Locking Horns

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The Cowboy and the Lady It was one of those West Virginia days in late April that turn hot and sticky without warning. What should have been a cool spring morning had become a mid-July scorcher. Sweat poured off Buddy Beckett and mingled with dirt, while he wrestled with a Longhorn calf. He ate dust when the miserable creature rolled him to the ground. Hoots and catcalls rang through the air. The men atop the fence alternately encouraged him and laughed at him, as the determined calf repeatedly made a fool of him. “What’s the matter, boss? That little dawgie gonna kick your ass.” A round of laughter went up, then a shout. The calf kicked loose. Buddy chased it, tackled it and brought it to the ground again. “Damn, you little bastard.” He wrenched the calf’s neck around and finally got the best of it. He lay on the ground with the animal, his lungs burning as he sucked in hot, dirty air. He didn’t dare wipe the sweat from his eyes. He’d tried that once already and the calf had kicked him a good one in the shin. Opening one eye, Buddy saw more than dirt and fence rails. In front of him was a pair of girly shoes complete with ten red-nailed toes peaking out the front. Bare, tanned ankles caught his attention. Just then the calf got a second wind, whipped its head around and sent him rolling. The commentary from the guys on the fence rail had nothing to do with the calf, and everything to do with the owner of those remarkable toes. Buddy muttered a curse under his breath. Why did women show up when he looked and smelled like shit?

"If you enjoy funny, sweet, and sexy modern romance, you'll love Locking Horns by Marilyn Trent!" USA Today Bestselling Author ~Susan Donovan Move over Susan Elizabeth Phillips. Marilyn Trent scores a super 10 in her debut romantic comedy Locking Horns. Lexi Cunningham and Buddy Beckett certainly do lock horns, always have; but two angels-in-residence and a delightful little calf are determined that those horns are intertwined—and right quick. What they do to get this mis-matched couple together is a page-turning romp of pure delight. If you have room in your suitcase for one special romantic comedy this summer, make it this one. ~Barbara Cummings, award-winning author of A Killing on Church Grounds and Fortune's Fire. “Harlan Rides Again is laugh out loud funny. Sassy and fun with plenty of sizzle” ~Maggie Toussaint, author of House of Lies

Locking Horns by M. K. Trent

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Locking Horns COPYRIGHT © 2007 by Marilyn K. Trent All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information: [email protected] Cover Art by Angela Anderson The Wild Rose Press PO Box 708 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706 Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History Champagne Rose Edition, August 2007 Print ISBN 1-60154-127-9 Published in the United States of America

This is dedicated to my Mom and Dad who gave me wings to fly, and to all my family and friends—you are the wind beneath my wings.

Thanks to my wonderful critique partners over the years: Maggie Toussaint, Susan Donovan, Barbara Cummings, Gail Barrett, Judy Fadely, Susan Dudics-Dean, Rebecca McTavish, and Karen Lee. They gave me the best advice of all–believe in myself. Kudos to all those wonderful people in Washington Romance Writers who gave me writing lessons over the years. Thanks to Robin Simpson who’s family owns the Longhorn cattle ranch in Charles Town, West Virginia that sparked this story. I heard so many zany stories over lunch about her beloved Longhorns I just had to write about them. I also want to acknowledge Chip Lanham for his insightful information on Bobcats. And finally, thanks to Claudia Stranacher who believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. LOVE to you all!

Chapter 1 The Cowboy and the Lady It was one of those West Virginia days in late April that turn hot and sticky without warning. What should have been a cool spring morning had become a mid-July scorcher. Sweat poured off Buddy Beckett and mingled with dirt, while he wrestled with a Longhorn calf. He ate dust when the miserable creature rolled him to the ground. Hoots and catcalls rang through the air. The men atop the fence alternately encouraged him and laughed at him, as the determined calf repeatedly made a fool of him. “What’s the matter, boss? That little dawgie gonna kick your ass.” A round of laughter went up, then a shout. The calf kicked loose. Buddy chased it, tackled it and brought it to the ground again. “Damn, you little bastard.” He wrenched the calf’s neck around and finally got the best of it. He lay on the ground with the animal, his lungs burning as he sucked in hot, dirty air. He didn’t dare wipe the sweat from his eyes. He’d tried that once already and the calf had kicked him a good one in the shin. Opening one eye, Buddy saw more than dirt and fence rails. In front of him was a pair of girly shoes complete with ten red-nailed toes peaking out the front. Bare, tanned ankles caught his attention. Just then the calf got a second wind, whipped its head around and sent him rolling. The commentary from the guys on the fence rail had nothing to do with the calf, and everything to do with the owner of those remarkable toes. Buddy muttered a curse under his breath. Why did women show up when he looked and smelled like shit? Alexis Cunningham stood at the fence, grimacing at the dirty cowboy lying on his back sweating like a pig and smelling like one too. She wrinkled her nose at him, tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and forced a 1

M. K. Trent smile at the men hanging their butts over the fence rails. “One of you Harlan Beckett?” she asked, giving Harlan a little extra Southern accent. She was from the south—South Baltimore. But men always turned into eager puppies at the sound of a feminine Southern drawl. The man on the ground waved his hand at her. “I reckon that’s me,” he said. Great. She hoped he wouldn’t want to shake her hand. The last thing she needed was cow dirt and man sweat ruining her manicure. He sat up, perusing her with one squinting blue eye. One of the fence-riders tossed a dusty black hat at Harlan Beckett. He caught it, pulled himself to his feet as if he were ninety and whacked the hat against his thigh, which sent a cloud of dust rolling her direction. She waved her hand in front of her face, frowned at him and moved aside. Beckett turned and spit onto the ground, as if to clear his mouth of a mountain of dirt. She wrinkled her nose again and narrowed her eyes, targeting the man’s tight butt cheeks outlined by snug leather chaps. He wasn’t overly tall, this Harlan Beckett. Maybe five ten. His hair might have been blond or brown. She wasn’t sure, as filthy as it was with grime and sweat. And God knows what else, considering he was wallowing with cows just a minute ago. “Looks like the cow won,” she said, a wealth of sarcasm in her voice. “For now,” Beckett replied, turning around. “Shouldn’t big ol’ you be able to wrestle little ol’ him to the ground?” she asked. “Don’t matter how big or little they are, ma’am. When they’re fighting for their balls, they fight pretty hard.” He stopped and stared at her. It was right then she realized Harlan Beckett was really Buddy Beckett—the smart-assed, cocky kid who’d asked her out in high school. The one she’d told to kiss-off. She wouldn’t go out with him if he was the last boy on earth. Unfortunately, those were the same words she’d said years ago to geeky Edmund Ruckenbeak, who just happened to be the judge sitting the bench the morning of her court appearance for speeding. If she’d had any sense, 2

Locking Horns she would have paid the fine and lost her license to drive for six months. Instead, she was here at the mercy of Buddy Beckett. What else could go wrong? One hundred hours of payback. Penance for all the stupid things she’d done to date. “Well, I’ll be,” he said. “Lexi Cunningham! Eddie said he had an interesting case he was sending out for community service.” She was sure he was laughing at her, this smartassed boy turned smart-assed man. “Welcome to the community.” He waved a hand at the men still sitting on the fence gawking and the bawling calves huddled in the chute behind the pen. “Did you bring something to change into?” Without moving anything more than his eyes, he raked her from head to toe, just as he’d done in high school. If she’d had less self-confidence, she might have tugged her tube top up over her cleavage and her miniskirt down over her butt. Instead, she tossed her head arrogantly. “I think I’ll change into The Goodbye Girl. Goodbye.” She took a step backward. Lexi didn’t see the scraggly black dog that had wandered up. She tripped over it and went sprawling on her butt. Immediately, the dog’s nose went up her skirt— wet, cold and slobbery. She screamed and slammed her legs together with viselike force, eliciting a yowl from the dog as it scrambled away. It gave her a wide berth and huddled beside Beckett. Before she knew it, she was surrounded by twelve hot, dirty men all offering to help her up. Buddy Beckett was hanging out at the fence, his face a combination of laugh lines, dimples, and twinkling blue eyes. So much for having the upper hand in this whole affair. It seemed the tables had turned since high school. The way those cool, blue eyes stared made her wish she’d tried Buddy Beckett on for size thirteen years ago. Buddy couldn’t believe Alexis Cunningham, the most arrogant, unapproachable girl in his Charles Town, West Virginia high school, was seated on her delectable ass in the dirt of his cattle yard. He also couldn’t help the 3

M. K. Trent laughter that bubbled up inside him. Lexi ignored the outstretched hands of his friends. “I can get up myself,” she snipped. Unfortunately, Lyle Johnson—Beaver to everybody for his eighteen-year-old eager-beaver attitude—was already behind her, lifting her to her feet by her armpits. When Lexi gave him an elbow, he backed away, leaving two perfect dirty handprints on the exquisitely white tube top—right over her boobs. She didn’t notice, just stood there glaring and dusting her butt. Buddy had to turn away. He choked back the hoot that almost escaped before turning back. But he wasn’t able to stop the corners of his mouth from curling upward. Through clenched teeth, Lexi muttered, “I ought to sue your ass, Buddy Beckett. What if I’d been hurt?” “You want to take that case to Eddie, too?” he asked, grinning. “You’re all a bunch of West Virginia good old boys.” she hollered. “You’re all in cahoots.” One of the hands interrupted. “Excuse me, but what do you want do with that calf, Buddy?” Buddy turned his attention back to the calf that had somehow managed to break away earlier and now stared coolly at him from the corner of the pen. It reminded him of himself, years ago-—bold, defiant, full of himself. He waved his hand toward it. “He put up a good fight. Has a lot of spunk. Might make a good breeding bull. Let him go.” “Sure thing, boss.” Buddy looked back at Lexi. He wished those two handprints were his. Damn, but the girl had turned into one fine-looking woman. Her hair was short and perky now, framing her heart-shaped face, accenting expressive brown eyes and pouty lips. That old want he hadn’t thought of in years, boiled back up as big and bold as it had been when he’d drug it around with him in high school. He’d wanted Lexi Cunningham then and still did. Lexi glanced at her watch. The home care nurse would be leaving soon. She had to get back to her father’s place. She couldn’t leave him alone yet. He still couldn’t do much for himself. This visit home was taking a lot 4

Locking Horns longer than she’d planned. And now, it had taken a pretty weird turn. After all, who would have thought she’d ever work for Buddy Beckett? And for free at that. “Look, I’ve wasted enough time today. What is it I’m supposed to be doing here for the next millennium, your bookkeeping or something?” Buddy looked mildly disappointed. “Don’t tell me you’re a damned accountant, Lexi. All these years, I thought you’d be a movie star or at least a Playboy Bunny.” Chuckles from the men. She scowled at them, a look she’d perfected the day she met Buddy Beckett. Mimicking his tone, she said, “I’m not a damned accountant, but I can add two and two.” Which is more than you could in high school—you flunked math. She didn’t say it. She didn’t have to. It was common knowledge he’d spent more time in detention than math class. Buddy Beckett scowled back at her. “I had something else in mind, Ms. Cunningham.” He looked at the calves still bawling and crowding each other in the chute. “Wanna brand my cattle?” “Rather castrate them, Mr. Beckett.” He looked pointedly at her. “Gotta catch ‘em first.” Oh, she’d like to catch him first. Maybe play with him a little—tease him, taunt him, truss him up like a rodeo calf. And cut off his damned balls! Maybe. Buddy frowned. “You’re a hard woman, Lexi Cunningham.” He jammed his hat on his head and slid between the fence rails. Motioning for Lexi to follow him, he said, “Come on into the office and we can set up a schedule.” Lexi expected to be led to the old white clapboard farmhouse. Instead, Beckett headed around the corner and disappeared inside the barn. She followed him into the barn, hesitating at the door to let her eyes grow accustomed to the dim interior. The old place wasn’t even remotely similar to her father’s immaculate barns. The smell of dust, hay, and animal waste permeated the air. In her father’s barns, the 5

M. K. Trent odors were more refined—sweet feed, leather, and liniment mixed with the earthy scents of hay and horses. Buddy’s voice came from somewhere to the left. “You lost?” “Following the cow turds,” she answered. Lexi walked down the row of stalls and found the open office door at the end of the aisle. Buddy sat on the edge of the desk, perusing a calendar. “You want to get it done in a couple of weeks or stretch it out all summer?” he asked. “I’ve only got a few hours a day. I have a life, after all.” “Ahhh. The all summer option.” He peered around the calendar, his eyes on her boobs. Chuckling, he turned back to the calendar. “Mornings or afternoons?” “Mornings are better.” “How many hours a day?” “Maybe three?” “How many days a week?” Lexi’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll have to let you know. It all depends on my father. He’s ill and I have to make sure someone is with him while I’m gone.” Buddy’s grin faded. “Sorry to hear about your daddy. Hope he’ll be okay.” “Yeah. Thanks.” Lexi hoped he’d be okay too. It was just the two of them. The resentment she’d felt all those years ago about being uprooted had long since faded. She wanted her father to live to be a hundred and enjoy his horses and grandchildren, if she ever had any for him. Not so her mother. Fed up with Raymond Cunningham’s dream, she’d deserted them three years ago for Aruba and a man closer to Lexi’s age than her own. Buddy interrupted her thoughts. “Give me a call and let me know when to expect you.” He handed her a business card. "Harlan J. Beckett Longhorns. Here’s the Beef. TLHA Registered Longhorn Cattle," she read. There was a picture of a soulful looking cow with—of course—long horns. And phone numbers. Who’d have thought she’d ever have Buddy Beckett’s phone number? 6

Locking Horns Lexi stuck the card in her purse. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call.” Outside, the sun was hot. But not as hot as the office where she’d just been. Was it the small, closed-in space or Buddy Beckett that made her sweat? What a damned disconcerting thought: Buddy Beckett with sex appeal. Still muttering to herself, Lexi headed to her car. There was no way she wanted to spend one hundred hours doing shit jobs for Buddy. But there was probably no way out of it, either. Edmund Ruckenbeak obviously hadn’t forgiven her for being such a snot in high school. Any effort to convince him to spare her would probably be construed as attempted bribery. She shuddered. Edmund Ruckenbeak was still Geeky-Beak to her. No amount of years would change that. His gangly frame and over-large nose, not to mention his propensity for doing geeky things like organizing a Latin Club and carrying math and chemistry reference books around with him, had given rise to the name. It looked like he hadn’t changed much. He’d replaced the science reference books for law reference books, but he was still gangly and beak-nosed. As she approached her car, Lexi noticed her reflection in the side-view mirror. Right there on her white tube top were two grungy handprints—on her boobs. No wonder Beckett and his cohorts had been snickering at her. No wonder his eyes kept wandering to her boobs. That weasel of a kid felt her up right in front of them all. Lexi decided to go back to the barn and give Buddy a piece of her mind. But when she turned, there he was leering at her from the doorway. She spun back, climbed in her BMW, cranked the engine, and floored it. The tires spun gratifyingly in the barnyard dirt. Buddy Beckett could eat her dust.

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Chapter 2 Life Ain’t Simple Buddy craned his neck to watch Lexi Cunningham leave the barn. She still had a fine ass—tight, round, and mouthwatering. And nice boobs and pretty hair—not quite brown but definitely not red. Her eyes were what always caught him off-guard. Deep and brown and sometimes he caught a glimpse of sadness there. He loved her sassy mouth the most. That same mouth had told him in no uncertain terms to fuck off when he’d had the guts to ask her out. Not in so many words, mind you. But a guy like him knew exactly what she’d meant. Dropping the calendar on the desk, Buddy ambled over to the barn door just in time to see Lexi wheel around and shoot daggers at him with those beautiful brown eyes. No doubt, she’d noticed Beaver’s handprints on her chest. Buddy grinned and waved at her, watching as she fishtailed out of his yard, throwing dirt and rocks all the way up the drive. She still had the fiery attitude he’d loved in high school. And the great body. She seemed just as unapproachable as she had thirteen years ago when she’d broken his heart with a glare and a couple cruel words. But the tables were turned now, and Buddy had a prime opportunity staring him in the face. He grinned. Who was he to turn down a challenge? Bringing Lexi Cunningham to her knees wouldn’t be easy. That made the task all the more provocative, and the eventual victory all the sweeter. Buddy’s grin faded as the dust from Lexi’s sporty little car drifted away across the pasture. For a moment, he was seventeen again and Lexi was telling him he wasn’t good enough to lick the dirt from her shoes. Funny though, he didn’t feel the anger and shame he had that 8

Locking Horns day.

Today, he was a different person from the boy who had flipped her the bird and told her what she could do to herself. Today, he was a successful businessman with seventy-five acres of land and fifty head of the best Longhorn cattle east of the Mississippi. Today, he was just as good as the girl whose father owned Charlemane Thoroughbreds. It was high time Alexis Cunningham realized it, too. **** Lexi was still irritated when she turned up the long driveway leading to the main house at Charlemane Thoroughbreds Farm. What had started out as a morning jaunt to sweet-talk some old geezer into letting her do some simple, mindless task had turned into Nightmare on Beckett Street. Who would have thought Buddy Beckett would ever own a ranch? Or be friends with Geeky-Beak, for God’s sake? She really hadn’t given Buddy much thought in high school. If she had, she would have guessed he’d end up in jail. Or he might pull himself out of the gutter and into a decent blue-collar job like construction laborer. He had the biceps for it—thick and hard. Thick and hard. She didn’t want to go there. Biceps no longer came to mind when she put those two words together. She absolutely wouldn’t allow herself to think of Buddy Beckett in any sort of carnal way. He was just a guy she was forced to give one hundred hours to. And then, she’d be out of there. She’d be out of Charles Town soon enough anyway. Her father’s stroke wouldn’t be permanently debilitating. With therapy, the doctors were sure he’d make a good recovery. Once he was able to care for himself again, she’d go back to Baltimore and her life. The life she’d built for herself. The one she thought would bring her happiness. The one full of excitement, important people, and absolutely no personal fulfillment. Exclusive trainer to women like the governor’s wife didn’t give her the satisfaction she once thought it would. Neither did the expensive apartment in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, her six-digit income, or her friends more concerned about the things in their lives than the quality 9

M. K. Trent of their lives. Buddy Beckett leaning on his fence rail, all male muscle and attitude, popped into her mind. He seemed to fit where he was. His life was just where he wanted it to be. Maybe that’s what still had her on edge around him. The pig-farmer’s son had found his niche and she, the have-it-all bitch, was still looking for hers. Lexi parked the car in the garage. It looked compact and sassy next to her father’s elegant Lincoln Town Car. Just like her. Compact and sassy next to her father’s aristocratic six-foot frame. Her mouth pulled into a thin line as she thought about her father, who used to be a rock of a man, now sitting slumped in a wheelchair. When she rounded the corner of the house, she saw Maria Arnold, the home care nurse, wheel her father onto the wide porch of the huge old house. She tucked away the sadness she felt and put on a smile. “Hi, Dad. Did Maria kick your butt this morning?” she called and winked at Maria. Raymond Cunningham slowly raised his left hand and waved away her comment with a weak flick of his wrist. “Unh!” Lexi looked at Maria. “That means shit.” She looked back at her father. “Maria should kick your butt for cussing like that.” She bounded up the steps and gave her father a hug and a peck on his newly-shaven face. Maria broke in. “Ray did really well this morning. I think the doctor’s going to be impressed with his progress.” Lexi stood with a teasing hand on her hip. “Well, I’ll be impressed when he beats me at checkers. I’ve gotten really good the last few years and he won’t even play me. I think he’s afraid he’ll lose.” Ray’s face lifted slightly as he attempted a smile. “Beat me...no...no way.” Lexi’s hand landed gently on his shoulder. “Man, I can’t get one little word in, you’re talkin’ so much. Let me bend Maria’s ear now.” She kissed her father again and motioned for Maria to follow her inside. “Be right back, Dad. You sit here and watch the horses in the field for a few minutes. I think Sampson has the hots for Petra. You 10

Locking Horns just might get an eyeful.” Inside, Lexi collapsed into a kitchen chair. It was hard to be cheerful with her father when what she really wanted to do was curl up and cry. “So, how did he really do?” she asked Maria. “Not bad. Stubborn. He tried to do too much and got discouraged. It’s a slow road and he’s got to realize it’s not going to happen over night.” “Yeah, I know. I’ll be here when the physical therapist comes over. I’d like to learn the exercises, so I can help. There’s no point paying somebody every day when I can do most of it.” “You’re already stretched thin, Alexis. Your father has the money to pay for all this care, including specialized treatment. You should let him.” Lexi got up and peeked out the window at her father. “Truth is, Maria, I want to do this myself. I owe Dad a lot. It’s the least I can do for him.” Maria patted Lexi on the shoulder. “I’m glad Ray has a daughter like you. So, how did your meeting go?” Lexi slumped back in the chair. “Don’t ask.” “That bad, huh?” “Worse. Harlan Beckett—you know who he is?” “He owns that pig farm on the south side of town. The one they’ve had all the complaints about because of the smell.” “No. It’s the other Harlan Beckett. Buddy Beckett, the kid. Well, he’s not a kid anymore. He owns a cattle ranch out on Marlow Road. That’s who I have to work for. One hundred hours with a smart-mouthed, crazy man with the disposition of a mule with a corncob up his butt.” True, she’d been a major contributor to sticking that corncob where the sun didn’t shine. But a more mature man would already have excised the corncob and gotten on with life. Buddy didn’t seem interested in forgiving or forgetting. “Good luck. If he’s anything like his old man, a couple of hours might seem like a lifetime.” Maria picked up her purse. “Oh, by the way, I took a message from a Mrs. Erikson. She said she wants you to come up and help her out. Says 'Carrie just plain sucks,' whatever that means.” Rolling her eyes, Lexi grinned. “My best friend, 11

M. K. Trent Carrie, took over some of my clients while I’m gone. Mrs. Erikson has nothing better to do than tighten her gluteus maximus and complain. I’ll call her back. Thanks.” She paused, then asked, “Maria?” Maria stopped gathering her things and turned toward Lexi. “I have to go over to the Beckett place quite a bit to get this finished. Can you squeeze Dad in for a few more hours a week? Say, Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings for four hours a day? I’ve really got to get this over and behind me.” “I’ll check my schedule, but I think I can do it. I really enjoy your father’s company. I can rattle on about anything and he can’t tell me to shut up.” Maria laughed at her own humor, then glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I have another visit before lunch. I’ll call you later.” “Okay, Maria. Thanks for everything.” **** Buddy sprawled in the easy chair by the window, lazily sipping a beer as he contemplated what to fix for dinner. If he remembered right, there were a couple Hungry Man TV dinners buried in the frost of the old Frigidaire. He really didn’t feel like going out to a fastfood joint tonight. The light was blinking on his answering machine across the room. He stared at it, then back out the window, wondering if Lexi Cunningham’s impertinent voice was on his recorder. Only one way to find out. He rose slowly, ambled over and pushed the button. The first message was from his mother. “Buddy, honey, you’ve got to call Dooley. He doesn’t know whether to buy the beer for the picnic or if you’re gonna buy it.” There were five more messages from his family, all about the Memorial Day picnic at the family farm. “Hey, Buddy. I got a great girl for you to bring to the picnic. She’s not a cow. Kinda looks like Shania Twain in a way. At least her hair does. Anyway, if you bring her, we can have a foursome for horseshoes. I don’t wanna play on the same team with cousin Lulu again. She doesn’t throw the shoe at the peg. She throws it at me.” His brother, Lenny, had left a telephone number for 12

Locking Horns somebody named Wanda. Probably some floozy he and Donna met at the bar the previous Friday night. The last message was the one he’d been hoping for. “I’ll be over tomorrow morning at eight.” No name, no telephone number. But it was definitely Lexi’s curt little voice. “Damn.” He had to be at Will Downy’s farm the next day to help with his dairy cattle. Buddy belonged to a loosely knit co-op of farmers and ranchers in the area. In the spring, they went from farm to farm and vaccinated, tagged, and banded the cattle. The Downys had been here today along with several others from the area. He owed the time to Will. Buddy scratched the back of his neck, pondering what to do. Finally, he shrugged it off. Lexi could probably work on her own. He’d have to meet her here at eight, show her what to do, and head back to Downy’s Dairy. So much for supervising her first lesson in humility. He finished his beer and headed to the kitchen to excavate a TV dinner from the ice.

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Chapter 3 A Bunch of Bull.... Lexi changed her clothes three times before finally settling on black bike shorts and the black leather, spaghetti- strap tank top. Combined with a pair of gray socks and her black Nikes, she felt ready to go to Buddy’s place. The black was for the mood she was in. The leather tank top was meant to taunt Buddy. With the top down on her car and the wind rustling through her hair, she cranked the radio and crooned along with Motley Crue. She glanced at her watch as she turned into the long lane leading to the house, two minutes past eight. She wondered if Buddy would make her stay two minutes past eleven to get her three hours in. A pickup truck bounced up the lane in front of her. Lexi slowed, but not enough. The dust raised by the truck hung in the air, enfolding her convertible in a hazy cloud of dirt. She coughed and sputtered and slowed to a crawl. The pickup came to a stop near the barn. Still coughing, Lexi wiped the dust from her watering eyes, and then glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure her mascara hadn’t run. “Neanderthal,” she muttered. “I hope you weren’t talking about me.” Oh damn. It was Buddy, leaning on the doorjamb, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face. “As a matter of fact, I was. Look at me.” Lexi swiped at the layer of dust covering her tank top. She glanced at Buddy and realized that’s exactly what he was doing— looking at her. “Stop staring.” “Make up your mind, woman.” The way he said woman made Lexi sweat. That and the hot sun beating down on her black outfit. She hoped Buddy would find something inside for her to do. She had sunblock in her bag, but mixing it with the layer of dust on her skin would probably make her look like an outback 14

Locking Horns aborigine. Buddy continued to watch her. Behind his sunglasses, she knew he had his eyes on her. She could almost feel them sliding over her skin. “Excuse me, but could you move so I can get out? I only have three hours and I need to get started.” Buddy opened the car door for Lexi. She got out, still brushing dust from her top. “Can I help?” he asked with a mischievous smile. “I’ve got it handled,” she muttered. “A woman shouldn’t have to handle something like that by herself,” Buddy retorted, still smiling. Lexi glared at him, hoping he’d get the point. Buddy nonchalantly adjusted his hat. “So, I only have a few minutes to show you what I need done today. I have to get back to Downy’s Dairy. We’re vaccinating their calves today.” Lexi stared at Buddy, seeing her gaping reflection in his sunglasses. “You mean, I’m going to be here by myself?” “Not exactly. There are fifty head of cattle, not counting the new calves. They’ll be here too. And Shags, the dog you nearly creamed yesterday. I don’t think he’ll bother you today.” “What if I have questions? Shouldn’t you be here my first big day on shit detail?” Buddy shrugged as he headed toward the barn. She had to run to keep up with his quick strides. “You didn’t give me much choice. I got your message, but I owe the Downy’s. They were here yesterday helping me.” Buddy stopped just inside the barn door. From a tool rack, he selected a silage fork and a rake and handed them to Lexi. “You’ll need these. Did you bring gloves?” “No.” “Here.” He handed her a pair of work gloves that looked twice the size of her hands, then picked out a wheelbarrow. He put a container of lime in the wheelbarrow and wheeled it to the far end of the barn. “I need the stalls cleaned.” Lexi looked down the row of empty stalls. “All of them?” “All of them.” 15

M. K. Trent “There must be twenty stalls in here.” “Seventeen.” “Are they all dirty?” “Would I need them cleaned if they weren’t?” Lexi glared at him again. “You’ve been saving this for me, haven’t you?” “How did I know before yesterday morning that you, Ms. Alexis Cunningham, would be here today cleaning my barn stalls? I mean, really, Lexi. If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have let Beaver clean them for the last month.” “Jerk. What if I need something?” Buddy pulled out a business card and stuck it behind a loose splinter of wood on one of the stall doors. “Call my cell phone.” He wheeled and headed toward the doorway. “Wait. Hey!” Lexi chased after him. “Where do I dump the stuff? Is there something to put down once the stall is clean—hay or something?” Buddy stopped. “Manure pile is out back, through the gate and to the left. You can’t miss it. There’s a pretty good size pile of sawdust behind the equipment shed. Clean each stall, lime it down, and cover it with sawdust. Oh, and by the way, don’t leave the gate open behind you.” “Yeah, sure.” Lexi watched Buddy climb in his pickup and drive away. “Fine. Thanks. Bastard,” she added under her breath. So much for the leather tank top effect. An hour later, Lexi was sorry she’d worn the black leather. Sure, she was inside and out of the sun most of the time. But the air in the musty old barn was hot and hung like wet blankets around her. Sweat poured off her forehead while she struggled toward the back with the millionth wheelbarrow load of cow crap. Outside, Lexi stood for a minute in the shade of the big old barn, enjoying the miniscule breeze playing across her damp skin. Her feet were screaming in the leather Nikes, rivulets of sweat ran between her breasts, and the leather stuck to her flesh, rubbing raw spots under her arms. Glancing around, she saw that, other than the cows in the pasture beyond the gate, she truly was alone. With a grin, she struggled out of her top. The immediate relief 16

Locking Horns was gratifying. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of air against her breasts and midriff. Still grinning, she lifted the wheelbarrow and trudged off toward the manure pile. Inside again, Lexi poked her head out the front of the barn to make sure she was still alone. Satisfied, she deposited her leather top in Buddy’s office and strode to the next stall. Manure flew into the wheelbarrow and dust created a fine haze in the air. Only six more stalls and she’d be finished. And if she finished early, who would know she hadn’t stayed the full three hours? Beckett certainly wouldn’t. She could call him from her cell phone at eleven and tell him she was leaving. She chortled to herself as she tossed a forkful of manure into the wheelbarrow. “Moo-ooo-ooo.” The baleful sound was much too close. Lexi peered out the door of the stall and there, right in front of her, was the biggest piece of steak she’d ever seen. Its big brown eyes were glued to her, as it snorted and chewed its cud. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Buddy’s bull was out of the field and standing right in front of her, blocking her exit from the stall. Behind it, another cow wandered by picking up bits of hay from the floor. Its shiny, long horns scraped through the dirt and debris. Lexi gasped and the cow looked up with a piece of hay on the tip of one horn. It stared at her a minute, then meandered out the door. In a matter of minutes, cows of all sizes wandered the aisles of the barn. “Go away. Shoo.” Lexi waved the silage fork at the big bull, who seemed more interested in her than in the freedom of the barn door. The bull didn’t move, just stared. “Pleeeease go away.” Lexi tried tossing a small forkful of manure at the beast. It shook its monster-sized horns at her and bellowed. Terrified, Lexi carefully slid her cell phone out of the leather holder at her waist. She closed her eyes and tried to remember Buddy’s telephone number. Opening her eyes, she punched in the number, her hands shaking so much it took two tries to get all the numbers in. From a 17

M. K. Trent distance, she heard the unmistakable ring of a telephone. “Damn!” she muttered. She’d called the right number. Unfortunately, it was the house number. She ended the call and tried to remember where Buddy had left his business card. She sidled to the edge of the stall, lifted herself on her tiptoes, and peeked out. The card was hanging on a board in the next stall over. Moving to the door of the stall, Lexi eyed the bull. It was stoically standing in front of her, flicking its tail, and chewing. Lexi backed into the stall, went to the side, and hoisted herself over the wooden divider wall, scraping her right boob against the rough board. Slick sweat stung the open scrape and brought tears to her eyes. Damn, but she wouldn’t cry. Lexi hardly noticed landing in the pile of manure. She moved quickly to the stall door, reached out and grabbed the business card, pricking her finger on the sharp splinter of wood holding it. She thought to run out the barn door, but the idea of cows in the yard brought her up short. Instead, she slipped back inside the stall. Still shaking, she dialed Buddy’s cell phone. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. “Damn you. Answer the phone.” “Beckett.” Lexi looked up into the huge face of the bull. If it hadn’t been for the wide spread of the horns, she was sure the animal would no doubt be in the stall with her. “Oh, Jesus, Buddy. The bull is out. He’s got me pinned in a stall.” “The bull?” “Just shut up and get over here.” “On the way. Don’t rile him, Lexi.” “Like I would rile a bull? What do you think I am— stupid? I’m not stupid....” Lexi realized Buddy had hung up on her. “Oh, shit! Please hurry,” she moaned. Buddy floored the accelerator of the big old pickup. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how the bull had gotten out. Riley was in a field all by himself, nowhere near where Lexi was working. Unless she went through the main pasture gate, across a creek and up the far side to the next gate, there was no way Riley could have gotten out, let alone trap her in a stall. Luckily, the Downy’s 18

Locking Horns place was only a few miles up Route 9 from his property. It wouldn’t take long to get back. Of course, there was old man Janek in his 1948 Ford taking a full load of hay bales from his storage barn to his farm. The damned truck wouldn’t go over forty when it was empty. Now, it was creeping along at thirty downhill. Once he passed Janek and got on Route 9, he realized everybody was slowing down. Cop on the side of the road, but he already had a customer. Buddy zipped into the left lane and finally got through the intersection at Route 340. Five minutes later, he bounced down the driveway. Sure enough, there were cattle everywhere and Shags was busy rounding them up. He had eight of them herded into the tomato patch at the side of the house. Great! Buddy got out and slammed the truck door. “Lexi?” “I’m in here. Thank God you’re here. Get this damned animal out of here.” Buddy leaned on the backside of Bess, his best breeding cow. Beyond her big rack of horns and flicking ears, he saw Lexi cowering against the back of the stall, her arms folded tightly over her bare chest. The corners of his mouth twitched and curled upward. A chortle edged its way past his vocal cords and exploded into a full blown hoot. Buddy pulled his sunglasses off and wiped his eyes. Another bout of laughter had him holding his sides. “Shut up, you ignoramus. Move the damned bull.” “Hoo-whew.” Buddy choked back his laughter. “This here’s Bess. I guess you didn’t notice she’s got tits, not balls.” “It’s a bull, damn it. It’s got horns.” “The ladies have horns too. If I move Bess, what are you gonna do about being naked?” “Just move the cow and I’ll worry about me. Okay?” “Deal.” Buddy moved to Bess’s side, gave her a shove with his hip, and the cow reluctantly moved away. Lexi darted past Buddy, her arms still wrapped tightly around her bare chest. She ran to the office door and screamed. “Hey, give me that.”

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Chapter 4 Leather and Lace Buddy followed Lexi to the office. From the doorway, he could see the little calf he’d spared yesterday, standing in his office. Lexi’s black leather top dangled from his mouth. He snorted, backed up, and shook his little head defiantly. “He probably thinks it’s his cousin.” “Oh very funny, Beckett. Get it from him.” “What’s in it for me?” Lexi wheeled and glared at him, her arms still clutched over her chest. One tight pink nipple teased him, peeking out at the bend of her arm. “What’s in it for you if you don’t is a swift kick in the nuts, Buddy.” “Ouch! You drive a hard bargain. Okay. Move out of the way. This could get nasty.” Lexi backed into the corner of the office, putting the desk between her and the confrontation. Buddy, still grinning, approached the calf. The animal lowered his head menacingly, the leather swishing against the floor. He charged Buddy, stepped on the dangling leather and toppled into a bookcase loaded haphazardly with books, papers, jars of miscellaneous screws and nails, and an old Playboy Calendar. With a loud bellow, the calf dropped his prize, smashed into Buddy’s leg, and disappeared out the door as books crashed, glass splintered, and papers fluttered to the ground. “Damn. That was my best collection of screws,” Buddy moaned. He grabbed a paper mid-air and stared at the mess at his feet. “Hey!” Lexi’s indignant voice interrupted his lament. “What about my top?” Buddy slapped the paper on the desk and retrieved the scrap of black leather from the floor. He held it out to 20

Locking Horns Lexi. “Kind of scuffed up and slobbered on. What was it doing in here anyway? Are you a nudist or something?” Buddy barely caught a glimpse of flesh, as Lexi’s arm darted out, grabbed the top, and she covered herself. He watched a slimy string of cow slobber drip onto Lexi’s thigh. Lexi shuddered, then turned so her bare back faced Buddy. He heard a muffled sound, like a choked-back sob. So much for laughing at her. Now, he felt like a perfect shit for leaving her on her own her first day. Damn, but women were sneaky creatures. Just when the joke was on them, they turned it around so you felt like a heel. Buddy unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of it. “Here. Put this on and I’ll clean your top.” He laid the shirt on the desk, reached around, extricated the leather tank top from Lexi’s death grip, and left the room. **** “So, what about the stalls?” “What about my tomatoes?” Buddy countered. Lexi stood next to Buddy, gazing at the smashed remnants of what must have been a great little garden. She felt rotten. After all, it was her fault. She’d felt so exhilarated being topless, she’d forgotten to close the gate. Most of the herd had wandered out and Buddy spent a good hour rounding them up with the help of the dog. His garden was beyond repair, he’d wasted time he owed to another farm family, his office was in shambles and the stalls still weren’t finished. “Sorry,” Lexi whispered. She glanced at Buddy, watching the tail of his open shirt flutter in the breeze. Awareness tingled across her skin and settled in the pit of her stomach. He still had construction-worker abs, all hard and flat and incredibly inviting. “So, I guess I’ve done enough damage for one day. How about I come back on Monday and try again? You have something else that needs destroying?” Lexi said with sarcastic spirit. Buddy gave a little grunt. The corner of his mouth lifted “You know that manure pile out in the field?” “Oh, man. You want me to put it back in the barn, right?” 21

M. K. Trent it.”

“Not really. But there are a lot of other places to put

Like up your butt. Lexi curbed her thoughts. Buddy had passed on a prime opportunity earlier to embarrass her beyond redemption. Instead, he’d graciously given her his shirt to cover up, then cleaned the cow slobber from her top and closed his office door so she could dress in privacy. “So, uh, Monday morning? Eight o’clock sharp?” “Don’t wear leather. Randy is upset.” “Randy?” “The calf that had your top. Leather upsets him. Reminds him of his cousin, Chico. Chico’s a leather sofa now.” Lexi snickered in spite of herself. “No leather.” **** Buddy headed across town in his pickup. He was late, as usual. In the long run, he guessed he wasn’t really late because his momma never expected him much before seven-thirty anyway. Most guys his age would think spending Friday night at Wal-Mart with a ten-year-old as a waste of time. But, ever since his sister was tiny, he’d volunteered to take her with him. She loved Wal-Mart. It was her idea of Disney World and Saks Fifth Avenue all wrapped up in one. When he turned into the driveway, he could see Patty in her favorite red checked dress and bright yellow sneakers jumping up and down on the porch and clapping her hands. It made him warm all over, the way she worshiped him. He loved her, too. Born three years after he graduated high school and left home, Patty had immediately taken his heart by storm. Down Syndrome was something his family had never dealt with before. But it didn’t really matter to them. Patty was family and everybody adored her. When he pulled to a stop, Patty’s face broke into a huge grin. “Bubby, Bubby. You came for me, Bubby.” Buddy got out and caught Patty in his arms. “Sure enough, little sister. You ready to go?” Patty ran to the truck and beat on the door. “Open it, open it.” Her chubby little fingers pulled at the handle without much effect. 22

Locking Horns Next truck he bought, he’d make sure it had a handle Patty could open. Charlene Beckett pushed the screen door open and stuck her head out as Buddy fastened Patty’s seat belt. “Don’t buy her too much candy, now, Buddy. You know her teeth aren’t any good.” “I know, Momma. We’ll be back in a bit.” “Yeah, and don’t take her out honky-tonkin’ either.” Charlene grinned and waved as Buddy backed the truck out. **** Lexi rolled her eyes. Maria had all her father’s prescriptions called in to Wal-Mart. Now, she had to make the inevitable trip to pick up the refills. She hadn’t been in a department store that didn’t carry Hilfiger in so long, she’d almost forgotten they existed. “Well Dad, if I have to go, so do you,” she said. Ray brushed away the idea with a wave of his left hand. “You can’t just sit here and rot.” Lexi gently ran her hand through her father’s hair, pushing errant strands into place. Dinner was finished, he was presentably dressed and in the wheelchair. All she had to do was bring the van around and get him strapped in. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back with the van.” As if he could go anywhere. Lexi sighed. Nothing would please her more than to come back with the van and find her father long gone, his wheelchair left behind. As she loaded her father into the van, she chattered away. “Hanging around this house is killing you, Dad. You never were one to sit around and watch life go by. I’m not about to let you do it now.” Lexi snapped the wheelchair into place, noting the scowl on her father’s face. “It won’t do you any good to brood. You look just as handsome sitting down as you do standing up. Those little teeny-boppers working at Wal-Mart will love you.” The fact that her father didn’t even grunt at Lexi indicated how irritated he was with her. But in his incapacitated state, there was nothing he could do but go along. Sure, Lexi thought, he was probably embarrassed with his current situation. But hiding wasn’t going to 23

M. K. Trent make it any better. Wal-Mart was definitely the place all of Charles Town went to spend their winnings from the Track. Either that or they’d spent all their money at the Track and couldn’t afford anything pricier. The parking lot was jam packed. If it hadn’t been for the handicap placard, Lexi would have had to park in Timbuktu. Inside, she wheeled her father down the main aisle, glancing up and down the side aisles looking for the pharmacy. She spied an employee at the fitting room in the ladies wear department and stopped to ask. As she stepped away from her father, a little girl in a redchecked dress and bright yellow tennis shoes ran clumsily by her. “Look Bubby, he has a lap.” Before Lexi knew what was happening, the chubby little girl was sitting in her father’s lap. “Hi. I like you.” The girl smiled up at Ray Cunningham with a wide, big-toothed grin. Lexi ran back to her father, nearly upsetting the racks of nightgowns and robes. She stepped into the aisle just as a man reached for the girl. The two of them collided, knocking a display of bras and panties helterskelter across the floor. In Ray’s lap, the child laughed and clapped her hands. The corner of Ray’s mouth lifted and Lexi recognized the old twinkle in his eye—one she hadn’t seen since the stroke. Lexi looked from her father to the man she’d run into. Buddy Beckett was standing there with a red industrial-size, double D bra hanging from the cell phone on his belt and a sheepish look on his face. Untangling the bra, Buddy scolded the little girl. “Patty, you need to apologize to....” “Mr. Cunningham. My father,” Lexi interjected. “You apologize to Mr. Cunningham right now.” Buddy took Patty by the hand and helped her off Ray’s lap. “What do you say?” Patty’s lower lip twitched and big tears clung to her lashes. “Didn’t mean nothin’, Bubby.” “I know sweetheart. But you can’t just go up to strangers and sit in their laps. What if you’d hurt Mr. Cunningham?” 24

Locking Horns Ray waved his hand back and forth and muttered, “No trouble, no trouble at all.” That was her father’s most coherent line. Like a teenager with a favorite expletive, he used it for everything, even when it didn’t quite fit. The doctor’s said it was normal. When he got better, he wouldn’t say it as often. A tiny sob escaped the little girl. “I’m sorry, Misser Ham.” Ray’s mouth twitched again and he chuckled. Patty smiled through her tears. “Nice lap,” she said. Buddy pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped Patty’s nose. “You don’t go running off like that again, young lady. We won’t be able to come here if you do.” Patty looked contrite. “Sorry, Bubby.” Lexi cleared her throat. “Guess we’d better clean up this mess.” “I help.” Patty started picking up bras and panties until her little arms overflowed. Buddy did his best to hang the items back on the display. Lexi picked up a pair of black lace panties with a red heart emblazoned near the crotch and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She caught Buddy’s eye and he grinned. “Nice,” he murmured. “Shut up. Just shut up,” she muttered back. “You keep.” Patty shoved a lacy white bra toward Lexi. “You keep.” “No. No. Thanks, but I don’t need one.” “Purty.” Patty shoved the little scrap of lace at Lexi again. Lexi looked at a still-grinning Buddy. “Okay.” She reluctantly tucked the item under her arm. “Thank you, sweetie.” Patty took three pairs of underwear and stuffed them in Lexi’s hands. “Yours.” Buddy just shrugged. “She likes you. By the way, this is my sister, Patty. Patty, this is Alexis, a friend of mine.” “Lex likes the pretty things.” Patty stroked the satiny pair of leopard spot underwear dangling from Lexi’s hand. Ray cleared his throat and looked expectantly at 25

M. K. Trent Lexi. “Oh, gosh. Sorry, Dad. This is Buddy Beckett. I’m, um, working off my ticket at his ranch. Buddy, my Dad, Ray Cunningham.” The underwear swung suggestively, as Lexi motioned to her father. She quickly wadded them in her hand. Ray lifted his right hand ever so slightly off his knee. Buddy shook hands with him and Lexi noted how he carefully made sure her father’s hand didn’t just flop back to his lap afterwards. “Nice to meet you, sir.” Ray nodded and slid a sideways glance at Lexi. “No trouble,” he answered. “Well, we were on the way to the pharmacy. We’ve got to get going.” “Pharmacy’s in front.” Buddy pointed to the big overhead sign. “Glad you took a detour through the underwear, though. Never would have run into you if you hadn’t.” “Yeah, guess not.” Patty took Buddy’s hand and waved, a big grin on her face. As soon as Lexi was sure Patty wasn’t watching, she laid the underwear on a counter full of T-shirts. The last thing she needed was black underwear with a red heart beckoning like a neon light in a sleazy bookstore. Buddy glanced back as Lexi and her father headed toward the pharmacy. He couldn’t miss her depositing the underwear on one of the shelves. He really did like those black panties with the heart. And Patty had chosen quite a sexy bra to give her—delicate and lacy. He decided lace was just the thing to soften the hard edges Lexi flaunted. With a chuckle, he turned around, scooped up the underwear, found the basket he’d left when Patty disappeared, and headed for the checkout.

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Chapter 5 What was I Thinking? “Lex is purty,” Patty said between licks of her quickly melting ice cream cone. “Yep,” Buddy replied, reaching over and wiping at the stream of chocolate dripping down Patty’s hand. “Can she come to our house and play?” Buddy grinned. “I can ask her.” “I want her to.” Patty slurped ice cream off her hand. “And Misser Ham, too.” “I don’t know if he could come. He’s been sick.” Buddy was pretty sure Ray Cunningham wouldn’t be interested in coming to his parents’ farm. He’d driven by the Cunningham place before. The lofty, well-kept barns and mansion-like house were no comparison to his father’s pig-sties and well-worn farm house—not to mention the smell. “Not sick now. I want a chair like his. With wheels.” “You have a tricycle. That’s like his chair.” Buddy watched the chocolate ooze between Patty’s little fingers. It was useless to try to wipe her hands. He’d just wait until she was finished and wash her up. “Can we give the purty stuff to Lex when she comes over?” Buddy nearly choked on his cone. He hadn’t realized Patty would put any significance to the bra and panties he’d bought. He didn’t think she’d even noticed, considering the new dress she’d been so excited about. And, he hadn’t really thought ahead to actually giving the underwear to Lexi, other than in his wildest imaginings. Just like when he was sixteen. He’d thought about lacy underwear and Lexi Cunningham—lots of times. Only tonight, he’d started acting out those fantasies. Patty’s insistent voice cut through his thoughts. “Can we?” “Maybe, sweetie. We’ll see.” 27

M. K. Trent “Lex likes Misser Ham.” “Yep.” Buddy licked his cone and thought about it. Miss Attitude had her vulnerable side. He’d seen it, the way she protected her father, the way she looked at him with that mixture of pride and sadness. “Is she gonna marry him?” A wistful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Patty had an innocent outlook on things. The world made sense to her in such simple ways. “No, Patty. Mister Cunningham is Lexi’s father. Like Daddy is your father.” “I’m gonna marry Daddy someday. Maybe tomorrow.” Buddy gave Patty a pretend frown. “I thought you were gonna marry me.” “Yep. I’ll marry you both.” **** “So that’s Buddy Beckett,” Lexi told her father while she drove toward home. “His father owns the pig farm that’s been in the news. The one everybody is upset about because of the smell. You know, it’s really obvious pigs smell. You’d think those people building half million dollar houses would have been smart enough not to build downwind of a pig farm.” She glanced at her father and noticed the upturn at the corner of his mouth. He chuckled and wagged his head. “I mean, after all, it’s not like the Beckett’s moved in next door to them. They’ve been here since God created dirt. It’s a wonder this town isn’t named Beckettville instead of Charles Town.” Seeing that her father was enjoying the conversation, even though he didn’t participate, Lexi continued. “Can you believe we trashed the Wal-Mart lingerie department? God, I have never been so embarrassed. It was bad enough having to pick up all those panties, but with Buddy right there leering at me the whole time. He’ll never let me live that down.” Ray’s shoulders shook and he let go with an explosive laugh. “Yeah, go ahead and laugh. You and Patty seemed to think it was great entertainment.” “No trouble.” 28

Locking Horns Patty. What a surprise. From the child’s appearance and behavior, it was obvious the Beckett’s had a child with Down Syndrome. Patty must have been born when Buddy was around twenty. The incidence of Down Syndrome went up dramatically with the age of the mother, and Buddy’s mother must have been nearly menopausal when the child was conceived. The real surprise was that Buddy took the time to bring the little girl with him. He interacted with her like a parent with a child. He didn’t act like a tough, cattlewrestling, smart-alec with an attitude. He was loving and gentle, even when he scolded her. Lexi glanced at her father. He wasn’t looking at her, but she knew there was something on his mind. “I suppose you’d like to have a grandkid, huh Dad?” Ray lifted his hand as if to brush the comment away and stared out the side window. “I saw the way you grinned with Patty. I saw the twinkle in your eye.” Lexi sighed. “I haven’t found the right guy yet, Dad. I can’t just marry some idiot so you can have a grandkid.” Her father turned toward her and she knew exactly where his mind was going. “Oh, no way. Not Buddy Beckett. Don’t you get any ideas about matchmaking. There’s no way in hell I want to live in Charles Town. It might be for you, but I’m not a country girl. This is too quiet for me. I need the excitement of the city. “Besides, do you want to get embroiled in the whole pig farm issue? What a stink that would be—literally.” She stared at him and he lifted an eyebrow at her. “Da-ad,” she moaned, looking back at the road. “I’ve got prospects in Baltimore.” She felt her father’s keen gaze on her and refused to look at him. She couldn’t look him in the eye and lie to him. There were plenty of men she’d dated, but not one of them fell into the prospect category. And neither did Buddy Beckett. Sure, he had his own business and a shred of decency. He had definite sex appeal, something she’d tried to deny since running into him again. Every time she looked at him, her hormones kicked into high gear and sent her nerve endings screaming. She let her 29

M. K. Trent imagination strip him, one piece of clothing at a time, until he was standing as naked as her three foot statue of The David. But sex couldn’t be construed as love. Love was what it would take for her to marry and conceive the grandchild her father longed for. After a delusional courtship and inevitably unrealistic love-making, she’d still have to live with the man. Buddy Beckett no doubt left hair in the sink and a week’s dirty dishes molding in the kitchen— two things that screamed pig farmer loud and clear. No. Buddy Beckett might be good for a hot round or two of sex, but there was no way he was husband material. She gave her father an apologetic look and changed the subject. **** Lexi tried to reach her best friend, Carrie, all Friday evening with no luck. She finally got hold of her Saturday afternoon. “I’ve been calling and calling. What happened to you?” “Sorry, Lexi. Dave and I are at the beach and my cell phone battery went dead. I couldn’t get a new one until this morning. What’s up? How did your community service thing go?” Lexi sat on the veranda steps soaking up the warm sunshine. “Oh, God, Carrie. You wouldn’t believe it.” “Try me.” “I’m working at a cattle ranch that belongs to this guy I wasn’t nice to in high school.” Lexi leaned her forehead against her hand and sighed. “I’m doomed.” “A cattle ranch? Can they do that? I mean, isn’t community service supposed to be, like, at the Y or working with Girl Scouts or something?” “This is redneck country. They can do whatever they want. And anyway, I was also pretty rude to the guy who’s the judge. So, I’m double doomed.” “Huh! Were you nice to anybody down there?” Lexi thought about it a minute. “No, I guess not. I was Miss Snob from the City. Right now, I really regret it.” “Yeah. I’ll bet. Life sucks, huh?” 30

Locking Horns In more ways than one, Lexi thought. Her father was sick, her mother was long gone, and she was stuck in West Virginia. And Buddy Beckett had ultimate control over another ninety-seven hours of her life. “So, have you been there yet?” “Oh, yeah.” Lexi launched into the gory details of being trapped half-naked in the stall. “And it turned out to be a milk cow. I thought it was his bull, but all of them have horns." Carrie laughed. “Damn, Lexi. Couldn’t you tell the difference between cow hooters and bull nuts?” “I wasn’t looking at the back end. I was staring at the biggest set of horns ever grown by a cow. I could have been gored to death, hooters or no.” “So you were rescued by this Beckett guy? I bet he really liked your boobs, huh?” Carrie was snickering. “He didn’t see my boobs and he never will,” Lexi answered vehemently. “I’m going to die here, Carrie. I’ve got another eon to go and I think all I’ll be doing is shoveling cow shit. Can you believe it?” “Paybacks are hell, huh?” “Yeah.” Lexi hesitated, thinking of Buddy Beckett, all grown up. About his cute butt, his mischievous blue eyes, that damned dimple. This was going to be a tough ninetyseven hours. “Hey! Are you still there?” “Oh, sure, Carrie. Sorry. I was just thinking about Buddy Beckett. He’s grown up to be a big problem.” “Sounds like it,” Carrie replied. Lexi stood up and looked out over her father’s manicured lawn and impeccable gardens, seeing none of it. “Hmmmmm. More of a problem than I ever imagined, Carrie.” **** “This is Wanda.” Buddy’s sister-in-law, Donna, did the introductions at the American Legion Saturday night. “We met her last week. She’s visiting her cousins over to Paw-Paw and they came in here for some fun. Wanda, this is Lenny’s brother, Buddy.” “Nice to meet you.” As Buddy shook her hand, he noticed the tattoo that ran half-way up her arm. It was some kind of a vine thing with purple flowers. It looked 31

M. K. Trent about as appealing as poison ivy. Giving Lenny a dirty look, Buddy set his beer on the table and slid into the booth. Lenny hadn’t said he was going to bring an extra woman along, but there she was. He should have known, after the phone message Thursday. Buddy liked to be prepared for these fiascoes, but Lenny had caught on and usually just slipped a blind date in on him at least once a month. Other than fathering children with Donna—they already had four—finding a wife for Buddy was his main preoccupation. His brother’s heart was in the right place, but Buddy wished he’d just let him do it himself. His attention turned to Donna’s loud, raspy voice. “You know what Lenny did the other day? This was a real lunkhead thing,” Donna announced. Lenny’s beer bottle banged on the table. “There you go again. Ain’t you told that story enough times?” “Not near enough. You get to hear it a few more times. Then maybe you won’t do it again.” She turned back to Buddy. “Lenny stopped by Doc’s with Donnie Ray. They got liquored up and went over to your daddy’s place. Donnie Ray bet Lenny he couldn’t walk the top rail of the fence around the big pigpen.” Buddy shook his head as the waitress, Lou-Ann, stopped at the table. He bet he knew exactly what lunkhead thing Lenny had done. “Yeah, hon,” Donna said to Lou-Ann. “I’ll have some of those French fries and gravy, a Big John Burger, and another Bud.” She waited while everybody else ordered, then continued her story. “Lenny climbed up on the fence rail and got two steps out. Donnie Ray was laughing so hard when he told me this, I thought he was gonna pee his pants. He said Lenny did a header off the fence and did a face-plant in the pig muck. You know your daddy hosed down the ham because it was so hot that day. So, the place was real slimy and ripe.” Donna crowed as she pulled a cigarette out of her case. Lenny ignored her, a sullen look on his face. “Lenny!” 32

Locking Horns “Yeah, all right, honey.” Lenny lit her cigarette and went back to nursing his beer. Wanda grinned at Buddy and he gave her a tight smile in return. He didn’t want to be rude, but damn. She was just like Uncle Deacon’s rat terrier—once she got a good hold on you, you wouldn’t be able to get away. She pulled out a cigarette and waited. “Uh, sorry. Lenny?” “Oh, yeah, honey. Here.” Lenny lit Wanda’s cigarette and Buddy focused on his beer and Donna’s story. Donna took a drag on the cigarette and continued. “It’s not enough he falls off the fence into the pig muck, but he grabs one of the sows and kisses it.” Lenny took a swig of beer and muttered, “Thought it was Donna.” Donna glared at Lenny. “What’d you say?” “Said I thought it was dinner.” “Humph. Anyway, then Donnie Ray hauled Lenny to the watering trough and threw him in. He didn’t want pig muck in his truck. Your daddy, he got pissed because the pigs got to squealing and raising a ruckus and Lenny dirtied up the fresh water in the trough. He brought out the shotgun and blasted a hole in Donnie Ray’s back tire. Lenny had to pay for a new one.” Buddy grinned over at Wanda. “That’s my family.” She grinned back at him. “Sounds like somethin’ my brothers would do.” Oh, great! Buddy didn’t need two wacky families. Even if Wanda had been Miss America, she was off his list of possibilities. Problem was, when it came to finding a woman for Buddy, Lenny always picked the kind of women he liked. But then, Lenny probably didn’t know any women Buddy would like. He’d always been less discriminating in his tastes. Not that Donna wasn’t a great woman, she was just a great woman for Lenny. Lenny needed somebody to keep him straight. Donna was just the one to do that. Buddy wouldn’t be surprised if Lenny got the two-by-four treatment occasionally. It seemed to keep him in line and in Donna’s bed, which was just where she wanted him. Lenny took after his daddy when it came to women. As it turned out, Wanda was a great dancer and had 33

M. K. Trent an infectious laugh. The evening wasn’t turning out to be altogether unpleasant, but there just wasn’t any spark between them. And there was the ever-present, distracting image of Lexi Cunningham in black panties emblazoned with a red heart. **** Lexi’s cell phone jangled loudly in the nearly dark room. She turned on a lamp and looked at the number— Phil Moreland. With a sigh, she answered. “Hello.” “Hey there, beautiful. Thought you might be headed up here tonight. It’s a gorgeous night for a boat ride on the Harbor.” “No. I have to stay with my father.” She could have found someone to come over for the evening. She’d done that before. But tonight she wasn’t in the mood to party with Phil or any of her other friends. “So, how about phone sex?” “Huh?” She hadn’t been paying attention and Phil caught her by surprise. “You know, a little fun over the phone?” Lexi could go for a little sexual release right now. All she’d thought about the entire day was Buddy Beckett, damn his hide. But with Phil? “I don’t know, Phil....” “Aw, come on, Lexi. I was really hoping to see you tonight.” What he implied was he really hoped for a little sexual interlude tonight. She hadn’t seen Phil since the night she got the ticket for speeding. He could have cared less about her father’s progress or her $120 ticket. All he wanted was sex. When she thought about it, that seemed to be all Phil ever wanted. Shallow bastard! Buddy popped into her mind—not his fantastic abs, not his tight butt outlined in chaps, not his intense blue eyes or sandy-brown hair. What she saw was Buddy handing his shirt to her so he could clean up her tank top. Buddy gently wiping Patty’s nose when she cried. And looking like he’d been kicked by a mule when she’d turned him down in high school. And the proud tilt of his chin when he told her what 34

Locking Horns she could do to herself. God, what kind of shithead she’d been. “Lexi....oh, jeez, unh.” Lexi realized Phil was having phone sex with himself. She hung up, turned out the lamp, and went to see if her father had fallen asleep in front of the TV again. “And the latest from the Middle East....” The big, overstuffed dark green velvet chair her father liked so much was pushed aside to make room for his new wheel chair. The wheelchair she wished she could donate to a good cause. Oh my God! Her father wasn’t in the chair. He was lying on the floor, twisted and unmoving.

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Chapter 6 Whose Goose is Cooked? Guilt washed over Lexi. She’d been wallowing in selfpity, while her father needed her. She squeezed back tears as she knelt beside her father. “Dad! Daddy! Are you all right?” A jagged breath escaped her father. Lexi realized he wasn’t unconscious—anger and despair twisted his face into a tight mask of lines and angles. With his left arm, he reached out and weakly pounded the floor. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s okay.” Lexi leaned over and cradled his head in her arms. “I love you. I promise everything will be okay.” If only she could keep that promise. Ray struggled to get up. “Wait. I’ll get some help. There’s no way I can lift you by myself.” Ray lay back, looking defeated. Lexi gently released him and stood. Picking up the phone from the table by her father’s chair, she punched the button for Clyde Holcolm, her father’s stable manager. Clyde and his family lived in a cottage about a mile from the main house. The phone rang three times before the answering machine picked up. “You’ve reached the Holcolms. Please leave a message....” “Clyde, if you’re there, please pick up. This is Lexi Cunningham. Dad’s fallen and I need some help.” There was nothing but the beep. Well, it was Saturday night. Clyde and his family were probably out to a movie or visiting relatives. Lexi hung up and tried the home care nurse, Maria Arnold. No answer. She wracked her brain. Who else could she call? Her father, no doubt, had plenty of people who would come to his aid, but she didn’t know them or their numbers. Buddy Beckett popped into her mind. Nothing new— he’d been on her mind all day. But damn! She hated 36

Locking Horns calling him for help. 9-1-1. She could call the local ambulance company. But her father would be even more embarrassed if a couple of young guys, barely old enough to wipe their own noses, came to pick him up off the floor. Better for her to be uncomfortable than her father. She pulled Buddy’s business card out of her pocket and dialed his cell phone. There was no way Beckett would be home on a Saturday night. She just hoped he wouldn’t be too drunk to come over. **** Buddy took a handful of peanuts and shelled one as he listened to Lenny’s rendition of last fall’s turkey hunting trip. Donna interrupted. “You know what I really like? I really like goose. Now that’s a treat. Lenny, you ought to go goose hunting.” “Yeah, then Donna could cook your goose,” Buddy interjected. Everybody laughed. Lenny nearly snorted his beer. “She’s done that a few times already.” “You know how geese always fly in a V-formation?” Buddy asked Wanda. Donna and Lenny exchanged knowing glances. “Yeah,” Wanda replied. “You know why one side of the V is always longer than the other?” “No, why?” Wanda asked. Buddy grinned. “‘Cause there’s more geese on that side.” Wanda looked annoyed. “You going to college and all, I thought you’d have some high-falutin’ scientific explanation.” “Nope. Just simple old country arithmetic,” Buddy answered. He’d expected Wanda to bust him in the arm or something, but her response was disappointing. So much for the sense of humor he’d expected from her. Wanda suddenly slid away from him. “Hey, somethin’s buzzing.” Buddy felt the tell-tale vibration of his cell-phone and slid it out of his pocket. “Beckett.” His breath caught in his throat when he recognized 37

M. K. Trent Lexi Cunningham’s voice. “Buddy, this is Lexi. I hate to bother you on a Saturday night, but my father fell and I can’t get him up by myself. I’ve tried to call for help, but nobody is answering.” “Hey, we’ll be right over.” “We?” Buddy hung up the phone. “Come on, Lenny. Lexi Cunningham’s father fell and she needs some help getting him up.” “Oooh. Cunningham, as in Charlemane Thoroughbreds Cunningham?” Buddy nodded. “Since when do we get called by the high and mighty?” “Shut up and come on.” “Ain’t Lexi Cunningham that snotty bitch from high school? The one you pined over for years?” “Lenny, I said shut up.” “Hah! She’s still got you by the....” “Lenny!” “Okay. I got the point.” Lenny chugged what was left of his beer. “Be back in a few, sweetie pie.” He kissed Donna on the cheek. “Don’t dance with Axel Henning while I’m gone or I’ll break his leg.” Donna grinned and shoved Lenny toward the door. “Axel Henning can’t dance anywhere near as good as you, Lenny. He’d make a mess of my white tennies.” Buddy gave Wanda an apologetic look. “Sorry. We’ll be back. Just a friend that needs some help.” As he and Lenny left, he saw Donna and Wanda put their heads together and knew Wanda was getting the scoop on his illfated high school crush on Lexi Cunningham. Wasn’t much that went on in Charles Town that everybody didn’t know about. Charlemane Thoroughbreds was only a few miles outside town. But it seemed to take an eternity driving there with Lenny yammering in his ear about the Cunninghams, and Lexi in particular. He wanted all the details about Lexi and Buddy’s new-found relationship. As if there was one. “She’s shoveling shit at my place. That’s all. Eddie gave her community service for speeding.” “So, why is she calling you tonight? She should have 38

Locking Horns called the fire department or somebody. Sheesh! Just because she’s shoveling your shit don’t mean you need to come running every time she needs something. I mean, come on Buddy, she ain’t family or nothin’.” Buddy stared at the road ahead. “I know she’s not family. But, her daddy fell. He had a stroke and she can’t get him up. It’s the right thing to do, you know. Help somebody when they need it. So shut up about Lexi and me. There’s nothing more than shit between us.” Never has been. “Yeah, right. You leave a cold beer and a nice, available woman for that? Hells bells, Buddy. You got your priorities all screwed up.” Buddy pulled into the long driveway of the Cunningham Farm. At the entrance, a huge lighted sign indicated he was entering the domain of the haute couture of the horse set—Charlemane Thoroughbreds. Owned by Raymond Cunningham, Lexi’s father, someday to be owned by Alexis Cunningham. She’d probably sell the place before her father’s body cooled. He’d never been here before, though he’d driven by the place enough times when Lexi had been in his dreams. Now, he didn’t have time to admire the soft glow of lamplight through the trees flanking the drive or the impressive white columns lining the front of the house. Lenny kept needling him. “Buddy and Lexi, sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Buddy with a baby carriage.” Buddy busted Lenny in the arm, just as Lenny opened the truck door. Lenny stumbled out, laughing uproariously. Buddy made a note not to bring Lenny along next time he came to Lexi’s. In fact, he vowed never to let Lenny know if he came here again. “Lenny, shut up. You’re acting like a nit-wit,” Buddy admonished. “And if you don’t straighten up, I’ll damn sure tell Donna you were eyeballing Wanda’s cleavage.” Lenny sobered quickly. “I wasn’t eyeballing anybody’s cleavage.” “So what? You know what Donna will do.” “You’re a damned wet blanket, Buddy Beckett. Remind me not to invite you out on Saturday night 39

M. K. Trent again.” Lexi heard the truck pull up, then laughter and voices. How many people did Buddy bring with him? She didn’t want half the world staring at her father lying helpless on the floor. The doorbell chimed and she heard Buddy’s voice. “Lexi?” “In here.” Lexi stood between her father and the doorway, as if her small presence would protect him. Buddy came through the entryway first, followed by a man who could only be part of the Beckett clan. He was about Buddy’s size, with sandy hair, a mustache, and the same intense blue eyes as Buddy. “Hey. I brought my brother, Lenny, along. Thought he might be a help.” Yeah, if he could stop goo-gawing at the gilt-framed aerial picture of the farm over the fireplace. Or stumbling over the edge of the oriental carpet because he wasn’t looking where he was going. “Thanks for coming.” Buddy punched his brother in the arm. “Put your eyes back in your head and help me. Lexi, you hold the wheelchair in place.” He squatted down next to Ray. “Guess you made Lexi mad and she dumped your butt on the floor, huh?” Ray’s expression changed from embarrassed to amused. “Well, she’s a wildcat, that daughter of yours. You shouldn’t beat her at checkers so often. She doesn’t just get mad, she gets even.” Buddy and Lenny got Ray into a seated position and lifted him carefully into the wheelchair. Lexi ran her hand through her dad’s hair, smoothing it in place. She leaned over the back of the chair, wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face against his neck. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Ray reached up with his left hand and patted her cheek. “If you’re okay now, we’ll be heading out,” Buddy said to Ray. “Drink.” Ray waved his hand in the air, as Lexi straightened up. “Drink.” Ray motioned for Lexi and pointed toward the parlor. 40

Locking Horns “Dad wants to share his Jack Daniels with you. Right, Dad?” The corner of Ray’s mouth tilted upwards and he shook his head. “No need....” Lenny elbowed Buddy in the side. He turned away and muttered, “You don’t turn down a Southern gentleman’s offer of a drink.” Turning back, he said, “We’d be right proud to take you up on your offer, Mister Cunningham.” “Yeah. We would,” Buddy echoed. They sat on the veranda with Ray and Lexi. Buddy had time to take in the beauty of the place. The trees down the drive were in bloom, their branches laden with white flowers illuminated by landscape lights. A light breeze stirred and a shower of petals cascaded to the ground like snowflakes. “So, Lenny, thanks for coming along to help. We really appreciate it.” Lexi sat next to her father, holding a glass of wine. She’d declined the whiskey. Too much of a bite, she’d said. Buddy thought it went down pretty smooth compared to some he’d had. “No problem, ma’am. We were just tipping a few over at the Legion,” Lenny answered. “Army?” Ray said. “You, uh, you were, um, Army?” “A couple of years right out of high school. I didn’t see any fightin’, but Daddy, he was in Nam. Where’d he say he was, Buddy? Huey or someplace like that.” “Hue.” “That’s the place. Were you in Nam?” Ray nodded. “Clerk. Typed uh, typed stuff.” “Lucky,” Lexi interjected. She looked at her father, that proud, sad look again. “Are you cold, Dad? Let me get you a throw.” Ray started to protest, but Lexi was already inside. She emerged holding a soft-looking blue blanket and tucked it around her father’s shoulders. “Beginning to cool off some,” Buddy remarked. “Been a little hot for this time of year. Momma says we’re going to miss spring altogether at this rate.” “Horses,” Ray said. “Know it’s spring.” He grinned 41

M. K. Trent and winked at Lexi. “Pigs, too,” Lenny added. He eyed the whiskey bottle, then gazed at his empty glass. Lexi acted as hostess and re-filled his glass. She held the bottle up for Buddy. “No. I’m fine,” he said, holding up his hand. “Doing fine.” He contemplated the liquid fire in his glass, then Lexi, sitting with her legs crossed demurely, like she belonged anywhere but West Virginia. She’d never be happy in his world. She was probably right to have left years ago. It occurred to him, he knew next to nothing about her life now, except that she lived in Baltimore. On impulse, he asked, “What do you do in your real life, Lexi?” Lexi set her wine on the glass top table next to her. She gave him a wistful smile. “I’m a personal trainer.” “Whoo-whew, Miss Lexi. I bet you could teach me a thing or two.” Lenny was grinning from ear to ear. Buddy gave him a sidelong shut up look. Lexi took care of it herself. “I could make your abs scream, Lenny,” she replied. “If you made it through that, I have a few other torture techniques that would render you immobile for a couple of days. Your muscles wouldn’t know what hit them.” Buddy hid a grin behind his whiskey glass as he took another sip. “Lenny’s right arm is real strong,” he said. “From lifting a Budweiser bottle.” “Humph. You should talk. I ain’t seen you decline a cold one very often.” Buddy ignored him. “Who’s minding the abs while you’re gone, Lexi?” “A couple of the other trainers took over my clients while I’m here. But I won’t be here much longer. Dad is doing really well. Right Dad?” She smiled over at him. “He’s got a rehab team working with him every day. And, I help out with his physical therapy.” “Thought....thought....um, my legs could....would work. You know? Not strong enough. Fell. You know?” “That happens,” Buddy said. “Why, Lenny fell out of the truck when we got here. Didn’t you, Lenny.” Lenny snorted. “Had a little help from somebody.” Lexi watched the two brothers as they teased each other. She’d always hoped for a sister to pal around with. 42

Locking Horns Seeing the way Buddy and Lenny interacted, the way they shot looks at each other and laughed, made her consider again what it would have been like. There would be a down side, she guessed. Like when your brother knocked you out of the truck. She wondered what smart remark had brought that on. “Good....good whiskey,” Ray said, raising his glass. “Great whiskey,” Buddy replied, raising his and touching her father’s. “Here’s to your health improving.” Ray nodded and sipped his whiskey. “Can’t have more whiskey.” He enunciated the words slowly. “Too many....too many, um, pills. Damn pills.” He looked over at Buddy. “Cows? Um, you lift, no. Um, you raise, raise cows?” “Yes, sir,” Buddy answered. “Got about fifty head, plus new calves—about twenty so far.” “Huh. Good business? Cows?” Buddy nodded. “Yes, sir. Real good so far.” Ray grinned. “No mad cows?” Buddy grinned back. “No, sir. A few mad women, but no cows.” Ray laughed, an explosive, booming sound. “Her?” he asked, pointing at Lexi with his glass. “Dad. Hush.” “Yes, sir,” Buddy replied with a wide grin. “She’s been a mite pissed at me a couple of times.” “With good reason,” Lexi said. “You left me at the mercy of those beasts. I could have been trampled to death.” Buddy snickered. “Or trapped in a stall all day without any clothes on.” Lenny’s head spun around. “I didn’t hear about that.” “And you won’t,” Lexi snapped. She glared at Buddy, daring him to say anything more. Buddy jumped suddenly and grabbed his cell phone. He stared at the readout and cursed. “Uh-oh, Lenny. Our gooses are cooked. Hello?” Lexi watched the look on his face darken as he spoke. “We’re just on our way back, Donna. Yeah, Lenny’s fine. It just took longer than we thought. We’ll be out to the truck in two shakes.” Lexi cocked an eyebrow at Buddy and gave him a 43

M. K. Trent smirk. “Little lady calling to check up on you?” He hung up and glanced at Lenny. “Donna’s wound up.” “Oh, jeez!” Lenny lamented. “Lenny’s wife,” Buddy explained. “We left her and Wanda at the Legion. We better get back before Donna finds a two-by-four.” Lexi’s heart fell. Buddy was with some girl named Wanda. The only Wanda she’d ever known grew up to be a hooker in downtown Baltimore. It colored her entire perception of the Wandas of the world. She hoped Buddy had more taste than that. “So, um, thanks for the help. Right Dad?” Ray held out his left hand. Buddy and Lenny shook it firmly. “No trouble. Thank you very much,” he added, slowly sounding out the words. “Anytime, Mister Cunningham.” Lenny raised his glass and downed the last of his whiskey. “Anybody got a breath mint? Donna’ll kill me if she thinks I been drinking the hard stuff.” “Not to mention Geeky-Beak, if he catches you driving,” Lexi replied. “The Beak won’t catch me. Buddy’s driving.” Lenny grinned. “Got a breath mint for Buddy?” Lexi had noted how slowly Buddy sipped his one small glass of whiskey. She doubted he needed to worry about getting stopped. “We’ll be on our way. See you Monday, Lexi.” “Yeah, Monday. Keep the cows locked up.” Buddy grinned and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.” Lexi stood on the top step and watched the two men as they headed toward the truck. Lenny tripped on the bottom step and started laughing. The two glasses of whiskey had obviously taken their toll. Buddy grabbed his brother and muttered, “Lenny, stop acting like a nit-wit. Jeez.” “I ain’t actin’,” Lenny replied. “Just ask Donna.” Lexi couldn’t help smiling at the two of them. What a pair. When they’d gone, she wheeled her father into the parlor where his bed was set up. Once he was comfortable, she found a seed catalog and sat in the kitchen perusing tomatoes. She wondered what kind 44

Locking Horns Buddy had planted in his garden before Shags had sent the Longhorns charging through them. Beefsteak? Hmmmm. Wanda, the Beefsteak Tomato. She tittered, then laughed out loud. “Shut up,” she admonished herself. “You’re such an idiot. Buddy Beckett is with Wanda, the Beefsteak Tomato, and you’re sitting here all alone snickering about it. Pathetic, Lexi. Totally pathetic.” She tossed the catalog on the table and turned out the light. Totally pathetic. That’s what her life was. If something didn’t give pretty soon, her goose would be cooked.

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Chapter 7 Icebox Blues From the seat of his old International tractor, Buddy watched Lexi’s little BMW Z2 fly up the lane. Dust and rocks flew, leaving a comet-tail behind her. “Calm down, dumb shit. She’s not here to see you, she’s here because Eddie made her come.” He shoved aside the turmoil bubbling around inside him since last week, revved the engine, and turned the tractor toward the barn. “Hey, right on time,” he said as he killed the noisy old machine. He sat lazily and let his eyes roam over the woman standing in front of him. No leather, but the shorts and top she had on hugged her curves like chocolate on a dipped cone. Totally mouthwatering. “Why wouldn’t I be on time?” Lexi asked. “I’ve been looking forward to this all weekend. Shit duty is so rewarding.” “Humph. Community service isn’t supposed to be fun. You’re supposed to do hard labor for your sins.” He jumped down from the tractor and took a deep breath of the perfume Lexi was wearing. Whatever it was, it made his whole body hard just smelling it. He made of show of dusting off his hands on his jeans, then nodded. “Follow me.” He headed toward the house. Lexi ran after him. “Hey, did you move the cows inside? Are they grazing on your philodendrons?” “Nope.” “So why are we going to the house? Did you give up on your checkbook this weekend? Are you going to break down and ask me to balance it for you?” “Hell, no.” Buddy held the door open and motioned Lexi in. He stopped and kicked off his dusty boots, then headed into the kitchen. Lexi was right behind him. He thought about stopping again, just so she’d run into him. The idea of her much-more-than-a-mouthful boobs pressed against his 46

Locking Horns back made him sweat. “I need my refrigerator defrosted,” he said, turning toward her. Lexi only stared at him. He waved at her. “Hello.” “I didn’t know they made refrigerators that needed defrosting,” she replied, a look of total incredibility on her face. Trying to ignore the thick, rich texure of Lexi’s pixi cut hair that made him want to bury his hands in it, he pointed to the ancient Frigidaire hugging the wall next to the pantry cabinet. “This is a family heirloom.” “That is a refrigerator? My God! It looks like it escaped from the dump.” Lexi opened the door, poked her head inside and frowned. “What’s this?” Lexi handed him a container and her hand brushed his. The feel of her fingernails trailing across his skin sent goosebumps down his spine. Buddy opened the container, examined the contents long enough to trust his voice not to sound like he’d been castrated, then gave it back to her. “Leftover tamales from Casa Rico. I’ve got a cooler out in the mudroom you can put all the cold stuff in while you’re working on it.” Me included. He needed something cold about now. A shower probably wasn’t enough to quell the heat that sparked across his nerve endings and made his skin burn. Damn the woman. And damn Eddie for sending her over here. What had seemed like a perfect opportunity for revenge was rapidly turning into a conflict of teenage anguish and grown-up desires. Lexi plunked down into a kitchen chair. “This is as bad as cleaning stalls.” With an uncomfortable grunt, Buddy squatted by the cabinet and pulled out two cast iron pots. “Here’s a couple of pots for hot water. Don’t use anything sharp on the ice flow in the freezer compartment, okay? Once you’re finished with the pots, they need to be dried on the stove so they don’t rust. Momma would never forgive me if I left a pot to rust.” He looked up at Lexi. She was still holding the container of leftover tamales, looking about as stunned as when he’d handed her the sileage fork on 47

M. K. Trent Friday. “So, is there a problem, Ms. Cunningham?” “Why don’t you get a new refrigerator? This thing is older than you.” Buddy stood and placed the two pots on the counter. “Nothing wrong with it. Would you replace your father just because he’s older than you?” Lexi gave him an exasperated huff. “Penny pincher.” “I’m not into wasting my money.” She sighed and stood up. “Are you staying around today or do you trust me with this job?” “Thought I’d hang around. I’ve still got a couple cucumber plants and a row of turnips that weren’t ruined last week.” Lexi slung out her hip and placed her fisted hand on it. “So, that’s why I don’t get to shovel shit anymore, huh?” Buddy backed Lexi against the table and stared down into her dark-as-sin eyes. “You want some shit today, Ms. Cunningham?” he whispered hoarsely. “Because if you want some shit, I can give it to you.” “The....um, the refrigerator. I’ll defrost the refrigerator,” she stammered, pressing her backside firmly onto the table. “That’s probably best,” Buddy hissed, then turned and strode quickly out of the kitchen. Lexi stood with her heart pounding, watching Buddy pull on his boots and slam out the back door. Whoa! What was that all about? Not only was her heart pounding, but she wondered if menopause had snuck up a few years early. Damn, but she needed a shower. She pried the lid off the plastic container in her hand and fanned herself. “Hot tamale, girl. Get hold of yourself. This is Buddy Beckett we’re talking about,” she chastized herself. “Gawd, Lexi.” Buddy Beckett with that hot, summer sunshine smell to him. Buddy Beckett with blue eyes that reminded her of crisp, October skies and streaked, brown-blonde hair just long enough to give a March breeze something to play with. Buddy Beckett with a hard on so big she’d felt it 48

Locking Horns through his jeans. She grinned. So, the tight shorts and top worked. “Way to go, Cunningham. You’ll have him eating out of your hands in a week.” She hummed merrily, as she turned toward the godawful, ancient refrigerator. Staring at it for a minute, she wondered where the freezer compartment was. She was sure she’d seen one. The beast was curved on top, the single enamel door yellowed from age. Pulling on the long, silver handle reminded her of playing slots. “Aha!” There was the freezer. It was inside the main refrigerator, which was caked with ice all under the freezer and along the back wall. Lexi pried open the freezer door. It looked like a giant ice cube inside. “No wonder he wants somebody else to do this job. It must have been months since this thing was last defrosted.” Lexi found the cooler and, with a sigh, started unloading the refrigerator. Buddy headed back toward the tractor he’d left sitting in the barnyard. Beaver was hot on his trail. “Hey, boss. Ain’t that the little thing that’s doing community service for you?” “Yep.” “Whew-ee. She’s got to be the purtiest thing east of the Mississippi. You think you could introduce me to her, boss?” “I think you introduced yourself the other day, Beaver.” Buddy grinned. “You left your handprints all over her boobs. She was pretty pissed.” He pulled himself into the tractor seat. “If I were you, I think I’d let her forget about that before I go sniffing around.” “Aw, boss. That was an accident. I was just trying to help. Anyway, I want to ask her out. You think she’d go out with me?” Fat chance. “Well, Beaver, I suppose that’s up to her. But she’s a lot older than you. She’s got you by fourteen years.” Beaver stood silently for a minute and Buddy could see the gears grinding away upstairs. “She’s thirty-two, Beaver. You’re eighteen.” “Yeah. I guess you’re right then. Maybe she can teach me something,” he went on eagerly. 49

M. K. Trent Buddy had a vision of Lexi Cunningham teaching Beaver the complete delete version of some oriental kung fu stuff. Beaver would be laid out on his back, a daisy planted between his folded hands. Maybe she wouldn’t bother with the daisy. “Guess you’ll have to ask,” Buddy replied. He didn’t want to dampen Beaver’s spirits. Anyway, Beaver, for all his enthusiasm, was a little slow upstairs. He seemed to learn best in a hands-on situation where the direct correlation between what he did and what happened was obvious. Buddy grinned to himself and shook his head. Best let Beaver work this out on his own. **** With all the refrigerator items packed in the cooler, Lexi lifted the heavy pots, made heavier with hot water, into the freezer compartment and shut the door. The appliance was already unplugged, but it would no doubt take the whole morning to defrost. Hmmmm. “I wonder....” she mused. She headed upstairs to see if she could find a hairdryer. That would speed up the process and maybe she’d be finished early. And Buddy wouldn’t think she was such an incompetent. Not that it mattered what Buddy thought. She only had ninety-seven hours left and he’d be out of her life for good. The polished wood of the old staircase gleamed. In the reflected light from the big front window, Lexi noticed a buildup of dust in the corners. It looked like Buddy wasn’t much into housework. Though the place was relatively neat, it could use a good once or twice over with a dust cloth and vacuum cleaner. She rolled her eyes. That was probably her next assignment. Lexi found the bathroom directly at the top of the stairs. She poked her head inside and turned on the light. It looked like the bathroom had been a small bedroom at one time—it was huge. She envisioned a garden tub in the corner, a separate shower, a double sink vanity with huge mirrors and lots of light. Nothing like the spartan single sink with limeencrusted knobs, old toilet with rust stains, and a tub/shower combination in a horrible shade of blue. Yellow linoleum curled at the edge around the tub and 50

Locking Horns toilet. Two stark fluorscent lights hung by the side of the medicine cabinet, giving a death-like tint to even her tanned skin. In the corner of the room, the leg of a dusty pair of jeans hung out of the hamper. “Yuck! Men have no style at all.” At least Beckett could find the laundry hamper, even if he couldn’t get his clothes all the way inside. That small positive was canceled out by the soap scum in the sink. “So, if I were a hairdryer, where would I be?” There was a linen closet just inside the door. “I’d be in here.” Lexi opened the door to the linen closet. It was as sparsely populated as the rest of the room - three towels, two washcloths, a bottle of handsoap, a package of razor blades, and a bottle of mouthwash. A wicker laundry basket with a broken handle sat below the shelves. “Humph. Bedroom’s next.” There might have been four bedrooms upstairs at one time, but two rooms at the end of the hallway had been remodeled into one large master bedroom. Windows on three sides gave a light, airy feel to the room. But it was obviously a man’s room, as spartan as the bathroom had been. Buddy’s dark-wood, king-size bed sat on the wall opposite the doorway, framed on each side by windows. The green sheets were a tangled mess, intertwined with a patchwork quilt. A couple of bedside tables and a darkwood, highboy dresser were the only other pieces of furniture. Rag rugs in bright colors lay askew on the floor on either side of the bed and a ceiling fan picked up the warm air coming in the windows and sent it swirling. “Buddy Beckett’s bedroom. Be still my heart.” Never in her wildest imaginings did Lexi ever think she’d see the inner sanctum of Beckett’s room. But, here she was and, Gawd, her mind was doing a major Lexi-inWonderland tumble into the Beckett-hole. It probably had something to do with her earlier encounter with the Beckett-tool while she’d been smashed against the table. Would it be too deplorable to imagine a get-together with Buddy, right here in his tangled sheets? Probably. But that’s just where her mind was headed. Lexi stood rooted to the floor at the end of the bed, the hairdryer forgotten. Damn Beckett and Geeky-Beak 51

M. K. Trent for throwing her to the lions. She was too vulnerable right now, after realizing her life sucked. She wanted something more than the superficial, glitzy life she’d built. Lexi wanted life to be full of sunshine and daisies, smiling children, and passionate summer nights. Instead, she had unhappy clients trying to hold onto their youth, Phil Moreland’s preoccupation with sex and himself, bright lights, smokey cabarets, and an apartment without even a cat to keep her company. And the clock was ticking toward spinster-hood. If the idea of a close encounter of the sexual kind with Buddy Beckett didn’t actually solve her problem, at least she would have something spectacular to remember as she sat alone in her old age. “Get a grip, Lexi,” she muttered. “What makes you think sex with Beckett would be spectacular? Sheesh! He’s a redneck and a redneck’s idea of foreplay is watching professional wrestling.” Lexi pulled her mind and her eyes from the bed and scanned for hairdryer hiding places. Five drawers and a closet. She started with the closet, not wanting to explore Beckett’s underwear drawer if she didn’t have to. There it was, the first box on the shelf in front of her. “Well, that was easy.” Lexi reached up and pulled the box down. The contents shifted and it didn’t really feel like a hairdryer inside. She opened the end flap and peered inside. Pictures. Curious, Lexi pulled out a handful. They seemed to be from high school. There was a team picture of the Charles Town High debate team, signed by none other than Geeky-Beak. Another was a picture of Buddy as she remembered him—lanky, lean, and sporting hair that fell loosely to his shoulders. He had a guitar strapped over his shoulder and a can of Budweiser raised in salute. There were others of Buddy and his miscreant friends. A lot of people that looked like family. She recognized Lenny from the visit on Saturday evening. From the bottom of the box, she pulled out a yellowed, legal-size envelope. There was a faded red heart drawn over the flap. Lexi slowly opened the envelope and.... 52

Locking Horns “Gawd!” There were pictures of her, cut out of the yearbooks for the two years she’d gone to Charles Town High. Even the one of her in the crowd at a basketball game looking totally bored. She collapsed on the edge of Buddy’s bed and sorted through the pictures. There were folded pieces of paper tucked haphazardly in among the pictures. Lexi carefully opened one. It was so brittle, she was afraid it would rip at the folds. Smoothing it open, Lexi found a poem written in painstakingly neat handwriting. Alexis By Moonlight It’s dusk. I see your face touched by moonlight molten silver in the night. Trembling, I reach out to touch you, feel the warmth of your skin, the creamy softness of it under my fingertips. You lean into my touch, close your eyes and sigh a sound soft as a whisper of wind through pines. I would love you gently tonight, and every night. If you would but love me. B. Beckett Lexi’s breath caught in her throat. Buddy Beckett had written a poem for her. She stared at the cracked sheet of paper, then reverently folded it. She should stop right now. She had no right to snoop through Buddy’s private thoughts. But, she couldn’t help herself. She 53

M. K. Trent pulled another folded piece from the stack and carefully opened it. Invisible I stood next to you today and drank in the smell of your perfume heated by the warmth of your body. I wanted to show you how I could touch you with hands as gentle as a dove’s feather. But I only stared ahead and dreamed in silence, Invisible as the air you breathe. B. Beckett There were more—a total of six beautifully penned poems, all for her. “Gawd!” she repeated. Buddy Beckett really did have a crush on her back then. And she’d been so mean to him. Not that she’d wanted to date him—not hardly. But she’d been such a snot, looking down her nose at him. And all that time, he’d put her on some weird pedestal—like Aphrodite in a miniskirt. She wondered why he hadn’t burned the pictures and poems after what she’d said to him. Lexi tucked them back in the envelope and put it back in the box with the pictures. The overwhelming guilt kept her motionless on the edge of the bed. She wished she could re-do some of her life. Actually, a lot of her life. If she hadn’t been so sure she was better than everyone here, maybe her life would be different now. And maybe not. It wasn’t worth thinking about. There weren’t a lot of do-overs in life. Maybe in Solitare, but not in life. The picture of the hairdryer on the side of the box brought Lexi back to the problem at hand. If there was a hairdryer box, surely there must be a hairdryer. She carefully put the box back where she’d found it. The last 54

Locking Horns thing she needed was for Buddy to know she’d poked into the inner sanctum of his teenage heart. After rifling through most of Buddy’s closet, she found the hairdryer in the back on the floor, a pair of size eleven sneakers covering it up. Sastisfied, Lexi closed the closet doors and headed back downstairs. “Oh no!” There was a pool of water growing larger by the second on the kitchen floor. The refrigerator was obviously defrosting faster than she’d expected. She whipped open the door and a chunk of ice fell out, hitting her on the foot. “Ow!” She danced around holding her foot, splattering water everywhere. “Damn it!” She pulled open drawer after drawer in the kitchen looking for towels. Giving up, she ran upstairs to the bathroom and returned with all the towels in the linen closet, including the one hanging over the shower rod. Down on her hands and knees, Lexi mopped water as it dripped steadily from the refrigerator. Why hadn’t she thought to put a drip pan down? Sheesh! Even if she had, no doubt it would have run over. She’d been upstairs longer than she’d thought. A crash brought her up short. She looked toward the mudroom, expecting a still-irritated Buddy Beckett to be on his way in to chastise her for the latest mess she’d made. Instead, Randy the baby bull, was standing on the ruined screen door, snorting, and giving her the eye.

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Chapter 8 The Great Kitchen Massacre “I don’t have leather on,” Lexi yelled at Randy. That didn’t seem to have any effect on the calf. He shook his head at her, his budding horns reflecting light from the kitchen. “Shoo. Go away.” Lexi swung the towel she was holding at him, realizing all to late it was not only soaking wet but red. She wondered if cows could see color and if flashing a red towel was like throwing down the gauntlet. She didn’t have much time to think about it. Randy shoved his way through the doorway and into the kitchen. “Buddy,” Lexi screamed. She grabbed another wet towel from the floor and threw it at the calf. It landed with a splash on his head, catching on a tiny horn. Randy bellowed and swung his head, flinging a stream of water around the kitchen. The towel remained hooked on his horn. Lexi screamed again as she climbed onto the kitchen table. Randy snorted and head-butted a chair. It splintered apart, the majority of it hitting the refrigerator. “Buddy. Help!” From her vantage point on the table, Lexi could see through the window that help wasn’t coming any time soon. Buddy steadily trudged along in the field on his beat-up old tractor. He’d never know she was being mutilated by his mutant cow. Meanwhile, Randy the bull was nosing the trash can. It went over, and coffee grounds and yesterday’s boxed lasagna leftovers spilled all over the kitchen floor. The water flow from the refrigerator picked up the loose grounds and moved them slowly across the floor. “Mawwwwww.” Randy looked up at her with soulful eyes, his nostrils 56

Locking Horns flaring, ears twitching, and the towel still dripping from his left horn. “Mawwwwww.” “I’m not your Maw, you misguided little creep. Get out of here.” “Mawwwwww.” Lexi crouched down and gingerly touched the calf’s nose. It was pink and velvety soft. Randy pushed his nose against her hand and she backed off. Maybe he’d bite her. She didn’t want to lose a finger to a cow. How undignified would that be? “Buddy. Don’t you have to pee or something? Get off that damned tractor and come here,” Lexi hollered. Randy the bull made himself quite at home inspecting a piece of aluminum foil. He licked it clean, then moved on to a cereal box, jamming his nose inside. When he picked his head up, the box came too. It was stuck firmly on the end of his nose. That sent him on a rampage around the kitchen, smashing into chairs, banging into the cabinets, and splashing through the water puddled on the floor. Lexi crouched helplessly on the table, clutching a wet towel against her as if it would protect her from disaster. She watched the destruction continue, as the calf snorted, stomped, and bashed into everything in the kitchen, including the table. At one point, she was sure he would knock her off and she’d end up dead in the Great Kitchen Massacre of 2007. Finally, Randy dislodged the cereal box and headed for the bookshelf full of cookbooks. He pulled at the loose, flapping cover of one and the shelf went over. He jolted backwards, crashing through the trash on the floor. Even if the calf left right now, Lexi was sure she’d never get the mess cleaned up before Beckett came to check on her. This was worse than the tomato disaster. “Buddy, you better hurry up before there’s nothing left of your house,” Lexi moaned. **** Buddy drove the tractor down one row and up another. Planting corn was definitely a mindless job, thank God. He couldn’t stop thinking about Lexi. The smell of her perfume still permeated his brain, despite the 57

M. K. Trent dust he was raising. At least he wasn’t going to cut his finger off with a power saw or fall off the ladder to the hay loft. But banging his balls around on the rough tractor seat made him more miserable than when he climbed on the old International. Damn it. He had to get hold of his errant imagination and the emotional relapse that went with it. All the longing he’d felt those long years ago clutched at his stomach and made it flip-flop around like he’d swallowed a live toad. Mixed right in was the hurt and anger over Lexi’s rejection. He shouldn’t still feel this way. After all, he was planting corn on his own property, he had a thriving business and the respect of his peers—proof that Alexis Cunningham had been wrong about him. But, seeing her brought back all the insecurities that went hand-in-hand with teenage vulnerability. One minute, he felt helpless, the next he wanted his revenge. And then, he just wanted to jump her bones and love her until she screamed uncle. He had to face it - Lexi Cunningham had no more interest in him now than she had thirteen years ago. Unfortunately, he still had the same stupid hormones and they were just as riled up as when he was sixteen. His behavior in the kitchen was proof. It wouldn’t surprise him if Lexi filed a harrassment complaint with Eddie. After all, he’d left nothing to her imagination. The way her eyes widened, he knew she felt his hard-on. Buddy ran a hand over his face. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.” Lexi Cunningham made him come apart at the seams. Out of the corner of his eye, Buddy saw movement and then Beaver making tracks to keep out of his way. He pulled up short. What in hell was Beaver doing out here? He was supposed to be repairing the gate to the south pasture. “Boss. Boss. Hold up.” Beaver flailed his arms, a wild look in his eye. Of course, he’d just about been run down by Buddy and a couple tons of farm machinery. 58

Locking Horns “Sorry, Beav. What’s up?” “I lost Randy.” “Huh?” “Randy. That little weasle of a calf. You shoulda cut his nuts, Boss.” “How did you lose him?” “I was fixing the gate and he was right there, and then he wasn’t right there. I don’t know where he went. I swear he’s Houdini, Boss.” “He couldn’t have gotten far, Beav. Climb up here and let’s go find him.” Buddy was glad for the diversion. Planting corn gave him too much time to drool, moan, and tear himself apart over Lexi. As soon as he turned off the tractor in the yard, he knew exactly where Randy had gotten to. “Bu-u-u-u-d-e-e-e!” It was definitely Lexi screaming at the top of her lungs. Buddy headed toward the back door. It was missing. “What the....?” Buddy stopped short at the scene in front of him. His kitchen was completely topsy-turvy and Lexi was crouched on the table holding a soaking wet towel to her chest. “It’s about time you got here,” she screamed at him. “That, that....that animal is trying to kill me.” She flung one arm out, pointing at Randy who was currently tasting a curtain. The towel flapped in the air. Buddy couldn’t help staring at Lexi. Her already tight shirt stuck to her, leaving nothing to his imagination. The white fabric of her shirt clung to her body, outlining a skimpy bra overflowing with parts of Lexi Buddy had only dreamed about. Her very pert nipples stood out like two big rosebuds. Lexi must have noticed his interest because the wet towel hit him square in his face. “Get that animal out of here,” she demanded. Buddy tossed the towel aside. “Beaver. Get Randy,” he hollered. Beaver stood transfixed, his mouth open and his eyes glued to Lexi’s body. Buddy elbowed him and Beaver nearly fell over. 59

M. K. Trent “Shit!” Buddy grabbed Randy around his neck, forcing the animal to back off from the curtain. Unfortunately, the curtain came with him and both became engulfed in blue gingham. Randy bellowed, Buddy cursed and the two of them crashed into Beaver, sending him flying against the cabinets across the room. That seemed to wake Beaver from his stupified state. “Miss Lexi. Let me help you,” he said valiantly. He climbed on the table and pulled Lexi against him. She kneed him and they both fell to the floor, Lexi on top, Beaver smashed underneath her. Lexi landed hard. “Umph!” Beaver’s eyes nearly bulged from his head and he turned a ghastly shade of white. Lexi shoved off him, only to be butted in the ass by Randy and Buddy. She regained her balance, looked around at the disaster that used to be Buddy’s kitchen and ran outside. Randy tossed the curtain from his head and followed Lexi, dragging a still-cursing Buddy through the lasagna leftovers and coffee grounds. “Mawwwwwww. Mawwwwww.” Buddy let go rather than be dragged across the broken screen door. He sat up as Randy backed Lexi against the house. The little calf stared at her with soulful eyes. “Shit,” Buddy muttered. “The damned thing is in love with her.” She’s mine, you stupid piece of steak. “Lexi, just stay calm,” he ordered as he went outside. “Calm? I’m supposed to stay calm after the morning I’ve had? You’ve got to be nuts, Buddy Beckett. You ought to make veal out of this beast.” She pushed ineffectually at Randy’s little bull nose. “Just listen, damn it. If you walk toward the corral, Randy’s going to follow you. We can get him inside, if you just walk calmly over there.” Buddy pointed toward the corral where this had all started, not even a week ago. Had it been only a week—his life had been uneventful, his house and his emotions in one piece? He couldn’t seem to remember that far back. “Are you sure?” Lexi asked. “He won’t gore me or 60

Locking Horns anything, will he?” “He might butt against you or lick you to death, but he won’t intentionally hurt you.” Their eyes met and held for a minute. Her eyes were dark and sad. Buddy knew Lexi was remembering thirteen years ago, because that’s exactly where his mind was. Thirteen years ago she’d intentionally ripped his heart to shreds. Guilt. That’s exactly what Lexi felt when she looked into Buddy’s blue eyes. The hurt was still there after all these years. What a pissant she’d been, hoisting her nose in the air so high he could probably see right up into her brainless cranium. How could she have done that to Buddy? It was worse knowing he’d written her love poems. No one had ever written her love poems. And she’d mercilessly broken his heart. How could she spend another ninety-plus hours putting both of them through this? “Gawd, Buddy, this isn’t going to work, is it?” “It’s got to work.” “Okay,” she replied softly. Slowly, Lexi moved away from the wall. With cautious steps, she headed across the open yard toward the corral. There was nowhere to seek safety if Buddy was wrong about the calf. It made her knees weak to know this little fellow could really do some damage if he wanted to. Just look at Buddy’s kitchen. This was too much—her father’s stroke, the life she’d had to put aside to care for him, the terrifying time she’d spent trapped in the stall Friday by Bessie the milk cow and now this—the complete demolition of Buddy Beckett’s kitchen. And love poems, written by the boy-turned-man standing in front of her. Lexi felt like crying, but she’d be damned if she’d cry in front of Beckett. She blinked back her tears and thrust her chin out. “Come on you worthless piece of dog meat,” she muttered to Randy. “Get your mangy ass over here.” She pretended confidence and headed toward the corral, the calf following like an adoring puppy. She had to admit— he was kind of cute in a bovine sort of way. 61

M. K. Trent With Randy safely tucked away in the corral, Lexi slumped against the fence. She looked out over the field full of shiny-horned cattled, then back at Buddy. “I think your refrigerator is defrosted.” “No shit!” “No shit,” Lexi echoed. Buddy turned toward the house and Lexi noticed the piece of lasagna noodle stuck to the back of his head like Willie Nelson’s pony tail. Well, maybe not that long. She snickered. “What?” Lexi snickered again and pointed. Buddy spun around to see what she was pointing at and the noodle flew off his head, hitting Lexi’s thigh. She picked the noodle off her leg and tossed it toward Randy in the corral. She glanced at her watch. “I’ve still got another hour. What do you suppose I can destroy next?” Buddy sighed and shook his head. “Christ, Lexi. I don’t think I’m going to survive another ninety-four hours of this.” Beaver stumbled out of the house just then, one hand holding his crotch. His hair stood out from his head like he'd used an entire tube of gel. It was most likely left-over lasagna cheese. He took one look at Lexi, hauled himself upright and limped quickly toward the barn. Buddy laughed. “I guess Beaver just discovered the consequences of one of his dumber moves.” “He gets any dumber, he’s likely to end up dead,” Lexi retorted. Back at the house, Buddy picked up the pieces of his screen door, the chair, the trash can, the curtains, the bookshelf, and cookbooks. Lexi swept up the trash, mopped the floor, and wrung the towels in the sink. From under a pile of cookbooks, Buddy pulled his hairdryer. “Hey, Cunningham. Where did this come from?” He held it up for her to see. “Oh, it was under your shoes in the closet.” “The closet in my bedroom?” Lexi looked away and pretended like it was common practice for her to raid Buddy’s bedroom, hoping he wouldn’t guess she’d raided more than his room. “Yeah. That one.” 62

Locking Horns He stood, challenging her. “And what exactly were you doing in my bedroom?” “Looking for the hairdryer,” she answered as nonchalantly as possible. She left out the part about imagining the two of them in Buddy’s bed. And of course, reading the poems. “And?” He waited, the hairdryer pointing at her like a 57 Magnum. Lexi gave an exasperated huff and kept mopping. “It’s much quicker to use heat to melt the ice. I went looking for your hairdryer, so I could get the job done faster. While I was looking, the refrigerator defrosted.” “Hmmmm. You were looking so long the refrigerator defrosted?” He narrowed his eyes. “What took so long?” Lexi stopped wringing the red towel and gave Buddy an irritated look. “I couldn’t find the hairdryer. You had it so well hidden under your clodhoppers, it was hard to find.” “I don’t use it much,” he replied. “What else did you go through besides my closet?” His lips curled upward, a suspicious-looking smirk on his face. Lexi sniffed and turned away. “If you think I pawed through your underwear, Beckett, you’re crazy. I wouldn’t touch your underwear even if it was clean.” “Even if it was on me?” he asked wickedly. The red towel hit him square in the face again. “Dream on, Harlan Beckett.” Lexi picked a soggy Hungry Man dinner from the sink. “I found this in the freezer. You want it for lunch?” Buddy cocked his head to the side. “You cooking?” “Hardly. You want this, you nuke it yourself. I'm not your maid.” “Thank God!” Buddy exclaimed. “I'd need disaster insurance. Come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea.” “Shut up, Beckett. This wasn't my fault. If that juvenile you have working for you would pay more attention to what he's doing, this might not have happened.” Buddy took the dripping TV dinner from her and tossed it in the trash. “What about the water damage? That wasn't his fault.” 63

M. K. Trent “That could have happened to anybody,” Lexi replied defiantly. “It could have happened to you, if you hadn't thought it was so much fun to make me do your dirty work.” “It wouldn't happen to me. I wouldn't go prowling through somebody's bedroom while I was supposed to be working. You owe me on this, Cunningham.” Lexi folded her arms and rolled her eyes. “Sheesh! So, what do you want? My right arm? My firstborn?” “A date.” Lexi slowly swiveled her head and stared at Buddy. “If you were the last man....” “I've already heard that speech, babe, so just can it. Come with me tonight to open mic night in Frederick and I'll call us even.” “How about I nominate Wanda to take my place?” Lexi countered. “How about you pay your own debts, Alexis.” Lexi sighed and dropped her arms to her sides. “I have to take care of Dad tonight. Sorry. There's nobody else.” It took a minute before Buddy answered. He seemed to weigh her answer, trying to decide if she was telling the truth. “Okay. But it's an outstanding debt until you pay up.” “Fair enough.” Lexi looked pointedly at the clock over the table. “I've got to get going. I'm late. Maria's probably wondering if I died and went to bovine hell by now.” She picked up her purse off the counter. “See you Wednesday?” “Yeah,” Buddy muttered. “Wednesday.” He followed her out the door. “I'll decide what I can afford to have destroyed.” Lexi wheeled on him. “Damn it, Buddy. I'm not incompetent. This is just not the world I'm used to. I'll get better with a little experience, okay? So just back off the snide remarks.” “PMS?” Buddy asked with a raised eyebrow. “You wouldn't want to see me with PMS,” she declared, giving him a dark look. Lexi slammed the door on her little convertible, 64

Locking Horns cranked the engine, and threw dirt as she sped away, leaving Buddy with a gut-full of ambiguous feelings. His first inclination was to go upstairs and see if her perfume still lingered in his bedroom. How pathetic was that? And then, there was the self-loathing for trying to buy a date with Lexi. That was just as pathetic. He felt the anger boiling up inside—anger at Lexi, anger at himself for letting her walk all over his heart again. He turned toward the corral. “You can have her, you stupid cow,” he hollered. **** Lexi killed the engine and ran quickly inside calling, “Maria?” She found Maria in the kitchen cutting a tomato. Sandwich meat and bread sat on the counter. “Sorry I’m late.” “Ray wanted lunch,” Maria answered as she finished cutting the tomato. She laid the slices on a plate. “I figured you’d be along.” Lexi pulled bread out of the bag and placed it on a tray. “It was another disaster. I almost got killed by a bull.” Maria gave her a knowing smile. “Like last week?” Lexi removed sliced turkey from the plastic bag, placed it on a plate, then snatched a piece back to nibble on. “Oh, come on, Maria. That’s not fair. How was I to know the females have horns?” She snatched a tomato slice and downed it. “Anyway, it was a real bull this time. He broke down the door while I was defrosting Buddy’s refrigerator.” “Oh, so now you’re into domestic things at the Beckett place. Next thing you know, you’ll be cooking his meals and doing his laundry,” Maria teased. She grabbed the plate of tomatoes as Lexi reached for another slice. “Save some for the sandwiches.” “There’s no way I’d wash his underwear,” Lexi replied indignantly. “He had me slaving over this old relic of a refrigerator, when his little bull stormed the fort. I had to climb onto the table to save myself.” Maria rolled her eyes. “Little bull?” “Well, yeah. He’s about this high.” Lexi held her hand at her chest. “But he’s dangerous,” she added vehemently. 65

M. K. Trent “He tore the kitchen to shreds before Buddy wrestled him to the ground. Well, sort of wrestled him to the ground. More like got wrapped up in the curtains with him.” She giggled. “It was kind of funny, watching the two of them roll around in the lasagna cheese on the floor.” Maria shook her head. “You’d be better off teaching aerobics to his cattle.” “With my luck, they’d get carried away and I’d get killed in a stampede. Where’s Dad?” “On the back porch. We’ll eat out there today. It’s too pretty to stay indoors.” “Ditto that. Might as well enjoy the day while we can. The physical therapist will be here at 2:00 p.m. and you know how much Dad loves that.” Maria picked up the plate of turkey and headed for the door. “And then you promised to help him with his speech, remember?” “Yeah. One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.” She followed Maria, carrying the tray of bread and a pitcher of lemonade. “It really helps, though. Haven’t you noticed?” Maria asked, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ve noticed. But, the progress is so slow. I can see how frustrated and depressed he gets. I wish there was more I could do to help.” “Smile and keep smiling,” Maria whispered. “Keeps his spirits up.” She pushed the door open. “I found your errant daughter, Ray. She’s been bull-fighting at Buddy Beckett’s.” Ray’s eyes fell on the plates of food as Lexi and Maria set them on the table. “Peach,” he said slowly. “Real close, Dad,” Lexi replied. She took Maria’s advice and flashed a big smile at her father. “Lunch.” **** Beaver shook his head. “I just don’t understand women, Boss.” Buddy laughed. “There isn’t a man alive who does, Beav, so don’t worry about it.” “Yeah, but, gosh. I was just tryin’ to help. She didn’t have to gimme the knee. Man, I’m still hurtin’. What if I’m done in for life? I mean, I ain’t had enough yet to be done in.” 66

Locking Horns “Is there a time when a man’s had enough to not care if he’s done in?” Buddy asked with a grin. “You got a point there, Boss.” Beaver got up and made his way slowly out of the barn. What was wrong with that Cunningham woman that she was so downright hateful? Not just to him, but to the Boss, too. He’d seen the look on Buddy’s face when he’d first seen her. Like he was a love-struck idiot. And then, pulling a complete one-eighty, he’d set out to give her shit jobs on the place. There was something going on and, for the life of him, Beaver couldn’t figure it out.

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Chapter 9 The Eyes Have It Buddy went to dinner at his parents’ house on Tuesday evening. It was Lenny’s oldest son’s birthday and a good part the family was there. Buddy seldom missed family gatherings. You never knew what kind of entertainment you’d miss if you didn’t come. And, it beat nuking something for himself at home. It was crowded at the big farm table that nearly filled the dining room of Charlene and Harlan’s old farmhouse. Patty sat at a separate table tucked in the corner with Lenny’s kids, picking through the mixed vegetables. She separated the peas from the corn and the carrots from the green peppers. Suddenly, she looked over at Buddy. “Bubby, does Lex like carrots?” Taken by surprise, Buddy glanced at his mother before answering. “I don’t know, Patty.” He hadn’t thought Patty would remember Lexi. Maybe Ray and his wheelchair, but not Lexi. “Lex?” Charlene asked, her eyebrows raised at Buddy. “Lex is purty,” Patty interrupted. “An’ Misser Ham has a chair with wheels. I want a chair with wheels.” Finished with the vegetable separation, she started eating the peas, picking them up one by one with her stubby little fingers and placing them on the fork. Buddy cleared his throat. “Alexis Cunningham. She’s doing community service at my place.” “Where did you meet Lex?” Buddy’s mother asked Patty. “Store,” Patty replied, poking the last pea onto one of the fork tines. “Bubby’s gonna marry her. Right after he marries me.” “Got a girlfriend?” Harlan asked his son. He gave Buddy a knowing wink. “No!” 68

Locking Horns Lenny’s son, Billy, interrupted the conversation. “I want more taters. Can I have more taters?” “Here.” Donna passed the bowl of mashed potatoes to the other table. “She’s real pretty,” Lenny said. Donna glared at him and he added, “In a city-girl kinda way.” He leaned over and kissed Donna’s cheek. “Not as pretty as they grow ‘em here in West Virginia.” “Lex is comin’ to our house,” Patty announced through a mouthful of carrots. “Oh. Nice to know that. When’s she coming? Before or after the wedding?” Charlene asked Buddy. Everybody stopped and stared at him. Buddy made a show of licking the barbeque sauce from his fingers. “When pigs fly,” he said. “On both accounts.” “Pigs fly?” Patty asked. “Our pigs fly?” “No, honey,” Charlene said with a laugh. “You shouldn’t confuse her, Buddy,” she added softly. “She’s already confused,” Buddy replied. “Lexi Cunningham isn’t invited here and there’s no wedding. It’s all in Patty’s head.” “So, is there something wrong with inviting this girl here?” Harlan asked. “I mean, is there something wrong with us that you don’t want to invite her over?” Another lull in the conversation, as all the adults turned accusing eyes on Buddy. “Daddy, she’s Ray Cunningham’s daughter. You know? Of Charlemane Thoroughbreds. Do you really think she’d want to come over here?” “Well, why not? Are you ashamed of us?” “Of course I’m not ashamed. But she’s got her nose so far in the air, you can see her adenoids. If you want me to, I’ll invite her. But I’ll bet she won’t come.” “Is Add Noids a new video game?” Billy asked. “No, and if it was, you couldn’t have it. You’ve already got enough games. Eat your taters and wipe the barbeque off your face,” Donna replied. “I swear, all those kids wanna do is play electronic games anymore. What ever happened to hopscotch and marbles?” “Momma, I like hopscotch,” Ari answered. With a smug look at her brother, Billy, she added, “I got it on the 69

M. K. Trent computer.” “See what I mean?” Later that evening, as the kids played hide and seek in the back yard and the family talked on the big front porch, Charlene quietly took Buddy aside to the big vegetable garden. “Heard your tomatoes got wiped out. Thought you might want to transplant a few of ours. We’ve got more than enough.” “I could do that, Momma. Thanks.” Charlene leaned over and pulled a weed. “Nice Beefsteaks and a few Early Girls. We tried some of those yellow tomatoes this year, too. Add a little color to the table.” “You want to talk about tomatoes, Momma?” “Yeah. Tomatoes.” She stood up and wiped her hands on her apron. “Tell me about this Alexis Cunningham. Her name sounds familiar to me.” Buddy rolled his eyes. The inquisition had started. “I knew her in high school. She transferred in during my sophomore year.” “You two have something going on back then I didn’t know about?” Buddy laughed softly. “I had a lot of things going on back then you didn’t know about, but Lexi wasn’t one of them.” Charlene gave him the eye, then moved to the row of frilly, crisp leaf lettuce. “So why is she working at your place?” Buddy stayed where he was, crossing his arms and leaning back on his heels. He watched his mother sort through the lettuce, picking just the most tender leaves. “Speeding ticket. Eddie Ruckenbeak was going to take her license away, but she needs it to take care of her daddy. He had a stroke. Anyway, Eddie seemed to think she needed a little come-uppance training, so he sent her to me.” “Hmmmm. Come-uppance training? What’s that mean?” Buddy chuckled. “She’s shoveling manure and stuff like that.” “I see. So, because she has her nose so far in the air you can see her adenoids, she needs to shovel manure? Is 70

Locking Horns that what you’re telling me?” Buddy looked down at his feet, then out over the garden. “I suppose.” Charlene straightened up, pulled her apron into a sling and deposited the lettuce leaves. “Couldn’t be about something that happened in high school, could it?” Buddy sighed. Momma never missed a cue. And, she’d know right off if he lied to her. “She sort of snubbed us then. Like we were dirt under her feet—me and Eddie both. So, it’s kind of about high school. But she’s still pretty uppity.” Charlene nodded. “Long time to hold a grudge, Buddy.” She caught Buddy’s eyes and he felt them burning into his. He suddenly felt foolish. There were more important things in life than pay-backs for something that happened years ago. And anyway, he guessed that Lexi, despite all her posturing to the contrary, felt at least a twinge of guilt at who she’d been back then. He’d seen it in her eyes yesterday morning. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied softly. “Which tomatoes you want me to take?” “These here on the end. There’s a box in the mud room to put them in.” “Thanks, Momma.” Buddy followed his mother into the house, found the box and got a shovel from the shed. Halfway through digging the tomatoes, he saw his father heading his way. Part two of the inquisition. “Take a few of those zucchini, too,” Harlan said, pointing down the garden. “Your momma always gets carried away and we have squash coming out the wazoo. We still got twelve jars of it in the cellar from last year.” “What am I supposed to do with squash?” Buddy asked. “I don’t cook.” “No,” Harlan replied. “That’s what you need a woman for.” Buddy chuckled. His father wasn’t particularly chauvinistic. He just knew if it wasn’t a pig roasting on a spit, he couldn’t cook it. Buddy carefully set another plant in the box and made sure the roots were covered with soil. “I’d rather 71

M. K. Trent starve to death, Daddy. You get yourself a lot more than a cook with a woman.” “Don’t I know it. Now take your momma, for instance. She’s quite a woman. She can scale a fish, slaughter a pig, powder a baby’s butt, and make love like no other woman I know.” Buddy glanced up at his father. “Too much information, Daddy.” Harlan waved away his comment. “You’re old enough to handle it, son. I know you been in the hay with more than one woman.” Buddy stood up and surveyed the garden. “Being in the hay with a woman is a whole lot different than hearing about your parents’ love life.” “What’s up with the Cunningham woman? She can’t cook?” Buddy shook his head and shoved the tip of the shovel in the ground near the next tomato plant. “I don’t even want to find out. She’s been to the place twice and left a path of destruction wider than Aunt Betty’s butt. I even gave her something simple to do—defrost the refrigerator. By the time she was done, my kitchen looked like a tornado had been through it.” “Did the refrigerator get defrosted?” Buddy stared at his father. “That’s not the point.” “Yuh-huh. She got the job done you asked her to do, right? You just got to give her room to make a few mistakes in the beginning.” Buddy reached down and snatched the loose tomato plant from the ground. The plant swung wildly from his hand, scattering dirt. “I couldn’t afford to have her around full-time. In a simple six hour span, she let the cattle out, the garden got smashed to pieces, my office got destroyed, my kitchen was flooded and then torn to shreds. Not to mention, she snooped through my bedroom,” he replied. “I’ve still got ninety-four hours to go. I won’t have a ranch left by the time she’s done.” “Huh. Coming from money, she’s probably not used to doing manual labor. You’ve got to supervise fancy folk a lot. But once they get the hang of it, they’re just as good as the rest of us.” Buddy’s father nodded his head in agreement with himself. “Bring her by. We’ll work on 72

Locking Horns her.” He turned and walked away. “Don’t forget those zucchini plants,” he hollered over his shoulder. Bring her by. Buddy rolled his eyes. That’s the last thing Buddy wanted to do. Lexi Cunningham would no doubt have some derrogatory remark for each and every one of his family members. Sure, they had their faults—everybody did. But they were his family, and he wasn’t about to subject them to Lexi’s opinion of West Virginians and rednecks. He loved them too much for that. He would make excuses. After all, that’s what Lexi was doing—making excuses for not going with him last night. He guessed maybe it was legitimate. Taking care of her father was her first obligation. It was like having Patty around. You couldn’t just up and go somewhere without making adjustments. Buddy finished with the tomato plants, then took two of the zucchini. They were nice looking plants and he could give the end result to Lexi when her ninety-four hours were up. She’d probably think he was being obscene, though, considering the squash looked suspiciously like objects women enjoyed. As Buddy approached the house, Patty jumped out from behind a bush where she’d been hiding during the latest round of hide and seek. She was usually the first found because she always jumped out when someone walked by. The fact that somebody else was supposed to find her totally eluded her. “Gotcha, Bubby,” she yelled with glee. “Whoa! You scared the pants off me,” Buddy replied with feigned fright. “Nope, I didn’t. You still got your pants on.” “Guess so.” He laughed. “Want to help me carry the tomatoes?” “Yep.” Buddy lowered the box and let Patty carry one end. They put the plants on the front seat of his truck, then Buddy took Patty’s hand as they walked back to the house. “When is Lex comin’ to our house? I wanna give her the lacey things.” 73

M. K. Trent “Lacey things? What lacey things?” Lenny asked from his place on the wide porch steps. “Yeah, Buddy. You got her lacey things? I wanna see them too.” It was his cousin, Dooley Smith. Patty chimed in. “We got her lacey things at the store.” “Whew, Buddy. You sure move fast,” Lenny said with a boisterous laugh. “I coulda sworn she’s only been at your place a couple of times. Guess that’s why we had to jump to her rescue Saturday night.” Buddy was glad it was dark. Heat rose from his toes to the top of his head. Patty’s basic innocence drove him nuts. Right now, he was sorry he’d ever run into Lexi Cunningham at Wal-Mart or bought the damned underwear. He still had it and the receipt. He should just take the stuff back and be done with it. But, he wasn’t sure how to go about explaining to Patty, without making her cry, that there wasn’t anything between him and Lexi. She was dead set on the woman being part of their lives. All Buddy could think of to say was, “Shut up, Lenny.” He pushed past the group of chuckling men and disappeared inside. “Bubby’s gonna marry her,” Patty said with an air of authority. “How you know that, sweetheart?” Lenny asked, pulling a piece of honeysuckle from her tangled hair. “’Cause I want him to.” “I think Buddy has to make that decision himself, Patty.” “He already has. He just don’t know it.”

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Chapter 10 Who Flung Poo? Lexi’s little sports car didn’t fly up the lane like it had before. Buddy thought she was probably reluctant to come back, considering what had already happened. Lexi parked and got out. She was dressed a little differently this time—tight cut-offs, a blue tank top, sneakers, and ankle socks. No perfume. Still hot. “So what today, oh cruel and callous leader?” Buddy pointed to the field where the pile of manure had grown to substantial proportions. Lexi turned toward him, open-mouthed and speechless. Buddy laughed. “You guessed it, honey. Shit detail.” Lexi’s shoulders sagged and Buddy immediately felt sorry he’d teased her. Damn, but this wasn’t as much fun as he’d anticipated. “I think this will take the remaining ninety-four hours.” Lexi stuck her keys in her pocket and headed toward the barn. “Hey, hold up.” Buddy took her by the shoulders and turned her toward the equipment shed. “This way.” That was the wrong thing to do—touching Lexi. Her skin was smooth, soft, and inviting as a swimming hole on a hot summer afternoon. For one instant, he considered what it would be like to hold her in his arms. Not that he hadn’t inagined it a lot of times before. But touching her brought Lexi from his imagination into reality. He struggled for composure as she turned around. Whoa! Wildcat! Lexi shoved his hands away and growled, “Don’t lay a finger on me, you gorilla.” Buddy threw his hands up. “Fine. If you want to move it all with a shovel, go ahead.” He strode quickly toward the corral. 75

M. K. Trent “Wait.” Lexi ran after him. “What do you mean? Is there a better way?” Buddy stopped and turned. “There’s always a better way, Lexi.” Their eyes met and held. Lexi looked away first. “So, tell me about this better way.” “How about I show you.” Buddy pointed toward the equipment shed. “That way.” Inside the shed, he moved to the Bobcat. “This is the better way.” Lexi chuckled. “After what I did before, you want to let me loose with this?” “Not exactly. I’m not leaving you alone to destroy anything. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll stay around this time.” Yowsa! Buddy Beckett for three hours straight? Lexi wasn’t sure she could last that long with the man. Particularly not if he put his warm, work-roughened, hands on her again. She’d done nothing but fantasize about him for the last forty-eight hours, despite trying to fill her time with anything else. She’d even dreamed about him—something with tangled sheets and heat that she couldn’t quite remember, but couldn’t quite forget either. She blew out a long breath. “Okay. Is this the sports model of a loader?” “Kind of.” Buddy hopped up in the seat and fired up the engine. “Where are we moving the pile of crap?” Lexi hollered over the sputtering engine. “To the manure spreader, then to the field.” “We’re throwing shit around?” Buddy grinned. “Kind of like letting the shit hit the fan. Doesn’t your daddy do this?” Lexi shrugged. “I guess. I keep out of the every day farm stuff. He’s got other people to handle it.” “So what do you do all day? Just take care of your daddy?” “It’s a full-time job, Buddy. He can’t do much for himself.” Not yet anyway. Lexi had been looking for a miracle cure for her father. She may have found it—a new-fangled therapy program that produced miraculous 76

Locking Horns results in just months, compared to the years of regular physical therapy most stroke victims had to endure. She was waiting for a call back from Johns Hopkins neurology department. Buddy interrupted her thoughts “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was nothing. I know how much you have to do for him. I just wondered why you didn’t get involved with the farm. That’s all.” Lexi stared out across Buddy’s fields. “I hate the farm,” she murmured. “What?” he hollered over the engine. “Nothing. I’m not into horses and racing and all that stuff.” “Oh. Well, today, we’re knee deep in shit. That’s what we’re into.” He grinned again, a smile that could melt the polar icecaps. This close up, Lexi could see the beginnings of laugh lines around his eyes, and tiny beads of perspiration collecting on his brow, just under a sunstreaked lank of sandy brown hair. “Bob is going to help us,” Buddy continued, patting the piece of equipment. “Bob. How original.” “Yeah. I thought so. Okay. Lesson number one.” Buddy pointed to the two foot pedals. “Don’t rest your feet on these. They move the bucket around and you could dump shit everywhere you don’t want to.” Lexi leaned over and looked. “Why didn’t they just strap them to your feet?” she asked. “After all, they’re right where people with normal skeletal structure rest their feet when they sit.” Buddy looked down at the peddles. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I pointed them out first.” He grabbed the two levers on either side of him. “These are for steering. Push forward to go forward. Push back to go back. Because Bob is on tracks, you can turn by pushing less or more on either lever. Move and I’ll show you.” Lexi backed away and Buddy gave her a demo. It didn’t look all that hard. She’d just have to remember about those foot pedals. “Okay,” she hollered. “I guess it’s my turn.” Buddy pointed toward the field and headed toward 77

M. K. Trent the gate. Lexi ran ahead and opened it. She followed the Bobcat as Buddy moved away from the fence. “Oh, damn. The gate.” Lexi ran back and latched the gate. It didn’t look like there were cows in this field today, but she’d already learned her lesson about gates. You never left one open. Buddy brought the Bobcat to a stop and shut it off. “All yours, Ms. Cunningham. Play around with it a little out here, before you try messing with the manure.” Lexi climbed up and gingerly turned the key. The little engine roared to life. Within a few minutes, she’d figured out the steering. It wasn’t so hard. With the bucket controls at her feet, her hands were free to keep the machine going in the right direction. “Piece of cake,” she hollered to Buddy, who had climbed to the top rail of the fence. “Try the bucket,” he hollered back. Carefully, Lexi pushed the right pedal. The bucket rose slowly upwards. When it was eye-level, she pushed the left pedal and watched the bucket tip. “Got it,” she yelled, grinning from ear to ear. This was going to be an easy couple of hours of work. She lowered the bucket and steered the Bobcat toward the pile of manure. “Look out shit. Here I come.” Buddy opened the gate for her, moving well to the side. “Scared I’ll run over your ass, Beckett?” “Yep.” Lexi played with the machine, picking up buckets of manure, then dumping them to get the feel of the load. Buddy hooked the spreader to the tractor and pulled it nearby. Lexi’s first two bucketfuls landed beautifully, right in the middle of the spreader. Unfortunately, getting a bit cocky combined with a flirty little glance at Buddy did her in. With the bucket full and the Bobcat moving backwards, she began to spread the next load all over the yard. She saw the bucket tip out of the corner of her eye. Trying to right the bucket, she quickly let up on the pedal and the bucket tipped up suddenly. She overcorrected and before she knew it, the little Bobcat was bucking like the mechanical bull at Gilly’s. 78

Locking Horns Buddy leaped off the fence and hollered. “Shut it off.” Good idea. Lexi reached for the key just as the machine lurched again. She grabbed the right lever and the Bobcat did a one-eighty. “Holy shit!” Literally. Buddy was being baptized in shit. The manure in the bucket flew everywhere as the Bobcat spun. Maybe it was the insane picture she had of herself dumping manure all over Buddy Beckett; or maybe it was the knowledge that she was probably going to die. But, Lexi couldn’t help herself as laughter boiled up inside her and burst out in frantic giggles. “Lexi. This isn’t funny.” Buddy ran an eratic path around her and the Bobcat, flailing his arms and spitting manure. The Bobcat bucked Lexi up and down on the seat, jarring her bones every time she landed. If she didn’t get the thing stopped soon, she was going to get thrown off. That thought was enough to sober her up. She made a successful grab for the key, just as the Bobcat plowed through the fence. The silence was deafening as the beast came to a stop. Buddy spit again. Still crouched over, leaning his hands on his knees, he screwed his head around and looked up at her. “You’re a menace.” “You’re a shithead.” They both realized she was right—literally. Buddy laughed first. “Christ! What am I going to do with you?” “You think I could make the rodeo circuit?” Buddy brushed as much of the manure off as he could. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “Why don’t I load the spreader and you drive the tractor around the field.” “Oh, great. It’s not bad enough I smash your fence to pieces with this little thing. Now you want me to drive something bigger. You sure you’re not out of your mind, Beckett?” Buddy stood with his hands on his hips. “No. I’m not sure of anything right now, except this job has to get done. It looks like it might rain tomorrow and the tractor will sink in the mud if it does. I don’t have much choice, do I?” 79

M. K. Trent Lexi climbed down from the Bobcat and surveyed the damaged fence. “I guess we need to fix this fence. After all, I wouldn’t want Randy or his uncles and aunts to get loose again.” “The fence can wait. The cattle are in the north field. Let’s get this job finished.” He climbed onto the tractor and motioned Lexi to follow. “Key. Steering wheel. Gear shift. Gas pedal. Brake. Just like a car. All you have to do is pull this lever and the manure spreader will do its thing. Got it?” “How fast will it go?” Buddy rolled his eyes. “If you’d been driving this, you never would’ve gotten a ticket. ‘Nuff said?” Lexi nodded. “’Nuff said. I’ll keep it to a slug’s pace, okay?” “Good idea.” An hour later, Lexi was enjoying her ride around the field. The sun had climbed high above the trees that separated this field from the one where most of the cattle lazily grazed. The steady rumble of the tractor lulled her into complacency. None of her friends in Baltimore—not even her best friend Carrie—would believe Lexi Cunningham would ever drive a tractor, let alone spread cow crap around Buddy Beckett’s field. She could hardly believe it herself. What had her life come to? Solitude. Out here, there wasn’t much besides cows and solitude. In Baltimore, there was constant noise and even when she was alone, there wasn’t exactly solitude. Maybe on Sunday mornings, when the Harbor had yet to wake up and greet the day. But it didn’t take long before the hustle-bustle of the city took over. She didn’t think the cows in the adjoining field had any clue about hustling and bustling. They seemed content to wander aimlessly around the field munching grass and swatting flies. Lexi pulled in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of dirt, animals, grass, and sunshine. For a moment—and only a moment—she wondered if this was what paradise might be like. Did they fling poo in Paradise? Probably not. Lexi noticed Buddy standing by the much smaller manure pile. He was motioning her over. She glanced at 80

Locking Horns her watch—maybe it was time to go. “Hey. The spreader’s been empty for the last two rounds of the field,” Buddy hollered. “It has?” Lexi looked behind and watched the mechanism turn. There was nothing in the bed of the spreader. “Yep. You zone out on me?” Lexi gave him a small, embarrassed smile. “Guess so. It’s a pretty day.” “It is a right pretty morning. I can’t disagree with that.” He smiled at her. “You had enough of shitslinging?” “I guess. What about the rest of this?” She motioned toward the manure pile. “I’ll get Beaver to finish it. I need a shower. Can’t stand the way I smell right now.” Lexi killed the engine and climbed down from the tractor. “Shew-eeee. You’re definitely ripe.” She wiggled her backside. “My butt’s numb.” “You want me to massage it?” Buddy asked with a twinkle in his eye and a sly upturn of his mouth. “You want a black eye, Beckett?” Halfway across the yard, Randy the bull appeared from behind the grain silo. He eyed Buddy and snorted. “How the hell did he get out?” Lexi shrugged. “Don’t ask me. He’s your bull.” Before Buddy could react, Randy lowered his head and, with flared nostrils, let out a challenging bellow and charged.

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Chapter 11 Cows on Parade Lexi moved quicker than Buddy. She turned in time to see Randy butt Buddy a good one, hitting him on his right thigh. Buddy went down and rolled away before Randy could do any more damage. And then, there was Randy, staring at her with those big, brown, soulful eyes, his nostrils wide as if he were drinking in the scent of her. “Mawwwww.” Lexi’s insides trembled as she waited for the worst. Randy just stood there, his ears twitching, a stupid, bovine look on his face. “Shoo.” Well, that was ineffective. The calf didn’t move. “Why do you keep doing this, you big old piece of veal?” She reached out and gingerly touched his nose. It was soft and warm and Randy’s eyes started to close as she rubbed it gently. Behind Randy, Buddy slowly got to his feet. He looked pissed. “Beaver’s right. I should have castrated you when I had the chance.” Randy looked around and snorted as if to say, “Back off.” “I think he has a thing for you, Lexi.” “A thing? How can a cow have a thing for a person? He should be making eyes at Bessie or Elsie or whoever’s out there in the field with him.” She gave a resigned sigh. “Come on, you silly beast. Let’s go to the corral—again.” Lexi moved slowly toward the corral. Randy followed like an adoring puppy. But when Buddy began limping behind them, he turned and lowered his head menacingly, pawing the ground. Buddy stopped. “I get the picture, you little meatball.” Randy was finally corralled and Buddy headed toward the house, favoring his right leg. He muttered 82

Locking Horns curses under his breath. “Hey, what should I do now? I’ve still got a half hour.” She watched the smirk take over his face. “You could come scrub the crap out of my hair.” “Fat chance, Beckett.” “Go out with me this weekend, then. You still owe me for the kitchen disaster and now you really owe me.” He stood waiting for an answer, a guarded look on his face. “Look, Buddy. Let’s just keep this business. Okay?” “You owe me, one way or the other.” Lexi tipped her chin up and crossed her arms defiantly. “We didn’t shake on it.” “The way I see it, your word is your word. It doesn’t require a handshake.” Buddy’d called her honor into question. Sneaky of him. Lexi dropped her hands to her sides, let out a long breath, and focused on Randy in the corral. “I don’t know when I can go out with you. I never know what’s going to happen with Dad, I’m waiting for a call from Johns Hopkins Hospital and....” She paused uneasily and inspected her nails. Regaining her bravado, she looked up at Buddy. “And I have a hangnail that’s probably going to get infected because of all this dirty work I’ve been doing around here. What if I lose my finger to some horrendous infection?” “Then sue me, sweetheart. You won’t get out of this. I always get what’s due me.” Buddy gave her one last look and headed toward the door. He stopped and turned. “Oh, since I don’t have anyone to supervise you while I shower, you might as well go home.” Buddy disappeared inside. Lexi stood and contemplated just how she was going to get out of the date with Buddy Beckett. Maybe she should just go and get it over with. How bad could it be? Hmmmmm. Bad. Probably some country western bar with a bunch of rednecks getting drunk and beating each other with pool cues. When she got home, Lexi went out on the veranda, called her friend Carrie, and explained her dilemma. “What am I going to do?” she asked. 83

M. K. Trent “You’ve been out with a lot of duds and lived through it. What’s so different about this?” Lexi paced back and forth on the wide, wooden deck. “He’s not exactly a dud, Carrie. He’s got a smart-alec attitude, but he’s actually kind of nice in a farmer sort of way.” Carrie laughed. “Exactly what is a farmer sort of way?” “Well, how about plays with cows. He has a bumper sticker that says ‘My Other Car is a John Deere’. And, I’ll bet he has a farmer’s tan. You know, red neck, brown arms, and lilly white chest. He wears a cowboy hat, drives a pickup, and wrote love poems to me when he was in high school.” “Whoa! He wrote you love poems? You didn’t tell me anybody wrote you poems,” Carrie exclaimed. “I found out on Monday. I was looking for his hairdryer and found the poems.” “Does he know you found them?” “Uhn-uh. And I’m not telling him. I was snooping through his things when I found them.” “Snooping through his things? Why?” “Well, like I said, I was looking for his hairdryer to defrost his refrigerator....” “Defrost his refrigerator? You don’t defrost your own refrigerator. Why were you doing that?” “It was my Monday assignment. But, what am I going to do about the date?” “I’d say just go and get it over with, Hon. Then he’ll see how stupid the idea was and he won’t keep bugging you the entire ninety hours you’ve got left.” “Ninety-one.” Lexi sighed as she plopped into a comfy rocker. “I guess you’re right. It’s worse to worry about something. Better to just get it over with. Look, why don’t I see if I can weasle a trip up and we can go shopping for a new outfit. I don’t think anything I have will fit into Buddy’s world.” “Yeah, well watch out for the cops. You don’t need another hundred hours with this guy.” “Point taken. The therapist is here. I have to go, Carrie. See you Sunday.” 84

Locking Horns **** “Good going, Dad. You’re doing great.” Lexi stood at the parallel bars with her father as he struggled to walk between them. His right arm was getting stronger every day and his grip on the bar held firmly today. “Can’t go. Go fast.” “You don’t need to go fast. You just need to concentrate on one step at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at the other end.” Her father stepped forward with his left foot, then painstakingly lifted the right. He set it down next to the other and grinned that charming, lopsided grin at Lexi. “No trouble. One step for man.” Lexi grinned back. “Once you’ve got this down, we’ll take a stroll to the barns. Would you like that?” His face lit up and he grinned again. “Can I ride, too?” “If you can get up on Ginger, you can ride.” Ray seemed to contemplate that. “Can’t lift, uh, can’t....” Lexi scolded him lightly. “I don’t want to hear can’t again. Just say when—when I can lift my leg. Got that, partner?” Ray nodded and finished walking the length of the bars. He turned and carefully maneuvered to the other end. By the time he got to the far side, tiny beads of perspiration dotted his brow and he motioned for the wheelchair. Lexi brought it over to allow her father to rest a few minutes. “I know it’s hard work, Dad. But you’ve never been afraid of hard work before. What you’ve done already proves you’re still up for it.” A tight-lipped frown came over her father’s face. “I....want, want to, uh, I.” He hit the arm of the wheelchair in frustration. “I want to be me again,” he spat out. Lexi ran her hand through her father’s hair. “You will be, Dad. And it won’t be long. You’ve made great progress.” From the doorway, Alan Bradshaw, the physical therapist, agreed. “You’ve come a long way from lying in that hospital bed just four weeks ago, Ray. I would bet a 85

M. K. Trent month’s salary that you’ll donate that wheelchair to charity in a couple more weeks.” Determined to do just that, Ray pulled himself up and tackled the bars again, pushing to make his legs work. As much as he wanted to walk again, he wanted Lexi to stay here with him even more. It had been years since she’d come to Charles Town to visit for more than a few hours. He was proud of her and what she’d done with her life. But, he missed her company. In the last four weeks, he’d grown closer to her than he’d ever been. After high school, she high-tailed it back to Maryland to go to college, only coming home to visit over Christmas. And once school was finished, she’d gotten the job in downtown Baltimore, found an apartment, and seemed to have forgotten him and her mother. It was only after Claire left him that Lexi had come home for a week. And he’d been so distraught, he’d hardly talked to her. Now he couldn’t talk to her, not like he wanted to. He wanted to tell her he loved her, that he missed her, that she should marry the Beckett boy and settle down in West Virginia. Of course, that’s the last thing he should tell her. After all, you just didn’t tell Alexis Cunningham something like that and expect her to listen. She had a mind of her own, an independent spirit and a stubborn streak as wide as his own. He’d allowed that to ruin his marriage and now he was a lonely old man. He didn’t want to see his only child end up lonely like him. He wanted her to be loved and cherished by someone who would always be there for her. The Beckett boy was the one—he knew it in his gut. The way they looked at each other, him with that unruffled stare, her with the coy glances and fidgety self-consciousness. He just hoped the fellow wouldn’t let her get away. So, unless something happened soon between Lexi and Beckett, getting better was a double-edged sword. He’d have his mobility and his life back, but he’d lose Lexi again. Ray sighed, turned around and slowly made his way to the far end of the bars. Such a bittersweet triumph. **** Rain beat against the vinyl top of Lexi’s BMW and 86

Locking Horns her wipers shoved big drops from the windshield. Buddy was right about the rain. It had started Wednesday night and continued through Thursday. It was still pouring Friday morning. She wondered just what it was farmers and ranchers did when it rained. Her father would spend a lot of time polishing saddles and bridles on bad weather days, or working his horses in the indoor arena. Buddy didn’t have an indoor arena and she doubted he did much cow training. Today would probably be a paperwork day for him. She’d end up vacuuming the dust monsters from his stairway. What a great way to start the weekend. Lexi parked near the house and got out. She shivered and snuggled her warm raincoat around her, glad she’d brought it with her. You never knew what would happen in the spring. This time of year, one day could be hot as chili peppers and the next cold as Absolute on the rocks. Splashing through the puddles on the uneven concrete sidewalk, Lexi ran to the front door and banged on it. No response. She banged again. “Buddy? Open up. I’m freezing.” “Over here.” Lexi turned to see Buddy waving from the open barn door. Oh great. The barn would no doubt be cold and damp—a miserable place to spend three hours. She splashed through the muddy barnyard and slid inside. “Lousy day, huh?” Buddy remarked. “Yeah. I wouldn’t even want to be a duck out there today.” Lexi shook the rain off her coat, then looked around. Several of the stalls were occupied, the snorting and heavy breathing making foggy puffs in the cold air. “Too bad everybody can’t come in,” she said. “Yeah, well, they’ve got leather to keep them warm. And I’ve got a few run-in sheds out in the field. If they feel like getting out of the rain, they can go in.” He walked over to one of the stalls and peered in. “This is Domino. She’s due tomorrow.” Lexi peeked around Buddy and saw a huge cow munching on a trough full of hay. Her sides bulged out like she’d eaten one too many bales of hay. “How do they fit in the stall with those big horns?” she asked. 87

M. K. Trent “Longhorns are very aware of their horns. Domino just tips her head a little to get in the door. And, she seems to know how to lay down without getting all caught up in the stall boards. “I’ve got six ladies ready to deliver any time and I didn’t want them dropping a calf out in this cold rain. So, they’re in here for the time being.” “Great. What if one of them has her baby?” Buddy shrugged. “Unless there’s a problem, she just has it. You know, drop the calf, keep on truckin’.” “What kind of problems could a cow have? I mean, cows have been having calves for centuries, right?” “Sure, but you never know. Just like with any other pregnancy, there could be complications. The calf could be breach, or too big, or the umbilical cord could get wrapped around its neck. I like to hang out just in case.” “Great. So we’re hanging out in this drafty old barn all morning?” “If you’d like. If not....” Buddy motioned toward the office. “We could get cozy in the nice warm office.” “How cozy is cozy, Beckett?” Lexi asked with a skeptical look. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “How cozy would you like to get?” “Humph.” Lexi shivered again and headed toward the brightly lit office. She stopped inside the door and removed her coat, laying it over the back of a chair to dry. In the corner, a small heater sent toasty rays of heat throughout the room. Buddy came in behind her and closed the door against the dampness in the barn. “I was just cleaning up the mess from last week. You can help me get some of this filing done.” “Joy. I just love filing.” “Or we could just shove this stuff off the desk and make love,” Buddy added nonchalantly. Lexi whirled and came within an inch of landing in Buddy’s arms. She caught the heat of his gaze. He was serious about the love-making. Her chest refused to expand and the room faded until all she saw was Buddy, his blue eyes dark with hunger. “Or not,” he said and moved away. 88

Locking Horns Thank God. She was about to consider his offer. “Or not,” she squeaked. “Okay, so here’s a pile of breeding records I’ve rounded up. I need them organized by stud. Here’s the number of the stud up here. Then, I’ll need them by date. Stud. Date. Got it?” “Yeah, I think I can manage.” “Good. I’ve got papers to grade.” “Huh?” Buddy sat at the desk and pulled a bulging folder in front of him. “Papers. I teach a college class. These are the last of the papers I have to grade this semester. There’s a final next week and I’m done.” Lexi gaped at Buddy. “You teach?” Buddy opened the folder. “I know how totally improbable that must sound to you, but yes, I teach part time. Animal Husbandry. Which means, I teach about breeding animals.” He leered at her. “I’m really good at it. Want to find out?” Lexi realized she was gaping. “I’ll take your word for it.” She sat across from Buddy and pulled the first paper from her stack. “2-5-6-3-9,” she said. “November 8.” Buddy looked up from his reading. “Could you do that without reading it out loud. You’re distracting enough, but reading is the frosting on the cake.” “I’m distracting you? Oh, gosh. What a shame. I’m sure Eddie would understand if you called and complained. Maybe I’d get to serve soup at the mission for my last ninety hours.” “Fat chance, sweetheart. Just shut up and file.” “Just shut up and file,” she mimicked. “Humph.” Five minutes later, the phone rang. Buddy pushed the speaker button. “Beckett.” “Hey, Buddy. This is Marianne Souderly. I know I talked to you about getting a side of beef, but I wasn’t exactly thinking about having fifteen hundred pounds of it in my front yard.” “In your yard?” “Yeah. I think your fence is down.” “Oh crap! I’m sorry, Marianne. I’ll be right there.” He hit the speaker button again as he jumped up. “Get your rain slicker on, honey. It’s round up time.” 89

M. K. Trent “Me? Why should I go? I need to finish this filing. Besides, my raincoat isn’t exactly cowboy style. It’s more Garofini, if you get my drift.” Buddy rolled his eyes. “There’s not a practical bone in your body, is there? Come on. I’ve got extra rain gear.” “What about Beaver? Can’t he go with you?” Buddy left the office and came back with two yellow slickers. “Beaver’s having dental work done this morning. Sorry, but you’re it. Come on.” Lexi put her damp coat back on and shoved her arms in the too-big rain slicker. At least it covered her hands, butt, and good coat. She was glad she’d worn her comfy rain boots, not the red leather ones with the high heels. She followed Buddy to his old Chevy truck and hopped up in the passenger seat. The inside was dusty and smelled faintly of manure. Buddy jumped in and cranked the engine. The old truck sputtered to life. He left it idling and got out, going back into the barn. Lexi huddled in the passenger seat, shivered and wondered how long it took this old rust bucket to warm up. She was glad the rain slicker was big enough that her warm coat fit underneath. She was sorry to be here, freezing, water dripping from the slicker onto her jeans and boots. Life on a farm sucked. Buddy threw something in the bed of the truck and climbed back in. Shags hopped in with him, jumped on the console next to Lexi and shook. “Oh, God. Why is he here? He’s all wet. Yuck!” Lexi slid as far toward the door as possible as Shags settled in between the seats. “He’ll help get the cattle back where they belong. Then we can fix the fence.” “We? What do you mean we?” Buddy pushed the hood of the slicker back and wiped water from his face. “You and me.” He gave her a hard look. “Community service, sweetheart. The community needs my cattle out of their front yards. You’ll be doing a great service to my neighbors.” “I’ll bet you’re just loving this, aren’t you, Beckett?” Buddy raised an eyebrow at her. “It gives me a certain satisfaction, if that’s what you mean.” 90

Locking Horns Lexi huddled deeper into the slicker and turned her head away. “Bastard,” she muttered. Buddy adjusted the defroster, currently blowing cold air, and put the truck in gear. They bounced down the driveway, the wipers scraping against the windshield like irritating metronomes. Five minutes later, Buddy pulled up in front of the Souderly’s house. Sure enough, one of his steers was busy munching on the neighbor’s grass. Two houses down, another eyed an azealea bush just beginning to bloom. “They picked a lousy day to go visiting,” Buddy muttered. “How did they get out?” “With the ground so wet, all it takes is one of the steers to lean on a post and over it goes. And, the grass is always greener in Marianne Souderly’s yard.” A woman Lexi took for Marianne waved from the window. Lucky for Buddy, she didn’t seem too upset. “What do you want me to do?” Lexi asked. “There’s a sileage fork in the bed. Pick up that pile over there and toss it in the back.” Buddy didn’t wait for her to complain. He opened the door and motioned for Shags to come. The dog bounded out, wagging his tail like he’d been offered a ham bone. Buddy told Shags to sit, pulled a rope from the truck and headed up the street. Lexi climed out into the pouring rain. “Stupid cows,” she mumbled. “Stupid, stupid cows.” With the sileage fork in hand, she picked up the stillsteaming cow pie from the lawn. She carried it slowly toward the truck, the fork held as far away from her as she could get it. At the back of the truck, she heaved it into the bed. It landed on what looked like a jack of some sort, oozing into the cracks as the rain splattered down. “Oh, crap.” She climbed into the back, dropped the fork and lifted the tool by one handle. The manure was already washing off, dripping in brownish-green blobs. She set the tool back down on the other side, away from the rapidly liquifing manure. Climbing out, she headed for the cab. Buddy stopped her with a shout. “Hey! Come here. I need your help.” He was leading a monstrous-looking beast. 91

M. K. Trent Lexi’s shoulders sagged. So much for getting out of the rain. She slammed the truck door and headed his direction. “Take this rope and lead him between the houses toward the field. You’ll have to find where the fence is down.” “Me?” she squeaked. “You.” He shoved the rope into her hand. “It’s no big deal. Once you start that direction, the fellow over there will most likely follow. I’ll send Shags with you to keep them in the field once they’re back.” Buddy turned to leave. “Hey. Where are you going? You can’t leave me here with this thing.” “To check and see if there are any others around here. You’ll be fine.” He motioned for the dog who came at a run. “Just call him and he’ll go with you.” As Buddy headed down the street, Lexi eyed the huge animal on the other end of the rope. He eyed her back, then swung his big head around and snorted. Lexi’s heart nearly stopped when he bellowed. “I’m going to die,” she moaned. “I just know it.” Well, it was a good day to die, she mused. Cold rain pelted her and, every so often, a gust of wind blew her hood off. She felt like a drowned rat on ice. “Come on, you beast,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. Lexi tugged lightly on the rope and headed down the grassy slope of the yard. To her surprise, the steer followed without a fuss. She passed Marianne Souderly, still standing in the window. Marianne waved and Lexi gave her a half-hearted wave back. She went around the side of the house, down another slope and realized Buddy was right. The second steer followed along. “Like sheep to the slaughter,” she muttered. “Thank you, God.” Shags rallied around them, occasionally nipping at their heels—crouching and circling—keeping everyone in line. Lexi glaced back at the parade following her, then at the fence-line in the distance. She could see where the fence had toppled. At least two posts were uprooted, leaving a gaping area eight to ten feet wide. Plenty of 92

Locking Horns space for the entire herd to escape. Lucky for Buddy, it looked like most of them were huddled under the trees by the pond. At the fence, Lexi stepped carefully to avoid being caught in the barbed wire. Once she had both cows over, she dropped the rope and motioned at the dog. “Get ‘em, Shags,” she ordered. Shags didn’t need her to tell him what to do. He seemed more knowledgeable than she was. He continued moving the cattle toward the others, still nipping and circling. The loose rope trailed behind as the steer moved across the soggy field. With a sigh of relief, Lexi turned to go find Buddy. From a distance, she heard a pitiful bawl. Turning toward the sound, she saw a calf struggling in the swollen stream that fed the pond. It regained its footing, then slipped back into the water, flailing and bawling. Lexi ran toward the calf. As she neared, she realized it was Randy. His eyes were wide, nostrils flared. He slipped again as he fought against the treaturous brown water. “Buddeeeee!” Lexi screamed as she ran toward the roiling water.

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Chapter 12 Cold Feet, Warm Heart Buddy found one more steer. With a firm grip on one of his horns, he guided the docile creature toward the field. He rounded the corner of a house and heard Lexi screaming. “I can’t count on her for anything, can I?” he mutterd. “She probably thinks she’s going to be killed by your cousin.” Buddy moved a little faster, prodding the steer with his elbow. Lexi’s screams became more frantic. “What in hell is her problem?” He saw her near the edge of the stream. There weren’t any cows near her. Slapping the steer on the butt, he moved it across the downed fence and hollered for Shags. The dog came running and took over. Buddy squinted into the rain just as Lexi’s yellow slicker dipped over the creek bank and disappeared. “Lexi!” Buddy was on the run. After two days of torential rains, the stream was swollen and angry. Even a small creek like this was an awakened giant with this much rain. Buddy didn’t hear Lexi anymore. His heart froze as he took off at a dead run. Buddy slipped in the mud, landing hard. The air whoshed out of his lungs. Gasping, he pushed himself to his knees. He pulled air into his lungs and forced them to expand. With effort, he rose to his feet and headed toward the bank where he’d last seen Lexi. Buddy couldn’t believe what he saw. Lexi was waistdeep in brown water, clinging subbornly to Randy’s neck, holding his head out of the water. She lost her footing and let go, thrashing furiously as the water tumbled her around. She stumbled, but managed to grab the tired calf again. Spitting water, she hollered, “You could give me a 94

Locking Horns hand, Beckett.” Buddy slid down the bank on his butt, waded in, and grasped Randy around the middle. Between the two of them, they got him out of the water, but the bank was too steep for the exhausted calf to climp up. “Where’s the rope?” Lexi collapsed against the bank and shook her head. “Out there somewhere,” she replied, waving her arm toward the knot of cows. “His horns were too big. I didn’t know how to get it off and he just kept moving because of Shags. Sorry, I guess I screwed up again, huh?” Buddy leaned against the bank next to her. Lexi was soaked, her chest heaving, her hair dripping in her face. She was about as pretty as he’d ever seen her. “I don’t think I know another woman who’d do what you just did,” he replied softly. “Except maybe my momma.” He reached out and wrapped Lexi in his arms. “I’d kiss you right now, except your knee is mighty close to my nuts and I don’t want to end up like Beaver.” Lexi’s heart pounded. Besides the whole ordeal with Randy and nearly drowning, Buddy’s arms were around her and she was pressed against the dirty, wet front of his slicker. It was about the most erotic place she’d ever been. If Buddy kissed her right now, she doubted her knees would work. Randy interrrupted them with a weak bawl. “Best go find the rope,” Buddy whispered. “Yeah. Best.” **** With Randy tied to the back bumper of the truck, Buddy opened the passenger door and motioned Lexi in. “What about the fence?” she asked. “Don’t we need to fix the fence?” “I’ll do it. You’re soaking wet and freezing. Here’s the keys. Start this thing and get warm. I can’t afford a lawsuit because you get pneumonia.” Buddy tossed the keys into her lap and shut the door. Shaking like she had a bad case of DTs, Lexi leaned over and barely got the key in the starter. She felt the gear shift knob in her ribs. Stick shift. She’d almost forgotten. Sliding across the seat, Lexi sat on the edge and just barely reached the clutch. Fumbling, she turned the key. 95

M. K. Trent The gears ground and the truck lurched. The engine died when her foot slipped off the clutch. In the rearview mirror, she saw Buddy look up. Determined, she pushed the clutch in again and got the old truck fired up. A blast of cold air hit her. She gasped and shut the blower off, waiting for the engine to heat. She made sure the truck was in neutral and the brake set, then slid back to her own side. From the back, Buddy was banging and cursing as he hauled out tools and barbed wire. He slogged between houses, the roll of wire in one hand, tools in the other. How long this would take, Lexi didn’t know. But if she was this wet and cold, he had to be freezing, too. After all, he’d waded in the water himself. “Stupid cow,” Lexi muttered as she looked through the raindrops on the window at the calf shivering at the back of the truck. How in the world were they going to get it home? They couldn’t exactly drag it behind the truck. The heat finally kicked in and Lexi blasted it until the windows were so steamed she couldn’t see a thing. It seemed like the minutes ticked by as slowly as the ice age. Suddenly, Buddy was back. He couldn’t have fixed the fence that fast. But here he was. She must have dozed off. Glancing at her watch, she realized almost two hours had passed. Buddy knocked on the window. Rolling it down, she saw just how wet and dirty Buddy had gotten. “You’re going to catch your death, Buddy. Get in here where it’s warm.” Buddy shook his head. “Gotta get Randy. Can you help me?” Lexi didn’t think twice. She jumped out of the truck into the rain. It wasn’t pouring as hard, but it didn’t look like it was letting up any time soon. “What are we going to do with him?” she asked. “Gotta get him into the bed of the truck. He’s too heavy to lift and I’m too tired to do this myself.” Buddy shivered as hard as she had earlier. On one hand, Lexi felt sorry for him. But on the other, this was his choice in life. The sacrifices he made were his own choices. Still.... “Get up in the bed.” 96

Locking Horns Lexi climbed up and took the rope Buddy handed her. “Keep it taut,” he ordered. She pulled, as Buddy grabbed Randy’s front legs and placed them onto the tailgate of the truck. “Pull harder,” he barked. As Lexi yanked, Buddy got his shoulder under Randy’s backside and heaved. The calf scrambled, but had no choice but to land in the truck. Lexi fell on her backside on what was left of the roll of barbed wire. Randy stumbled, bawled and nearly landed on top of her. She rolled to the side and got a hoof on her backside. “Yeow!” Buddy was already in the truck bed, soothing the calf. Lexi got to her knees and rubbed her butt. “You okay?” Buddy asked. “I’ve got barbed wire holes in my butt,” she answered. “And I’m probably going to have a bruise the size of Manhattan on my left cheek. Is Randy going to be all right back here?” She reached out and rubbed the calf’s nose. “You drive. I’ll sit back here with Randy.” “But you’re all wet. You’ll be the one catching your death, Beckett.” “Thanks for your concern. But the sooner we get going, the sooner we get back. Comprendé?” His teeth were chattering so hard Lexi could hardly understand him. But Lexi understood getting out of the wet and cold. She slid out of the back of the truck, shoved the tailgate up, and hopped in the driver’s side. Shags was already curled up on the passenger seat, the air from the heater blowing his hair. He looked like Farrah Fawcett on a bad hair day. The seat scraped as Lexi pulled it forward. Buddy might be only five ten or so, but he had long legs. She ground the gears and tried not to make the truck lurch. Buddy pulled Randy down so he was laying in the truckbed, but she didn’t want the calf to get too upset and tax what was left of Buddy’s strength. He had to be miserable. At the ranch, Buddy got Randy into a stall and tossed him some hay while Lexi filled a water bucket. She admired the fact that, as miserable as he was, Buddy still cared for the calf first. And he looked in on all the ladies, 97

M. K. Trent as he’d called them earlier, before heading to the warmth of the house. “You go up and get a hot shower,” he told Lexi. “I’m okay. You better take care of yourself.” “Ladies first. I’m going to fix some coffee and get out of these wet clothes.” He began peeling layers off— raincoat, boots, socks, flannel shirt, and T-shirt. Lexi dropped her rainslicker and coat over a kitchen chair and bolted for the stairs. The only things Buddy had left to remove were wet pants and underwear. She didn’t think she needed to be around to see Buddy in the buff. She just might jump his bones right there in his kitchen. How lady-like would that be? When Lexi emerged from the shower, her wet clothes were gone, replaced by a pair of black sweats and an oversized pair of socks. She toweled off and slid into the warm clothes, pulling the drawstring tight around her waist and shoving the legs and sleeves up. She padded downstairs, following the rich smell of coffee and the strong, smokey odor of cooking bacon. Buddy was at the stove, cracking eggs into a bowl. “Smells good,” she said. “Can I help?” “I got it covered.” Buddy poured her a cup of coffee and set it on the table. “Cream and sugar?” “No. Black is fine.” “Probably make your hair stand up. I like it strong,” he replied. “Me too.” Lexi picked up the cup and took a sip. It felt good, warming her insides as it went down. “I need to call home. I’m awfully late.” “Phone’s over there.” Buddy pointed to an ancient yellow wall phone hanging next to the door. “Thanks. And Buddy....” He glanced her direction as he poured eggs into a pan. “Thanks for the warm clothes and this.” She motioned toward the stove. “I didn’t expect you to cook for me.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “I was pretty hungry. Figured you might be too.” “Yeah.” Starved, to be exact. It wasn’t eggs that came to mind though. It was Buddy Beckett, standing there in a clean pair of jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt, half 98

Locking Horns tucked in at the waist. His big bare feet peeked out the bottom of his jeans and his hair had dried helter-skelter around his head. Totally hot! Her eyes followed his movements, as she waited for someone to answer the phone at home. It was Maria. She’d stayed. “Maria, it’s Lexi. Sorry I’m so late. Is Dad okay?” “A little worried about you with the weather and all.” “I’m fine. We had a problem with the cows. They got out and then that little bull fell in the creek and nearly drowned. We had a mess, but it’s all taken care of now. Buddy’s fixing lunch and then I’ll be home. Can you stay until Brad gets there?” “No. I have to be at the nursing home in a half hour. But, your Dad’s fine here for a little while. I’ll put a note on the door for Brad to just come on in. You take your time and don’t worry.” How could she not worry about her dad? “I won’t be long.” Lexi hung up just as Buddy put two plates of eggs, toast, and bacon on the table. He got out a jar of jelly and dug around in a drawer for silverware. “I don’t entertain too much,” he said. “Sorry about the mis-matched dishes. Martha Stewart’s probably spinning on her four-hundred thread count sheets.” Lexi laughed. “Yeah. You forgot the sprig of parsley, too.” Buddy grinned and dove into his food like a starving jackal. Lexi followed suit. There wasn’t much conversation, until their plates were nearly empty. Lexi got up and poured more coffee. “That was delicous. Thanks for lunch.” “Least I could do. Are you warm enough?” His eyes were on hers, full of concern. Lexi wiggled in the big sweatshirt. “Sure. By the way, where are my wet clothes?” “In the dryer playing with mine.” A funny little smile tugged at his lips. His eyes were still on her, and Lexi felt the heat of his gaze penetrate all the way to her toes. “Totally scandalous,” she said. 99

M. K. Trent “Yeah. Who’d a thunk?” he replied softly. There was something in the way he said it. Lexi didn’t think he was referring to their jeans. She felt her heart beat kick up to about a 150. The sweatsuit suddenly felt like way too much clothing. She panicked. “Gotta go,” she squeaked, leaping up and nearly knocking the chair over. “Dad’s all alone. Maria had to leave. Do I get credit for six hours today? I mean, it’s almost two o’clock. Sorry about the filing. I’ll do it next time. Oh, by the way, I can go out with you tomorrow night. That date I owe you. Eight o’clock all right?” Disappointment flickered across his face. “Got a date with my class tomorrow. Sorry. We’re going to my parents’ place for a field trip. Wow! The timing sucks, huh?” “Overthrown for a pig farm,” Lexi replied. Relief flooded through her. Another week or two would give her time to reclaim her sanity. “How about Monday night?” “Monday?” “Open mic night at Bentz Street. You can come listen to me play my guitar and sing.” Dear God. A night out on the country town. Get it over with, she heard Carrie say. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll get someone to stay with Dad.” “Great. I’ll see you Monday morning?” he asked. “Uh. Yeah. I guess. Monday morning.” Lexi grabbed her coat, shoving her arms in the sleeves. “Clothes?” “Out here.” Buddy went to the mudroom and opened the dryer door. He sorted out her jeans and shirt. “You can bring the sweats back Monday.” Lexi balled the clothes up and hugged them to her chest. She stared up at Buddy. Her breath caught in her throat. The air between them hung thick with anticipation. “Your boots are by the door,” he whispered. “Yeah, boots. Thanks.” She didn’t move. Buddy leaned down, his breath warm against her forehead. He was going to kiss her. What was she going to do? Oh! My! God! Buddy Beckett was going to kiss her.

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Chapter 13 Night Out in Redneck Land “Hold still.” Buddy’s fingers were pulling at her hair. “Wha....? “You had a tick in your hair,” he said. “See?” He held his fingers out and showed her a brown wiggly thing. Lexi felt her knees begin to buckle. She grabbed for the door jamb and stumbled backwards. “Eeeuuuuwwww. Gross!” “It wasn’t attached. It was just crawling around. It’s not even a deer tick, just a plain old brown one.” Buddy dropped the thing in the laundry sink and turned on the faucet, sending it down the drain. Lexi regained her footing and jammbed her feet in her boots. “Later,” she muttered as she ran out the door. On the way home, Lexi called Carrie. “I’ll be up tomorrow. I absolutely have to go shopping. He’s taking me to a redneck place Monday night.” **** “This is going to be sooooo good, Carrie.” Lexi eyed herself in the dressing room mirror, turning to admire the way the white jeans molded to her butt cheeks. “This is sooooo stupid,” Carrie answered. “Look at all the money you’re wasting.” She shook her blonde head and pointed to the price tag hanging from the jeans. “Fifty-eight dollars, and that’s just the jeans. Christ! That ridiculous jacket was a hundred and eighty-nine bucks.” “Oh, that ridiculous jacket will make his mouth water, Carrie. I mean, what redneck wouldn’t want a woman all dolled up in a Dolly Parton wig and rhinestone jacket? Then, I’ll just walk off and leave him with a case of blue balls that would make his cows bellow. I can’t wait.” She hoped she could walk off. Friday morning in the cold rain, Lexi had felt a shift in the relationship. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. But, she was sure 101

M. K. Trent Monday night was going to be major chapter in The Disastrous Dates of a Desperate Woman. Carrie interrupted her thoughts, rolling her eyes. “Isn’t it easier to put a guy in his place with a couple of words? Why spend all this money?” Lexi caught her own eye in the mirror, as she fingered the satin tube top that clung to her breasts like a second skin. She checked out the ample curve of her chest and smiled. “It isn’t easy to one-up Buddy Beckett. He’s still got a smart-alec attitude and a fertile mind when it comes to insults. The only payback is to kick him in the proverbial nuts.” She winked at herself in the mirror. “With this.” Carrie sighed. “Is this guy worth it?” Lexi grinned. “Oh yeah. He is so worth it.” Oh, so worth it. Maybe. The way Buddy Beckett toyed with her heart made her crazy—love poems, a collection of old pictures, shit jobs no woman should have to do. And just when she thought he was actually going to kiss her, he pulls a gross bug from her hair. He probably put it there just to taunt her. Well, she could drive him crazy, too. It would serve him right. She slipped out of the tank top. “Let’s go look at hats and boots next.” **** Buddy drove the back roads, through fields waving silver in the moonlight. The first hay cutting was only a matter of days away. If the rains held off, it wouldn’t be long before the yard would be full of sweet-smelling round bales. His mind drifted to the sweet-smelling Lexi Cunningham. He couldn’t believe she’d actually accepted his invitation this time. The Bentz Street Bar wasn’t exactly a five-star place, especially on Monday nights when anyone could come in and have their fifteen minutes of fame. But, he liked the place and hoped Lexi would, too. It was homey and eclectic all at once. Sometimes somebody would read poetry—mostly awful stuff nobody would publish. But, sometimes it was good. And then, there was the old guy who played his banjo and sang songs about hard times and good times and times long gone—Americana, they called it. One night, a 102

Locking Horns pretty black woman had gotten up and sang gospel. Who’d have thought gospel would be a hit in a bar? It was the surprises that kept Buddy coming back. That, and the opportunity to play his guitar for somebody besides his Longhorns. They didn’t really seem to give a rat’s ass if he was in tune or not. He preferred a more discriminating audience. Or, at least one that did something besides stare at him with soulful eyes and wonder if he’d feed them. Buddy wasn’t sure why Lexi finally agreed to go with him to the bar. She’d called off coming over to work this morning. He was surprised she hadn’t called off tonight, too. She’d found plenty of excuses not to go. At least, he considered them excuses. Maybe she really did have trouble finding someone to stay with her father. Or, maybe she really had gotten an infected hangnail that needed attention. After all, he was sure she hadn’t ever worked as hard as the last couple of weeks. Or, shoveled as much cow shit as he’d found for her to shovel. Life in Charles Town, West Virginia had never been for her and still wasn’t. All she ever talked about was getting back to her life—after all, she had one. Like the rest of the world didn’t? Buddy turned in where the Charlemane Thoroughbreds sign illuminated a patch of irises and daffodils. He made his way between the trees lining the drive. Most of the blossoms were gone now, replaced by gentle green. He parked in the circular drive, got out, and headed up the steps to the wide front porch. For its age, the place was well-kept and looked like something out of Gone With the Wind. Through the open window, he could hear Lexi talking with someone—her father’s sitter, no doubt. “He’s in the den watching television. I expect he’ll probably fall asleep in front of it. He usually does. Just help him to his room. He’ll try to complain, but don’t listen to him. “He gets a shot of Jack Daniels before bed. It’s always been his sleeping potion. The bottle is in the cabinet by his bed.” “I’ll find it Miss Lexi. You go on and have a good 103

M. K. Trent time. I think I heard your date drive up.” Buddy rang the bell, hoping Lexi had on one of those short skirts she always used to wear. And, the clunky high heels girls wore nowadays. He liked the look. Maybe she’d have on that black leather tank top she’d worn to his place the first day she’d come to work. The one Randy the little bull liked so much. The door opened and Lexi stood there, a vision in white—white jeans, rhinestone studded white leather jacket, white cowgirl boots, and a white western hat. Her hair was long and curly and a shade of chestnut that resembled a dirty penny. “Well, what are you staring at Harlan Beckett?” “Uh, you. What happened to your hair?” Not that her hair was what he actually was staring at. It was more the way the sparkly rhinestones danced around the curve of her breasts, the big red gems on each side sitting like cherries atop glorious mounds of vanilla ice cream. Lexi tossed the curls. “I bought new hair. You know, money can buy just about anything.” She ran her hands down the jeans. Buddy couldn’t help wishing they were his hands, as they slid over her curvy hips. She might be dressed like a country harlot, but she was still as sexy as a girl could get. Buddy couldn’t decide whether to laugh at her get-up or drool over her boobs, which he noticed were covered in a tight satin tube top under the fringed and jeweled jacket. He hoped the air conditioning at the bar broke tonight, and Lexi would be forced to take the jacket off early in the evening. He cleared his throat. “We better get going. It’s a good half hour to Frederick.” “Good night, Arlene.” Lexi waved at the woman standing behind her in the foyer. “I won’t be too late.” Buddy escorted Lexi to the truck. Sheesh! He should have washed it. If she bumped up against it, there’d be a big dirty spot on her fancy white outfit, which no doubt cost a fortune. He’d seen some of the price tags on western clothes when he bought his hat and chaps. Rhinestones weren’t cheap. Buddy found a towel in his work box and laid it on the seat, so Lexi wouldn’t get her white jeans dirty. He 104

Locking Horns helped her in, then spent the next half hour with his foot to the floor hoping to relax the tension in his body by blowing the carbon out of his engine. No luck. When they got to the bar, he was still as tight as a Lexi’s jeans. “This is it?” Lexi asked. “Yeah. This is it.” At her wrinkled nose, he asked, “What?” “This looks like an old garage.” “I think it was once. Come on.” Buddy switched his guitar case to his right hand and opened the door for Lexi. She stepped inside and stopped short. He nearly rammed his guitar case up her pretty butt. Of course, everybody in the bar stopped what they were doing and stared at Lexi. She felt the blood drain from her face, then return with a vengeance. Her pulse pounded in her neck, as she carefully controlled her anger. How could he bring her to a place like this? For God’s sake, it was a local, hometown biker bar with tattooed men and women sporting pierced eyebrows and God-knows what else. One guy, who looked too young to be there, had a spike hair-cut with blonde tips. This wasn’t a frigging country-western bar. It was a normal place. “You might want to get out of the doorway,” Buddy said. “You bastard!” Lexi muttered. “Me?” Buddy whispered in her ear. He put a hand at the small of her back and urged her forward. “You could have told me....” “I told you this was a down-home kind of place. Not my fault if you make assumptions.” He gave her a cocky little grin, as he deposited his guitar case next to the table he’d chosen. “What’ll you have?” Lexi plunked herself in a chair, eyeing the clientele as they eyed her. “I don’t suppose they know how to make a Cosmopolitan here.” “I suppose they do, even though it’s probably not their most asked-for drink.” A pretty waitress with a tight shirt, jeans, and highheeled mules stopped at the table. “Hey, Buddy.” “Hey, Melinda. I’ll have the usual and a 105

M. K. Trent Cosmopolitan for the lady.” Melinda nodded and grinned at Buddy. She gave a sideways glance at Lexi, like she was trying to take it all in without being obvious. Lexi yanked the $40 hat off her head and slammed it on the table. “I take it they let you play anything here.” “Sure. Play or sing or read poetry or whatever.” Lexi slipped the jacket off one arm. “Except strip. I don’t think they allow you to strip.” “Oh shut up, Beckett.” Lexi tossed the $189 jacket over a chair back. Buddy’s eyes nearly fell on the floor. The $12 satin tube top definitely did what the expensive jacket and hat hadn’t. She swore his tongue was about to loll out the side of his mouth. A coy little grin slid across her face. This was going to work after all. Buddy put his name on the list of performers and sat back to wait his turn. He sipped his beer and made small talk with Lexi. How was her dad doing? Who took care of the horses while he was recuperating? Did any of his horses win this year? Lexi carefully turned the conversation away from herself and her father, asking instead about Buddy’s family. “Besides Lenny, don’t you have a few other brothers and sisters?” “Yeah, a few. Eight to be exact.” “Eight? I knew you had some older sisters, but eight kids?” “Well, nine, counting me.” “Yeah, nine. How come they call you Buddy. I mean, if your parents named you Harlan, why not call you Harlan?” Buddy chuckled. “I was the first boy. Daddy would hear of nothing but naming me after him. But, Momma said one Harlan was nearly too much. So, she called me Buddy. It stuck.” “You’re not a junior?” “No. Daddy is Harlan Alfred. Momma had an old boyfriend named Alfred and all she ever wanted was to stick him in the gizzard with a good sharp knife. So, she refused to name me Harlan Alfred. She said if Daddy really loved her, he’d change his middle name.” Lexi sipped her second Cosmopolitan, toying with the 106

Locking Horns stem of the glass. “So did he?” “Nah. I remember Daddy and Momma had a fight about it once. And then, they went to church like they always did after a fight.” Buddy had a funny gleam in his eye when he said ‘they went to church’. Lexi couldn’t help herself. She had to ask. “Went to church?” “Yeah. Daddy’d say ‘God damn you, Charlene’. That’s my Momma’s name. Then Momma, she’d say, ‘no, God damn you, Harlan’. Before it was all over, my sister, Marcy, would have to watch us while they went to the bedroom. Daddy’d be yelling Sweet Jesus and Momma would be singing God’s praises and asking Daddy to keep up the faith.” Buddy grinned at her. “I think Daddy called his penis Faith.” “Buddy Beckett, I can’t believe you’re telling me this.” “You asked. Anyway, I think that’s why there are nine of us. Momma and Daddy went to church too often.” Lexi looked away, trying to hide the laughter that threatened to boil over. She’d be damned if Buddy Beckett would make her laugh at one of his lurid stories about life in Redneck Land. “The Church of St. Mattresses.” Lexi snorted her Cosmopolitan and nearly choked. She couldn’t help it. She held her sides as she roared. Either she’d had too many drinks or not enough. Buddy was actually kind of a fun date. It took three Cosmopolitans before Buddy’s turn to play came around. Actually, it was only a little over an hour. But, Lexi was going through the drinks. She had loosened up, becoming flushed and pretty as any woman Buddy had ever seen. He couldn’t remember Lexi smiling much before. A little alcohol seemed to be just the thing to get her to let her hair down and enjoy life. “Hey, don’t go anywhere. I’m playing a couple of songs. Order me another beer if Melinda comes by.” “Sure thing, Harlan,” Lexi teased. She’d pulled her Southern accent out of her hat and was laying it on pretty thick. Buddy didn’t care. He liked 107

M. K. Trent it. It turned him on, the way she let the words slide lazily around her tongue. Buddy took the stage steps in one leap. He tossed his guitar strap over his shoulder, settling the instrument comfortably against his belly. One of the guys handed him the amplifier plug-in. “Check, check.” Buddy adjusted the microphone, turning it downward. Picking each string, Buddy tuned the guitar, tipping his head sideways, listening intently to the rolling tones that emerged from the amplifier. When he was satisfied, he grinned out at Lexi, selected the canned beat he wanted from the drum machine, and began to play. Lexi expected some countrified, cry-in-your-beer song. Instead, the undeniably loud strains of George Thoroughgood’s Bad to the Bone rang through the bar. Huh? Buddy Beckett was good. He was damned good. And, he could sing. Lexi found herself chair-dancing, her hips gyrating against the wood, while she swayed to the beat. When Buddy finished, she leaped up and gave him her best, ear-piercing whistle. The one she used to call her teenage aerobics class to order, when the girls got a little out-of-control. And then, she ordered another Cosmopolitan and a beer for Buddy. When it came, she slammed the Cosmopolitan back. She hadn’t had this good a time in months—maybe years. She was definitely flying high. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was Buddy Beckett. Maybe it was the need to let everything go for once, unwind from the stress of being ripped from her comfortable city life a second time, the constant caring for her father, the realization that her life sucked. She got up and headed to the stage. Buddy was doing Van Halen’s Runnin’ With the Devil. He had his eyes closed, feeling the music roll from the guitar. A ripple of interest from the audience made him open one eye and look. He nearly lost the beat as Lexi, in her painted on jeans and clinging satin tube top, joined him on stage. His eyes popped wide open. There was nothing better in Buddy’s book than a woman who could dance, 108

Locking Horns especially one who knew how to move. Lexi was one of those women. He wished someone else was providing the music, because he just wanted to stand there and take it all in—the sway of her breasts, the undulating muscles of her belly, the provocative gyration of her hips. Every move she made screamed SEX. Shit! Right here in front of everyone, Lexi ran her hands under her hair, letting it slowly fall across her body like caressing fingers. She cupped her breasts, as she thrust her hips. It was purely provocative, the way her body moved, animal hot and filled with primitive lust. She made his body harden, starting with his groin and radiating outward to every other part. With her eyes closed, her lips pursed into the most incredible pout, Lexi was innocence and heat and mouthwatering sex all rolled into one. And oh, Sweet Jesus, he wanted her. He made a mental note to ask the management to install a pole up here. Because he really wanted to see what she could do with that. When the song ended, Buddy ripped the amplifier plug from his guitar. All thirteen people in the bar were on their feet cheering and clapping, but Buddy knew it had nothing to do with his musical talent and everything to do with Lexi’s hot body. With his guitar in one hand, he took Lexi’s hand in his other, leading her away from the stage. At the table, he silently stowed his guitar in its case, took a long swig from the beer Lexi had ordered for him and asked Melanie for the check. “Hey, are we leavin’ now?” Lexi asked him. “Damn straight we’re leaving.” “Why? I was havin’ fun.” “Me too, babe.” “Aw!” Lexi folded her arms under her breasts and stuck out her lower lip. Buddy wanted to suck on that lip. Suck on it, kiss it, and run his tongue over it until she understood just what she was doing to him. When Melanie came back with the check, Buddy dumped two twenties on the table, scooped up Lexi’s hat and jammed it on her head. He picked up her jacket and 109

M. K. Trent his guitar case, took her by the hand again and headed for the door. “Bye y’all,” Lexi hollered over her shoulder.

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Chapter 14 Knee Deep and Sinking In the parking lot, Buddy dropped his guitar case and Lexi’s jacket next to the truck. Lexi leaned against the door, still pouting. “We have to leave?” Buddy stood in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her head. His breath came hard, rasping in and out as he considered just how out-of-control he could let himself go. “Let’s go to church, Buddy.” “Sweet Jesus!” Buddy’s mouth came over hers, hard and demanding. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, savoring the heat, the taste of her. Lexi Cunningham had been an alluring eighteen-year-old. But by God, she was a hot, seductive woman now. He wanted to bury himself inside her, right here in the parking lot of the Bentz Street Bar. Lexi apparently had the same idea. The moves he’d watched just a few minutes earlier, he felt now against his body. Her hips ground into him, taunted and teased, asking him to make love to her. “Oh, yeah,” he moaned. Lexi’s hand came over him, palming the hard, thick length of him through his jeans. Buddy dropped his hands to her shoulders, then slid them up to cup her face. He kissed her again, a long, deep, soul-rocking kiss. Pulling back, he glanced over his shoulder. No one was in the lot. It was deserted and the one light didn’t reach this far. They could do it here. He could take her to church right here against the truck—hard, hot, and fast. And oh, Sweet Jesus. How good it would feel to finally bury himself inside Lexi Cunningham and make love to her sweet, tight body. His mind reeled. He wanted this woman—right here, right now. But, if it happened this way, would he ever have her again? Once wouldn’t be enough to satisfy his 111

M. K. Trent soul. He couldn’t risk the possibility of losing out on forever for a moment’s indulgence, no matter how sweet the pleasure. With more determination than he thought he had in him, Buddy pulled away from Lexi. He stood there in the dark, his breath coming in harsh gasps, his mind dragging him toward the heat of the woman in front of him. “Ohhhh!” Lexi moaned, her hands fisted against his chest. “Don’t do this to me. I want you, damn it.” Buddy pulled her against him, wrapped his arms around her back and kissed the top of her head. “Sweet Jesus, I want you too. I just can’t. Not here. Not tonight.” Lexi suddenly dissolved in tears. She sobbed against Buddy’s chest. He felt the heat and dampness of her tears through his T-shirt and was glad about the decision he’d made. He held her as the sobs racked her body. The lust was gone now, replaced by incredible tenderness. He wanted to hold Lexi in his arms and comfort her, to reassure her, to keep her safe and warm with just his embrace. “Jesus,” he breathed softly. “Let’s go home, Lexi.” They drove in silence, Buddy staring out the windshield, Lexi out the side window. At first, there were a few stray sniffles from her, but they subsided and left nothing but the beat of his heart slamming in his chest, the throbbing ache in his groin, and the wind roaring past the open windows. **** Lexi quelled the urge to gag as she shoved gooey eggs around in the pan. It didn’t matter that she’d gotten in late or had way too much to drink. Her father still needed her to help him get dressed and cleaned up. And of course, to cook breakfast. The last thing she wanted was to look at eggs. She tried closing her eyes, but then the room spun and made things worse. Gatorade, she really needed a quart of Gatorade. The thought made her just as sick. She remembered most of the evening with Buddy. She remembered laughing at his funny stories, whistling when he finished his first song. Dancing next to him. Kissing him. 112

Locking Horns She flushed and her stomach flip-flopped dangerously. It wasn’t the result of too many Cosmopolitans. It was the fire of Buddy Beckett’s lips on hers, his hands on her body. “Oh!” she groaned. “Burnt?” Ray asked. “Huh?” Lexi looked around at her father. He was staring at the pan on the stove. She followed his gaze. The eggs were brown, not yellow. But, at least they weren’t gooey anymore. “Sorry, Dad. You know me. Not much of a cook.” “You, you....you look....um....” Her father struggled with the words. But, she knew it wouldn’t help to finish the sentence for him, even though she was sure she looked as bad as she felt. He needed to find the right word somewhere in the scrambled neurons of his brain. “Shitty.” Ray spit the word out, then grinned widely. That wasn’t the word she’d envisioned him finding. “No more lessons for you,” she retorted, giving him a halfsmile. Lexi put the plate of eggs and sausage in front of her father just as the telephone rang—an earsplitting sound that made her head throb. She grabbed for it and went out the back door. “Hey, Lexi. How was the big date?” It was Carrie. Lexi leaned against the house, in hopes the wall would keep her knees from buckling. No more Cosmopolitans for a very long time. “I will never be able to face Buddy Beckett again,” she moaned. “Uh-oh. What happened?” “Well, for starters, the place wasn’t a country bar. There was this kid with spiked hair and a couple of people with nose rings.” Carrie giggled. “So the expensive hat and jacket were a waste?” “The twelve dollar tube top was a hit. It definitely went off the charts on the Beckett-scale.” “So, did you put him in his place? Is that why you don’t want to see him again?” Lexi snorted. “Hardly. Carrie, I don’t know what I’m 113

M. K. Trent going to do. I have to spend most of the summer working at his place. I drank too much, had too good a time, and threw myself at him like some love-starved idiot.” Lexi slid down the wall and sat with her hand against her forehead, trying to keep her head from exploding. Carrie nearly screamed into the phone. “You had sex with him?” “Ow! Don’t holler like that. My brain is about to splatter against the wall. And no, I didn’t sleep with him.” “Well what then?” “He turned me down. We were kissing and doing the extremely hot, touchy-feely thing when all of a sudden, he says no. Just stopped cold turkey and said no. I’ll never be able to face him again, Carrie.” Before she realized what was happening, Lexi burst into tears. She bawled, sniffled, and finally managed, “What am I going to do?” “Whoa, kiddo. I don’t know. Man! Did he say why?” “He just said he couldn’t. Not there. Not then.” “Where was there?” “The parking lot.” “Well, I guess I have to give him credit, Lexi. After all, were you even in the car?” Lexi wiped at her eyes. “Truck. No, we were standing next to the truck. I was so drunk and I feel like crap today.” “Hmmm. You mean this guy didn’t take advantage of you when you were drunk? Wow! That’s some special sort of guy, Lexi. If you don’t want him, can I have him?” Lexi wanted to scream NO at Carrie. No, she couldn’t have him. It occurred to her—maybe she wanted Buddy Beckett for herself. At least one part of her did, the sex part. It also could have been the needs an interesting guy with a sense of humor part or the desperate, don’t want to die an old maid part. Whatever part it was, she wasn’t about to give him over to Carrie—at least not yet. “Is he good-looking? Can he cook?” Lexi pulled her mind back to the conversation. “He reminds me of the Marlboro Man and he nukes a mean TV dinner. He has absolutely no taste in decorating and drinks Budweiser.” As an afterthought, she added, “I have to go to his place again tomorrow. How can I? There is 114

Locking Horns absolutely no dignity in begging a guy to have sex with you in a parking lot. I won’t be able to look him in the eye.” Carrie giggled. “So, just look him in the crotch. Maybe he’ll get the idea.” “Carrie, you’re so crude. And, I can’t look him in the crotch either. I might start to drool again. He’s got a world-class Beckett-tool.” “Oh! My! God! And you know this because?” “I had it in my hand last night. Through his jeans, I mean. Not really, you know, in my hand.” Through the open door, Lexi heard her father. “Hey, hey.” “Carrie, I have to go. Dad’s hollering for me. If you think of a way for me to get out of the next millennium at Buddy’s place, e-mail me, okay?” “Humph. If I were you, I wouldn’t want out of it. You are one mixed up chic.” “Yeah. That’s me. I’m a mess.” **** Wednesday morning, 7:00 a.m. came and went, then 7:30 a.m. Buddy thoroughly expected a phone call from Lexi saying she wouldn’t be over. But, the phone didn’t ring. Maybe she just wouldn’t show up. After what happened between them Monday night, he was pretty sure she’d figure a way to serve her hours somewhere else. After all, how embarrassed she must be to have gotten drunk and kissed the pig farmer’s son. He’d spent the last two nights tossing, turning, and wishing she’d been stone cold sober and willing instead of three sheets and out-of-control. How many nights had he lain in bed yearning for Lexi’s attentions years ago? Buddy sighed and headed out of his office. He had plenty to do today. Three new calves had been born over the weekend. Three more were due any time. He had to finish grading the last of the papers and put the finishing touches on his final exam. After Thursday night, he’d just have to grade the exams and the class would be over for the year. He stood outside in the sun, hat in his hand while the soft breeze ruffled his hair. He loved the ranch. And, he loved teaching, too. Animal Husbandry wasn’t exactly a 115

M. K. Trent class kids took as an elective. It was a required class for those in the Agricultural College. So, he didn’t get very many uninterested students. He was also helping continue the farming legacy in a world where family farms were disappearing faster than Lenny when cousin Lulu showed up. He shoved his sunglasses up and gazed out over the field of grazing cattle. What a beautiful sight. Then Buddy saw Lexi’s little sports car turn up the drive. His insides flip-flopped and he felt the hitch in his heartbeat. So, she was here after all. Maybe she didn’t remember Monday night. That would probably be best. Lexi got out of her car and made a show of locking her purse in the trunk, then donning a baseball cap. She adjusted her sunglasses, leaned into the car and grabbed a bottle of water, took a long drink, then put the cap on and replaced it in the cup holder. It was obvious from her unusual procrastination, she remembered Monday night very well. “Hey,” he said when she finally headed his way. “Hey,” she replied, hiding behind her sunglasses. “You cut your hair,” he said, trying to disperse the tension. “So did you.” He gave her a quick grin. “Yeah, but that was twelve years ago.” They both started to talk, then broke off in awkward apologies. “Go ahead,” Buddy said. “I, um, wanted to apologize for Monday night. I had too much to drink and I, um, shouldn’t have—well, you know. Thrown myself at you.” “No harm done. I understand it was all about the liquor, Lexi. I didn’t take it wrong and you don’t have to worry I’ll expect anything from you besides the community service time.” He could dream, but he wouldn’t expect. “Buddy, I’m sorry. I’m a real jerk. I really did have a good time. You sing pretty good for a redneck.” She flashed him a quick, nervous smile. Buddy fought against the wild exultation that threatened to take over. Lexi Cunningham apologized to him. She even complimented him. If he let himself, he’d 116

Locking Horns probably be doing Snoopy’s suppertime dance across the barnyard. The cautious side of him held him back. Lexi was embarrassed about getting drunk and begging for sex. What woman wouldn’t be? But, the apology was a concession on her part he’d never expected. Maybe she hadn’t been brought to her knees, but she had bent a little. He mentally chalked up a mark for the humility crusade. Lexi interrupted his thoughts. “Do you still need me to file?” Buddy shrugged. “If you want to, it still needs to be done.” “Sure.” Lexi didn’t look at Buddy as she walked toward the barn. She knew her face had been beet red—she’d felt the burn while delivering her apology. Thank God Buddy had been a good sport about it. After all, he could have dumped a thousand snide remarks on her. All he’d done was tease about her lost country curly wig. She finally began to breathe a little easier. When she’d driven up and seen Buddy standing there, black cowboy hat in hand, sunglasses shoved up on top of his head, and blue eyes narrowed, she had wanted to run and hide. Damn him anyway, she still felt like she had Monday night when the Cosmopolitans had been talking. Maybe it wasn’t the Cosmopolitans after all. Maybe they allowed her to act out what she’d wanted to do anyway. “Because face it, Cunningham. That’s what you want to do right now,” she muttered. “What’s that, Miss Lexi?” Lexi nearly peed in her pants. Beaver stood at the edge of the hayloft. He tossed a bale of hay down and leered at her. Lexi’s fright quickly turned to anger. “You idiot. Don’t you ever scare me like that again or I’ll finish what I started in Buddy’s kitchen. I’ll remove your nuts, Beaver. Got it? Just like one of Buddy’s steers. You’ll get old and fat and never have sex again.” “I never meant to scare you, Miss Lexi. I sure am sorry.” 117

M. K. Trent “Yes, you are.” Lexi stormed into Buddy’s office and slammed the door behind her. Buddy must have found a lot to do outside because he never ventured into the office. When she was finished filing the breeding records, she sorted through other papers and stacked them in orderly piles, then gave the office a general clean-up. She caught a glimpse of Buddy leaning on the fence-rail, talking to Beaver. She ventured out and headed their direction. Beaver backpedaled, turned, and nearly ran toward the machine shed. “You’ve got a real way with him, Lexi,” Buddy said with a laugh. “We understand each other—finally. Look, I’m finished. You want to inspect?” “Do I need to?” “I didn’t leave any disasters behind, if that’s what you think. Office work isn’t that complicated.” Buddy gave her a wry smile. “Neither is defrosting a refrigerator.” Lexi gave him a withering glare. “Are we back to that again?” Buddy held his hands up in mock surrender. “I won’t mention it again, Ms. Cunningham.” His blue eyes sparkled and he gave her a teasing grin. Lexi felt herself melt. How cute could one damned cowboy be? Buddy’s cell phone rang. He pulled it off his belt and looked at the ID, then flipped it open. “Excuse me, Lexi. Hey, Daddy. What’s up?” Buddy’s face was a mixture of little boy and grown up man as he listened to his father. “Daddy, I told you already. I know, but....” Lexi started to leave, but Buddy caught her shoulder. “Wait. Hold on Daddy.” Holding the phone to his side, Buddy took a deep breath. “Daddy says to I’m to bring you to supper tonight. I told him you probably couldn’t come, but he won’t take no from me. Here, you talk to him.” He shoved the phone into her hand. “Me?” Buddy walked away. 118

Locking Horns “Hello?” “Hey, Ms. Cunningham. How are you today?” “I’m fine, uh, Mr. Beckett. What can I do for you?” “Well, Patty keeps telling us you’re coming to supper at the house here, so I told Buddy he needs to bring you around. He keeps hedging on me. I thought this was one of your mornings to work, so I called to get him to ask you. Charlene and me, we’d love to have you come over. And, so would Patty. She’s talked a lot about you.” “Why, um, thank you for the invitation, Mr. Beckett, but I don’t know....” “Well, I know it’s short notice, but I thought I’d ask. Patty, well, her heart will be broken if you don’t come by.” Lexi thought they were probably using Patty as leverage to get her there. Why? Had Buddy squealed to his family about their big date and her humiliating behavior? Or, were they really as desperate to marry him off as they sounded and she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? “It’s Ms. Cunningham,” Lexi heard Buddy’s father say. “Yeah. That’s her.” The next voice Lexi heard wasn’t male. “Ms. Cunningham. I hear you’re coming to supper tonight. We’re just pleased as fat blackbirds you’re gonna be here. You like cherry pie?” “Uh, yes. I guess.” “This is so sweet of you to come by. We’ll see you with Buddy tonight.” The phone went dead. “Buddeee!” Buddy appeared at the barn door. “What?” “Your parents. Damn it, Buddy. What did you tell them about us? I’m supposed to be at your parents’ house for dinner tonight. What’s going on?” Buddy gave her an innocent look. “I don’t know anything. All I know is they’ve been bugging me to bring you by. I thought you would set them straight.” “I’ve been bamboozled. Railroaded.” “Hog-tied,” Buddy added. Lexi threw the phone at him and stomped toward her car. “I’ll pick you up at six,” he hollered after her. She whirled around. “What am I supposed to wear? 119

M. K. Trent Overalls?” “Daddy’d like that little outfit from Monday night.” “Don’t push your luck, Beckett.” Buddy was laughing at her. How did this turn into such a disaster? It seemed every time she came here, everything went downhill. This time it wasn’t just cows or the tomato patch or Buddy’s kitchen. It was her entire life.

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Chapter 15 When Pigs Fly Lexi had the phone on speaker as she yanked the red shirt over her head. It landed on the bed with seven others she’d already tried and tossed aside. “Carrie, I don’t have a thing to wear. What am I going to do?” Carrie snickered. “What about your outfit from Monday night?” “Damn it, Carrie. You sound just like Buddy. I’m serious here. There’s not one thing in my closet I can wear to a pig farm.” “Quit thinking of it as a pig farm and start thinking of it as at somebody’s home. What would you wear if you came to my place?” “Jeans.” “Don’t tell me you don’t have a pair of jeans in your closet. I know better. You must have fifteen pairs.” “So I wear jeans. What else? I already ruled out eight shirts.” Lexi plunked on the bed next to the stack of rejects. “What about that green knit top with the butterfly sleeves. You know, the one you got at Lord and Taylor?” “Green top.” Lexi got up and started shuffling clothes in the closet again. “I think it’s in Baltimore at the apartment. I don’t have time to go get it.” She pulled out a yellow scoop neck tee—too yellow. She grabbed the pink one—not in the mood for pink. “What do you think about my black body suit? The one that ties at the shoulders.” “The long sleeve one with the slits and little ties all down the arm?” “Yeah.” Lexi held it up and looked at herself in the mirror. The last time she’d worn this, she’d been with Phil. Yuck! It landed on the bed. “Cool.” 121

M. K. Trent “Not cool. I wore it with Phil the last time we were together. I don’t want to think of Phil tonight.” Lexi let go a heavy sigh. “This is a disaster. Maybe I should call and tell them I can’t get away. A little lie isn’t going to hurt, is it?” “When is Buddy coming for you?” Lexi looked at the clock on her dresser. “Twenty minutes.” “Too late to call. You’d best just grab something and stop obsessing over it. You’ll end up going in your jeans and bra at this rate.” “Which bra should I wear?” Lexi heard the exasperated grunt on the other end of the phone. “Give me a break, girlfriend. You’re freaking.” “It’s his parents, Carrie. I have to look just right or I’ll be a laughing stock, just like last Monday night.” Lexi pulled out a plain white blouse with a V-neck and long sleeves. White blouses fit any occasion. This one was fitted and showed off her curves perfectly. With her black onyx necklace and earrings, it just might do. “So?” “I found it. White blouse, the V-neck one. Thanks, Carrie. I never could have done it without you.” “Like I was some great help. Get off the phone and get dressed. You’ve got fifteen minutes.” Lexi looked out the window. “No I don’t. He’s early. He’s in the driveway right now. My God! He washed the truck.” “Ooooh. Hot date, girl. Go for it.” “Yeah, right. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Lexi punched the button and tossed the phone on the bed. She pulled on a pair of jeans, then shrugged into the shirt. She stood to the side of the window and peeked out as she buttoned it. Buddy was wearing jeans. Thank God! He had on a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Casual. She let out a nervous sigh. Slipping into her black high-heeled mules, she rummaged through her jewelry and found the onyx set. As she heard the doorbell ring, Lexi grabbed the Vanilla Musk perfume and gave herself a quick spritz. One last glance in the mirror and she ran down the stairs. “Hey,” she said. 122

Locking Horns “Hey.” Just like the first day she’d seen him, Buddy gave her a once over with those sparkling blue eyes. She felt her skin heat, as they raked over her. Just for a moment, she thought she saw that primal hunger again. And then it was gone, hidden behind an innocent smile “You look great.” “Okay to meet the folks?” she asked. “You could have dressed in burlap and it would be okay. They don’t really care. Except for Daddy. He might have liked the rhinestones.” Lexi saw the laughter in Buddy’s eyes. It would be a long time before she lived that down with him. “So, my all-afternoon primp was for nothing?” she teased. “You spent all afternoon getting gussied up? I’m impressed.” His eyes closed momentarily and he took a long, deep breath. “Nice.” “You don’t smell so bad yourself.” “Good for us. The pigs will be impressed. Shall we go?” “Sure. Dad?” Lexi ran into the living room. “Buddy’s here. I won’t be gone long. If you need me, just hit number one on memory dial. I’ll have my cell on.” “No trouble. Go, go. Have, um....a time. Good time.” Lexi kissed her father and left. “No sitter?” Buddy asked as he opened the truck door. “Maria will be over in about an hour,” she said as she climbed inside and sat on the scrubbed seat. “Dad insists he’ll be fine.” Buddy put his hand on her knee. “You know, he needs to have some time like this to prove he’ll be all right without you. How else are you going to go back to your real life in Baltimore and not worry yourself ragged?” Their eyes met and Lexi wasn’t sure what she read in Buddy’s darkened look. Sadness? Regret? Or maybe just concern. Whatever it was, it was hidden again behind a quick smile. He withdrew his hand. “Better get.” Fifteen minutes later, Buddy turned in his folks’ driveway. “You’re lucky. The wind’s from the south.” 123

M. K. Trent “I guess I should count my blessings, huh?” Buddy grinned. “Definitely.” As they neared the house, Buddy’s grin widened. “Chicken.” “I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a chicken. If I was a chicken, I wouldn’t be here tonight,” Lexi replied. “No. I mean Momma fixed chicken. I can smell it all the way out here.” He parked the truck and turned toward Lexi. “Not to make you nervous or anything, but Momma must think this is a pretty special night.” “Why’s that?” “Chicken.” Buddy got out and went around the truck. He opened the door and held his hand out to help Lexi down. “What’s so special about chicken? I have chicken all the time,” Lexi said. She almost ignored Buddy’s outstretched hand. After all, it wasn’t like she was handicapped or anything. But then, he was being a gentleman and that was not to be discouraged. She laid her hand in his and slid out of the truck. “Daddy raises pigs, Lexi. What does that tell you? We eat pork chops, pork roasts, pork tenderloins, smoked ham, baked ham, ham steaks, chitlins, bacon, ham hocks. You get the picture?” Lexi nodded. “Chicken is reserved for Sunday dinner and very special occasions.” Lexi looked at her hand in Buddy’s. Good God! His parents thought there was something between them. Now, that made her nervous. That and the feel of Buddy’s warm, callused hand holding hers so gently. She’d thought her reaction to Buddy on Monday night had everything to do with alcohol and nothing to do with reality. But right now, without a drop of vodka, Buddy made her insides turn upside down. Long dry spell. That must be it. She hadn’t had sex in months. And, the close encounter Monday night probably riled up her hormones and got the sex cells in her brain functioning again. They weren’t very discriminating. Sex cells perceived male and went into hyper-activity. Time for an intervention with the common sense cells. But, that didn’t seem to be happening right now. 124

Locking Horns The blood pounding through veins sensors were on overtime. The let’s sweat glands geared up for a workout. And kiss me, you fool thoughts ran rampant. Lexi removed her hand from Buddy’s. “Uh, we better not keep the chicken waiting.” “Better not.” Charlene Beckett appeared at the door, wiping her hands on a ruffled, white bib apron. Lexi was surprised at the woman’s appearance. She had some vague idea that Buddy’s mother would be overweight and wearing overalls. Instead, she was slender and wore a pale blue dress under the apron. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back and braided. Short, silver strands had come loose and circled her face. “This must be Alexis,” she said. She smiled and her face lit up. Lexi recognized Buddy’s twinkling blue eyes. They definitely came from his mother. “That’s right, Momma. Lexi, this is my mother.” Before she knew it, Lexi was in the woman’s tight embrace. “So very glad to have you at our house.” She stepped back and held the door open. Buddy steered Lexi inside. “I do hope you like chicken. I’ve roasted a couple of nice hens tonight, fresh from the henhouse.” “It smells delicious, Mrs. Beckett. And, please call me Lexi.” Before the door closed behind them, Patty flew into the room and clasped Lexi in a huge bear hug. “Miss Lex. Miss Lex. I knew you’d come to my house. Come here. Come here.” She grabbed Lexi’s hand and started to pull her back out the door. “Hey there, little sister. Don’t I get a hug?” Buddy stood in the way, stopping Patty’s progress. “Yep.” Patty stopped and wrapped her arms around Buddy’s neck, giving him a big kiss on his cheek. “You got sweet stuff on.” Buddy laughed. “Yeah. Sweet stuff.” “You gotta come out to see my piggy, Miss Lex. Come on.” She had Lexi’s hand again, nearly yanking her out the door. “Whoa, there young lady.” It was Harlan Beckett this time putting a stop to Patty’s progress. He stood on the 125

M. K. Trent porch, a bowl of leaf lettuce balanced on one forearm, as he held the screen door from slamming against the wall with his foot. “I guess this must be Ms. Cunningham. I’m Harlan Beckett. Nice you came by. Guess you see the missus wrung a couple of chicken necks for the occasion. Buddy’s never brought a lady-friend by before.” Harlan Beckett pumped Lexi’s free hand up and down as he spoke. His gray-blue eyes matched his pressed denim shirt. No overalls for him either. He had on a pair of dark blue twill slacks and a new-looking pair of deck shoes. His thick, white hair was combed back and Lexi noticed he had sweet stuff on too. The Beckett’s had gone all-out for this visit—as if she were royalty. Patty pulled her hand again and Lexi lurched past Harlan. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “We’re going to see Patty’s pig.” “Patty Louise. You let Ms. Cunningham get her bearings before hauling her to the pig-sty.” “But my piggy’s gonna fly,” Patty replied, her face alight with excitement. “Patty,” Charlene scolded. “You know pigs don’t fly, especially our pigs.” Lexi noticed a quick glare at Buddy, as if he had something to do with the child’s mis-information. “But....” “It’s all right, Mrs. Beckett. I’ll go with her to see her piggy. It won’t take a minute. Come on, Buddy. You’d better come, too.” “Keep the chicken warm, Momma. I’ll settle this with Patty.” “You better, young man.” The screen door slammed behind the elder Becketts as Lexi trudged toward a small enclosure at the side of the barn. A cacophony of squeals and oinks resounded across the yard. “They think they’re going to get fed,” Buddy explained. “Every time somebody comes over here to the fence, they expect food.” “Here’s my piggy. His name is Lester and he’s gonna fly now.” Patty squatted down and poked at a dirty black and white piglet. “Fly.” 126

Locking Horns “Patty, I don’t think he’s going to fly, honey,” Lexi said. “I think he’d hurt himself if he tried.” “But Bubby said he was gonna.” She turned around, tears spilling down her cheeks. “You said when pigs fly. That’s what you said.” Buddy knelt down and pulled Patty against his chest. “I know I said that, sweetheart. I was wrong.” “But Miss Lex is here and Lester shoulda flied.” Buddy glanced up at Lexi, a guilty look on his face. He looked back at Patty and took her chin in his hand. He tilted her head so she had to look at him, then wiped at her tears with one rough thumb. “God didn’t give piggies wings, honey. Pigs never fly.” “You lied, Bubby.” Lexi hid a smile behind curled fingers. So, Buddy figured she’d come over when pigs flew. A couple of weeks ago, she would have said the same thing. Isn’t it funny how circumstances change? One thing wasn’t going to change-Lester wasn’t ever going to fly. Poor Patty’s heart was broken. Buddy definitely had shit on his face this time. Lexi leaned down. “Patty, honey, does Lester ever come out of his pen?” “Yep. Can he come out now?” “It’s supper time,” Buddy reminded them. “After dinner, why don’t we all come out and see if we can help Lester fly,” Lexi suggested. “Yippee! Lester’s gonna fly.” Patty was jubilant again, instantly forgetting her tears. She jumped up and down and clapped her hands, then grabbed Lexi’s hand to pull her toward the house. “Come eat chicken, so Lester can fly. Come on. Come on.” “I hope you know how to launch a pig,” Buddy whispered. “We’ve got all of dinner to figure it out.” **** At the big dining room table, Lexi looked from Harlan to Charlene and tried to hide the smile that kept creeping out. This was going to be a difficult evening if she couldn’t stop thinking about Buddy’s church story. Looking at his father, she tried not to imagine his penis named Faith. 127

M. K. Trent Harlan passed the bowl of ham hocks and green beans to Buddy. “So, where did you grow up, Alexis?” “Baltimore. My father worked at Sparrow’s Point in the steel industry.” “Uh-huh. He one of those high-dollar scientist-types?” “No. He worked the smelter.” Lexi poked at the chicken leg with her knife and fork. It was a delicious meal, but she’d never enjoyed eating chicken in company. Did you just gnaw on it or try the dainty approach and pick it to death? Buddy caught her eye, picked up the entire breast and took a big bite. Lexi gave him a thank-you smile, put the utensils down, and used her fingers. She should have realized how casual they would be here. “One, two, three,” Patty counted to herself as she placed green beans on her fork. “La, la, la, la. Beans are musical fruities.” Harlan ignored what seemed to be a typical Patty activity at the table and eyed Lexi across a forkful of beans. “So, you, um, didn’t come from big money, then.” Faith! Lexi faked a cough to cover a snicker. She wiped her fingers on the crisp white linen napkin, so out of place in this worn old farmhouse. “My family was the working middle class from a middle class neighborhood on the south side of Baltimore. Dad won the lottery and voilá— here we are in West Virginia.” “Must be quite a change for you Baltimore folks. I mean, we’s just simple country folk here,” Harlan said, breaking into a big smile as he imitated Jed Clampett. Lexi sat back, her hands and napkin resting in her lap. “Um....” Harlan held up his hand. “No harm intended. I just see a difference between the Cunninghams and the Becketts. Not that it makes much matter to me, mind you. I reckon you’re just as good as us.” He grinned. “I suppose we won’t holler much if Buddy decides to marry you, will we Charlene?” Buddy nearly choked on a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Charlene pounded him on his back. “Raise your arms over your head, Buddy,” she ordered. “Don’t want you dying right here over this nice 128

Locking Horns chicken dinner. That would put a wet blanket on chicken from here on out.” Buddy pushed his mother’s hand away. “I’m fine, Momma. Don’t you and Daddy go making assumptions just because Lexi came to dinner. Patty wanted her to come. That’s why she’s here.” Lexi watched the interaction with interest. Clearly, the Becketts wanted to marry Buddy off. She guessed they considered her a better catch than Wanda, the Beefsteak Tomato. Well, there wouldn’t be a marriage. Even though her hormones considered Buddy a prime candidate, you can’t base a lifetime commitment on sex. What would they talk about once the bloom came off that particular rose? “There definitely aren’t any marriage plans,” she said, hoping to head off any more assumptions. “I’m just working off my community service at Buddy’s place. When Dad’s better, I’ll head back to Baltimore.” “Hmmmm.” Harlan seemed to mull that over as he picked a prime piece of meat off his chicken breast. “Well, long distance relationships don’t usually work.” “Do you live in the city?” Charlene asked. Lexi closed her eyes for a second, trying not to imagine Charlene Beckett asking Harlan to keep up the Faith. “Yes, ma’am. I have an apartment at Baltimore Harbor.” Charlene’s face lit up. “Right there on the water?” “It’s not exactly on the waterfront. But I have a good view of the water from my place.” Looking dreamily toward the perfectly pressed yellow curtains, Charlene said, “I always thought that would be nice. You know, a cute little place on the shore somewhere.” “Pigs would probably drown,” Harlan said. “Never knew a pig that liked to swim.” Charlene turned toward Harlan. “I wasn’t thinking of taking the pigs along. I was thinking of a vacation. We’ve never been on a vacation.” “We went to Aunt Betty’s place in Romney one year, when Dooley and Arnella got married.” Harlan gave Charlene a smug little grin. “Remember that spot down by the river?” 129

M. K. Trent Lexi looked at Buddy and rolled her eyes. Buddy grinned back and winked. Charlene laughed. “Yes and I remember nine months later Alan came along.” She looked at Lexi. “He was the biggest of all the kids—almost ten pounds. I thought my hips were going to split apart when he was born.” Lexi grimaced. Charlene reached over and touched Lexi’s hand. “Oh, honey. You don’t remember the pain, not really. After that sweet little bundle gets dropped in your arms—well, someday you’ll understand.” Harlan interrupted. “Alexis, you and your father have to come over on Memorial Day. We’re having our annual pig roast and I just know you’d love it.” Lexi nearly choked this time. How was she going to get out of this? “I’ll definitely have to ask Dad,” she said. “It all depends on how he’s doing and if he feels like coming out. He’s been so upset about the stroke and sometimes he’s confused. I just don’t know....” Her voice trailed off as she ran out of excuses. She really didn’t know if her father would want to come to the Beckett’s or if she wanted to. The more invitations she accepted, the harder it would be to explain that the relationship between her and Buddy was business and nothing more. “Well, don’t you worry about it,” Charlene said. She threw a cheerful smile Lexi’s way. “We’ve gotten used to dealing with disabilities since little Patty came along. We’d sure like to have you here. It doesn’t matter if your daddy’s been sick. The company will do him good.” “I’ll ask,” was all she could say. “I’m done with chicken,” Patty announced. “Let’s go make Lester fly.” “Whoa there, young lady,” Harlan replied. “You might be done, but we’re not. Miss Alexis still has a plate full of food.” Patty’s face fell. “But Lester’s gonna fly. We’re gonna miss it.” Lexi reached over and touched Patty’s hand. “I promise you, Lester won’t fly until we get there.” She glanced at Buddy. His face held a combination of gratitude and puzzlement. She addressed her question to 130

Locking Horns Buddy’s father. “Mr. Beckett, do you have a strong rope?” “Sure do. We use it to pull the truck out of the mud.” Lexi smiled. “Then I think we’ve got this problem solved.” Patty squirmed and complained the rest of the meal, anxious for Lester to be Super Pig. Buddy fended off leading questions from his parents. Lexi smiled a lot and complimented Mrs. Beckett on the wonderful meal. “I love fresh bread,” she said. “Where did you get this?” “Why, I made it myself. It came out of the oven just before you and Buddy got here.” “You made this? Wow! I tried to make bread once. It turned out awful. Lead bread. It weighed about a ton and was this thick.” She held up her fingers two inches apart. Charlene laughed. “I did that, too. Back when Harlan and I were first married. Remember that, Harlan?” The man laughed. “Yep. I broke a tooth on it.” He grinned, pointing to one of his eye teeth. “Couldn’t see a thing for a week.” Lexi laughed at his joke. She could see where Buddy got his sense of humor. Harlan Beckett was funny in a down-home sort of way. She had to admit, the Beckett’s made her feel comfortable and welcome. When supper was finished, Patty leaped from her chair and clapped her hands in excitement. “What about these dishes?” her mother asked. Patty’s face fell. Charlene smiled. “I suppose these old dishes can wait. What do you think, Patty?” “Yea. Dishes later.” “Cherry pie, then dishes,” Charlene added. “We’ll watch Lester fly and then we’ll have some cherry pie.” “Okay, Ms. Cunningham,” Buddy whispered. “What’s your brilliant plan?” Lexi gave him a smug look. “Go out to the truck and get one of your tie-downs,” she ordered. “Take the nylon out of the buckles and bring it to the barn.” Buddy cocked an eyebrow at her. “Okay.” “Come on, Patty. Let’s go see Lester.” She took Patty’s hand and stumbled out the door as the little girl literally dragged her along. “Come on, ya’ll,” Lexi hollered over her shoulder. “Lester’s gonna fly.” 131

M. K. Trent Buddy handed Lexi the bright blue nylon strap from his tie-down. He watched as she deftly sized up the pig squealing in his daddy’s arms, tied a few knots, and came up with a makeshift harness. “Where’d you learn to do that?” Lexi grinned. “I’ve done some rappelling. You have to make your own seat and if it doesn’t hold up, you’re out of luck. So, I’ve practiced this a lot.” She held up the harness. “There. Let’s see if it fits Lester.” Buddy took it from her, slipped it under the piglet’s kicking front and hind legs, and tugged it over his belly. His daddy set the pig down and Buddy lifted it off the barn floor with the harness. Lester’s eyes got big and he squealed even louder. “You’re gonna do just fine, Lester,” Buddy said. Not that his words gave any comfort to the piglet dangling like a spider on the end of its silk. “Now what?” he asked. His daddy had the rope Lexi asked for. “Can you hang that over one of the rafters?” she asked. “Sure thing.” A few minutes later, the rope was secured to a rafter high above. It dangled at Lexi’s shoulder. Buddy grinned, knowing exactly what Lexi had planned. He went to work tying the harnessed pig to the end of the rope. Sure enough, it looked like Lester was going to fly. Patty was squealing as loud as Lester. She jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “He’s gonna fly. He’s gonna fly.” Everybody stood back and Buddy gave the piglet a little shove. He swung on the end of his tether while his feet scrambled in the air and his eyes went as wide as the buttons on Buddy’s momma’s coat. But as he swung back and forth, his squeals lessened and he seemed to settle. Sure enough, Lester was flying.

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Chapter 16 Got Your Goat Lexi had created a miracle for Patty. Buddy couldn’t get over it. If he wasn’t careful, the sappy look on his face would stay around long enough for Lexi to see it. He turned away and focused his attention on Patty. But she was hugging Lexi like there was no tomorrow. And Lexi was hugging Patty back, her eyes alight with happiness. He hadn’t seen that look on Lexi’s face—certainly not when she was eighteen. It made his heart full to see the two of them. They were good for each other, Patty and Lexi. “Well, how about that pie?” “Sounds like a winner, honey.” Buddy’s father loosened the ties that held Lester in the air. Buddy helped, grabbing the pig as the harness fell away. Patty looked at Lester with a grin so large she looked like a chipmunk with a stash of sunflower seeds. She reached over, grabbed Lester by the ears, and kissed him on his dirty snout. “I love you, Lester.” Everybody laughed as the pig was returned to his pen. Buddy picked a few ears of dried corn from the bin nearby and tossed them toward Lester. The sty became a massive, squirming sea of piglets diving for the food. Lester seemed no worse the wear for his flight across the barn. He snatched an ear of corn from one of the other piglets and chowed down. As they walked back toward the house, Patty never stopped chattering. Over the din, Lexi caught Charlene’s eye and recognized the mouthed words “thank you”. She smiled at Patty’s mother and Charlene smiled in return. She hadn’t done that much, just tie a pig harness and set the poor beast swinging. But you’d have thought she hung the moon, the way the Beckett clan beamed and went on. She felt the warmth of their sincerity radiating like heat off the Baltimore streets in mid-July. 133

M. K. Trent Patty couldn’t be pried from her side the rest of the evening. Even during Patty’s bath, Lexi had to sit on the closed toilet lid and watch her play. Patty turned pleading eyes on Lexi when she finally had on her pj’s. “Read me a story, Miss Lex. Pleeeaaase?” “Of course I will. Come on, show me your room.” Patty led her to a room on the right. “That’s Bubby’s room,” she announced. “An’ Lenny’s and Georgie’s and Al’s. But now, my neesies and phews sleep there when they come visit.” Lexi peeked in to see two sets of bunk beds and two dressers squeezed into the small, blue room. All the open wall space was filled with music posters and sports banners. Nothing much had changed since the boys left home. Patty moved on to the room on the left. “This is my room. My room, all by myself. I miss Ellie an’ Nanna. They used to sleep with me.” Patty’s room was pink and white, decorated with a Strawberry Shortcake border and frilly curtains. Lexi moved to the bookcase and asked Patty to pick something out. She pulled out a book of children’s stories. “Read me this one.” She opened the book, thumbed through the pages and handed it back. It was Rudyard Kipling’s, The Elephant’s Child. What a surprise. Elephant Child had been one of Lexi’s favorite stories as a child. She began reading and discovered Patty knew the story by heart. They laughed together as they said “Great Gray Green Greasy Limpopo River”. With the story finished, Lexi closed the book. “You sleep tight now,” she murmured, leaning over to kiss Patty’s forehead. Patty flung her little arms around Lexi. “I love you, Miss Lex. You got to marry Bubby, so you can come to my house all the time.” Lexi squeezed her eyes shut. How could she explain to Patty that two people should be in love to get married? “I love you too. Don’t worry. I’ll see you again, Patty,” she whispered. Downstairs, Buddy asked, “Patty all tucked in?” “Yes, I think so.” “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. I’ll show you my favorite spot on the farm.” 134

Locking Horns Lexi glanced at her watch. It was eight-thirty. “I don’t know. Dad....” “He’s in good hands, Lexi. But if you need to call, go ahead.” Lexi shook her head. “No. You’re right. I’ve got to give him space. How else will we know he’s going to be okay? I guess I can stay awhile longer.” Actually, she wanted to stay right here in the warmth of the Beckett family. They were sweet, sincere people who cared deeply about their children. Lexi could see it in the way they doted on Patty and from the pride on their faces when they talked about each one of their nine offspring. Harlan had proudly pointed out that Buddy had been the first Beckett to go to college. Charlene fairly beamed when she said three of Buddy’s younger siblings had followed in his footsteps. Even his oldest sister, Marcy, was taking night classes at Frederick Community College to learn computers. “Momma, we’re going for a walk.” Buddy offered Lexi a jacket. “Sometimes it gets a mite chilly out here in spring,” he said. He wrapped the jacket around her shoulders and escorted her outside. “Where are we headed?” Lexi asked. “Special place.” That’s all he would tell her. Lexi followed Buddy in silence, listening to the wind rustle the new leaves overhead. It was a soothing sound, like a lullaby. In the distance, a dog barked, the pigs grunted as they got settled, and an owl hooted its eerie call. “Barred owl,” Buddy murmured. “I used to be afraid of owls when I first came to West Virginia,” Lexi admitted. “I’d never heard one before, except in scary movies. So I thought they were creepy.” Buddy chuckled. “They are kind of creepy—big eyes and silent as death when they fly. But beautiful and mysterious, too.” He was quiet a minute. “I missed them when I was at college. Them and this.” He stopped at the edge of a creek flowing like silver in the moonlight. It bubbled and gurgled as it wound its way through the tall meadow grass. Buddy sat on the 135

M. K. Trent bank and patted the ground next to him. “Water’s gone down since the rains last week.” “Thank goodness,” Lexi replied. She sat next to him. “Hey, I kept meaning to ask you how the field trip went last Saturday.” Buddy laughed. “Muddy. Everybody had mud up to their knees by the time we’d finished. But it was fun.” “How many kids showed up?” “All of them. The whole class.” “Really?” “Yeah. This is the fourth year I’ve taught and after the first year, everybody comes. Seems they had so much fun listening to Daddy’s stories and eating Momma’s cooking that word got around. Now, everybody in class plans for it.” After an evening with the Beckett’s, Lexi understood why. She wished she were part of a family with such close ties. Her family was small and hardly ever got together. Now that her mother was in Aruba, she hardly ever saw anyone on that side. Before his stroke, Lexi hadn’t seen much of her father or her father’s family either. She blamed herself. It was her own fault for shutting him out of her life. Even if he’d selfishly gone after what he wanted, never considering that his wife and daughter wouldn’t want the same thing, she knew he loved her. He told her with his eyes and the way he held her hand when she’d arrived at the hospital the night of his stroke. Lexi had been quiet a long time. Buddy wondered where her mind was tonight. On Patty and the Glorious Flight of the Piglet? Worry for her father? Him? “Penny for your thoughts,” he whispered. Lexi shrugged. “Not much to tell. Probably not worth a penny.” “That’s doesn’t sound like the Lexi I know.” But was that the Lexi she hid deep inside? He wanted to know. He leaned back on one elbow and stretched his legs in the grass. “Tell me about growing up in the city.” Lexi shrugged again. “What’s to tell? We lived in the same neighborhood from the time I was born until I was almost sixteen. I knew everybody for six square blocks. My relatives lived there. All my friends lived there.” “Kind of like me,” Buddy interjected. 136

Locking Horns “Yeah, except you got to stay here.” “I sense that’s the problem you had in high school.” Lexi yanked a long piece of meadow grass and curled it absently around her fingers. “Yeah. I was pissed at the world. I was pissed at Dad and pissed at Mom for letting Dad do that to us. I was pissed at the horses. I was pissed at the town. I was pissed at the townies. I was pissed at the wind when it blew.” Buddy laughed. “That’s an understatement.” “Sorry I was such a snot.” “You’re still a mite prickly.” Lexi was quiet again and Buddy was sorry he’d said anything. “I didn’t mean....” “It’s okay. You’re right. I’m still pissed at the world most of the time.” “Why? Life is so short. Why waste it being pissed?” “That’s just it. Life is short. I’ve wasted thirty-two years and I have no idea where I’m going.” “Why worry about it? Just point yourself where you want to go and enjoy it.” “Easy for you to say,” Lexi muttered. “You’ve already gotten where you planned to go.” “Me? I certainly hope not,” Buddy replied as he sat up. “If this is the end of the line, I should be dead.” Lexi grinned and the moonlight flashed off her pretty white teeth. In her best Scarlett O’Hara voice, she said, “You’re a far cry from dead, Harlan Beckett.” “I love it when you call me Harlan,” Buddy murmured. “Harlan,” she whispered again. “Stop teasing me, Ms. Cunningham. You’re asking for it, you know.” “Asking for what?” “This.” Buddy leaned over and gently bit her earlobe. The hiss as she inhaled told him how much she liked it. “Or this.” Buddy ran his tongue around the edge of her ear. He could feel her tremble beside him. “Or maybe this,” he whispered. He gave her the biggest raspberry he could muster, right in her ear. “Damn you, Buddy.” Lexi whacked him on the arm, sending him rolling away. Buddy couldn’t stop laughing. “Gotcha,” he said, 137

M. K. Trent lying back on the grass, his arms tucked under his head. Lexi pulled a handful of grass and tossed it at him. “You sure know how to blow the mood. I can see why you don’t have a steady girl.” Buddy glanced in her direction. “I don’t have a steady girl, because I haven’t found one I wanted to go steady with.” Until now. Lexi crawled on her hands and knees to where Buddy lay. He watched, waiting for her to pounce on him. He hoped she would. A roll in the grass would be good for her. A split second later, she was on top of him. He grabbed her wrists and rolled her over. “Now I’ve got you right where I want you, Ms. Cunningham.” “You shit.” With her arms over her head and his body keeping her knees from doing any damage, Buddy leaned over Lexi and studied the light and dark angles of her face. In the moonlight, she looked mysterious and sexy. And, a little like a cornered tigress with cubs nearby. He grinned. “Call me Harlan again.” “No.” “Come on, Lexi. Don’t make me force it out of you.” Lexi snorted and looked away. Buddy took the opportunity to run his tongue down her neck. She gasped, clamped her teeth together, and turned to stare up at him with dark, unyielding eyes. Buddy leaned down, nibbled her chin, and ran the tip of his tongue across her lips. He could feel Lexi’s body go rigid under him. He touched his lips to hers with tiny, feathery kisses. He felt her breath, hot and quick against his face. But she refused to open her mouth to him. “Still pissed at the world?” he asked softly. “At you.” “At me? Why? Because I’m stronger than you?” He demonstrated by holding both her wrists with one hand, leaving his other free to tease her. “No. Because you’re infuriating. That’s why.” “Does this infuriate you?” He rested his hand on her breast and found the hard peak through her shirt and bra. It rolled like a marble between his fingers. 138

Locking Horns “No,” she hissed. “Yes! Oh God, Buddy, stop it.” “Why. Don’t you like it?” He lightly pinched her nipple, pulling it taut before letting go. Lexi moaned and tossed her head. “I could do that with my teeth, Lexi. Would you like that?” She had her eyes closed, but he felt her chest rising and falling like she’d run ten miles. “Yes,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Just ask me. I will.” He waited for her answer. When it came, it was almost a sob. “Harlan. Please.” Buddy let go of Lexi’s arms, aware that she might try to strangle him. He hoped not. It would ruin a really hot interlude. To his delight, Lexi wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth against him. She placed wet kisses on his cheeks, his chin, and then pulled his mouth against hers. She sucked his tongue inside like a wild thing. Buddy wanted this first time with Lexi to be perfect. Like one of his poems, he wanted to run his fingers along the creamy edge of her jaw line, to let her hair spill through his fingers like spun silk, to take her on a dream ride to the end of the rainbow. Instead, they were pulling at each other’s clothes like horny teenagers. So much for poetry. The buttons on Lexi’s blouse easily opened under his quick fingers. Much to his delight, she had on a front latch bra. It popped like a rubber band, exposing creamy skin and dark nipples. He lifted the weight of her breast in his hand, bringing it to his waiting mouth. Lexi arched and moaned. “Harlan, Harlan, Harlan.” Buddy thought he would burst then and there. To slow his burn, he sat over her and shoved his shirt from his shoulders to toss it aside. He leaned up on his knees, unfastening the snap and zipper of Lexi’s jeans. Underneath, he caught the glimmer of white silk in the moonlight. “Damn, woman.” He slid off her, bringing her pants with him. She lay mostly naked in the light of the full moon, breasts heaving and eyes dark and hungry. 139

M. K. Trent “Harlan,” she whispered. “Yeah, baby. I’m getting there.” Standing up, he yanked off his boots, tossing them aside. He quickly unzipped his jeans and slid them off with his briefs. In the cool night air, his erection felt like a burning torch. “Harlan.” Buddy knelt over her, watching as she took him all in. Her gaze burned his skin, as her eyes slid over his chest and down past the vee of hair to his penis. She reached out and grasped him. “Harlan.” Buddy thought he’d lose it right there. “Gotta do it now or it’ll be all over,” he moaned. The words slid languidly off her tongue. “So do it, Harlan.” Buddy found the soft mound of hair with the tip of his erection. Already, he could smell the musk of her sex, leading him like a beacon toward home. Suddenly, there was hot breath on his butt and the iciest wet nose he’d ever felt. With an instinctive yelp, he jumped forward, landing hard on Lexi. They both rolled down the embankment into the cold water of the creek.

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Chapter 17 How do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Poems “Baaaaaa.” Lexi came up sputtering, her wet blouse clinging to her boobs. “Baaaaaa.” Buddy was sputtering too. “God damn. Daddy’s gotta keep that goat chained up.” Lexi was gasping and crawling up the creek bank. Buddy stood naked as water dripped off his rapidly disappearing erection. Lexi started to laugh. She sat on the embankment, looking from Buddy in the creek, to the goat that stared at Buddy’s penis like it was dinner. “Baaaaaa.” Lexi held her sides and roared. Buddy waded out of the creek and sat next to her, picking a piece of watercress from his hair. He tossed it aside, trying to be pissed at the goat. He was, of course. After all, it had just ruined what could have been the Super Bowl of sexual encounters. But Lexi’s laughter was infectious. Before he could stop himself, a loud guffaw erupted. Then another. He lay back on the bank, roaring with laughter. “Damn goat,” he muttered. The goat wandered over, picked up his briefs, and started nibbling on them. “Hey!” Buddy lurched for the goat and it took off through the long grass toward the barnyard. Lexi only laughed harder. “You shit. I swear you’re in cahoots with that goat.” Lexi sat up and wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. It was just so funny. You with a goat up your butt.” She snickered again. “Next time, I’ll let you find out how funny it is, Ms. Cunningham.” Buddy shook his head and picked up her 141

M. K. Trent underwear. Tossing it at her, he added, “We better get dressed. I need to get my drawers from the goat before Daddy does.” As they neared the house ten minutes later, Lexi saw Harlan and Charlene dancing through the open curtains of the kitchen. The soft strains of a country song wafted through the darkness. I love the way you love me. Harlan nuzzled Charlene’s ear and kissed her gently. It was so romantic, just the two of them in the soft light of the kitchen, dancing like lifelong lovers. “Well, I guess Daddy doesn’t care that the goat’s got my drawers,” Buddy whispered. “That’s worse than the cat having your tongue, Harlan,” Lexi murmured. She snickered and Buddy gave her a gentle bash on her arm. “I better take you home. You’re getting way too sassy, woman.” She brought out her drawl. “Say that again, Harlan.” “What?” “Woman. It makes me hot, the way you say it.” “Nope. Gotta beg me first.” “You’re a shit. Hey, there go your drawers.” Buddy looked where she pointed. “Dirty crook, made you look.” Harlan appeared in the doorway. Charlene was right behind him. “Hey, there they are.” He came out on the porch steps and squinted at Buddy. “Hair’s wet.” He didn’t squint at Lexi. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Ain’t just your hair that’s wet, young lady. You been swimming with your clothes on?” “Sort of. We fell in the creek.” She realized too late, her error in mentioning the tumble into the water. She was glad the relative darkness hid her blush. A smile came over Harlan’s face and she knew he’d pieced it all together. He looked at Lexi’s dry jeans, then over at Buddy’s dry clothes. “Seems only parts of you went in the water.” It was about that time the goat wandered by, still carrying Buddy’s drawers. Buddy was quick on the uptake. He snatched his underwear and wadded them up to stuff in his pocket. They didn’t quite fit and he ended up with a flag hanging out. 142

Locking Horns “Daddy, you gotta keep that goat chained up.” “I try, son, but you know goats. If they want to go somewhere, they just go. Don’t matter how strong the chain.” He watched the goat disappear around the house. “Better go get him. He’s headed toward the garden.” Harlan followed the goat. Charlene motioned for Buddy and Lexi to come inside. “You want some coffee?” she asked. “No thank you, Mrs. Beckett. I need to be getting home to Dad. Everything was wonderful this evening.” “I want to thank you for what you did for Patty. That was really sweet.” She turned toward Buddy, wagging her finger at him. “Now, you remember not to tease Patty. You know she doesn’t understand the difference.” “Yes, ma’am. I know.” “I put together some leftover chicken and beans for you, Lexi. And some cherry pie. I thought maybe your daddy just might like some.” She pulled a bag out of the refrigerator. “Here you go.” “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” “I know. But I did.” Harlan came grumbling into the kitchen. “Damn goat,” he muttered. “You fixing to leave now?” he asked, looking from the bag of food to Buddy and Lexi. “Yeah, Daddy. Lexi needs to be getting back home.” “You be sure to check with your daddy about the picnic. You know we got plenty of food and we’d love to meet your family.” “I will. Thanks again.” Buddy hugged his mother and kissed her cheek. “Love you Momma. Thanks for supper.” To his father, he said, “See you soon, Daddy.” “Yep. I reckon so.” Lexi felt warm and satisfied. “Your family is wonderful, Buddy.” “Yeah, I think I’ll keep them. Now that goat....” Lexi laughed. “Got to keep the goat too. After all, he’s great comic relief.” “His timing sucks,” Buddy replied. Lexi wasn’t sure if she was glad the goat had interrupted them. True, she was as frustrated as she’d ever been. But she was certainly discovering how totally 143

M. K. Trent hot making love to Buddy Beckett would be. It was probably for the best. When she left for home, she didn’t need to be saddled with a memory like that. Buddy dropped her off at home with a gentle kiss before opening the front door. “Goodnight,” she whispered. “Thanks for taking me tonight.” “You’re welcome any time,” he answered. Inside, she closed the door and leaned against it as Buddy drove away into the night. A tiny smile touched her lips. Buddy Beckett. Who’d a thunk? “Lexi? That you?” “Dad? What are you still doing awake?” Lexi headed toward her father’s room. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, he looked better than she’d seen him in weeks. She hoped it wasn’t just the lighting that made him look this good. “Up. Um, waiting. Waiting for you.” “You didn’t have to do that.” “I know. I want, uh, wanted to, uh. How was it?” Lexi sat on her father’s bedside. He took her hand. “Really nice, Dad. Buddy’s parents are sweet. And Patty is so adorable.” “Patty.” Her father’s face lit up. “I like Patty. Want to, to, uh. Look, no, um, see her. See her again.” Lexi looked at her father’s hand, tracing the thick veins with her fingers. “We, um, we got invited to their place for Memorial Day. Family picnic thing, I guess. I told them we might not be able to go. I know how you hate to go out in public like this. I can send them our regrets.” “We’ll go.” Lexi’s head snapped up at her father’s abrupt decision. “Huh? You want to go?” “I want to go,” he repeated. “I want, want....to walk. Good reason to walk.” “They won’t mind the wheel chair....” His voice was loud and firm. “I want to walk at the picnic.” Lexi smiled and cupped her father’s whiskery cheek in her hand. “If that will get you walking, then we’ll go.” Ray lay back on his pillows and smiled. Perfect, he thought. Perfect. The picnic wasn’t that far off. But, he 144

Locking Horns knew he’d be walking by then—maybe with a cane. He’d used the walker this evening while Lexi was gone. He made it all the way to the kitchen, got himself seated at the table, and drank a glass of lemonade Maria poured for him. They’d played gin rummy for an hour, before he made it back to the bedroom on his own legs. It had been slow, but it felt good to be his own person again. And then, this was for Buddy Beckett’s family reunion. The more Lexi went to his place to work, the more she blossomed. He’d seen it. She smiled all the time. She hummed to herself. She had a glow only love could bring. The day she’d come home late, all she’d talked about was Beckett, the steers getting out, and the little bull she saved. Anyone could tell how much she cared about the animal and the man who owned it. She might not realize it, but he knew she was in love with Buddy Beckett. Upstairs in her room, Lexi propped the pillows on her bed behind her and dialed Carrie. “Yo, woman. How was meet the parents night?” “You wouldn’t believe it Carrie.” From the special chicken dinner, Lester’s flight across the barn, and reading to Patty—Lexi couldn’t stop talking. “So, I take it you enjoyed your night in Beckettville,” Carrie said when Lexi finally took a breath. “Yeah. It was really nice. Buddy was nice and, manoh-man, his daddy has this goat. Buddy was just about to, you know, do his thing, when the goat sneaked up and stuck its cold nose up Buddy’s butt. We ended up in the creek and I’m about as sexually frustrated as one woman can get, Carrie.” “Do his thing? You mean, uh, like you were going to have sex?” “We were doing the clothes ripping thing. And then the goat came along. I couldn’t stop laughing and, well, you know how laughing at a guy makes his penis peter. Between that and the cold creek water, Buddy couldn’t have done anything, even if....if I’d begged him. Not that I did, mind you. I almost did. Well, I guess I did sort of beg. I said please. To a guy, that’s begging, isn’t it?” “You have got to slow down, Lexi. You’re running a mile a minute.” 145

M. K. Trent Lexi slid down on the bed until she was staring at the ceiling. “I’m never going to get a wink of sleep tonight, Carrie.” “Well, try reading the phone book. Sometimes it helps.” “Yeah. Let my fingers do the walking, huh?” Carrie giggled. “Guess since Beckett petered out, that’s all that’s left, girlfriend.” **** Wild, raucous notes pierced the night. Buddy closed his eyes and wailed along with them. Times like this, he was glad his neighbors weren’t too close. He could pour out his soul at midnight and nobody cared. The last note hung, reverberating against the walls. He’d played for two hours straight and still felt restless. He couldn’t get Lexi out of his mind. Turning the amplifier off, he stored his guitar in its case, chugged what was left of his beer, and turned the light off. He made his way upstairs, stopped to brush his teeth, and threw warm water over his face. In his room, he undressed and laid down, pulling the sheet to his neck and closing his eyes. The turmoil and unresolved feelings caused him to toss and turn and get tangled in the bedding, trying to put Lexi Cunningham’s teasing voice from his mind. Finally, he threw the sheet off and got up, pacing in the moonlight coming through his bedroom window. The scent of cattle and damp soil was pungent on the soft night air. Buddy leaned against the window jamb and ran his hand through his already-tousled hair. The picture he’d had of Lexi all these years was fading, replaced by one of a confused but capable woman who probably didn’t even know her own potential for love. Lexi Cunningham had torn his teenage heart to pieces and here she was, thirteen years later, doing it again. That old stirring that used to hit him in the middle of the night made him turn on the light, shuffle through the scraps of paper on his dresser, find a pencil, and let his heart overflow. Buddy hadn’t written many poems in the thirteen years since Lexi had hurt him—a few about his struggle 146

Locking Horns to grow up. But tonight, it was all about Lexi—how she looked in the rain, all wet and sensual. It was as if the pencil moved on its own. Lexi in the Rain Big droplets of water stream from your hair, trickle down your face like cleansing tears overflowing the deep brown pools of your eyes. Bright color paints your cheeks new roses in a field of cream. How can I not love you, Goddess that reigns in splendor? You bring sun where only dark clouds abide. You bring rainbow color from the gray of rain. You bring spring to the winter of my soul. Can’t you see the Love that abides within my heart? B. Beckett Buddy re-read the poem and dropped the pencil on his nightstand. He stared at the words on the page, reverently folded the paper in half, then half again. He rose slowly, opened the closet door, and reached for the hairdryer box. He froze and his heart stopped. Lexi had rummaged through his room looking for the hairdryer. No doubt she’d opened the box. Had she seen more than the old pictures of family and friends? He shoved the closet door wide. The hairdryer box 147

M. K. Trent was on the shelf where it always was. He grabbed it and dumped the contents on the bed, picking up the envelope, wondering if Lexi’s fingerprints were on it. He ripped opened the yellowed envelope, spilling its contents on the bed. Kneeling, he picked up a piece of paper. He opened it furiously, almost ripping it along the ragged folds. To Lexi If I could touch your face cradle it in my hands I’d gently trace the outline of your shape until I had it memorized. If I could touch your hair, let it spill through my fingers, I’d rejoice in the silky feel of it, then steal a lock to bring back the memory when you’re gone. If I could be your lover I’d bring you joy like none you’ve ever felt. I’d take you away above the rainbow to dance in sunshine and make your dreams come true. B. Beckett He tossed in on the bed, found another and read it. Dear God. Had Lexi Cunningham read his poems?

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Chapter 18 Confessions of the Heart Buddy’s chest constricted until he could hardly breathe. She didn’t act like she’d read them. But, what was that look she’d given him in the barnyard, when Randy had her backed against the barn? Sad? Sorry? Like she knew she’d ripped his heart out thirteen years ago? He laid his head on the bed against his folded arms and squeezed his eyes shut. Did she know what she’d meant to him? If she’d read the poems, surely she knew his heart thirteen years ago. But did she know he still meant every word he’d ever written? He realized he loved her more now than he had back then. Maybe not more—differently. It wasn’t childish lust that drove it. It was a need so deep, it cut a canyon through his soul. Buddy carefully put the papers and pictures back in the box. He returned it to its place on the closet shelf and flipped off the light. With his arms behind his head, he lay and stared at the ceiling fan. Its blades whirled like ghosts in the soft light from the barnyard. He dreaded the day Lexi’s father would be whole again. The city girl would go back to her city and he’d be left with a broken heart all over again. **** Lexi woke to the blaring clock radio announcing some new car deal. She rolled over and smacked it to silence the irritating noise. “Just a few more minutes,” she muttered, covering her head with her pillow. The next time she opened her eyes, it was almost nine. But there was the unmistakable smell of coffee wafting up the stairs. Had Maria come over this morning? She wasn’t supposed to be here, was she? It was Thursday, right? Shoving the covers off, Lexi slipped out of bed, grabbed her robe, and headed downstairs. Her 149

M. K. Trent father sat at the table, dressed and reading the morning paper. A cup of coffee sat on the table next to an empty plate with tell-tale toast crumbs. “Dad?” Her father lowered the paper and turned toward her. “Did you, um, um expect the prestigi....uh, precedent, president?” “No, but....where’s Maria?” “No Maria. Don’t think Maria was going—no— coming today.” “Who fixed coffee and toast?” With a big, lopsided grin, her father said, “Me.” Lexi stared a minute, then threw her arms around him. “You did this all by yourself? Oh, Dad, I’m so proud and excited. I mean, wow.” “Coffee sucks,” he replied. “Butter.” “Bitter?” He nodded. “Bitter.” Plunking herself in a chair, Lexi took a good look at her father. His shirt was buttoned crooked and he had missed a patch of stubble on one cheek. But he was trying so hard to re-gain his independence, she had to admire him. He’d never been a quitter and this just proved he still wasn’t. Her thoughts turned to Baltimore and returning to her job. Funny, but what had seemed so far out of reach and overwhelmingly important now gave her a moment’s pause. She missed her job, her independence, and her friends. So why wasn’t she totally elated and ready to pack her bags? Worry about her father? That he would have a relapse and fall? That he’d forget his pills or push himself too hard and injure himself? Buddy Beckett popped into her mind. It didn’t help that he’d been on her mind most of the night. She’d lain awake a long time last night, frustrated, and confused about her feelings. Beckett was a purely sexual need, right? She didn’t love him. She didn’t want to marry him. She just wanted hot sex with him. So why was she suddenly so reluctant to see Charles Town in her rear view mirror? No matter. Today she’d talk to the neurologists, the 150

Locking Horns physical therapist, the speech pathologist and Maria. Then she could call her boss about returning to work. That’s what she really needed to do—immerse herself in real life and things would fall back into place. Granted, she still had those hours to work off at Buddy’s. But, maybe she’d come back a couple of weekends and knock them all out. Cows still needed tending on weekends. Filing still needed to be done and refrigerators defrosted. “Ugh!” she muttered. No more refrigerators. “What?” “Nothing, Dad.” As the day progressed, Lexi realized how far her father had come. He still tired easily. He no longer dragged his right foot, but picked it up with purpose. The strength in his right arm was almost 100 percent. He gripped things with ease, including the pencil while he practiced writing. His physical progress was more pronounced than his verbal and written skills. Even his speech had improved. He could carry on simple conversations without having to guess what he meant. He was like a child discovering his body and mind all over again. But he had changed, somehow. She remembered the years she’d lived here. He spent so much time with his horses and his workers, and so little time with her and her mother. Even the times she’d visited, he’d been so preoccupied with his own life, he hardly noticed hers. Now, he wanted to know all about her—her job in Baltimore and her apartment. He’d never been to her apartment, never met her friends. This last week, he’d spent hours listening to her. He seemed to value their relationship more than she thought he ever would. Too bad it was too late for his marriage. She sighed and headed out the door, following her father to the horse barns for the first time since his stroke. Would he want to listen after he got his horses back? Or would he become the Ray Cunningham who had left his family behind? **** “Hello, Doris. This is Lexi Cunningham.” Lexi listened to her boss’s enthusiastic greeting. “Lexi. Great to hear from you. Your ears must have 151

M. K. Trent been burning. I was just talking about you.” “Me?” Lexi hoped it wasn’t about canning her at the gym. She wanted to discuss going back to work. “Yes. You.” “Actually, I was calling to discuss coming back to work.” “That’s wonderful. When?” “I was thinking the first of part of June. Dad is doing great here and he’s got an excellent support system. I think by the beginning of June, I’ll be able to leave without worrying.” But would she be able to leave Buddy? Funny how that thought slipped in. “Great. The timing is perfect. I have an opening coming up and you’d be perfect to fill the spot.” A little tingle of excitement made Lexi’s stomach flip. She’d always wanted a managerial position at the gym. Maybe this was her chance. “Sounds interesting. What is it?” “We’ve been talking about expanding Atlas Gyms to other areas along the east coast. It’s becoming a reality in the next couple of months. We’re opening a new Atlas in Philadelphia. We need someone who understands people to set up the new gym. I thought of you immediately.” “Why me? I don’t have a business background.” “No, but you’re so good with clients. You know what it takes to make a high-dollar client happy. I thought you would fit perfectly into the personnel slot. You’d be hiring and overseeing our trainers. What do you think?” “Wow! I’m really flattered. Um, I’ll consider it. Can I come up and talk to you about it?” “Sure. How about tomorrow?” “I can be there by the afternoon. I have an appointment in the morning. How does 2:00 sound?” “See you then.” **** Lexi woke early Friday morning. The sunshine was just peeking in her window. Outside, she heard the excited twittering of birds acting out their springtime ritual—courting and nesting. She listened to the distant sounds of her father’s horses whinnying in the fields, the constant clop, clop, clop of hooves as one of the hands put 152

Locking Horns a racer through its paces. She’d never allowed herself to enjoy this place. She’d always kept her resentment right up front. But this morning, the place felt different. Or maybe she was different. She actually enjoyed the sounds and smells of her father’s thoroughbred farm. She walked to the barns with him yesterday and watched as one of the new foals had gone outside with its mother for the first time. It was an incredible sight, this tiny creature on wobbly legs going out to greet the world. It had filled her heart with joy. Lexi popped out of bed for a quick wake-up shower. The clock on her bedside table read 5:25 a.m. She hadn’t been up this early in years. The gym opened early, but her clients didn’t start showing up until nine. She liked to stay up late and get up late. The world was a different place at half past five in the morning. Brighter? More colorful? Open for any possibility? She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt full of energy and life. Lexi bounced downstairs and made a pot of coffee. She grabbed a bagel, toasted it, and slathered it with strawberry cream cheese. Taking it and her coffee, she went out back where the sun was already warming the porch. She decided it was the best bagel and cream cheese she’d ever had. She washed it down with hot coffee and went inside to see about her father. He was still asleep. She should stay and get him breakfast. But he’d gotten his own yesterday. It would do him good to get himself up and dressed today. Maybe her confidence in him would help boost his self-confidence. Lexi decided to go to Buddy’s early. After all, what else did she have to do this time of the morning? Gathering her keys and purse, she quietly slipped out the front. All the way to Buddy’s, Lexi imagined the look on Buddy’s rugged, Marlboro Man face when she showed up this early in the morning. He’d be shocked. Surprised. Happy? Yes, she thought. She wanted him to be happy to see her. She admitted to herself that she would be happy to see him. As much as she needed to keep Beckett at arms length, she wanted to pull him close. Damn those 153

M. K. Trent girly hormones. Maybe a good roll in the hay would get him out of her system. She just needed a steamy round of hot sex and her gotta have it hormones would be satisfied. She could go back to Baltimore and carry on with life. After all, that’s what she was going to do anyway. She might as well check out the Beckett-tool up close and personal before she left. If she didn’t, she’d spend a lot of time wondering what it might have been like. She’d built this whole thing up in her mind to the point that reality would probably be a let-down. It would be easier to go back to her real life, her job, and her future without being hampered by a fertile imagination. Lexi pulled into the barnyard at Buddy’s place. Even before she got out, she heard the ruckus in the barn— bellowing followed by cursing. Beaver came running out, saw her, and ran back inside. Curious, she followed him. She heard Buddy’s strained voice. “So what if she’s here? I’m busy. Get her started on something.”

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Chapter 19 What It’s All About Beaver approached her cautiously. “We got a situation and Buddy ain’t got time for you,” he said. “Oh.” Lexi’s heart fell. Buddy was pushing her off on Beaver. Her sunny morning came crashing down. “Well, I can just dust or something,” she said half-heartedly. Another loud bellow came from a stall in the back. “What’s going on?” she asked. “One of his best breeders is in labor. She’s havin’ a hard time. Thought you were the vet.” “Can I see?” “Nothin’ to see. She’s just layin’ there dyin’.” “Oh, no!” Lexi pushed past Beaver and followed the sounds. In the far back stall, Buddy knelt by the huge cow. His hand rested on her laboring belly. She knelt next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Can I help?” “Unless you’re a vet, I don’t reckon so.” “What’s the problem?” “Don’t know. I suspect the calf is breech. She’s not getting anywhere but tired. She’s down, the calf will die, and so will she if we can’t get it out soon.” The cow bellowed again as her belly contracted. Lexi grimaced. In her mind, she remembered what Charlene had said about giving birth to Alan. How her hips had nearly split apart. Poor cow. From the back of the animal, Lexi saw two hooves protrude. “Hey. There it is,” she hollered. Buddy looked and grabbed the hooves before they could slip back inside. They were slippery and covered in the sac. He held on with a mighty effort. “Get me gloves,” he ordered. Lexi leaped up and ran into Beaver. “Get him gloves,” she hollered. Beaver went scrambling and returned with three pairs of leather gloves and a rope. He handed them to Lexi. 155

M. K. Trent “What’s this for?” Lexi asked, holding up the rope. Beaver shrugged. “My daddy uses it sometimes to pull a calf out. You know, tie it to the hooves and pull.” “Sounds barbaric.” Buddy’s muscles were straining to hold onto the slick little set of hooves. His hands slipped and Lexi watched the calf disappear back inside. “Damn it to hell,” Buddy cursed. “Damn it!” “Here’s the gloves. Maybe you can hold on next time.” Lexi handed him the gloves, then watched as he put his slimy hands into them. She made a mental note to toss the gloves when this was all over. On the next contraction, Buddy got a good grip on the calf. Under his T-shirt, Lexi could see his muscles quiver with the effort. Even though the morning air was cool, it was stifling in the stall. Perspiration made Buddy’s hair wet and sweat stained the shirt under his arms. Sweaty men didn’t usually trip her trigger, but right now, Buddy was the most impressive man she’d even known. He was hot, sweaty, and tired. Yet he persisted. This was a life and death struggle and, she couldn’t help but admire his dedication. She sensed it wasn’t just about the money gained or lost for his business. It was about the calf, the cow, and life itself. Another contraction and Buddy pulled with all his might. The calf’s hind legs were out before it was over. The cow raised her head slightly and gave a sad sound. “Fight, you damned cow,” Buddy muttered between clenched teeth. Beaver shoved Lexi out of the way and wrapped the rope around the calf’s back legs. The amniotic sac broke and spilled fluid all over Buddy as he knelt in the stall. “Pull real gentle but constant on the next contraction. We gotta get it out or it won’t be able to breathe,” Beaver said. Lexi slipped her hands into the gloves and grasped the end of the rope. She might be small, but she was strong. Years of working out hadn’t gone to waste on her. When Buddy hollered “Now”, she pulled with a steady, even tension. She didn’t see it happen, but the calf must have slid out. She landed hard on her backside outside the stall. 156

Locking Horns Beaver started hollering and Buddy continued cursing. Lexi watched as they both worked furiously to remove the remaining birth sac from the calf’s head. Tears caught her unaware as the tiny little thing gasped and took its first breath. How beautiful! She’d never seen anything born before. And here it was, the miracle of life. She sat there bawling and laughing at the same time. The two men were on their knees, gently moving the calf toward its mother’s head. She watched as the cow lifted its head, nosed her calf, and licked it. Soon, the calf was bawling and struggling to its feet. Lexi started blubbering again. “We need to get momma up,” Buddy announced, wiping his forehead with the wadded hem of his filthy Tshirt. Lexi pulled the gloves off and wiped furiously at the stream of tears that didn’t seem to want to stop. She scrambled to her feet. “Can I help?” she asked, her voice hoarse with emotion. Buddy turned toward her. It was like he noticed for first time there was a female present. “Is something wrong?” Lexi sniffled, feeling totally stupid. “It’s just—I’ve never seen a birth before. I know-emotional women get in the way, don’t they?” She turned to leave. “Hey. Come back here. You were great.” He reached out with a still-gloved hand and she sidled away. He grinned, pulled the gloves off and tossed them at her. He laughed as she dodged them. “Emotional is okay. Squeamish doesn’t get it done.” “Sorry,” she said, lifting her shoulder and giving him an innocent look. “City-girl.” Buddy glanced at his watch. “Didn’t know a city-girl got up this early.” He was being a smart-ass again, but his eyes gave him away. There was that happy to see you twinkle and the not quite controlled corners of his mouth. She gave him her famous chin-tilt and pretended to inspect her nails. “There’s a lot about this city-girl you don’t know.” “Wanna come to my room and show me?” he asked, 157

M. K. Trent his voice low and raspy. “Hey, boss,” Beaver interrupted. “You got a minute to tend this cow?” Buddy gave her a Neanderthal later in my cave look and yanked his cell phone off his belt. He tossed it to Lexi. “Call the vet again and see if he’s coming, would you? Just hit re-dial.” He turned back toward the cow, who suddenly seemed not to be just lyin’ there dyin’. It looked like she might be contemplating getting up on her own. An hour later, the vet had come and gone. Buddy was showering and Lexi was in his kitchen struggling to keep a pan of bacon from burning. She adjusted the burner and poked at the strips. A large blob of hot grease hit her thumb. “Yeow!” She stuck her thumb under the faucet and inspected it. Maybe it wouldn’t blister. From the oven came the unmistakable aroma of baking biscuits. She’d found the package of frozen biscuits and followed the directions. The bowl of scrambled eggs was ready to throw in the pan. Somehow, this all had to come together like clock work. She had a whole new respect for her mother’s cooking skills. “Smells good,” Buddy said as he entered the kitchen. His face was ruddy from his shave and his hair was damp. His jeans were molded to his butt and the Van Halen Tshirt accented his perfectly sculpted farmer’s muscles. The tell-tale odor of after-shave mingled with bacon and biscuits. Lexi smiled. “I hope it tastes as good. This is a real challenge, you know. I’m used to frozen, boxed, and takeout.” “Need some help?” “Not yet.” Lexi noticed the oil in the egg pan was beginning to smoke. “Crap!” Turning her attention back to cooking was difficult with Buddy standing there looking like some western Sex God. Buddy poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. “Appreciate you cooking.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself. When this is all over, you might not appreciate it.” Buddy laughed. “Long as I don’t break an eye tooth on a biscuit,” he said. “Need to be able to see to grade my 158

Locking Horns finals today.” ”Your jokes are as bad as your daddy’s.” “Yeah. I take after him a bit.” Lexi stirred the eggs and flipped the bacon out on a paper towel to drain. She peeked in the oven. The biscuits were actually turning brown. This might come out okay after all. Ten minutes later, she and Buddy were at the table slathering butter on hot biscuits, spooning scrambled eggs onto their plates, and nibbling on crisp bacon. Lexi looked across the table and grinned. “I can’t believe I really did this.” “Why? Don’t you cook at home?” “Me? I nuke stuff. Stoves are foreign objects to me.” Buddy laughed. “City-girl?” Lexi tilted her head and shoved an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Probably not. It’s just me. Mom was so efficient. She never bothered to have me help. When I got out on my own, I had enough money to eat out anytime I wanted. So it’s more spoiled brat than city-girl.” Buddy tore another biscuit in half and dripped honey over it. “What happened to your mom? I know she’s not here anymore, but you never talk about her.” Lexi stared into her half-empty coffee cup before finally looking up at Buddy. “She ran off to Aruba with the gardener.” Buddy stopped with the biscuit half-way to his mouth. “Really? I thought that sort of thing only happened in movies.” She picked up her coffee and took a sip. “Yeah. So did I. But it happened.” Honey dripped from Buddy’s biscuit onto his plate. He didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t get it. Your mom had everything, didn’t she?” Lexi set her cup on the table, feeling Buddy’s intense gaze on her. “She had everything except Dad. He was so intent on training a winning horse, he forgot he had a family. We were sort of left to our own pursuits. I went to college and stayed in Baltimore afterward. Mom got bored and ran off with a guy who thought she made the sun rise and set.” She toyed with a piece of biscuit on her plate. “That’s what love’s all about, isn’t it? Being with someone 159

M. K. Trent who makes the sun rise and set for you?” “That’s what I always thought it should be like.” The corners of Buddy’s mouth curved almost imperceptibly. He added, “Daddy would throw in being a good cook, too.” Lexi tossed her napkin on her plate and sat back. “Gawd, Beckett. Your daddy is such a diehard Southerner. What would he do without your momma?” “Probably die.” Buddy gave her a full-blown smile. “You saw them. She makes the sun rise and set. How would he get along without her?” Lexi shrugged. “How does anyone?” He caught her eyes and held her gaze. She saw the deep-seated need in them, the gnawing hunger and the lonely sixteen-year old boy waiting for someone to make the sun rise and set. For one brief moment, she wanted to be that someone. And then reality set in. Buddy Beckett wasn’t her type. He didn’t live where she lived. He wouldn’t know what to do in a city with a population bigger than eastern West Virginia. She was deluding herself. The only thing that would work between them was hot sex. Even though sex could set off a lot of great fireworks, it wouldn’t make the sun rise and set.

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Chapter 20 Audience with the Queen Lexi hummed as she cleaned the stall where Lady Luck had birthed her calf. The two of them were already out in the field enjoying the spring weather. Buddy was God knows where. She thought he’d said something about getting feed, before he’d ridden off in his ratty old pickup. Beaver was somewhere, lurking in the shadows or whatever he did out here. Behind her, Lexi heard a shuffling and then hot breath on her back. She spun around, intending to give Beaver a piece of her mind. Instead, there stood Randy with his big sappy brown eyes. “Mawwww.” The little calf flared his nostrils and lowered his head to rub against her thigh. She reached out and scratched his head, her fingers digging into the short, coarse hair between his budding horns. She could have sworn he moaned. “You little love-bug” she cooed. “What are we going to do with you? You’re supposed to be out grazing under the wide West Virginia sky and instead, you’re following me around like a puppy.” Randy’s eyes closed and he snuffled. He shifted his head to take advantage of Lexi’s massage skills. She laughed softly. What was Buddy going to do with this little Houdini who kept escaping from the field, especially when he grew up to be a full-sized, testosterone-loaded bull? “I guess I won’t have to worry about that, will I?” After all, she’d probably be in Philly. The discussions with Doris had gone well. She’d agreed to go up the first week in June and meet with the managers of the new Atlas Gym. If that went well, she’d go apartment hunting. An almost overwhelming sadness came over her. She’d lived in Baltimore for all but two years of her life. All her friends lived there. All her favorite hangouts were 161

M. K. Trent in the Baltimore area. And Buddy Beckett was here and would never leave. Lexi propped the silage fork against the stall boards and pushed Randy out the doorway. “Come on. You need to get interested in Madonna or one of her heifers. I’m going to leave your hairy little bovine butt behind and I don’t want you moping around like Pinocchio. You’re never going to be a real boy.” She walked toward the field, opened the gate, and led Randy through. “There. See that cutie over there? The one making eyes at you? And don’t give me any crap about her horns being longer than yours. You’ll make up for it someday.” Lexi slipped out and closed the gate. She looked back over her shoulder as she walked away. Randy’s sad soulful eyes tore at her heart. Would Buddy give her the same look when she left? She hadn’t even told him about the job offer yet. Not that he was part of her decision. He was just the guy she currently had the hots for. One who had written her love poems thirteen years ago and wanted a lot more than she could give him. With one more look at Randy, she headed toward the office to record the grades for Buddy’s college class finals. **** The week went fast for Lexi. The time she spent at Buddy’s went all too quickly. If she hadn’t been so busy making arrangements for her father’s care, she would have put in more time at Buddy Beckett’s Longhorn ranch. The old farmhouse felt comfortable. The cattle in the fields gave her a sense of contentment. She’d seen more sunrises this week than she’d seen in years. On Friday, Lexi headed home, taking back roads instead of the highway. She enjoyed warm sun on her shoulders, a spring breeze in her hair, the smells of fertile soil and drying hay. Who would have thought Lexi Cunningham, poster child for city lights, would ever enjoy a day in Hicksville? Lexi parked her convertible and headed toward the back door. She heard her father and Maria talking softly and laughing. It was good to hear her father’s laughter again. She walked through the kitchen door in time to see her father bend down and kiss Maria. It wasn’t a little 162

Locking Horns fish-lips peck. It was a full-blown, gimme more, turned-on thing. Whoa! Lexi stood in the doorway a minute, wondering how she hadn’t noticed Maria and her father had a thing going on? The two parted abruptly. Maria turned red and Ray looked like a rooster caught in the hen house. “Hi, Lexi.” Maria grabbed a dishcloth and scrubbed the counter like it was filthy. Ray cleared his throat, catching Lexi’s eyes. “You missed lunch,” he said. “I see I got here in time for dessert,” Lexi replied. She grinned, breaking the tension. “So, do I have to lecture you two on safe sex?” Maria stopped scrubbing and faced Lexi. “It’s not what you think....” Ray put his arm around Maria and grinned. “Yes, it is.” “Well, um. You see....” Lexi closed the distance between them and put her arms around Maria’s neck. “I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in Dad’s recovery and my own hang-ups, I didn’t see before. But I see now.” She gave Maria a peck on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you guys.” “I just hope you’re not mad at me. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take your mother’s place,” Maria said. “No. You’re taking your place.” Lexi turned toward her father. “You old rascal, you.” She reached up and enclosed him in her embrace. “I love you, Dad.” “I love you, too, honey.” Tears filled Lexi’s eyes. Her father had never actually said he loved her. In all her thirty-two years, she couldn’t remember ever hearing those words from him. She suddenly realized how everything in life had its purpose. Her father’s stroke had brought them together and given them the emotional connection they’d needed all these years. It had broken his tunnel vision and opened a whole new world for him, one of caring and sharing. It had brought Maria Arnold into his life. And it had brought Buddy Beckett back into hers. Why? Lexi spent a large part of the afternoon pondering 163

M. K. Trent just that question. Was it to give Buddy a chance for revenge? To teach her humility? To give her a different perspective on life? Maybe it was all those things. She knew she was a better person for it. And she had a new beginning—a new job, a new city, a new life. She should be looking forward to it with anticipation and excitement. But the sour feeling in the pit of her stomach just wouldn’t go away. The job in Philly was everything she’d always dreamed of. And damn it, nobody was taking that away. Not Buddy Beckett with his heart-wrenching poetry and sexy blue eyes or her own overwhelming need to know what she’d missed out on thirteen years ago. **** Memorial Day dawned bright with a promise of sunny skies and heat. Buddy spent most of the weekend helping his parents get everything ready for the picnic. Today, all three brothers were there; Lenny with Donna and the four kids in tow; Al, in from Berkley Springs with his family, had pitched a tent in the south field; Georgie, home from college in Morgantown, was hovering in the kitchen looking for handouts. His sisters, Marcy, Mary Jo, Ellie and Hannah, arrived that morning with husbands, kids, and boyfriends in tow. Chaos had set in. He stood back and watched the kids chase each other between picnic tables. Moms hollered at them to stay out of the deviled eggs. Dads looked for the kegs iced down in the tool shed and a good place to hide out until the pig was ready. He loved this—all his favorite people in one place at one time. And this year, Lexi Cunningham was coming. Never in his wildest teenage fantasies had he thought the girl who had starred in his wet dreams would come to the family pig roast. He checked his watch-just enough time to go home, shower, and do a quick check around the ranch before Lexi, her father, and Maria Arnold were due to arrive. Lexi told him Ray and Maria were an item. He chuckled to himself. It was never too late for an old dog to learn a few new tricks. By noon, Buddy was back at the scene of total confusion, which was normal for these picnics. His 164

Locking Horns Granny Beckett had arrived while he was gone and was holding court like a queen under a shade tree, taking hugs and kisses from her grandchildren and great grandchildren. He crowded in with Marcy’s oldest, a boy almost sixteen. “Hey, Sean. What’s up?” “Not much, Uncle Buddy. I heard you got a girlfriend.” Buddy grinned and cuffed Sean on the back of his head. “Who you hear that crap from, boy?” Sean grinned. “I heard.” “You hear Lester flew?” “Patty won’t shut up about it,” Sean answered. “All she talks about is how Lester flew so you and your girlfriend could get married. I don’t see the connection, but you know Patty.” “Yeah. She’s got an imagination.” “No. I mean, Patty’s always right on. Like maybe God tells her stuff.” Buddy snorted. “God should just skip the go-between and tell me if I’m getting married, don’t you think?” Sean shrugged. “God has his own ways, Uncle Buddy.” “Harlan Jones Beckett. You come over here right now, boy,” barked Granny Beckett. “What’s this I hear about you getting married? I ain’t even met this girlfriend and now you’re getting married?” Buddy leaned over and hugged Gran. “That’s just bullshit, Granny, and you know it. If I was getting married, you’d have heard it from me first.” “Well, it came from Patty and you know how she is.” Buddy rolled his eyes. Why did everybody set such store on things Patty imagined? “Well, Patty says she’s marrying me right after she marries Daddy, so maybe she’s right.” Granny Beckett shook her finger at Buddy. “You better bring that woman to meet me. You hear?” Buddy saw the sleek, black Lincoln Town Car pull into his parents’ drive. “I think Miss Cunningham is here. I’ll be back.” “Miss Cunningham? Is that anything to call the woman you’re going to marry?” She tsked. “What’s her 165

M. K. Trent name?” “Alexis.” “That’s a car, ain’t it. A Lexus?” Buddy waved away his granny’s joke. She was full of puns and bad jokes. He loved her dearly, this old lady who still ran the Beckett clan. As he headed toward the parked Lincoln, Buddy’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t seen Lexi since Friday morning. She’d stayed a couple of extra hours, puttering around the barn, pulling weeds in his garden, riding with him on the tractor as he turned the sweet-smelling, freshly cut hay. She was doing a pretty good job pretending to like what she was doing. And of course, part of what she was doing was driving him nuts. The more she was around, the closer he wanted to pull her. He loved talking with her. He loved the way she smiled, how it lit up her face. He loved the smell of her, especially when the sun warmed her skin and gave her that fresh, farm-girl scent. If he didn’t make love to her soon, his whole body was going to explode. Maria was driving the Town Car. Lexi hopped out first to get her father’s walker from the trunk of the car. Buddy thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she leaned into the trunk. A red skirt hugged her butt and fell in tiny pleats to mid-thigh. She had on a pair of chunky sandals and her toenails were painted the same shade of red she’d had on the first day at the ranch. When she straightened up and closed the trunk, his eyes fell on those glorious breasts barely contained in a red, white and blue stretch top. She smiled at him and his stomach did a perfect jackknife into his gut. “Hey, Buddy.” “Hey, yourself. Can I help you with anything?” “Well, I made these lemon custard pies. Can you carry those to wherever the food is?” Buddy eyed the two pies. They looked innocent enough. But, by her own admission, Lexi and stoves went together like Lenny and cousin Lulu. He wondered if they were safe to eat or if somebody would die today. “Miss Lex. Miss Lex.” Patty came on the run, her ponytail flying. “I love you, Miss Lex.” She threw herself 166

Locking Horns at Lexi, giving her the Patty version of a bear hug. Lexi swung her around and the two of them giggled. “Hi, sweetheart. How’s Lester?” “Fat. He’s gettin’ so fat, I can hardly pick him up.” “Well, that means you’re taking good care of him, doesn’t it?” “Yep. Is Misser Ham here, too? I wanna sit in his lap again.” “He’s here.” Lexi took Patty’s hand and led her to the open car door where Ray waited for his walker. “Dad, you remember Patty, right?” “I remember. Hi, Patty.” Ray stood up and grasped the walker. He took a few tentative steps as Lexi and Patty backed out of the way. “Where’s your lap?” Patty asked, her lower lip beginning to sag. “I wanna sit in your lap.” “Well, honey, I’ll have to, um, walk—there-over there and sit.” He pointed to the numerous lawn chairs. “Then you can sit on my, um, lap.” “What about your chair? The one with wheels. Did you bring it?” “No. I need, don’t need it anyway, um, anymore. I gave it to a person—another person who wants, uh, needs it.” “Oh.” Disappointment rang in Patty’s voice. “I was sick and now I’m, um, not so sick,” Ray explained. “What were you sick with? Were you ‘tarded like me?” “Tarded?” “I don’t know lots of stuff,” Patty said. “I’m a little ‘tarded.” “Well, I think, I um, think I’ve been ‘tarded a long time,” Ray answered, the edge of his mouth quivered. “Come with me?” he asked. Patty grinned. “Yep.” She grabbed the leg of the walker and Buddy, Maria, and Lexi followed slowly toward the crowd of family. “Hey there, Alexis.” Harlan Beckett waved his hand in the air, a wide smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that read Hog Heaven on the front. He smelled like wood smoke and 167

M. K. Trent beer. “Hey, Charlene,” he hollered. “Come say hi to Alexis. She’ll be over in a couple,” he added to Lexi. “Mr. Beckett, this is my father, Ray Cunningham.” “Welcome to Hog Heaven, Ray.” Harlan grasped her father’s hand warmly. “And who is this pretty thing?” He winked at Maria. “Maria,” Ray said. “My friend, Maria.” He gathered Maria close and smiled at her. “Glad you could make it. Come on over and get something to drink. Pig’s roasting. It should be ready in about an hour. We got all sorts of stuff to tide you over until then. Just help yourselves. “Good God, Charlene. Would you look at those?” Harlan pointed to the two pies Buddy held as Charlene came up beside him. “They look good enough to eat.” Buddy gave Lexi a sidelong glance. “That’s what they’re for, Daddy.” “Why, I thought maybe they were table decorations, they’re so downright pretty,” Harlan teased. Charlene took Maria by the arm. “Let’s you and me take these pies to the table, shall we? You look like you could use a glass of lemonade.” Charlene took the pies from Buddy and led Maria to a long table filled with food. Harlan gave Lexi a head to toe inspection. “How you gonna catch a pig dressed like that?” he asked. At Lexi’s perplexed look, he added, “Didn’t Buddy tell you about the greased pig contest?” Lexi looked at Buddy. He dipped his head and rubbed his hand over his mouth to hide a smile. Harlan continued. “See those piglets over there?” He pointed to a small pen with squealing piglets inside. “Later on, we grease them up and the kids try to catch them.” With a relieved sigh, Lexi said, “Oh, good. That leaves me out.” Buddy chimed in. “I always chase one down for Patty to catch. I thought you’d help me this year.” Lexi glared at Buddy. “You think I’m chasing a pig around? The only pig I’m chasing is you, Buddy Beckett.” “Promises, promises,” Buddy muttered. Buddy spent the next half hour taking Lexi around, introducing her to his brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, 168

Locking Horns uncles, and assorted relatives he couldn’t remember his connection to. “Oh! My! God!” Lexi exclaimed, as they stood by the pig-roasting pit. “I’ve never met so many people all related to each other. She stood by Buddy’s side, a little dizzy from all the introductions. “I’ll never remember everybody’s name.” “That’s okay. I don’t remember everybody’s name, either. Like him over there.” Buddy pointed to a young man standing awkwardly by his second cousin, Alma. “He’s Alma’s boyfriend. I called him Steve, but that’s not his name.” “Him I remember. Alma called him Michael.” “Well, good. Between the two of us, we might do fine.” Buddy gave Lexi a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand. “Come meet Granny Beckett. I promised to bring you by and she’ll come after me with a hickory switch if I don’t keep my promise.” He pointed to the elderly woman sitting in a stout wooden rocker under the big maple tree. She had two toddlers on her lap, her head thrown back in laughter. The woman was old, judging by the deep creases in her face, the fine, silver-gray of her hair, and the cane by the chair. But when she looked up at Lexi, her eyes were as bright as the child’s in her lap. “So this is the lucky young lady that won my grandson’s heart,” she said, setting the two toddlers in the grass. Lexi felt her mouth fall open. Dear God! These people thought Buddy was in love with her. He might have been thirteen years ago, but today was a different story. He wanted her body, but he couldn’t deal with the rest of her. She’d be in Philadelphia by the end of June anyway. “Don’t scare her away, Granny.” “Alexis, is it?” “Yes, ma’am. Alexis Cunningham.” Buddy’s granny narrowed her eyes. “Hmmmm. Your father owns that thoroughbred farm across the tracks, doesn’t he?” “Yes. Charlemane Thoroughbreds.” Granny Beckett waved her hand at Buddy. “You go find something to do with yourself. I want to talk to 169

M. K. Trent Alexis.” Buddy looked like he’d been eliminated from a game of dodgeball. “Shoo. Go on. Go have a beer and try to keep Lenny out of trouble.” “Yes, ma’am.” Lexi watched Buddy walk dutifully away. She suddenly knew what it felt like to be the object of a firing squad. The woman looked her over and motioned for her to sit. “So, how did you meet my grandson?” “Uh, we went to school together years ago,” she said hesitantly. “High school.” Granny nodded. “Go ahead.” Lexi gave Granny a tight smile. “I got a speeding ticket and Geeky—uh—Judge Ruckenbeak gave me community service at Buddy’s place. I’ve been shoveling sh....uh, manure and such for a few weeks now.” Granny laughed. “Ruckenbeak did that?” Lexi relaxed just enough to smile. “Yeah. Ruckenbeak did that.” “So how is it Buddy fell in love with you? I know he’s partial to the smell of what comes out of a cow’s ass, but I hardly think you smell like manure.” Lexi laughed nervously and looked from her hands to the kid sucking a bottle behind Granny and back to her hands again. “Well, actually, I don’t think Buddy’s in love with me, ma’am.” She felt her shoulders sag and bit her lip. Buddy wanted her and she wanted him. But how did she explain a purely sexual craving to a woman who most likely thought only people in love had sexual needs. “Do you love him?” That caught Lexi off guard. She’d debated that with herself enough times. But the debates always ended in the sex without commitment argument. Now, she was on the spot by none other than the Queen of Beckett-ville. How could she tell the Queen it didn’t matter if she loved Buddy? That it would never work? That she was moving to Philadelphia in a few weeks? That she’d never see Buddy again? She hadn’t even told Buddy she was leaving yet. Lexi looked into the intense blue eyes of Granny Beckett. Her breath caught in her throat and she thought, for one second, the woman would pull a Granny Clampett 170

Locking Horns and chase her off the property with a shotgun if she gave a wrong answer. The woman broke eye contact first, picked up a paper fan from her lap and set the silver strands of hair around her face flying. “Whatever you do, don’t lead him on and break his heart.” “No ma’am.” “Hot day, isn’t it?” She pointed to Lexi’s skirt. “I shoulda worn a short little number like that instead of these old polyester pants. ‘Course, Uncle Ansel from the Jones side of the family might’ve had a heart attack chasing me around the pig sty. It’s probably best I kept my girly-legs to myself.” Granny looked off toward the horseshoe pit. “You better go partner up with Donna. It looks like Lulu is on her way toward the pit. She’ll break Lenny’s skull with a horseshoe, if she gets a chance.” “Yes ma’am.” Lexi felt like running away as fast as she could. Not just from Granny Beckett, but from Charles Town, West Virginia. She knew if she let the relationship with Buddy go any further, she would break his heart and the consequences weren’t going to be pretty.

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Chapter 21 Babies and Bad-Ass Goats Lexi made it to the horseshoe pit in time to save Lenny from Lulu. “Pit’s full,” Lenny announced with a smug look. Big-busted and an advertisement for why spandex shouldn’t come in any size larger than ten, Lulu gave Lexi a bitch you’re gonna die look before heading toward the bingo table. “Don’t you pay her any mind, honey,” Donna said. “She just missed an opportunity to coldcock Lenny with a horseshoe. She’ll get over it.” Lenny gave her a grateful look. “You got here just in time. Lulu’s had it in for me ever since I safety-pinned a string to the hem of her skirt and tied the other to an eraser. “It wasn’t that bad until you tossed the eraser over the fluorescent light and her skirt went up over her head,” Buddy said. The two of them shared a laugh over the incident. “When was that Buddy? Eighth grade?” “Sixth, wasn’t it?” Lenny squinted and thought. “Yeah. Must’ve been. We were still in elementary school. ‘Member the time I....” Donna busted him in the arm. “You gonna play horseshoes or bullshit all afternoon, Lenny?” “Horseshoes, honey.” “Good. Because I need to throw this thing at something and I don’t wanna waste all afternoon in the ER getting your head stitched back up.” “Lulu,” Lenny muttered. “What?” “Love you,” Lenny shouted. While Donna pitched the first shoe, Buddy slipped over to the tool shed and got four cups of beer. Lexi 172

Locking Horns noticed Lenny drank both his and Donna’s before the last horseshoe was pitched. She attributed the final score to Lenny’s overindulgence. She and Buddy beat Lenny and Donna soundly. “We suck,” Lenny announced. “It’s just me, Lenny,” Donna muttered. “I can’t concentrate much. You know how tough this is for me.” Lexi wondered what was so tough, until Buddy let out a hoot. “Why, Lenny, you old dog.” He smacked Lenny on the back. “I just realized Donna quit smoking again. When’s the baby due?” Lenny puffed up like a pig after a week in a corn bin. He put his arm around Donna and snuggled her against him. “We’re gonna have a special Christmas delivery.” Buddy threw his arms around the two, kissing Donna and squashing Lenny against him. Lexi felt left out. This was a special family moment and she wasn’t family. She would never have this kind of moment. She kicked her toe in the dust of the horseshoe pit and concentrated on what she did have—a father who loved her, a great new job offer, and a chance to start over. She forced a smile. “Is this your fifth?” Donna beamed. “Yeah. Number five.” Lexi shook her head and gave Lenny a scolding look. “Lenny, haven’t you figured out yet what causes this?” Lenny looked sheepish. “I’m kinda dumb about a few things, but I think I got this one figured. See, I got a really sweet watermelon up from Texas a bit ago and Donna here, she swallowed one of the seeds. Now it’s growing inside her and pretty soon, you’re gonna see just how big that watermelon gets.” Donna rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever take responsibility for anything, Lenny?” “Sure, sweetheart. I said I got the watermelon, didn’t I?” Just then, a commotion broke out at the food table. Heads turned to see Harlan’s infamous billy goat standing in the middle of the dessert table. Patty clapped and giggled wildly from Ray’s lap. “Billy goat got chocolate on his face,” she hollered. Granny Beckett was out of her chair. “Somebody get the shotgun. It’s time to blast that bad-ass goat.” “Bad-ass goat. Bad-ass goat,” Patty echoed. 173

M. K. Trent “God damned goat,” Harlan thundered over the din. With half the Beckett family running toward it, the goat spooked and made a beeline for the far end of the table and freedom. Bits and pieces of cherry pie and chocolate cake went flying. He stepped in a bowl of Jello kept cold over ice and slid to the end of the table, through one of Lexi’s lemon custard pies and landed face first in the other. Lexi didn’t think goats could grimace, but this one gave it a good try as he licked lemon from his nose. Maybe it was a good thing he’d destroyed the pies. If he could handle Buddy’s underwear but not her pie, she surely didn’t want anyone else to try one. With Harlan chasing the goat across the yard, Charlene took stock of the damage. “Well, he didn’t spoil everything. That Jello’s definitely got to go, though. And oh, my. Just look at the mess he made of your pies, Lexi. We never even got a taste.” “Can’t let this go to waste.” Buddy picked up what was left of a pie and swiped his finger through an untouched corner. He licked the big, yellow blob off his finger. Lexi thought he might need a pry bar to pull his tongue out of the back of his head. His eyes teared up and he sucked in a deep breath, nearly choking. “Tart,” he croaked. Hmmmmm. Next time maybe she’d borrow some sugar from the Holcolms when she ran out, instead of making due. Better make the best of this. “City-girl pie,” she said, tilting her chin and resting a closed fist on her cocked hip. “You have a problem with it?” “No. No problem at all,” he managed. Lexi guessed Buddy’s daddy must have taught him, if you can’t say something nice, lie. From the way his brow furrowed and his lips puckered, she was sure he had a pretty big problem with her pie. He picked up his beer cup and downed what was left in one gulp. Lenny shook his head and watched Donna and his mother scrape up the remains of the ruined desserts. “Man, I was looking forward to that lemon pie.” “Sorry,” Lexi said. “You’ll have to pucker up and kiss it goodbye.” “Ten-four,” Buddy muttered. 174

Locking Horns Lexi knew Buddy wouldn’t embarrass her about the pie, but it would no doubt be one of the Beckett family picnic legends for years to come. Buddy gave her a devious little twist of his lips and whispered in her ear. “I won’t tell about the pie if you don’t tell about my drawers the other night.” “I’ll think about it, Harlan Beckett.” “You better, woman,” he replied. “Looks like it’s time to eat,” Lenny interrupted. “Daddy gave up on the goat and he’s pulling the pig out of the coals.” **** Lexi was amazed. Even the littlest of the kids was standing in a huge circle, quietly holding hands while Granny Beckett said grace. “Dear Lord, thank you for this opportunity to share your bounty with so many in our family. Thank you for keeping us safe and in good health. Protect us from the hard things in life. “We pray especially for Stevie Ray-our nephew, brother, cousin, and grandson-as he fights for our freedom in a far away place. Keep him safe and bring him home to us soon. “Thank you for bringing us together with the Cunningham’s this year to share our bounty and good fortune. We welcome them into our fold. “Thank you for this fine repast. It don’t matter that the goat danced in the dessert. We still got plenty to go around. You got a great sense of humor, God. “Thank you most for giving us your abiding love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.” A loud chorus of “amens” went up. Under her breath, Lexi muttered, “Thank you for the bad-ass goat.” Beside her, Buddy nearly choked again. Total chaos broke out as everyone grabbed plates and plastic forks and descended on the food. Lexi followed her father, carrying his plate. Patty wouldn’t leave Ray’s side. She had him help her fill her plate. “Oh goody,” she hollered, pointing at the Lima beans. “Border beans. I want border beans.” Lexi gave Buddy a questioning look. “Just watch her when she gets to the table,” he replied. “You’ll see why 175

M. K. Trent they’re border beans.” He was right. Patty didn’t eat the beans. She lined them up around the edge of her plate, making a border. None of the rest of her food was allowed to touch the border. She carefully manipulated her pulled pork, baked beans, corn bread, and potato salad as she ate. By the time she was finished, her chubby little fingers were covered in food. **** Contented sighs mingled with groans as the last of the food was carried to the kitchen. Lexi hadn’t eaten so much in her whole life. Buddy was right about his daddy. Harlan knew how to roast a pig to perfection. All of his relatives were fantastic cooks. It was good she wasn’t going to be part of this clan—she’d be a laughing stock with her inedible lemon pies and lead bread. Grandma Jones, Charlene’s mother, pulled out her needlework. Several other women did the same. “You sew, child?” Grandma Jones asked her. Another skill Lexi lacked. “No. I tried cross-stitch when I was younger. I sewed the cloth right to my jeans. It was my first and last attempt at sewing, except in home economics class in high school. I think my mother still has the napkins and tablecloth I made—only because it was something I sewed. We never used them.” Buddy’s sister, Marcy, chimed in. “Now that’s a real shame. Momma still has potholders I made one Christmas. They’re old and nearly worn through, but she still uses them. Doubles up on them, though, since she burned her finger.” “Well, no matter. All a woman needs to know to make a man happy is how to cook.” Grandma Jones eyed her as if she knew Lexi couldn’t cook. From across the yard, Buddy watched Lexi with his relatives. She looked a little nervous, but then, he’d hit her with a lot at one sitting. His family could be pretty overwhelming until you got used to them. “So, Buddy. Where’d you meet this woman?” his cousin, Dooley, asked. “She’s doing community service at my place. Got a speeding ticket and Eddie Ruckenbeak sent her my way.” “Seems a little odd to me. You aren’t exactly a 176

Locking Horns charitable organization,” his brother, Al, said. Buddy shrugged. “Just Eddie’s way, I guess.” “She snubbed them both in high school,” Lenny added. “This is payback. She has to do whatever Buddy says.” Dooley broke out in a grin. “That so, Buddy?” Buddy could see exactly where this was going. He ignored Dooley. “For a city girl, she’s doing okay.” “Yeah. She let the cows loose to trample Buddy’s tomato patch, destroyed his office, flooded the kitchen, and ran the Bobcat through the fence,” Lenny said. Dooley shook his head. “You call that okay, Buddy? Sheesh! She sounds like a one-woman demolition team.” “Like I said, she’s a city girl,” Buddy said. “This is all new to her.” Al cocked his head at Buddy. “I thought you said her father owns that big race horse spread. She should be used to farm life by now.” “She only lived here two years. She’s from Baltimore.” “Ahh.” The discussion lulled for a minute as the men took a gander at the object of their conversation. Buddy was relieved to see her laughing with the womenfolk in what seemed like a lively give and take. It wouldn’t take her very long to find her niche here. After all, she deals with people in her job every day. “What’s she do for a living, Buddy?” his brother, George asked. “She a cheerleader for the Ravens or something?” “She tortures people,” Lenny interjected. “She told me all about how she could tie me up in knots for days. Looking at her, I believe it. You ever seen muscles like she’s got in those arms? I mean on a girl, anyway.” “Yeah,” Dooley answered. “Lulu. Lulu’s got muscles like that. Bet she could whip you in arm wrestling.” “Hmmph,” Lenny snorted. Dooley laughed and turned his attention back to Buddy. “You ever arm wrestle with Lexi?” He winked and grinned. “Nope,” Buddy answered. He fell silent, wondering if he ever would. From his vantage point, he could see her 177

M. K. Trent every move. The cute way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. The enticing flick of her hand as she flipped an errant strand of hair off her forehead. The maddeningly sensual way she crossed her legs. He suddenly realized his mother had gone to the kitchen and brought her Grange Cookbook back out. The red flag went up when Lexi glanced around at him. She bit her lower lip and he could see her, I’m about to be eaten by the lions, look. Buddy rescued her from having to explain her lack of culinary skills. “Want to sit with your Daddy?” he asked. “That’s a good idea. Nice talking with you,” Lexi added to his family of Martha Stewart rivals. She followed him and took a seat next to her father. Lexi’s family was small and hardly ever got together. Having an entire extended family like this together in one place was overwhelming, chaotic, and perfect. She soaked it all in, like a sponge that had never been in water before. All over the Beckett yard, children played tag and hide-and-seek, women rocked in the shade and talked about family, men gathered at the keg or grouped on the steps to tell tall tales. How wonderful it must have been to grow up like this, knowing your aunts and uncles, playing with your cousins, and sitting on your grandma’s lap. Lexi couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever sat on either of her grandmother’s laps, been hugged by an aunt, or did more than play with Barbie dolls with a cousin once when her mother’s sister and her family had passed through town on their way to Niagara Falls. She’d been ten, maybe, and she’d never seen the girl again. She didn’t even remember her name. Now, she sat with Buddy, her father, and Maria, listening to the men discuss pigs and horses, corn and hay crops. The breeze was warm and brought the heavy scent of Charlene Beckett’s lilacs, accompanied by the sound of giggling children. The drone of voices, the warmth of the afternoon, and the fullness of her stomach worked their spell and she nodded off. A sudden whooping and hollering brought her wide awake. Buddy was out of his chair, lying on the ground holding his arm like he’d been shot. Beside him lay a soggy corn cob. 178

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Chapter 22 Hogs and Kisses Before she could find out what happened, Buddy was up and cursing Lenny. He grabbed the corn cob and muttered something about where he was going to put it. “Buddy!” she hollered. Looking around, she realized only she was upset. A mix of amusement and disinterest went through the group of men. “Don’t worry about them, Miss Alexis,” Harlan said. “They’ll sort it out.” Lexi wasn’t so sure. Buddy really looked mad and the grin was long gone from Lenny’s face. Buddy shoved Lenny. Lenny shoved Buddy and they tangled like two wildcats after the same piece of meat. “Aren’t you going to do something?” Lexi asked Harlan. Harlan chuckled. “Sit yourself down and relax, honey. Those two have been wrestling with each other for thirty years.” “But....Buddy’s going to cream Lenny,” she protested. Harlan shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Like as not, they’ll both end up with black eyes.” Lexi slowly lowered herself into the chair, sitting anxiously on the edge. Lenny was on top of Buddy—no, Buddy rolled on top. Suddenly, the two fell on their backs, side by side in the grass, laughing hysterically. After a minute, Buddy sat up, wiping at the trickle of blood coming from his nose. He stood, leaned over, and offered a hand to his brother. Lenny threw his arm around Buddy’s shoulders. “I got you this time. You were so caught up in that woman you forgot to soak your corncobs.” “I completely forgot to bring my wet corn cob ammunition. I must be getting old and senile, Lenny.” “Nah. Just got a little red skirt on your mind. You better take care of that before you do something stupid, 179

M. K. Trent like leave the gate open for your longhorns and they get away, brother.” Heat colored her face as Lexi looked around to see who else was listening. Cousin Dooley Smith winked at her. Granny Beckett gave her a thumbs up. Lexi swallowed hard and vowed not to let Buddy get any closer. She’d probably start a West Virginia backwoods feud between the Beckett’s and the Cunningham’s if she did. Buddy grabbed a napkin from the table and dabbed at his nose. “You caught me with your elbow, Lenny. Jeez, that smarts.” “I know just the remedy for a sore nose,” Lenny replied. With a quick move, he whacked Buddy on the back of the head and ducked away. “Makes you forget all about your nose, doesn’t it?” Lexi interrupted any further physical retaliation with a couple of ice cubes wrapped in a napkin. “Put this on your nose. It’ll be just fine in a few minutes.” “Thanks, but it’s fine now.” “Take it,” she ordered. “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a half smile and put the soggy, dripping napkin full of ice on his nose. “Boys,” Lexi muttered. Harlan had disappeared and returned with a bottle of corn oil. Immediately, all the kids started yelling and flocking toward him. Patty leaped off Ray’s lap, clapping and giggling. “The pig chase,” she hollered. Buddy tossed the soggy napkin in a trash can and produced T-shirts from a Wal-Mart bag he’d had under the table. “Here.” He handed one to Lexi. “What’s this for?” “Go change so you don’t ruin that pretty shirt with oil,” he replied. “Me? I’m not chasing any pigs.” “I thought you’d want to help me corner Patty’s catch.” Patty stood next to them, jumping up and down, demanding Buddy’s attention. “Here, sweetie. Here’s your shirt.” Patty yanked her bright yellow tank top off and 180

Locking Horns tossed it on the table. Buddy picked it up and folded it neatly as Patty struggled into the shirt. It came down to her knees. “Come on, Miss Lex. It’s pig chasin’ time.” Patty clutched at Lexi’s hand. “You gotta.” Buddy started unbuttoning his shirt, a maneuver Lexi watched with apprehension. He was going to take his shirt off so his whole family could watch her melt like Jello on a hot plate. She bit her lip and tried not to drool as one strapping shoulder appeared and then the other. A ribbon of dark hair trailed down his construction worker abs, dipping below his belt with a mocking tease. She remembered how those muscles bunched and trembled under her touch in the moonlight by the creek. How her fingers had burned with the heat of his skin. How his body had tightened and his breath had come hard. Oh, my God, she needed a long, hard run to get her own body under control. She grabbed the shirt and headed toward the house. Behind her, she could feel Buddy’s eyes on her. But she didn’t dare look back and betray her need for him. When all the kids had changed into scruffy clothes, Harlan let the oiled piglets loose, giving them a minute’s head start. When he hollered, “Go,” nearly twenty screaming kids scattered across the barnyard, hoping to come out with a Hog Heaven Pig Medal. Buddy took Lexi’s hand and led her by the barn. They waited for one of the pigs to round the corner. Lexi whispered in Buddy’s ear. “So what do we do when we see one?” “Here’s the deal. We don’t catch the pig. We just corral it in the barn. Patty comes to the barn and catches the pig.” “Isn’t that unfair to everyone else?” she asked. Buddy shrugged. “Maybe a little. But nobody really cares. She’s always been kind of special to the whole family. They all understand that Patty needs a little extra help with some things.” When Lexi started to answer, Buddy shushed her. He listened intently to the ruckus in the yard and motioned for her to move to the other side of the barn door. Not that 181

M. K. Trent he wanted her that far away from him. Oh no! What he really wanted was to forget the pig, the picnic, and all his relatives and show Lexi just what redneck farmers do in the hay. Lexi looked so inviting in the big T-shirt, a hint of red skirt teasing him just below the hem. Buddy couldn’t help thinking about the night by the creek. In a way, he was glad the goat had interrupted them. He wanted to take her gently, not in the heat of passion. He wanted to love her like a woman ought to be loved—with tender thoroughness. Buddy almost missed the piglet as it charged around the corner. Lexi didn’t. She moved quickly, herding the little fellow inside the barn, squealing loudly as it did. She giggled like a kid and grabbed for it. The slick little thing slipped away, squealing louder. Laughing, Buddy blocked the pig’s retreat and sent it skittering toward Lexi again. It ran into a stall and Lexi followed. “I got it. I got it,” she hollered. She was down on her knees in the straw and had the piglet in her hands. “What do I do with it now? Where’s Patty?” Buddy slipped into the stall and dropped to his knees next to her. She looked positively radiant, her dark eyes flashing, her cheeks the color of his mamma’s pink roses. The piglet squirmed and squeaked and Lexi laughed as she held it tight. He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t care about the pig chase anymore. His heart nearly burst with love for this woman and he wanted her to know it. He cradled her cheek in his palm, leaned down, and brushed his lips against hers. Her eyes grew big and the pig slipped out of her hands. “Buddy, we can’t....” Buddy cut her protest short, angling his mouth hard over hers, slipping his hand around the back of her head, and pulling her against him. “Yes, we can,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve wanted to do this all day. You don’t know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you.” “But your family....” she began. Her words were lost as Buddy’s kiss engulfed her. Lexi forgot her vow to keep him at arm’s length. That was much too far away. She wanted him close, so close she 182

Locking Horns could feel his heart beat, so close she could taste the saltiness of his skin, so close she could hear the whisper of skin against skin. Buddy’s devastating attack on her senses left her weak and needy. She knew she should push him away, before it was too late, before Buddy weaseled his way past her common sense and into the gotta have it part of her brain. But it was too late. Certain parts of her were achinghot, wet, and demanding attention. The just a little taste won’t hurt rationalization took over and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him so hard her lips felt bruised. They fell together in the straw, his big hands tangled in the T-shirt. He finally shoved it roughly past her waist to explore the curve of her breasts and tease her nipples into rock-hard peaks. Lexi’s hands were hot against the bare skin of his stomach. Buddy felt her fingers on his belt buckle, frantically fumbling with it. “Damn,” she muttered. His eyes nearly popped when she yanked it tight, releasing the pin from its berth. The belt released like a ratchet, followed by the button and zipper. He took a deep breath that caught halfway when Lexi grasped his aching shaft and squeezed. In retaliation, he reached under her skirt, slid up the taut muscles on the back of her leg to her tight bottom, and slipped a finger under the edge of her silken panties. Her whole body trembled in anticipation. “What do you want me to do, woman?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. “Love me, Harlan.” “Oh, yeah.” He angled his mouth over hers again and tangled his tongue with hers. He deepened the kiss, loving her with his lips. His brain was on fire with a need he could barely understand. There was a squeal, much too close. It didn’t sound like a piglet, more like Patty. Oh shit, popped into Buddy’s brain. “I got him. I got the piggy.” Silence. Buddy’s finger got stuck in Lexi’s panties as he tried 183

M. K. Trent to extricate himself. Lexi was squirming and muttering shit, shit, shit in his ear. As she yanked her hand out of his pants, it slid the length of his penis. If Patty hadn’t been standing at the stall door, he probably would have gone orgasmic right there. Patty dropped the piglet. It let out a grunt as it hit the barn floor, then scrambled away, unhurt. Patty screamed loud enough to scare the pigeons off their perches in the barn loft. She turned and ran outside, yelling at the top of her lungs. “Bubby’s gonna marry Miss Lex. Bubby’s gonna marry Miss Lex.” Buddy jerked his hand out of Lexi’s panties and they snapped against her. She pushed him hard on his chest and slid away, leaving Buddy laying face down in the hay. The heat of the moment was gone, replaced by frustration and a sinking feeling that, somehow, things were about to get even worse. Buddy flipped onto his back and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes “Damn!” “I told you we shouldn’t,” Lexi hissed. “Now look what you’ve done.” Buddy moved his hands and glared at her. “Me?” “Yes, you. You couldn’t leave well enough alone with a pig between us. You had to kiss me.” “Yeah? Well you kissed me back. I could swear that was your tongue in my mouth.” Buddy got up in a huff. Next to him, Lexi pulled the T-shirt into place and brushed hay from her hair. Her chin jutted out like a stubborn mule’s on a rampage. “This is just great.” Outside, Patty was still hollering about a wedding. As he zipped up, Buddy heard Granny Beckett’s voice. “Hallelujah! It’s about damn time that boy got some sense in his head and settled down.” His momma asked Patty, “How do you know that, honey?” “They was kissin’.” Then he heard his daddy. “Ray, welcome to the family.” Then Lenny. “Hot damn, I knew it. I suppose I better call up the tuxedo place and have them dust one off.” “I’m not shoveling your shit for eternity, Beckett,” Lexi grumbled. 184

Locking Horns Buddy shoved his feelings down hard inside. Lexi wasn’t talking about shoveling shit, she was talking about marriage. She didn’t want to marry him or have anything to do with his life in West Virginia. Who did he think he was kidding? Lexi didn’t want anything but sex from him. She might as well have told him he wasn’t good enough to lick dirt from her shoes—again. It hurt just as bad. Who ever said men were callous and unfeeling never dealt with Lexi Cunningham. “You go on out,” Buddy said, checking his belt to make sure it was fastened. “What? And face your entire family by myself? No way. You go first.” Buddy swallowed hard. “Come on. Best we both go. We’ve got a better chance of surviving this together.” He put his hand on the small of her back to guide her forward. Lexi moved away. “Don’t touch me.” Buddy tossed his arms. “Fine.” As they turned the corner of the barn, Patty jumped up and down. “I told you, Bubby. I did.” “Yeah, sweetie. I know.” Lenny was the first to stop smiling. “Uh-oh,” he said. “Trouble in paradise already.” “Shut up, Lenny,” Buddy muttered. “Just shut up.” He left Lexi with her father and headed for the beer keg. Lenny was right behind him. “What happened? Man, she looks pissed.” “I kissed her and now she’s mad as a wet hen at me.” “Wow! You must have screwed up that kiss pretty bad, big brother. You’re just outta practice. You need to kiss a few more women.” Buddy turned and glared at Lenny. “Look, can the shit, okay? There’s not going to be a wedding. The second to last thing Alexis Cunningham wants is to live on a cattle ranch in West Virginia, got it?” “Huh. What’s the last thing she wants?” “To live on it with me.” Lenny shook his head. “I was afraid of that.” He poured himself a cup of beer. “Now what?” “Now I go home and check on the cattle.” Buddy chugged the beer, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and sauntered away. 185

M. K. Trent “Hey, where you going?” Granny Beckett hollered. Buddy turned, still backpedaling toward his truck. “Check on the cattle. I’ll be back.” He waved a hand at the crowd of relatives and turned away. “You better go, uh, go. Go with him,” Ray said, looking hard at Lexi. “Me? Why?” “Because you two need to settle things,” Granny Beckett said, giving Lexi an evil stare. “Get another hour or so of that community service thing out of the way,” Lenny added. “Go. Shoo,” Ray said. “We’ll be here when you get back.” “Dad....” “Go,” he nearly shouted. “Fine.” Under her breath, she muttered, “Just fine. Just what I want to do—keep company with a cowboy and his attitude.” Buddy had just started the truck when she yanked open the door and climbed in. He looked at her hard. “What the hell are you doing?” “I’m going with you. I need all the hours I can get.” She folded her arms, gave an attitude-heavy huff, and stared out the front window. When Buddy didn’t move, she turned to him. “Are we going or what?” “Fine!” Buddy threw the truck into gear and tossed gravel as he swung out of the driveway.

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Chapter 23 Make the World Go Away Bristling silence accompanied them from the picnic to Buddy’s ranch. Once there, conversation was terse and centered on Buddy giving Lexi directions. He’d planned on cleaning the water tank on Tuesday, but now seemed like a really good time. He handed Lexi a scrub brush and the hose and set her to work. In the calf lot, he dropped hay and feed and checked on his breeders and their new calves. When he was finished, he leaned on the fence rail and waited for Lexi. It wasn’t long before she finished and joined him. One glance and he knew she was still upset. He also noticed she’d gotten wet, so now the T-shirt was plastered to her in all the right places. Well, he could look but not touch. And look he did. “You’ve seen it before, so quit gawking like a sixteenyear-old, Beckett,” she quipped. “I think you got wet so you could shove those things in my face.” Lexi glared at him. “Look, I’m only here because I was forced to come, not so I could stick my boobs in your face. Okay?” She whirled on him. “Everybody’s back at Hog Heaven planning our wedding for us. Don’t you think that’s pretty absurd?” “That’s what’s got you so pissed, Lexi? You know Patty has a wild imagination. Everybody knows it. My family would love it if I got married, but they aren’t the kind to push it. They know when I’m ready, I’ll get married. Nobody’s planning a wedding, so you can lose the attitude, babe.” Lexi bit her lip and looked away. When she looked back, he realized her lashes were wet with unshed tears. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching out and touching her cheek. “What’s this all about?” She pulled away from his hand. “I’m going away, 187

M. K. Trent Buddy,” she choked out. “I know. I’ve known since day one you’re going back to Baltimore when your daddy’s better. He’s doing good, so I know it won’t be long.” Lexi shook her head and wiped at a tear that slid down her cheek. “No. I’m really going away, Buddy. I was offered a job in Philadelphia at the new Atlas Gym and I’m going to take it.” So, she’d already made up her mind to leave. What did that have to do with whether or not he kissed her? Lexi continued in a voice so low Buddy could hardly hear her. “I want you so bad I can taste it, Buddy. Every time you touch me, I start to shake inside. I lose that battle with myself—the one where I really, really want to go to bed with you. But I know it’s the wrong thing to do.” Buddy’s mouth curved ever so slightly. “What’s so wrong with it?” Lexi tossed her arms in the air. “I give up. I’m trying to be nice here, Beckett. You’re making everything so difficult. What I’m trying to say is I don’t want to lead you on and make you think there’s something between us, when there’s not. I don’t want to hurt you again, Buddy. Once was enough.” Yeah, that was the truth. But it was already too late. He walked right into it this time. His eyes were wide open. He knew she didn’t want him and his dream. Yet he’d allowed that fantasy to persist. He’d allowed himself to fall in love with a woman who could never love him. She teased him and taunted him. But deep down inside, he knew the truth all along. She could never love him. Buddy ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping her tears. “It’s okay, Lexi. I’m a big boy now. I know how it is between us. We’ve got an itch that needs to be scratched. Once it’s done and over, we can let it go. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Except, he knew he couldn’t let it go. Lexi would be with him the rest of his life. But he couldn’t let her leave this time without knowing what it was they missed out on thirteen years ago. “You think it’s okay that way, Beckett?” “I think so, Cunningham.” She nodded. “So, what now?” 188

Locking Horns Buddy scooped her up in his arms. “Whoa! Hey! What are you doing?” “We’re going to scratch that itch.” Lexi held tight to Buddy’s neck as he argued with the back door. It popped open and slammed against the wall. He caught it with his foot on the rebounded and shoved it closed behind them. She wasn’t all that heavy, but she thought Buddy would at least break a sweat going up the stairs. He was breathing a little hard, but she didn’t think it had anything to do with the climb. It had more to do with what was rubbing against her hip. He felt as solid as petrified wood. In his room, she expected him to toss her on the bed and rip her clothes off. Instead, he knelt on the mattress and laid her gently against the pillows. Leaning over her, he pushed her hair back and gazed at her as if he was memorizing every inch of her face. Lexi swallowed hard. As much as she wanted this night, she knew nothing would be the same afterward. Afterward would be awkward. Afterward would be heart-wrenching. Afterward would be goodbye. She made up her mind to get up and leave. But before she did, Buddy brushed his lips gently on her forehead. She closed her eyes and tried to summon the willpower to move. But her body wasn’t paying any attention. It responded to the intimate way Buddy’s lips touched her skin. She felt his breath, warm, with a leftover hint of beer, trailing down her cheek and against her ear. Was that her whispered sigh? The one with the catch in it when Buddy’s tongue caressed the edge of her ear? She hadn’t made love in so long, she’d forgotten all those little sounds. The ones that came involuntarily when parts of her were touched. Like now, when Buddy’s rough palms caressed her ever so tenderly on her shoulders and slid down her arms to take her hands in his. He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them with what seemed like awe, like he’d never kissed a woman’s hands like this. He turned each one over, circled his thumbs on her palms, and then placed kisses on her wrists. His lips were warm and damp 189

M. K. Trent so the places he left turned cool in the soft evening air. Lexi shivered as much from Buddy’s touch as from the air moved languidly by the slowly rotating fan above the bed. He was gentle, yet in total command. If he asked her to jump out the window right now, she’d probably do it. Buddy curled her fingers in his, squeezing ever so slightly. He let go and got up. Balancing himself against the dresser, he removed his shoes and socks. He pulled the T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor next to his shoes. He stopped and let his eyes rake over her. Then, with purpose, he unbuckled his belt and shed his jeans and underwear. She’d seen Buddy in the half-light of the moon by the stream. She’d touched him, held his erection in her hand in the barn. But nothing quite prepared her for the actual sight of him—thick, hard, and ready for sex. She couldn’t help licking her lips in anticipation. Buddy returned to the bed and sat next to her. He lifted her leg and removed her shoe, dropping it to the floor. His hand slid slowly across her ankle, then up her shin to her knee. He circled her kneecap with his index finger and returned down her leg, cupping her calf in his hand before moving to her other leg. When both shoes were on the floor, he turned and straddled her, his erection pointing toward her belly. She reached out and grasped him with her hand. Buddy took her wrist. “No,” he murmured, his voice deep and throaty. He removed her hand. “I want this to last.” “I want you inside me now, Harlan.” “In due time, Lexi.” He leaned over, shoved the damp T-shirt out of his way and kissed her belly. He was gentle, sensual, and hot as Hell. It had been months since she’d had sex. But was that sex? Hardly. No man in the past made her feel like this. No man made her pleasure the center of his universe. She felt his tongue dip into her bellybutton and every muscle in her abdomen tensed and shivered. His hands were on her sides, holding her reverently as he made love to her with his tongue. And then his hands slid to her 190

Locking Horns skirt top. The little red zipper didn’t stand a chance. It was down in seconds. She picked herself up just enough for him to slide her skirt away. It bunched against his thighs along with her white silk panties. “Touch me,” she whispered. “I intend to touch every part of your body.” Buddy rose up to shove her skirt and panties down her legs. She kicked them off and he settled in again, kneeling carefully around her thighs. His penis teased against her belly. He thrust against her and when she looked at him, he grinned. “Do you like that?” he asked. “I’d like it lower.” “Not so fast, woman. I’m just getting started.” “Tease.” “I’m going to do more than tease tonight, Lexi. I’m going to show you what you missed thirteen years ago.” With that, he shoved at the T-shirt again and pulled it up over her head. It landed with a splat on the floor. His hand slid under the top edge of her bra to cup her breast. “Nice,” he murmured. When Lexi started to unlatch the front hook of the bra, he shooed her hands away. “Let me.” He popped the clasp and smiled. “Double nice.” With the bra gone, Buddy leaned over and took one nipple between his teeth. Lexi cupped her breast in her hand, pushing it toward his mouth. “This one’s jealous,” she said, rolling her other nipple with her fingers. “Can’t have that.” He moved to her other breast, circling the nipple with his tongue before he caught the crest with his teeth. He pulled just enough to make her arch her back and whimper. “Do you want me to suck you, Lexi?” In a trembling voice, she answered. “Oh God, yes, Buddy. I want it all.” She reached for his thick erection again and Buddy lowered himself so she couldn’t reach him. His penis lay hard between them. “Not yet, woman. I haven’t finished with these beautiful, city-girl tits.” His hands were all over them, touching, massaging, 191

M. K. Trent and teasing the peaks. She’d never been with a man who made love to her body like it was a sacred object. He took her in his mouth, lavishing his attention on each breast in turn, kissing, licking, and nuzzling between them. Lexi arched into him, pushing against his mouth, moaning and cursing between clenched teeth. “Damn you, Buddy. I need you inside me. Please.” “Ahh! The magic word. Since you put it like that....” Buddy lifted himself up, slid back, and leaned down. He pushed her legs apart so his fingers could caress her wet folds. All she managed was a very loud “Oh”. His breath was hot on her and his tongue heaven as it slid the length of her slit. “Hmmmm. You taste so sweet. Better than your lemon pie.” Lexi tried to answer, but her breath caught in her throat. She thrust her pelvis against his mouth and moaned. When he suckled her, she screamed, wrapping her fingers in his hair. She heard—or rather felt—Buddy’s chuckle. “A screamer. I like that.” Lexi gasped and then groaned. “Don’t stop, damn it.” “Oh, baby, I don’t intend to.” She felt his fingers go deep inside her. It was all instinct and feeling now. She could barely breathe. From deep inside, she felt the tremors start. They came in waves, making her shiver, making her muscles tense so hard they almost hurt. Buddy thrust his fingers inside her, all the while suckling her clitoris. Lexi screamed, her throat raw while her body convulsed. Just when she thought she might pass out with the absolute violence of her orgasm, Buddy left her. “No, no,” she screamed, fisting her hands in frustration. “Oh, yes,” he answered. He reached over to the nightstand, yanked the drawer open, and removed a condom. He ripped it open with his teeth, pulled it from the package, and slid it on. She felt the fullness as he entered her; his penis was rock hard and his balls slapped against her bottom as he 192

Locking Horns came to rest deep inside her. He grunted out a long moan. “You’re so tight.” He thrust into her again. “And so wet.” Another thrust. “And so fucking hot, woman.” This was the ultimate mating; the final glory where two bodies became one. She was a fucking hot woman! And, dear God, this was a night she would remember when she was so old she couldn’t remember her own name. She’d expected this to be anti-climactic, a disappointment, something she could easily forget. But holy-moly, there was no way she could forget what was happening right now. No man had ever made love to her like Buddy Beckett. Who knew Buddy Beckett would ruin her future with sex so fiery, so personal, and so passionate that no man would ever come close to matching it? Who knew Buddy Beckett would grab her by the heartstrings, giving her love she couldn’t help but return? He was looking at her now, his eyes dark and serious. She gazed back into them, saw the love shining, the love he’d kept simmering all these years. He was giving her everything—his body, heart, and soul. She knew she was going to leave and it would tear him apart. It would tear them both apart. Why did love have to find her now, when everything else in her life was about to line up like Mars and Jupiter in the western sky? It wasn’t just the way he touched her body with magic hands, but how he touched her soul with tenderness and passion. She loved Harlan Beckett. She’d tried to deny it, to pretend he was someone she could love and leave. He wasn’t. But damn it, all the wheels were in motion for everything she’d ever thought was important in life to come true. It was all happening two hundred miles away. And the first man she’d ever fallen in love with lived in a place she didn’t want to care about. She shouldn’t be here breaking their hearts. But Buddy went back to working magic on her. He drew her thoughts away from what she shouldn’t be doing and she gave in to what he was doing. He was one hell of a love machine and all Lexi wanted to do was keep chucking in quarters to keep him going. Instinctively, she 193

M. K. Trent raised her legs and wrapped them around Buddy’s back. Ka-ching! Buddy leaned down and took her mouth with his. His tongue searched for hers. She opened to him, sucking his tongue inside. Ka-ching! His hands moved around her hips, pulling her hard against him. Lexi lifted her hips and pushed into his thrust. Ka-ching! The tremors started again, this time harder than before. Wave after wave rolled over her. She’d won the jackpot. Lights. Bells. Whistles. Love! Lexi heard screaming. It took a minute before she realized it was her making all the noise. Well, not entirely all the noise. Buddy sounded a lot like she thought Riley, the bull, must sound when he delivered the goods. He finally collapsed on her and rolled to the side, panting like he’d run a marathon. She couldn’t blame him. She felt like she’d run a marathon. Lexi thought she’d had some toe-curling sex in the past. How could anything be as thrilling as what they’d just shared? Her throat was raw from screaming. Buddy pushed damp hair off his forehead and lay with the back of his hand against his eyes. After a minute, he snaked his arm under her shoulders and pulled her against him. He didn’t say anything, just kissed her tenderly on her forehead and held her tight, as if he was afraid she was going to disappear into thin air. Lexi couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Of course, she didn’t want to. Lying in Buddy’s arms was the best. She wished everything outside this room would go away forever and she could stay just like this, snuggled warm and safe within his embrace. After a few minutes, she felt Buddy’s arm go limp. His breathing evened out and she knew he’d fallen asleep. She wished sleep would take her too. There were so many confusing thoughts muddled together in her brain. She lay in the deepening twilight, watched the fan rotate slowly overhead, and wondered how life could have gotten so complicated. 194

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Chapter 24 Second Helpings Anyone? Buddy woke to the soft feel of Lexi’s fingers running through the hair on his chest. He lay there a minute with his eyes closed to savor her touch. When her fingernails slid down his abdomen, he opened an eye and grabbed her hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning my house?” Lexi sat bolt upright and stared at him. “Huh?” Buddy turned on his side, one leg propped up. He ran his finger between her breasts. “I did the requisite male thing and fell asleep. Aren’t you supposed to be wildly energized and dusting furniture?” Lexi flopped back in bed next to him. “Hardly. Dusting is the last thing on my mind right now, Beckett.” Buddy cupped his hand around her breast and toyed with her nipple. “So what is on your mind?” “I’m thinking of second helpings,” she answered. “I don’t have to wait for my batteries to recharge like you do.” She turned toward him and reached between his legs to cradle his balls in her palm. “They are recharged, right?” Her hand was warm, her mouth warmer, as she teased his testicles. His groan rose all the way from the bottom of his gut. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She sat up and gave him a shove. “On your back, cowboy.” “Yes ma’am.” “I want you at full attention.” “Yes ma’am.” “And stop that ma’am crap.” Buddy chuckled. “Yes ma’am.” His chuckle turned to a choked cry when Lexi ran her tongue up the length of his erection. He tried to watch as her mouth came over him, but he could only squeeze his eyes shut and growl with pleasure. 195

M. K. Trent Lexi let him go and chortled. “Got you where I want you, now, Harlan.” She didn’t give him time to answer. Lexi made love to him with her hands and her mouth. In all his experience, no woman had done this to him. He’d never felt comfortable asking and no one had ever offered. Not like Lexi offered herself to him. “God, Lexi.” Just when he thought he was about to lose it, she quit. He knew exactly how she’d felt when he’d stopped long enough to open the condom—frustrated and ready to scream. “Get the condom,” she ordered. He twisted around and fumbled in the drawer. “Shit,” he muttered. “Shit, shit, shit!” When he found one, she took it from him, opened it deftly, and slowly slid it the length of his shaft. The anticipation was almost more than he could stand. “Now, Harlan Beckett. I’m going to ride you so hard, you’ll beg me for mercy.” “Bring it on, baby.” Slow and easy, Lexi devoured the length of him. The heat of her body enveloped him like fire. She stopped with him fully inside her. He wanted to move, but she held firm. And then squeezed those incredible muscles around him. “Holy shit,” he rasped. “Like that, Harlan? Hmmmmm?” She was giving him the look, the one that said she was in total control. There was no doubt about it—she had his full attention. He also knew there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for this woman—including let her go. He didn’t allow himself to think about it. He didn’t want to disappoint Lexi tonight. Tonight was for loving, not for leaving. Lexi knew all the hot moves—ones that made him glad to be a man. Some men might have just laid back and taken. He didn’t. He wanted to give, too. With his hands on her wonderfully tight bottom, he scooted up to a sitting position to hold Lexi on his lap. She continued working him over like a lap dancer at the girly-bar near the racetrack. 196

Locking Horns How lucky could one guy get? How lucky was he to have those gorgeous city-girl boobs bouncing in his face? He took advantage, tasting each one like it was his last meal. Lexi gave him a seductive laugh. “You like this position, huh?” “Oh, yeah.” “Well, I want you on your back, cowboy.” She shoved at him and pushed him back down. “This is my show, Harlan. Got it?” Buddy grinned. “Got it, woman. You better get on with it.” “On with this?” Buddy thought he’d died and gone to heaven when Lexi squeezed him again with her incredibly tight muscles. “Or this?” She slowly slid the length of him, taking him entirely, one inch at a time. His whole body tensed. “Or this?” She changed her position and he couldn’t hold back. “Give it to me,” she hollered. “Give it all to me.” As he spiraled out of control, he felt her begin to clench and shiver. Her orgasm put him over the edge. Nothing remained except the heat of the woman he loved and the night. **** Buddy lay with a smile on his face and Lexi snuggled in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his chest. He released a contented sigh. “You know, I don’t think I can count this toward your community service time.” “Spoilsport,” she murmured. “Who would know?” “Hmmmm. I think Eddie might wonder what we were doing at this time of night.” Lexi chuckled. “Servicing the bull?” Buddy laughed. “The bull is pretty content right now.” **** Buddy stood at his bedroom window while the crisp morning air sent goosebumps over his naked body. The sun was just peeking over the tree line, its rays painting his fields with gold. He turned and watched Lexi sleep, 197

M. K. Trent her chest softly rising and falling. God, he loved this woman. She made him feel whole, complete. Everything he’d ever hoped and dreamed had finally come true. His heart was so full it hurt. He padded softly to the dresser, rummaged through the papers, found his notepad and pencil, and began to write. Dawn In the early morning, you lie in slumber, hair tousled, eyelashes dark and soft against your cheeks. I can’t deny my love when I see you, in the quiet hours of dawn. B. Beckett Buddy reverently folded the paper, removed the box from the closet, and tucked it in the envelope at the bottom with the other poems he’d written for Lexi. Someday, maybe he’d give them to her. Or maybe not. He slipped into his jeans and left to do his chores, quietly closing the door behind him. When he returned, the sun already warmed the room. Lexi was still sleeping, though she’d tossed the sheet aside and lay in naked splendor across the bed. He stopped at the doorway to admire the warm color of her skin, the satiny sheen to her hair, the way her body dipped and curved. Shedding his clothes, he joined her on the bed. Her eyes flicked open and closed again. She stretched and snuggled against him. “Hmmmm. You smell like sunshine,” she murmured. “You smell like sex,” he replied. Lexi chuckled. “I wonder why.” “Could be the thing that kept us awake most of the night.” Lexi stretched again, then rolled over and laid her 198

Locking Horns arms across his chest, resting her chin against her hands. She gave him a radiant smile. “Best all-nighter I’ve ever pulled.” Buddy put his arm around her back to run his hand up and down her soft skin. “Me too.” He closed his eyes, enjoying the wonder of Lexi’s body fitted so perfectly against his. He’d been with women before, even spent the night with a couple of them. But he’d never felt right with anyone like he did with Lexi. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to tell her how much he loved her. But he didn’t. He satisfied himself with a moment that would be gone too soon. Lexi poked at him. “Don’t you have to get up at the crack of dawn and do something out there, Farmer Beckett?” “Uh-huh. I already did. You were sleeping so well, I didn’t disturb you.” “Wow! I must have been zonked not to know you were gone.” Buddy remembered the way she’d looked, cuddled up in his bedclothes. He felt the tightness return to his gut and the tingle in his loins. Knowing what sex was like with Lexi drove him damn near crazy with lust. “Let me wash you in the shower,” he murmured, his voice tight with need. In return, Lexi tipped her head toward him and smiled. “As long as you’ve got lots of hot water. I’m not in the mood for a quickie.” “Brand new fifty gallon job.” He smacked her on the butt. “Get up, woman. I’ve got a hard-on that won’t wait.” “Harlan Beckett, you’re a damn sex-fiend,” she drawled. **** Lexi sipped her coffee while Buddy cooked breakfast. She was wrapped in one of Buddy’s long-sleeve shirts and wore the decadent black underwear with the brilliant red heart at the crotch. She couldn’t believe he’d bought them all those weeks ago or that they actually fit. Buddy’s movements looked almost choreographed, like a ballet through the kitchen. Flip the eggs, pirouette, and pop the toast in. A graceful stride to the refrigerator 199

M. K. Trent for another stick of butter, a turn, poke the bacon, and pepper the potatoes. She liked watching him. He was so at ease with who he was and what he did. She snuggled deeper into his shirt, his scent almost surpassed that of frying bacon. “How did you end up with all this?” she asked. He turned slightly, glanced in her direction with a quizzical look on his face. “Went to the supermarket.” “Not eggs and toast. The ranch. It must have taken a lot of money to buy the land, get the business going, and the expense of college. I know how much that costs.” Harlan and Charlene probably hadn’t had enough money to pay for college. With nine children and Patty’s medical bills, she was sure they barely kept their heads above water. Buddy picked up the heavy cast-iron skillet and scooped fried potatoes onto two plates. With his back to her, he answered, “I got drunk one afternoon and played the ponies. Bet on couple of sorry-ass nags and won a zillion to one Trifecta.” “Whoa! Can I go to the races with you sometime?” Buddy set the skillet down, picked up another, and slid the eggs onto the plates. He carried the plates to the table. “I’ve never been back. Thought I’d go out on top. Actually, that was only my third or fourth visit to the track. Daddy took us boys a couple of times when we were younger. But we never bet. We just watched the horses run. We’re not a betting kind of family. Daddy didn’t have the money to throw away, you know. I mean, there were a lot of us kids and we weren’t rich.” “Wow! You picked these horses while you were drunk?” Buddy shrugged and continued buttering toast. “Yeah. If I’d been sober, I never would have bet anything, especially not on those horses. I liked their names and being inebriated, I thought that was a good reason to bet on them. I bet a couple of bucks. Got a million in return. Government got half. Part of it went into a trust for Patty’s care.” He put the toast and bacon on the table and sat across from Lexi. “A trust fund for Patty? Who’s going to take care of her?” 200

Locking Horns Buddy shrugged. “Daddy and Momma for now. I set it up because they’re not going to be around forever. Which ever one of us kids takes her in afterwards will use the money to care for her.” He glanced over at Lexi. “Eat up while it’s hot.” Lexi set her coffee cup down, picked up the toast, and poked at her egg yolks. Across the table, Buddy dove in like he was starving. But then, he probably was. They hadn’t had anything to eat since the picnic and the clock in the living room was already chiming nine. They’d definitely gotten plenty of exercise. She had no reason to workout for at least three days. “I guess Dad figured I wasn’t coming back last night.” Buddy grinned. “If he didn’t, I’m sure Lenny pointed it out. He’s not exactly selective in what he says. If he thinks it, he says it.” Lexi nibbled on her bacon as she eyed Buddy. “I suppose they’re all hoping for a wedding, then, huh?” He didn’t look at her as he dabbed a forkful of hash browns into his egg yolk. “If wishes were horses then beggars would ride,” he said softly. She sat there, fork poised over her plate. “Yeah. It’s just that....I don’t know. I hate when people assume things. Someone is always disappointed.” Buddy reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m not disappointed. So don’t fret over it. You and I—we’re the ones that count, right?” “Right.” She gave him a tight smile and turned her attention to her plate. Sometimes life threw you curves. Lexi had just gotten one, a really big curve. She thought she could pull this off—have a night of hot sex and go merrily on her way to Philadelphia. She thought she could scratch the itch, put a little ointment on it, and it would be okay. Now she knew it would never be okay. She realized exactly what she was leaving behind—Harlan Beckett and a chance at love. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was in love with Buddy. He’d slipped into her heart so subtly she hadn’t even realized it until last night. Sure, he tickled her sexual curiosity. He made her laugh. He was charming. 201

M. K. Trent But how did all those things add up to love? What the hell was she going to do now? The phone interrupted her thoughts. “Probably Dad.” Buddy’s chair scraped against the floor as he got up to answer it. “Beckett.” Lexi waited for him to hand her the phone, but he didn’t. She listened to Buddy’s end of the conversation. “Hey, Merle. What’s up? Uh-huh. Uh-huh.” There was a long silence and then Buddy said, “How much are you looking at, Merle?” She saw Buddy’s shoulders sag almost imperceptibly. “Hmmmm. I don’t know if I can come up with that much. Can I think about it for a couple of days? Yeah, I understand. I’ll get back to you by the end of the week.” Buddy hung the phone on the wall and ambled back to the table. He silently went back to his breakfast. Lexi waited, wondering what had upset him. He glanced up at her. “You better eat up. Eggs suck when they get cold.” “What’s wrong?” Buddy dropped his fork and picked up his coffee cup. “That was Merle Souder. I rent fifty acres from him across the way, where we baled hay last week. He’s getting on in years. He’ll be ninety next fall and wants to sell the land. Gave me first chance to buy it.” “So, are you going to?” Buddy shrugged and set his coffee down untouched. “He wants a million dollars for it. It’s fifty acres of prime housing development property. He’s been given an offer by a company from Maryland.” “That’s a lot for fifty acres,” Lexi said. “You think you can get a loan for that much?” Buddy gave a derisive laugh. “I couldn’t pay it back if somebody was stupid enough to give it to me.” “What about your hay over there? Will he pay you what you’ll lose this summer?” “He said he’ll put a clause into the contract so I can finish out the summer before they start building. It’s not this summer I have to worry about. It’s next.” He picked up his toast and shoved it through the eggs. “If I can’t grow my own hay and corn, I’ll have to buy it. That adds to my overhead big time.” 202

Locking Horns “Hmmmm.” Lexi contemplated that for a minute. “And there’s no way you can come up with that kind of money?” Buddy snorted. “Hell no, Lexi. I don’t have the resources your Daddy does. I turn a profit, but it’s only enough to get along. There’s nothing left to pay on a loan that big.” “Kind of a downer, huh?” “Yeah.” He sipped his coffee silently, then reached over and touched her hand. “Thanks for last night.” She squeezed his fingers. “It was the best, Buddy.” “Yeah. The best.”

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Chapter 25 When the Right Brain Kicks In “Carrie, Carrie, Carrie. You’ll never guess.” Lexi lay on the floor of her room, her feet propped up on her bed, her head spinning from her wild night of sex, and the inconvenient realization that she loved Buddy. “You went to bed with him.” “Spoilsport. You could have just asked what.” “Details. I need details,” Carrie screamed. Lexi suddenly broke into tears. She sat up, tucked her legs Indian style, and rested her forehead on her hand. She couldn’t stop sobbing. “That bad?” Carrie asked. Between sobs, Lexi managed, “No. That good. He’s a killer sex machine.” “I can’t believe you’re crying because the sex was so good. You’re a mess, Lexi.” “Yeah, I know.” Lexi yanked a tissue from the box on the bedside table and blew her nose. “He was so gentle and sexy and hot and I was soooooo stupid in high school.” “Look, how could you know he’d be a killer sex machine back then? Maybe he wasn’t when he was seventeen. Maybe it took a few years of practice to get it right.” “Oh, Carrie. This was more than just the sex. It’s the great big problem called love.” “Oh boy! The big L word. How cool is that?” Lexi sniffled and sighed. “I’m leaving Carrie. I’m moving to Philly to take the job Doris offered me. I’ve already made up my mind and now this.” She started to bawl again. “Do you love him, Lexi?” The same question the Queen had asked. “I’ve never been in love before, but I think so,” she murmured. “And then I think there’s no way. But then he looks at me like I’m a Goddess and I want to hang onto him like there’s no 204

Locking Horns tomorrow.” “Are you going to miss him when you leave?” Lexi felt her heart drop into her toes. “Yes,” she whispered. “And I’m going to pine away and die an old maid, Carrie,” she whined. “I could never sleep with another man. Not after Buddy.” “Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh. Can I borrow this guy for a night?” An hour of discussion with Carrie put Lexi no closer to understanding her feelings for Buddy. All it did was make her wish he’d come over for an instant replay of last night—the sex and the raw emotional eddy pulled her under. Buddy had dropped her off at the house and headed over to his parents’ farm to discuss the land deal Merle had offered him. She didn’t know when she’d see him again. She felt like a teenager, torn between dreams and love, sex and sanity. Staring at the phone didn’t make Buddy call. Wishing didn’t make him appear at the front door. And then there was the panic—maybe he wouldn’t call or come over and she’d never see him again. Not that it would happen. She still had almost sixty hours of community service to fulfill at the ranch. There was no way she’d get out of that, move to Philly or no. Eddie Ruckenbeak would see to it she finished all one hundred hours—thank God for the Geek. It was a small consolation, though. Only sixty hours left with Buddy Beckett. With no luck putting Buddy out of her mind, Lexi went downstairs to face her father’s knowing looks. He’d given her a shit-eating grin when Buddy dropped her off. In fact, he’d been spying at the window when Buddy gave her that last hot kiss. But her father was easier to face than her room and the constant replay of the most perplexing night of her life. **** Buddy made his rounds and checked on Lady Luck with her new calf. She seemed content, munching on her high-test grain and the hay Beaver left her. He went outside and leaned his forearms on the fence, looking out over his acres of cattle. It was dusk and the moon, just 205

M. K. Trent past full, was peaking over the horizon. The occasional sound of lowing calves and answering mothers drifted on the south wind. This was everything Buddy had ever dreamed of—his own ranch, a healthy herd of Longhorns, new calves, and rows of corn ready to sprout. But he felt an aching hole inside. He wanted to share all this with someone. Not just someone—with Lexi. He wanted her to be here with him, drinking in the sweet smell of hay in the field and the pungent odor of cattle and damp soil. She’d never get used to the earthy smell of manure. Especially since he’d made her clean all those stalls and spread almost the entire winter pile on his fields. He chuckled, looking at the fresh-cut boards on the fence she’d plowed through with the Bobcat. He was lonely, damn it. He’d been so busy all these years building his cattle empire, he hadn’t had time to be lonely. If the truth be known, he probably was and just hadn’t thought about it. Tonight, he indulged his heart and let the ache settle in. It was worse, knowing what it could be like with Lexi. Last night was, without a doubt, the most incredible night of his entire life. In his wildest imagination, he could never have manufactured a night of sex so hot his whole body burned with the memory. Maybe he should call her. And maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe she wanted another night of hot sex. Maybe she needed some space. She’d seemed awfully quiet all the way back to her father’s place. He absently toyed with his lower lip, remembering how Lexi had taken him into her mouth and loved him with her body. He shifted uncomfortably. Damn, but he was a miserable S.O.B. tonight. Years ago, he vowed never to let a woman get to him again. And damned, but it was the same woman who’d driven him to make that vow was driving him nuts tonight. “You got ants in your pants, Boss?” Buddy jumped at the sound of Beaver’s voice. He thought Beaver had already gone home. “Nah. Got a rock in my boot.” Or my head up my ass. “Why don’t you just get rid of it?” Beaver asked. 206

Locking Horns “Easier said than done.” Beaver leaned on the fence next to Buddy. “Yeah? Is it a big one?” “Oh, yeah. Really big.” “Hmmmmm.” The two stood silently a few minutes before Beaver piped up. “You outta do somethin’ about that rock.” “Yeah. You’re right. I outta.” He slapped Beaver on the back. “See you later.” All the way over to the Cunningham place, Buddy alternately kicked himself and patted himself on the back. What if Lexi was spending quality time with her father? He’d interrupt that. But what if she was sitting in the moonlight all alone and as lonely as he was? He’d be her savior. What if she didn’t want to see him? What if she was praying he’d come over? What if she slammed the door in his face? What if she invited him upstairs to her bedroom? What if....? “Jeez, Louise!” he said aloud. “Just stop it. Just shut up and stop arguing with yourself, you big lovesick dope.” He was a lovesick dope. Lexi did that to him. It left him a little peeved that a mere woman could make him come unglued like this. Him. Buddy Beckett. Cool dude. He turned into the long driveway of Charlemane Thoroughbreds and slowed. The house was intimidating. He hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it wasn’t so awesome before. Maybe it was just tonight, he let it overwhelm him. What if Lexi regretted last night big time? Too late to worry about it now. He couldn’t just turn around in front of the big, wide porch and go home unnoticed. His old truck made too much racket for that. He remembered the reason he was here. He needed to remove a great big rock from his boot. Lexi heard the squeaky suspension and rumbling engine before the vehicle made it all the way up the drive. She sat up in the garden tub of her private bathroom and glanced out the big windows that surrounded it. All she could see was two headlights slowly coming up the drive. Damn. What if it was Buddy? She’d just got comfy in the big tub of hot water and she didn’t think her father 207

M. K. Trent would look the other way if she invited Buddy to join her. She heard the engine cut off and the slam of a door. “Dad?” she hollered, sure he couldn’t hear her through the closed door. The doorbell chimed. Bing, bong, bing. She waited a minute and listened to see if her father would be able to get to the door. Bing, bong, bing. Lexi stood up and quickly wrapped a huge towel around her. She rubbed the water from her arms and legs and slid into her soft pink terry robe. “Coming,” she hollered from the top of the stairs. Downstairs, she heard the clop, clop of her father’s walker as he headed toward the door. She hesitated at the top of the stairs while her father opened the door. “Good evening, Mr. Cunningham. I was just wondering if Lexi was busy.” Lexi plunked on the step to try to see Buddy. She snuggled the robe tighter around her neck and trembled with the ache that welled up inside her. It had tormented her all day and the cause was standing at her front door. She was wet, steamy, and wrapped in only a robe at the top of the stairs like a kid on Christmas Eve looking for Santa. Well, Santa just walked in, honey! “Come in. Come in.” Her father invited Santa in. Lexi smiled and wondered what presents he might have in his jeans—uhbag for her tonight. “Upstairs. Um, I’ll get her.” Lexi ran to her room as she heard her father’s walker clop, clopping toward the intercom system. She wanted to put on her silky black negligee to meet Santa, but that might be too presumptuous. She needed to be a little less obvious in her seduction, considering her father was home. “Oh crap,” she moaned. She hadn’t shaved her legs yet. Her hair was damp on the ends and hardly silky after her day moping around. She didn’t even have on any mascara. How totally inconvenient of Santa not to give her notice so she could be ready. She heard her father’s voice on the intercom announcing Santa’s arrival. “Be down in a minute,” she 208

Locking Horns called. She’d probably just lied. After all, she couldn’t shave her legs and be dressed in a minute. Buddy sat in the formal living room with Ray, made small talk, and wondered what Lexi was doing upstairs. This was definitely the longest minute in history. He wondered if she was trying to think of a reason to send him packing or finding just the right perfume to titillate his senses. He didn’t hear her come down—but he smelled her. It was all he could do not to close his eyes and suck up the sensual scent. Lexi appeared in the doorway wearing jeans and a cute little top that ended well before the jeans began. Her bellybutton winked at him as she moved. “Hey, Buddy. What brings you over tonight?” Did he detect a hint of excitement in her voice? He stood and gave her a tentative smile. “Nothing much going on at the ranch. Thought maybe you’d like to....” He couldn’t come out and say screw my brains out in front of her father. “Go for ice cream?” How lame was that? “Ice Cream?” Lexi glanced at her watch. “Is there someplace besides the strip clubs and slots open in Charles Town this time of night?” Buddy deadpanned. “I don’t think the strip clubs serve ice cream. Whipped cream, maybe.” “With cherries?” Lexi’s father choked back a laugh. “Think I’ll go read the television. Watch the television.” He stood and glanced knowingly from one to the other, lifted a corner of his mouth in salute, and clop-clopped toward his room. Buddy impatiently watched him go, wanting to be alone with Lexi—to pull her against him and kiss her silly. He turned his attention back to Lexi and noticed the wet ends of hair against her neck, the damp warmth radiating from her skin, and the soft scent of peaches. He was sure he’d interrupted a bath. He wished he could have joined her in her tub instead of inviting her for ice cream. But ice cream would have to do. Maybe afterwards...that rock was sure getting bigger and it was no longer in his boot. 209

M. K. Trent Buddy swallowed hard. “So, ice cream?” “Sure. Why not?” Because I don’t really want ice cream. They ended up at Ruby Tuesday’s, sharing a Strawberry Tallcake and talking. Buddy dipped his spoon into the glass and scooped out a nice chunk of cake and strawberries. He held it out to Lexi. She took the bite, closed her eyes, and slowly savored the strawberry. Buddy nearly died. He ate the next spoonful. He didn’t think he’d survive watching Lexi tease another strawberry with her tongue. “So what advice did your daddy have about the land?” she asked. Buddy didn’t really want to talk about the fields or think about the oversized, cookie cutter houses that would probably be there next year. But she’d asked. “Daddy said what I thought he’d say. Don’t get in over your head or you’ll lose everything. Momma said to pray. That’s Momma’s solution to most everything.” Lexi smiled at him. “So did you pray?” Buddy took another bite. “I guess. If you call Jesus Christ, what next, praying.” Lexi gave him a poignant look. “So, what next?” Buddy shrugged. “I don’t know.” They ate in silence for a minute before he remembered the phone call he’d gotten that afternoon. “I got a full-time job offer from the college.” Lexi’s spoon stopped digging in the glass. “Really? Wow! I guess your prayers were answered then. Would you start next semester?” The ice cream stuck in Buddy’s throat. He didn’t want the job. “Yeah. They want me to start in the fall.” “You’re going to take it, right? I mean, if you had the full time job you could afford the property.” “But I wouldn’t be there to work it, so what good would it do?” Lexi was all smiles. “You could hire a couple of guys to work it. Voilá. Problem solved.” “I’m not taking it, Lexi.” Buddy saw Lexi’s incredulous look over the ice cream glass. “I don’t want to teach full time, Lexi. I like things just like they are.” 210

Locking Horns “But...” Lexi set her spoon down. “Why couldn’t you do both? I mean, what do the cows do all day? Don’t they just wander around and eat? Couldn’t a couple of hired hands take care of things while you teach?” “It’s not that I couldn’t hire help to run the ranch, Lexi. I could hire a couple of guys and spend all day away from home. But I don’t want to. I like what I do. If I didn’t, I never would have started ranching.” “But look at the economics of it.” Lexi’s voice was insistent. “You need to grow your business. Small farms and ranches are disappearing. They don’t make enough money to keep food on the table for the families. You work twelve to sixteen hours a day and...” She looked thoughtful. “Remember that day out in the rain, Buddy? Remember how cold and miserable you were? You spent a couple of hours in a cold downpour. Your teeth were chattering so bad, I could hardly understand you. “Why would you want to do that year after year, when you could sit in a comfortable classroom? You said yourself the kids you teach want to be there. It’s not like they don’t care what you’re teaching them.” The strawberries turned sour. Buddy figured Lexi wouldn’t understand. How could she? She hated life in West Virginia so much, she hardly ever came home. And she resented her father’s farm, her father’s dream. How could he expect her to buy into the whole idea of ranching with a background like that? He tossed his napkin on the table. “Lexi, this is who I am. I was raised on a farm. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to raise cattle. Some days are hard. Some days, you get so cold you wish you could go to hell and warm up. And some days are so hot, you know you got your wish. “But all that fades away when I see a new calf take its first breath, when I see the sun rise over the barn on a crisp, snowy December morning, when I see the hayfields rippling in the wind and the hawk rising above me, and the sun set over the fields—my fields, Lexi. It fills my heart so full I can hardly breathe. “My momma and my daddy loved me and the rest of the kids. I got to get up every morning to watch the sun rise. I got to smell fresh hay being cut. I got to watch baby 211

M. K. Trent pigs being born. I got to grow up with a family so big I can hardly remember everybody’s connection to everybody else. That’s the kind of life I want, Lexi. “I don’t want to smell exhaust fumes, listen to horns honk and lights flash, and never know my neighbor. That might be the kind of life for you, but it’s not for me.” Lexi tossed her napkin on the table. “So what choices do you have, Buddy? If you don’t take the teaching job, you risk losing everything anyway. Without the hay, your overhead goes up. The price of beef won’t go up enough to cover that.” “I’ll take my chances, Lexi. It’s what ranchers have been doing for years.” “So if ranchers burned their barns down, you’d do it too?” She flung her hand in the air for emphasis. “Like lemmings running into the sea or sheep to the slaughter. I don’t understand that mentality. You’ve got a perfect solution to your dilemma and you’re going to ignore it.” “It’s about who I am, Lexi. If you can’t understand that, there’s nothing left to talk about.” So much for an exciting evening. Buddy was being hard-headed and throwing away a perfect opportunity. How could she ever fit into his life? Sometimes you had to be creative to keep yourself afloat. Buddy wasn’t interested in options. He just wanted to meander along like the creek, letting fate push him forward or backward. They finished the dessert in silence. Lexi couldn’t read Buddy’s face. He’d shut her out, put on his I’m not talking about it any more attitude. Just like her father when he’d decided to buy the property in Charles Town. There was no way around bull-headed people who made decisions based on their own childish ideas. Look what it had done to her family. She’d hated her life here and run away from it. Her mother finally had enough and just left. Lexi was positive the one thing she didn’t want was a life where only one partner’s dreams meant anything. The ride home was quiet, the air charged with unsaid words. They were only feet apart, but Lexi felt the distance between them widen with each mile. Buddy gave her a miniscule brush of his lips at her door. “See you tomorrow?” he asked. 212

Locking Horns “No. I’m headed to Baltimore in the morning. I’ve got to stop by the office before heading to Philadelphia on Thursday.” “Okay. When will you be back?” Lexi shrugged. “Depends how things go in Philly. I’ll need to look around the area. Decide where I want to live. I might be back over the weekend. Maybe not.” Buddy stood in silence for a minute, then nodded and turned away. “Call me when you’re coming over next,” he hollered from the truck. “Yeah. I will.” Lexi wasn’t sure if she felt depression, anger, sorrow or frustration or a combination of all of them. She was definitely sorry the evening hadn’t turned out as she expected. She was frustrated and wanted more hot sex. But more than that, she was depressed about the turn of events. And she was a bit angry Buddy wouldn’t even consider the job at the university. God knows the money would buy him the land he needed. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes to clear her mind of all the mumbo-jumbo going through it right now. “Lexi?” Heavy sigh. “Yeah, Dad. It’s me.” She found her father in the sitting room with the television on and a book lying across his chest. He looked like he’d just awakened. “Home early.” Lexi stood in the doorway and leaned against the jamb. “Yeah.” Her father patted the overstuffed arm of the chair he was sitting in. “Not, um, good?” She didn’t really want to talk about it, but Lexi went in and sat on the arm of the chair anyway. She needed her father, and right now he was offering the fatherdaughter relationship she’d always wanted. She put her arm around him and kissed the top of his head. “How are you tonight?” “Better....uh, better than you. Tumble in paraffin? No, trouble. Trouble in, um. You know.” “Not helping you, Dad. Try again.” He huffed impatiently and finally stuttered out, 213

M. K. Trent “Para.... dike. Trouble in paradise.” Lexi shrugged. “Buddy’s going to lose everything and he’s too bull-headed to do what he can to save it.” Her father patted her knee. “Losing you?” “Oh, Dad. Stop that. I’m not his to lose. Buddy’s going to lose the ranch. That’s what I’m talking about.” “Money?” “Sort of. In a round-about way.” She dumped the whole story about the rented fields and Buddy’s refusal to take the job to get the money to buy them. “So, because he won’t take the job, he can’t get a loan to buy the property. If he doesn’t have the land, he’ll have to buy hay and corn for his cattle. That adds too much to his overhead and he won’t be able to make ends meet. “It’s so simple. All he has to do is take the teaching job and hire a couple of guys to take care of the ranch.” She sat silently pouting about Buddy’s stupid decision. “You think, um, he should, should do something he, he doesn’t like?” Lexi got up and turned the television off. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the fireplace mantle. “He likes teaching. He enjoys the class he teaches now. What’s wrong with doing it full time?” Ray shook his head. “It’s about, about fellowing, no following a dream, honey. I know how much I, um, I hurt you and...God, I miss Claire. I did it all, all wrong. But if I had the chance and hadn’t taken it...I’d not been, um.” He struggled for the words. “True. True to me. To myself and my...dreams. “Buddy. He wants, wants to work. Work the land. He can’t do, can’t work the land from...from a desk at a, a school.” “But he won’t have any land to work,” Lexi insisted. “Merle Souder is going to sell his land to developers. Buddy won’t be able to feed his cattle. No feed, no cattle. No cattle, no ranch.” “So you, um, you think Buddy should, should...damn, the words! Should change who he is?” he asked slowly. “Would it change who he is if he taught?” “Take him away. Away from the ranch. Who is he then?” “He’d still be Buddy. Buddy, the great teacher.” 214

Locking Horns Ray nodded in agreement. “Yes. Not Buddy the, the rancher.” Lexi tossed her arms in the air. “Talking to you is like talking to Buddy. You’re both damned hardheaded men.” She stormed out of the room and went upstairs. Her father called after her, but she ignored him. In her room, Lexi pulled a suitcase out of the closet, yanked open a dresser drawer, and started flinging clothes in it. “Damned hardheaded men can’t see past their own noses.” She slammed an empty drawer and started on another. “Buddy is so short-sighted. All he wants is his precious cows. Well, his precious cows will be gone and then what? What will he do then?” She muttered to herself while she filled the suitcase. When it was stuffed, she got out the second one and tossed it at the bed. It missed, bounced back, and hit her in the ankle. “Damn it!” she hollered. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She kicked the suitcase and then collapsed on the bed in tears. “Damn you, Buddy Beckett,” she hissed between clenched teeth.

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Chapter 26 Redneck Night Out Lexi looked around her apartment. The modern, neutral-colored furniture seemed so sterile. The room felt so empty and lonely. All except the new picture she’d bought—the one of the old farmhouse nestled in the trees, surrounded by waving wheat fields and cattle. It reminded her of Buddy’s place—kind of rugged and homey—full of love. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d left West Virginia. So much had happened since then. Maria had moved into her father’s house, taking her place as her father’s caretaker, lover, and possible wife one day. She’d interviewed with the gym manager in Philly and been hired. She’d spent some time wandering the city and found a suitable apartment. She’d cried a lot about Buddy Beckett. Now, she needed to think about packing. After all, she was supposed to start the new job in Philadelphia in two weeks. But she couldn’t bring herself to begin the chore of moving out. She settled into the butter-soft corner of her leather couch and stared out the window, unable to focus her mind on the tasks ahead of her. After a bit, she picked up the phone and looked at it a few minutes, only to put it down. Saturday night was the gala party Atlas was throwing to announce their new gym in Philadelphia. She thought about inviting Buddy, nixed the idea, and thought about it again. She finally decided it wouldn’t hurt to invite him. After all, he’d probably decline anyway. She dialed his number before she could talk herself out of it. The phone rang and she heard Buddy’s voice on his answering machine. “Harlan J. Beckett Longhorns. Please leave a message and I’ll return your call as soon as possible.” Lexi hung up. She didn’t want to talk to his 216

Locking Horns answering machine. She dialed his cell phone. “Beckett.” “Hey, Buddy. It’s Lexi.” “Hi. How are you?” “Good. Real good,” she lied. This seemed so awkward. “Um, I wanted to invite you up here Saturday night. Atlas is throwing a big party to introduce the new gym and, um.” She took a deep breath. “I’d like you to go with me.” There. She’d gotten it out. “This coming Saturday?” “Yeah.” “I don’t suppose it’s a jeans affair, is it?” “Uh, no. Black tie.” She heard the humor in his voice. “I’ve got a black tie. I guess you’d be embarrassed if that’s all I wore.” Lexi laughed. “Harlan Beckett, you’re impossible,” she drawled. “Miss you,” he said so quietly she almost didn’t catch the words. Her voice caught in her throat. She missed him too— terribly. But did she dare admit it? “Yeah, I suppose now you can forget about that disaster insurance,” she joked. “Cancelled the policy.” “So, about Saturday....?” “If you think a redneck can find his way to the big city, I guess I can come up.” Lexi let out a sigh of relief. “Great. I’ll email you details and directions.” “Okay. Hey, I’ve got to run. Sorry. I’ve got a meeting at the university about next year’s curriculum and, if I don’t get a shower now, they’ll think I brought Daddy’s pig farm along.” “Got it. See you Saturday.” Lexi hung up. She leaped up and danced across the room, then twirled her way to the bedroom and threw herself on the bed, a huge smile creasing her face. “Yes!” she hollered. **** It was a hot Saturday afternoon. Buddy ran a finger under the stiff collar of the pleated white shirt and stared at himself in the mirror. He hardly recognized the man 217

M. K. Trent who stared back. He’d never worn a tuxedo before. It had taken him several minutes to get the odd little buttons through the buttonholes and the gray cummerbund properly in place. The highly polished black shoes winked back at him. He wiggled his toes and groaned. “Damn it, I can’t wear these things.” He perched on the edge of the bed and unlaced them. “Take these things and shove ‘em,” he muttered and tossed them toward the dresser. He got up and rustled through his closet. From the far back corner, he dragged out his gray snakeskin boots. Granny Beckett called them dancin’ boots. Rolling his pant legs, he slid his feet into his comfortable old friends. “Ahh! Much better.” The black pant legs fit perfectly over the tops of the boots. Looking at himself in the mirror, he felt a little less out of place and a lot more like Buddy Beckett, Texas Longhorn entrepreneur. With a last tweak of the bowtie, he headed downstairs to his newly washed and vacuumed pickup. They’d probably drive to the party in Lexi’s smart little BMW Z2 or he’d have borrowed his momma’s Altima. The truck was fine for getting him to Baltimore. He checked the directions one last time and headed north. An hour and a half later, he stood nervously in front of Lexi’s apartment wondering if he was overdressed. She’d said black tie and Momma had insisted he rent the tux. What if everybody else wore suits and ties? But Momma said you could never go wrong with a tux and he had to rely on her judgment when it came to dressing up. The fanciest party he’d been to was Georgie’s wedding and, as soon as the service was over, he’d shed the black suit jacket and tie and had a hell of a good time, if he remembered right. One last fiddle with the bowtie and he slammed the knocker against the metal door. In the quiet hallway, it sounded as loud as a woodpecker hammering on a tin roof. But it couldn’t quite compete with the slamming of his heart. Lexi checked her reflection in the full-length mirror and adjusted the delicate diamond-studded black bow tie around her neck. She wondered if anyone would be able see the way her stomach quivered beneath the soft fabric of her black dress. She thought about after the party, 218

Locking Horns when Buddy would make sweet love to her. The one shoulder strap would make it so easy for him to slide the dress off and leave it in a puddle at her feet. She gave herself a nervous smile, slipped into the satiny black high-heeled sandals studded with rhinestones, and nearly twisted her ankle when the loud rap on the door made her start. She ran to the living room. She was as anxious as a girl waiting for her first prom date to arrive. She stood for a minute, willed her breathing to slow, and her heart rate to level out at mach one. “Oh! My! Gawd!” she exclaimed as she opened the door. “I was expecting Buddy Beckett. Where the hell have you hidden him?” Buddy looked down at his boots. Her eyes followed his and she laughed. Not that his boots looked old or worn, but they were boots. “So you blew the incognito thing,” she said, her hand on her hip. “But, my-oh-my. You’re going to turn a few heads tonight, Harlan Beckett.” Buddy didn’t say a word. But his eyes devoured her, from the top of her shiny hair to the end of her red-tainted toenails peeking from underneath the flowing hem of her gown. Her skin heated from the thoroughness of his examination. He held out a small box. “For you.” His voice was low and promised more than an evening of restaurant fare. “Red roses. Glad you didn’t decide on an orange dress.” Lexi carefully lifted the fragile corsage from the box and slipped it on her wrist. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “For a beautiful woman.” Their eyes met and he leaned down to brush her lips with his, a feather-light touch that only hinted of what would come. Lexi took his hand and led him inside, shutting the door on the possibility that this was all a dream. Buddy was here in her apartment, warm, alive, and probably the most overtly sexual man she’d ever known. “I drove the truck,” he said. “Cleaned it up real nice. You’ll look great getting out of it in that dress.” The look on her face must have been priceless. 219

M. K. Trent Buddy’s mouth curled and then his eyes crinkled. And then he laughed—a sound that surrounded her like warm sunshine. She couldn’t help herself. Lexi wrapped her arms around Buddy’s neck. “I miss your humor, Beckett.” “Is that all you miss?” Goosebumps of anticipation shivered over her skin. “No. But we can take care of that later,” she whispered. “Promise?” “Promise.” She gave him a quick kiss and pulled away. “We need to get going. It’s only a few minutes walk from here. The harbor’s beautiful this time of night.” “So I cleaned the truck for nothing?” Lexi grinned. You don’t have any bull shit on your boots so it wasn’t for nothing.” **** Buddy had never been in a restaurant as classy as McCormick and Schmick. He felt like he was pretending to be somebody he wasn’t. But he refused to embarrass Lexi tonight. She was radiant and seemed to be totally at home in this atmosphere—a lot more at home than she was in West Virginia. When they walked in, a man she introduced as Phil Moorehead slid his arm around her and pulled her against him. She turned her cheek just in time to avoid Phil’s wet kiss. Buddy ground his teeth and bit back sudden anger. “Phil Moorehead, this is Harlan Beckett.” So, here he was Harlan. Interesting—he felt like a chameleon, conforming to Lexi’s world with his tuxedo and proper name. If anyone looked hard enough, they’d see his dusty jeans and home grown roots. Phil shook hands with Buddy, looking him up and down—sizing him up, Buddy thought. “So where are you from?” he asked, looking pointedly at Buddy’s boots. “God’s country,” Buddy replied. Phil laughed, a superficial ha ha that didn’t set well with Buddy. But he shrugged him off. There were assholes everywhere. Lexi laced her fingers with Buddy’s and led him through the restaurant, following a good distance behind Phil the Philanderer, as he’d nicknamed 220

Locking Horns him.

The party was held in an outdoor patio area accented by mood lighting, music, and a soft breeze from the harbor. Out on the deck, Buddy was aware of the looks the two of them got. It wasn’t just the men eyeballing Lexi in her evening gown, but the women openly flirted with him over their drink glasses. “Hey there handsome. Are those Stingray boots?” “No ma’am. Snake,” he replied. “Skinned him in my own backyard.” He was used to women at home coming on to him. After all, any male in jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat made the girls come unglued. But here, the high-fashion woman, dripping with diamonds, looked like she was about to orgasm. A buxom blonde sidled between them, sliding a finger under the lapel of his jacket. “Alexis, who is this fine young man and how did you meet him before I did?” “Harlan Beckett, meet Amanda Corbett. I guess I’m just one lucky lady, Amanda. We met over a little bull.” “Most people do, honey,” Amanda replied. She smiled at Buddy, showing off her perfectly aligned teeth. Buddy thought of a wolf, but this one didn’t have on sheep’s clothing. It was a deep V-cut top with a perfect view of size D cleavage. He was glad Lexi’s dress wasn’t cut like this. He wanted to be the only one privy to her body’s charms. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he said and stepped around Amanda to wrap an arm around Lexi’s waist, claiming her as his. At least for tonight. Amanda looked annoyed and turned away. “Champagne?” A waiter held a tray of glasses full of the bubbly liquid. Buddy took one and handed it to Lexi before taking his own. “Congratulations on your new job,” he said as they tapped them together. “Thanks,” Lexi murmured. Buddy cocked his head and gave her a long look. “You don’t seem all that excited. Job not what you thought it would be?” Lexi gave him a tight smile that quickly disappeared. “I think it will be good. It just can’t compare to shoveling 221

M. K. Trent manure from seventeen stalls.” “Especially when you’re naked from the waist up,” Buddy replied. Their eyes met and Buddy smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll knock ‘em dead, woman, manure or no.” An older woman in a red dress with a well-kept figure waved from across the room. She excused herself from the group she was with and headed toward them. “My boss,” Lexi whispered. “Alexis Cunningham, don’t you look beautiful tonight. Congratulations on the new position.” She eyed Buddy. “And who is this handsome fellow?” “Doris Heizman, Harlan Beckett.” “So nice of you to come tonight, Mr. Beckett. We’re really proud of Alexis. She’s been such an asset to Atlas Gyms.” “Thanks for having me, Ms. Heizman.” “Oh, there’s Carrie. I know you two will want to see each other. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” “We’ve kept in touch,” Lexi replied. “You two enjoy the evening.” Doris Heizman headed away on her elbow-rubbing mission and Lexi waved toward the couple in the doorway. “Carrie and her significant other, Dave,” Lexi told him. “Do I have to remember names?” “Only Doris and Carrie,” Lexi said. “The rest of them are history anyway.” “And Carrie is....?” “My best friend. We’ve been friends forever.” Buddy tipped the champagne glass back and emptied it. He wondered if Lexi had spilled the beans to Carrie about their night together. Women seemed to tell their friends all kinds of stuff like that. He knew the answer to that question when Carrie and Dave made their way through the crowd. The woman gave him a head to toe inspection, like she was trying to decide if he was worthy of her best friend. He noticed the covert thumbs up and decided he’d passed muster. “You must be Buddy.” “Yes ma’am.” Carrie hugged Lexi and introduced her friend, Dave. 222

Locking Horns A small chime sounded and Lexi explained it was time to find their seats for dinner. They were sitting with Carrie and Dave at a table with a great view of the water. Buddy surreptitiously inspected the table setting. There was more silverware at his place setting than his momma had for all eleven of them. When the salad was served, he kept a close eye on Lexi. She took the outside fork so he followed suit. It was kind of like learning a new dance—one step at a time. Keep your eye on the instructor, do-si-do, and don’t step on toes. Dave was a Godsend. He kept up a constant conversation with Buddy and even seemed interested in the cattle business. “Why Longhorns?” he asked. “Aren’t they mostly in Texas?” “Longhorns are easy cattle to raise anywhere. I wanted something different, so I picked them. You don’t see many Longhorns out this way.” Dave laughed. “I’m trying to imagine Lexi on a Longhorn ranch.” Buddy grinned. He leaned back in his chair and laid the back of his hand against Lexi’s cheek. “She’s been in a few pickles. But she’s a great study. I think one day she might be able to shovel shit without letting the cows out.” Lexi blushed, like he’d given her a compliment. Either that or she was embarrassed because he’d said shit in front of all these high-dollar people. She recovered nicely, telling Carrie and Dave about Randy, the Houdini bull. When they brought dinner, Lexi said, “I got you the filet mignon. I figured you’d want to support the industry.” “Thanks. I’ll tell Daddy you got the pig in his honor.” “Pig?” Dave asked. “My Daddy raises pigs.” At the table next to them, Phil leaned back in his chair and said, “Now how did I know that?” “Could be I’ve seen you there,” Buddy replied. Carrie roared, holding her sides. “Great comeback, Buddy.” Lexi eyed the two men. “Mind your own business Phil. I don’t believe you’re included in this conversation.” To Buddy, she said, “Ignore him. He’s a jerk.” 223

M. K. Trent “I kind of thought asshole,” he muttered. “You have an astute eye for people,” Carrie interjected. Did he? Or was he just jealous of the man who had touched Lexi so intimately? He needed to stay in control or he’d end up being the asshole this evening. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass Lexi. Lexi dragged Carrie with her to the ladies room. “I’m going to cut Phil’s nuts off if he keeps this up,” she spat. “I must have been totally insane to have ever gone out with him.” “I kind of thought you’d lost your mind. And then when you slept with him...” “Don’t remind me. That was a really low point in my life.” She touched up her lipstick. “He was actually pretty awful.” The two of them snickered. Lexi sobered quickly. “I’ll never forget the night I spent with Buddy.” She looked sadly at her reflection in the mirror. “Why am I doing this, Carrie?” Carrie gave her a hug. “You’ve got to do what’s best for you. If that’s moving to Philly, then you’ve got to do it.” Lexi clung to her friend. “But is it what’s best?” Carrie held Lexi by the shoulders and caught her eye. “Only you can decide that, Lexi.” She gave her a funny grin. “If you don’t take him, can I have him? My God, he’s gorgeous and sweet and the way he looks at you....” “How does he look at me?” “Same kind of look you said Randy the bull gives you—all sappy eyed. But sad, too. Like he knows you’ve got to leave.” She released Lexi’s shoulders and added, “We better get back to the table before Phil opens his obnoxious mouth again and Buddy puts one of those fancy boots up his ass.” Lexi laughed. “I’d give my eye teeth to see that.”

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Chapter 27 Heartbreak and Heaven The evening dragged on—speeches, toasts, and back patting. Lexi touched Buddy’s leg and he slid his hand into hers, lacing her fingers with his. She gave him a shy glance. It felt awkward with this crowd of people and Buddy. Like a collision of galaxies—the Snob Nebula versus Candid Planet. He looked the part of a high-society snob, but she knew better. Underneath that perfectly tailored tuxedo was a man proud of a father who raised pigs. A man who wiped tears from a handicapped sister’s cheeks. A man who wore dust and dirt as comfortably as most of these guys wore Armani suits. She was sorry she’d forced him into a mold that was a difficult fit for him. She’d wanted to be with him. She’d wanted to show him the life she’d carved out for herself was right and good—a life maybe he could embrace, too. But she was wrong. Buddy Beckett didn’t belong here in city society any more than she belonged on a West Virginia cattle ranch. But for her sake, he was making it. That was more than she could say for herself. She hadn’t allowed herself to even try in West Virginia. She’d had zero tolerance for anyone in her father’s world when she was sixteen. Nothing much had changed in the intervening years. Harlan J. Beckett had her respect. Funny how she had so little for herself. **** As the evening wore on, Lexi realized just how much Buddy didn’t fit into the society scene. He was too honest and more than once, her co-workers looked at him like he’d just shit in the middle of the floor. Unfortunately, the conversation turned to politics. “The death penalty is so savage, don’t you think?” The Atlas Board of Directors chairperson, Elsa Carmody, 225

M. K. Trent said as she eyed Buddy. “I mean, who are we to decide who should die?” “Who was Timothy McVeigh that he had the right to decide that a hundred and sixty some people should die?” Buddy asked. “So you believe twelve people had a right to send him to his death?” she asked. “It’s how the judicial system was set up. If you’ve got a better idea, ma’am, maybe you should tell your congressman.” The woman’s hackles were up. Lexi cringed. Most people didn’t publicly disagree with Elsa Carmody, let alone tell her what she ought to do. You certainly didn’t do it at a social event sponsored by the Gym. “You’re quite opinionated, young man.” Buddy shrugged. “My daddy always said you gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything.” Ms. Carmody’s nose went up in the air. “You ought to re-think what you stand for.” Buddy tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Maybe. Then again, maybe you should.” The woman marched off like she’d been slapped. “There goes my job,” Lexi lamented. “She’s the Chairperson of the Atlas Board.” It was a joke, but knowing Elsa Carmody, it could be a really bad one. “Sorry, Lexi. I’m not much for keeping my opinions to myself when somebody asks.” “I should have pointed out who she was so you could have done a few silent head nods and sent her on her way.” “I’m not an ass-kisser.” “I didn’t expect you to kiss her ass, Buddy. But sometimes it’s better to humor people than to head-butt them in public.” “I’m not very good at feeding egos, Lexi. If you want somebody like that, you might want to take up with your pal, Phil.” He nodded toward Phil, obviously sucking up to the Governor. “Sucking up has its place.” Buddy downed the last of his champagne and set the glass on the bar. “I think maybe it’s time I left. This isn’t the place for Farmer John and his redneck opinions.” 226

Locking Horns Anger flared inside Lexi. “Stop with the crap, Buddy. I feel like you want people to see you as a redneck. You’re more than that and you need to act like it.” Buddy’s eyes flashed as she looked at him. “I can’t act, Lexi. This is who I am. If you want to work for someone who might fire you for the opinions of your friends instead of appreciating the good job you do, go ahead.” The anger dissipated as quickly as it had come. She shook her head. “You’re right,” she said softly. “If Elsa Carmody fires me for your honesty, she isn’t worth working for. And I wouldn’t want you to try to be somebody you’re not just to please me or her. I guess I’ve played this game so long, I expect everyone to do it, too.” Buddy touched her arm, letting his fingers trail down to grasp her hand. “Stop playing the game, Lexi. You are who you are. You don’t need to pretend you’re someone else or apologize for it.” “Maybe that is who I am, Buddy. A player in the game.” “You’re selling yourself short, Lexi.” She gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She glanced around the room. “Let’s go home.” “Whatever you want to do.” On the walk back to Lexi’s apartment, the conversation strayed to small things. “How’s Randy doing? Does he still escape every chance he gets?” Lexi asked. “Only once. I’m a little worried about him, though. He’s off his feed and spends a lot of time at the fence staring at the road. I think he misses you.” Lexi laughed. “I kind of miss him too. What are you going to do with him?” “Not sure. Vet says he’s fine. I guess he’ll come around.” Lexi nodded. “I talked to Maria this morning. She says Dad rode one of the geldings yesterday. Said he did really well. Got mounted by himself.” “That’s great. I’m glad he has Maria there. I think the two of you had a lot to do with his recovery.” “Maybe. He wasn’t really himself after Mom left. He 227

M. K. Trent realized what he’d done, but there wasn’t anything he could do to change things. She wouldn’t talk to him. Wouldn’t reconsider.” “It’s good you were there for him.” Lexi shrugged. “I wasn’t. Not really. Not until he had the stroke. I feel bad about it. I guess I was being selfish, too.” She stopped in front of her apartment building. “Well, here we are.” “Yep.” Lexi tipped her head back and looked up at Buddy. “I’d like it if you stayed with me tonight.” Buddy touched her chin with his finger, then leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t a hot, steamy kiss. More of a gentle, tender, and loving one. But she knew he wouldn’t stay. When he ended the kiss, Buddy rested his hands on her shoulders, his eyes dark and serious. “I think it’s best we say goodbye now. The longer we put it off, the more it’ll hurt.” Lexi felt the tears well up. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Buddy. Not ever. But it was inevitable and he was right. The longer they put it off, the harder it would be. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. She just nodded and looked away. “Well, this is awkward,” she finally managed. “I’m sorry, Lexi,” Buddy replied. She felt a tear slide down her cheek. “Me too.” She sniffled. “What about my community service? I still have a lot of hours left. We’ll have to see each other...” “I’ll make it right with Eddie.” “But...” Buddy cut off her protests. “I’ll take care of it.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a yellowed envelope. “Here.” He held it out to her. Lexi’s heart fell into her shoes. It was the envelope she’d seen in the hairdryer box—the one with Buddy’s love poems. She recognized the red heart on the flap. She couldn’t help herself. The tears spilled over. “Buddy. No,” she whispered. Buddy put it in her hand and curled her fingers around it. He gave her a wry smile. “I wondered if you’d found it. I guess now I know.” 228

Locking Horns “I’m sorry,” Lexi sobbed. “I didn’t mean to pry. I was looking for your hairdryer.” “It’s okay.” He cradled her face in his hands and wiped at her tears with his thumbs. “It’s okay.” He pulled her against his chest and Lexi buried herself in his embrace. How was she ever going to go on? How could she not? Buddy was sending her on her way. She had to pull herself together and walk away with a little dignity. She wanted to tell Buddy she loved him. But the words stuck in her throat. If she said them, she couldn’t take them back. **** Buddy drove down Interstate 95, his heart full of anguish. His chest was so constricted, he couldn’t understand how he was still breathing. It tore him apart to see Lexi cry, to know he’d made her cry. But he knew he was right. The longer they let this thing drag on, the harder it would be. Eventually, the pain would dull, the raw edge would callus over and his heart might mend. He doubted it. What had been a foolish, teen-age crush had become full blown love. A love he knew could never be in the first place. It was his own fault he’d let it get so out of hand. When he realized Eddie Ruckenbeak had sent Lexi Cunningham for community service, he should have turned it down. Instead, he’d barged ahead like he was the man of steel. Like he was Superman, impervious to hurt. In the end, he’d hurt her, too. That was the last thing he wanted to do—hurt Lexi. “You’re a God damned bastard, Buddy Beckett,” he muttered. He glanced over at his duffel bag. He’d brought a change of clothes thinking—no hoping—that Lexi would invite him to stay. In the end, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lie in her bed, enjoy her pleasure, and know that was all they’d ever share. She must feel something for him. After all, she’d cried. But then, women cried for all sorts of reasons. Could he have read her wrong? He didn’t think so. She was emotionally involved. But like her father, it didn’t matter in the end what she felt for him. She had her 229

M. K. Trent dreams to follow and they were in Philadelphia, not in Charles Town. Was that so unlike him? Probably not. After all, he’d turned down the teaching job without really considering it. His life was in Charles Town, not anywhere else. So when it came down to it, he and Lexi weren’t so much different from each other. He’d thought so often enough in high school. Funny, how he’d been right. A lot of the things he’d thought in high school had turned out to be true. Like, if he ever got the chance to make love to Lexi, he’d never want to make love to another woman. How could he touch somebody else in the same way, give himself intimately like he’d given himself to her? His heart ached more as each mile passed. He almost turned around and went back. But that wouldn’t solve the problem, only make it more complicated. By the time he pulled into his driveway, the empty hole inside him had deepened to a black chasm that threatened to suck him under. **** Lexi lay in bed and stared out the window at the blinking lights, listening to the sounds of the harbor night. She looked at the envelope of poems on her coverlet. She hadn’t opened it. After all, she’d read all the poems. Hadn’t she? She wiped at her tear-reddened eyes with a tissue and blew her nose for the umpteenth time. How miserable could one woman be? Reaching over, she turned on her bedside lamp, scooted up in bed, and reached for the envelope. She touched it reverently. After all, Buddy had poured his heart out to her and it was all inside this one small package. She opened it, dropping the contents onto her bed. She separated out the pictures from high school. One by one, she opened the slips of paper, reading each poem again. She found five new ones. Buddy had written new poems for her since she’d been back. It made her cry harder, knowing he loved her even now. Even after everything she’d done to him, Buddy Beckett still loved 230

Locking Horns her. Goodbye Who would have thought that now, when spring has touched the earth, my heart would ache like this? Goodbyes should be left for winter, when wind rattles through trees like dry bones leaves rot under foot and snow blankets the world with cold. I knew goodbye would come. You, a butterfly with iridescent wings, must fly. And me— a tree with roots so deep, to wrench them from the ground would uproot my very soul. Goodbye. So complicated. So incomprehensible. So final. Goodbye. B. Beckett Lexi thought her heart was already broken. But Buddy’s last few words left it torn and bleeding. How could she leave someone behind that meant the entire world to her? And for what? A job? Lexi ran her finger over the finely penned words as if touching them would bring her solace. Instead, it just brought more pain. She wanted a life with Buddy—a life in West Virginia, with her father close by, with Patty and her piglet, with Harlan and Charlene and all Buddy’s family surrounding them with love. She threw her covers off and ran to the window. Pulling the curtains back, she hollered into the night. 231

M. K. Trent “Buddy Beckett, I love you.” **** Buddy wrestled with Randy—pushed, shoved, and cajoled. After an hour, the calf still refused to go into the trailer. “Hold up, Beav,” he said. “Let me find some incentive for him.” He walked to the willow tree in the front yard, pulled out his jackknife, and cut a long switch. “Now try,” he said when he returned. “You pull and I’ll swat him from behind.” “Boss, can we switch places? My arms have about had it.” Buddy removed his hat, wiped the sweat from his brow, and planted the hat back on his head. He looked toward Beaver, lounging in the shaded front of the trailer. “Fine. You swat him, I’ll pull.” He took the rope from Beaver and handed him the switch. “Just sting him a little on his hind legs. If we can get him dancing, maybe he’ll dance right on up.” “Yeah, right,” Beaver replied. “He’ll probably just dance on my feet.” “Well, if we don’t get him in pretty soon, we might as well give it up this week. We’ll never get him to the auction in time.” “Yeah and he’ll spend the next week thinkin’ up new ways to not go next time,” Beaver lamented. “Knowing this little hard head, you’re probably right.” Buddy stood in the front of the trailer, braced himself and hollered, “Now.” Beaver swatted toward Randy’s rump, getting him good on his backside. Randy bellowed in surprise and bolted forward. The rope slacked and Buddy fell on his butt. Randy clamored into the trailer, lowered his head, and gave Buddy a good hit in his thigh. Buddy heard the tailgate slam and slithered out of the side door headfirst into the dirt of the cattle yard. He rolled over and found himself staring at ten, rednailed toes poking out the front of a pair of girly-sandals. He looked up at Lexi grinning down at him. “Looks like that little calf nearly ran you down, cowboy,” she drawled. Buddy got to his feet, picked up his hat, and whacked 232

Locking Horns it on his thigh. He slammed it on his head before he dusted his hands on his chaps. “I swear, woman. You pick the worst times to show up. I bet I smell as bad as Randy.” Lexi wrinkled her nose. “Worse.” “So, what brings you to West-By-God-Nowhere? Eddie figure out I lied about your hours?” “I sure as hell hope not,” Lexi answered. “I, uh....” She glanced at Beaver, who was standing at the rear of the trailer, mouth agape as he stared at the two of them. “Beav, why don’t you go kill a few flies in the barn?” Buddy said. “Boss, there’s enough flies in there to pick up a fullgrown steer.” “Yeah, I know.” Beaver shrugged. “Whatever you say, Boss. You ought to get one of those electric bug-zappers. It’d work a whole lot better than me and a fly-swatter.” He headed resolutely toward the barn. “How many you suppose he’ll kill before he figures out I was kidding?” Lexi giggled. “Probably the whole barn full.” “So.” Buddy eyed Lexi who fidgeted at his side. “You were saying?” “I, uh....I just wondered, um, how you’re doing.” “Could be better,” he replied, rubbing his bruised leg. “Could be worse, too.” Lexi nodded. “About that property....” Buddy shook his head. “Somebody bought it. Merle said he didn’t sell to the developer. Sold to somebody local. He said I’d get a call from him once the deal was finalized. Said the fellow didn’t want to see the land developed. I guess I can count my blessings on that, at least for now.” Lexi nodded again. It looked like she was struggling not to smile. The corners of her mouth kept twitching. Suddenly, she blurted out, “I wrote you a poem.” “You did, huh?” He leaned against the truck bed and folded his arms. “Didn’t know you were a poet.” “Well, I’m probably not.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, wrinkled piece of paper. “It’s called, um, Confessions of a Dumb Ass Personal Trainer.” 233

M. K. Trent Buddy couldn’t help but smile. “I’m listening.” Lexi took a deep breath, stared at the paper in her trembling hands and started reading. “I can’t sleep at night because my bed is so lonely. I can’t eat mostly because I’m a lousy cook. I can’t look at a steak without thinking of Randy. I can’t smell exhaust fumes without thinking of sweet country perfume—cow shit. I can’t breathe and my heart aches. I realized when you left that I’m such an ass and I had screwed up my life and I couldn’t move to Philadelphia because it wasn’t home and it never would be and I didn’t want the stupid job anyway I just thought I did and what I really want is in West-by-God-Virginia and I hope you can forgive me for being so dumb and for going away and for not telling you that I love you and....” She looked up at him. “I came back to ask you to marry me.” Buddy had to fight to keep a grin from ripping his face in two. “You got all that on one tiny piece of paper?” Lexi let out a shaky breath. “Not exactly.” “Hmmmmm. Are you planning a career in shitshoveling?” “Not full-time. I got a personal trainer position with the Spa and Gym in the new hotel over at the track. Dad had some connections and got me an interview. I start next week.” “You sure this is what you want?” Buddy asked softly. He needed to make sure Lexi had no reservations before he let his heart go wild. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” Buddy finally let loose and grinned. “Aren’t you supposed to get down on your knee when you propose?” Lexi let go an exasperated huff. “I could, but there’s Randy crap all over. I might shovel a little of it, but I refuse to kneel in it.” “I guess that would be kind of un-romantic, huh?” 234

Locking Horns “Definitely.” Just then, Randy meandered out the side door of the trailer. “Maaawwww.” He rubbed his head against Lexi’s hip, reached up, and snatched the paper out of her hand. In one swipe of his tongue, he had it in his mouth and was chewing contentedly on it. “You old piece of veal. That’s my prize poem you’re eating.” Buddy chuckled. “I’m not much of a poetry critic. But I have to admit, I really liked the last couple of lines.” He reached out, pulled her against him and buried his face in her hair. “I’ve missed you more than pigs miss mud,” he whispered. He liked her breathy chuckle that tickled his ear. Randy butted his head between them. “Go away, you pest. I’m about to kiss this woman and you’re making it more than a little difficult.” He shoved Randy away. Lexi looked over at the trailer. “Where were you going with him?” “He was about to be auctioned off. But now, he can be a wedding present from me to you.” Lexi snuggled her hips against Buddy’s, giving him a demure look. “I take it you’re accepting my proposal, Mr. Beckett.” “I reckon I am, Miss Cunningham.” “I come with a dowry you know. Fifty acres of prime development land.” Buddy couldn’t believe his ears. “You bought Merle’s land?” “No. Dad bought it. I overheard him finalize the deal with Souder yesterday. He told me if you agree to take me off his hands, he’ll give us the property.” “Hmmmm. Property, pain-in-the-ass. Property, painin-the-ass,” he mused. “Guess they come hand-in-hand, huh?” Lexi bashed him on his shoulder. “Shut up and kiss me, Harlan.” Buddy laughed. “You asked for it, woman.” He started one long, hot kiss before Randy intervened again, his head squeezing between them. “Damn you, little beast.” “Hey, boss. I can’t find the fly-swatter,” Beaver 235

M. K. Trent hollered from the barn door. Buddy leaned his forehead against Lexi’s and they both broke into laughter. “Come on, woman. Let’s go find some privacy.” **** “Bubby! Momma look. Bubby’s here.” Patty came crashing out the door, flour on her hands and ponytail flying. Charlene was right behind her, wiping her hands on her apron. “Miss Lex. Miss Lex. Bubby brought Miss Lex.” Patty flung her arms around Lexi, leaving two big white handprints on her butt. “I love you Miss Lex.” “I love you too, sweetheart.” “Are you here to marry Bubby?” Patty asked, her face aglow. “As a matter-of-fact, she is,” Buddy answered. “Oh, my. Oh, goodness.” Charlene threw her arms around Lexi, then Buddy. “Harlan? Harlan?” she hollered. “Go wring that fat hen’s neck.” “Huh? I thought we were savin’ that one for Granny’s birthday,” Harlan said as he came around the house. When he saw Buddy and Lexi, his face lit up. “Well, hey you two.” “Bubby’s marryin’ Miss Lex, Daddy. We gotta have chicken.” “Well, I’ll be. Forget the damned chicken. Let’s have champagne.” He pulled the two of them into a big bear hug. “The phone wire’s gonna burn up tonight.” Patty chimed in again. “Bubby and Miss Lex are gonna have lotsa babies.” She clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait.” Buddy laced his fingers with Lexi’s and the two of them grinned. Lexi leaned against Buddy and whispered in his ear, “Patty always knows.”

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A word about the author… Okay—do you want to know all the things I used to be? Mop girl at McDonald's-do you want fries with that? Emergency Medical Technician before automated external defibrillators. Emergency dispatcher before 911 was universal. Only woman on a jobsite of 300 construction guys (face it girls-they don't all have teeth and great abs!). Dorothy from Kansas—well, my dog was named Bobo, not Toto, but I did come from Kansas. When my house landed on the wicked witch of the west, I came east. That was 1972. I love slime lime green fingernail polish and kicking up my heels to Bluegrass music. I live in Maryland in the mountains near Camp David with my yodeling beagledog, Barney. My favorite neighbors are Amanda Sue, Tilly, Oreo, Nilly-Vanilly and Queen Latifah. They're cows, but who's counting? My muses have been with me forever—sorry Mr. Hirsch. If it looked like I was daydreaming during algebra class—I was. It never occurred to me to write about those special guys way back then. But now, I've placed them in romantic comedy situations and let them have full reign. If you want to know about tomato horn worms and snakes, don't ask me. I just shudder and make weird faces. I can tell you how a grandson can melt your heart or how a daughter graduating from college after ten long years of night school can make tears of pride well in your eyes. And over the last fifty odd years, I have learned about the endurance of friendship and the power of love. And that's what it's all about—right?