Neither am I. It’s time that’s the kicker, isn’t it?”
“I probably don’t think of time the same way you do.”
No kidding. “Not very many people do.”
“A day is a day. You fill it with how you feel.”
“That’s interesting. I couldn’t've said it better. Right now, tonight…” She stretched her arms straight and strong, crooning a saucy, “I feeeel good.” She slid him a glance. “Hey, you’re smiling.”
“You’re growin’ on me.”
Chapter Two
“oh, Annie.”
Sally’s sister turned from the mirror, eyes shining like stars. Her golden hair was swept up from the sides and anchored by a pearl-encrusted comb and a cascading veil. The off-the-shoulder neckline and body-skimming lines of her elegant ivory dress were simple and stunning and perfectly suited to the woman who stood there, eclipsing all the dreams the two sisters had conjured over the years.
The photographer quietly snapped pictures, allowing the moment to unfold. Sally was dumbfounded. How many times had they gotten dressed together, given each other a last-minute review? Sally had helped Annie choose each piece of her wedding ensemble, had overseen the fittings and giggled with her over their memories of dresses and dates, new measurements and old tastes, the never-ending Double D “chest jest”—a size Annie had at one time nearly reached—and the ever-after girlish dreams. And now all the pieces had come together, adding up to a vision that came as no real surprise to Sally even as it brought rare tears to her eyes. This was it. Annie was the fairytale bride.
Blinking furiously, Sally handed over the bouquet of white calla lilies, drew a deep breath and blew a wobbly whistle. “Whoa. Wow. Okay, Hoolie thinks he can get by without crutches, but I know what it’s like to fall on your face in front of an audience, so I think we should put my cane in his hand right when the music starts.”
“It’s not a long walk. A few steps. I’m almost there, Sally.” Annie grabbed Sally’s hand, and the camera hummed. “Why am I shaking like this?”
“They’re big steps.” Baby sister was taking big steps, and Sally was the only Drexler left to hold her hand.
She wanted to hug her, hold her a little longer, but she made do with squeezing her hand rather than making smudges or wrinkles or tears. Annie wasn’t leaving, but life would be different after today.
“I wonder if he’s nervous. Do you think he’s shaking like this?” Annie laughed and shook her head. “Probably not. He’s a cowboy. He rides… used to ride bulls for a living. What’s a little—” she turned for another glance in the mirror, complete with bouquet, and smiled “—wedding?”
“There’s no such thing as a little wedding,” Sally said, speaking from her all-too-frequent experience as a captive TV watcher. “By the numbers, this one is little. But it’s big by my calculations.”
“I know. It’s all Sam’s fault.”
“I’m not calculating in dollars. Zach’s brother’s money definitely falls into the easy-come-easy-go category, and since there’s so much of it, why not enjoy the frills? I’m talking about big, as in big as life. This is your wedding, and it means the world to me.”
Sally touched the simple strand of pearls around her sister’s neck. They had belonged to their mother, whom Sally saw so unmistakably in Annie’s big, soft eyes and bow-shaped mouth and dainty chin. Sally looked more like their father, but she was the one who clearly remembered Mom. Sally was the keeper of Drexler memories.
“I’ll be kinda glad when it’s all…” Annie gave her head a quick toss. “No, I’m glad now. I’m ready. I feel beautiful. And you look beautiful, Sally.” Annie turned her sister so that the mirror made a framed portrait unlike any they’d taken together before. They’d been big and lively, little and sweet. One primary, one pastel. One ready to go first, the other pleased to follow.
“I love you so much,” Annie whispered, and Sally had no doubt. But Annie was the one once meant to wait while Sally went ahead. And it wasn’t that Sally was resentful of the reversal—she really did look good in her chic, fluid blue waterfall of a dress, Annie’s gift of opals around her neck and studding her ears, fragrant gardenias in her hair—but she was unsure of her footing. Annie was taking a big step.
Where did that leave Sally?
“Me, too, you,” she said as she squeezed that ever-dependable hand again. “Lest we spoil the makeup, consider yourself kissed.”
“You know you’re not losing a sister, don’t you? You’re gaining a brother. And we’re not going anywhere. We’re partners, and we’re family, and we’re going to—”
“—be late for your wedding. Listen. I am fine.” She enunciated each word forcefully, willing her sister to make sense of three simple words and move on. “Look at me. No cane, no pain.” Enjoy this with me while it lasts. She needlessly fluffed Annie’s veil. “This is your day, honey. Take a deep breath. Your man is out there waiting and, yes, probably feeling just the way you are. When you take each other’s hands…” Sally smiled, blinking furiously because she would not cry. “Tell me what it’s like, okay? That moment.”
Annie nodded as she pulled her hand free, placed a finger lightly at the outside corner of Sally’s eye, caught a single tear and touched it to her lips.
Granite spires bound the crystalline-blue lake on the far side, the perfect backdrop for a hand-woven red willow arch decked out with a profusion of flowers. Guests were seated in white folding chairs. Zach’s niece led the way, tossing handfuls of white rose petals on a path of fresh green pine needles. Sally followed, taking measured steps in time with the string quartet’s elegant processional. Looking as handsome and relaxed in his black tux as he did in well-worn jeans, Zach waited for his bride. His brother, Sam—a little taller, a little darker, a little less at ease—stood like a sentry overseeing his charges. Daughter, son, wife, mother, brother—Sam’s eyes attended to each one. He was clearly the Beaudry caretaker. Funny, Sally thought. That’s Annie, not me.
Before she’d been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, Sally had been the seeker, the doer, the risk taker. She’d cared passionately, but she’d never taken care. That was Annie’s role. Careful, care-giving, selfless Annie.
Sally paused before the minister and looked the groom in the eye. Be good to her, Zach. Be the man she deserves. She pivoted and took her place, knowing she’d made her point. She felt Annie step up to fill the space she and Zach had left for her, but she couldn’t quite turn to watch Hoolie place her sister’s hand in Zach’s. It was enough to see the movement from the corner of her eye, where Annie had touched her for a tear.
It was happening. Annie was interlacing her life with someone new, becoming someone else’s next of kin. Sally clutched two handfuls of flowers and listened to identical promises exchanged in voices that complemented each other in a way she hadn’t heard before. It was a pure sound and a simple truth. Annie and Zach belonged together.
And they stood together, hand in hand, while Hank played an acoustic guitar and sang “Cowboy, Take Her Away” in a deep, resonant voice that was made for a love song. He’d said his gift was his song, and he sang to the couple as though no one else was there and every note, every word had been written just for them. Sally was enchanted. Her beautiful sister, her new brother, the music and the man who made it—she wanted to suck it all in and keep it alive within her in a way that the video camera could never do.
At the end of the song, Hank said, “Kiss her, Zach.” And he did, cheered on by friends and family, who showered them with white rose petals as they retreated down the path. The guests followed, and the violinists made merry music at the back of the line as it wended its way up a gentle slope between stands of tall pines. When they reached the lodge’s gravel driveway, Zach swept his bride up in his arms and carried her across the path and up the steps to the front porch, where he set her down and kissed her again. Women sighed. Men whooped. Cowboy hats sailed skyward.
Annie and Zach were hitched.
“You’re a lucky man.” Sally raised her glass of sparkling water in toast.
“Yeah, I know.” Sam put his arm around his new wife, Maggie. “I hit the jackpot.”
Maggie looked up at him. “You did?”
“Trusted you and got myself a whole family.”
“I think Sally’s talking about winning the lottery,” Maggie said. “It’s crazy. Real people don’t win the lottery.”
“Well, it was complicated,” Sam said. “It was Star’s mother’s ticket—our daughter, Star—but she died before she could claim it. In fact, we thought the damn thing was lost in a car accident, but it turned up, kinda like…” He waved his hand as though words failed.
“Miraculously,” Maggie supplied.
“To put it mildly,” Sam said. “It’s been a year, but it still doesn’t seem real. We’re trying to manage it sensibly. You don’t want to go crazy. You want to put some of it to good use now, give some away, make sure there’s plenty left for the kids. I’ve never known any rich people, never thought I’d like them much.”
“He won’t give up his job,” Maggie said.
Sam laughed. “She won’t, either.”
“I’m part-time now, but our little clinic needs nurses, and I’m a good one. We just moved into a house we built on Sam’s land. It’s a gorgeous spot.” Maggie made a sweeping gesture. “Kind of like this, but the lake is smaller and the mountains are bigger. You have to come for a visit.”
“Where’s Hank?” Sam asked, searching over the heads of the guests. “Man, that guy can sing. He about killed my brother with that song.” He grinned at Zach. “He didn’t leave yet, did he?”
Did he?
Sally hugged her new brother-in-law. “Where’s Hank?”
“I’ll tell you a little secret about ol’ Hank. He don’t like compliments. He does his thing, and then he disappears for a while. He sang at a funeral once—bull rider, wrecked his pickup. Hank tore everybody up singin’ over that kid. And then he disappeared. I found him playin’ fetch with Phoebe.” Zach glanced over the balcony railing. “He’s around.”
“Hey, cowboy.” Annie joined the group, entwining her arm with her new husband’s and beaming up at him as though he’d just hung the moon. “Take me away.”
A skyward glance assured Sally that the moon wasn’t up yet. The sun had slipped behind the trees, but there was still plenty of light for searching the grounds. She didn’t have to go far. She found Phoebe first. The dog greeted her with a friendly bark, and the man followed, emerging from a stand of pines near a picnic table. He carried his jacket slung over his shoulder, white shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, black hat tipped low on his forehead.
Sally scratched Phoebe behind the ears and caught a little drool in the process. Hank tapped his thigh, and the dog heeled. With a hand signal, he had her sitting.
“Impressive,” Sally said.
“She’s willing to humor me because you’re not as appealing as you were last night. If you were splashing around in the lake she’d be all over you.”
“And you?”
“The only part that didn’t appeal to me last night was the water.”
“You were wonderful,” she said, and he questioned her with a look. “Today. Your music. You play beautifully, and you sing like—”
“Thanks.” He swung his jacket down from his shoulder. “It’s a good song.”
“It’s a lovely song. Perfect. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”
“Aw, c’mon. You gotta love those Dixie Chicks. I had to change a couple of words to make it work.”
“You made it yours. Theirs. Annie’s and Zach’s. That’ll be their song now.” Feeling a sudden chill, she hugged herself and rubbed her bare upper arms. “What a gift, Hank. That’s something they’ll take with them throughout their journey together. Their song.”
“You’re layin’ it on a little thick, there, Sally,” he teased as he laid his jacket over her shoulders.
“Never. I’m no gusher. If anything, that was an understatement. My little sister just got married, Hank. If I could sing, I’d be…” She adjusted the jacket and began to sway. “You know what? I can dance.” She did a tiny two-step, added a slow twirl, and then a more enthusiastic two-step and a spin. “I can dance. I can…“
She lost the twinkle in her toes, stumbled, and landed in a hoop made of two strong arms.
“Oops. I tend to be a little clumsy when I get excited. All I need is a strong partner.” She copped a feel of his working-man’s biceps as she steadied herself and eased up on him, catching a knowing look beneath the brim of his hat. He thought it a pratfall.