it’s such an eyesore next to your lovely home.”
She glanced at her rhinestone-covered blue jean jacket, which sparkled and flashed in the light, like her teeth and blond hair. Deenie was all-over perfection, a showgirl.
Michael wistfully thought about Bailey’s warmth and caring. If the two women’s lives were reversed, Bailey would be thinking about how she could do something to help Deenie, not put her down because of her lack of money. But Deenie had always been attracted to that which counted on the surface, which looked great on the outside. He supposed most folks were. Which made Bailey all the more special. He admired her for taking on the responsibilities of a brother who wasn’t cut out for being head of a family and for shouldering the burden of overseeing such a large household. It had to be harder than anything he was doing, Michael thought with some discomfort.
“Go easy on Bailey, Deenie. She’s had it rough since her mom and dad died.”
“She’s had it rough all her life.” Deenie shook her head. “I feel sorry for her. But you’ve got to admit, Michael, Bailey brings a lot of her misery on herself.”
He frowned. “How’s that?”
“Well, she’d have a man by now if she’d do something with herself!” Deenie exclaimed. “Then she wouldn’t be living hand to mouth like side-of-the-road trash, would she?”
“I don’t think Bailey’s the type of woman who would look around for a man to solve her problems.”
“I didn’t say that, Michael, I said she’d have one by now and all her problems would be solved!” Deenie looked at him like he was nuts. “Bailey’s too stubborn to try, though. I told her in high school if she’d put that straggly blond hair up on her head, or even cut a few inches off of it, it would look so much nicer around her face. Give her a little glamour. Do you know what she told me?”
Michael couldn’t wait to hear. “What?”
“That she liked her hair just fine!” Deenie was outraged. “Have you ever heard the like? Who wants hair hanging down to their waist and flat as a price tag at Neiman Marcus? It’s all fine for high school, but she’s got to be nearly twenty-six now, and she still won’t do anything with herself.”
Michael suppressed the smile that leaped to his lips. Deenie probably spent more in a month on hair spray and lipstick than Bailey spent all year on food. Truth was, he liked Bailey’s clean skin and long, soft hair. It teased the top of her fanny when she was naked, it framed her face when she was asleep, far more glamorous than Deenie’s hard-packed big hair, which probably wouldn’t even move on a pillow. As for glamour, well, Bailey looked like she belonged in a Victoria’s Secret photo shoot, as far as he was concerned.
“Now the length of her dress was better tonight, short and fashionable,” Deenie continued, “but the only reason it was so short was because it was shrunk. It’s been washed a thousand times. That was the same navy dress her mother used to wear to pick the kids up from school. Only now it’s powder blue from fading.”
“Deenie,” Michael said abruptly, “you ought to set your sights on Gunner King.”
“Gunner!” Deenie stared at him. “Why, hon?” She ran her gaze over his shoulders hungrily. “He’s not nearly as sexy as you are.”
“Got a lot more money,” Michael stated ever so casually. He didn’t know if that was true, but a glance outside the window revealed Chili on his way over the fence. If he could send Deenie packing, he might have time to pick the cowboys’ brains about Bailey.
“More money?” Deenie echoed. “How do you know?”
“Oh, his father made a killing in some oil well down south before he died.” Michael shrugged. “Heard they made so much money on it that they were thinking about buying a winter home in Rio.” He paused as Deenie’s eyes dilated. “Of course, that wouldn’t do Gunner any good now. No fun to vacation alone.”
“Rio!” Deenie exclaimed. “Oh, my goodness, would you look at the time? I’d better be going.” She snatched up her pie, examining it carefully. “It doesn’t look like somebody took a bite out of it,” she said under her breath. “It just looks like the crust caved in a little.” Turning toward the door, she gave Michael her best Rodeo Queen smile. “Call me sometime, sugar.”
She was gone in a flash of expensive perfume. Michael shuddered. It was almost cruel to sic Deenie on his rival, but Gunner no doubt would somehow return the favor one day.
“Two of a kind,” he muttered. Striding down the long hall toward the enormous TV room, he saw Chili and Curly helping Fred to his feet.
“I’ll drive him home,” Michael said. “He doesn’t need to be walking down to the bungalow.”
“Thanks, Michael.” Chili glanced at him. “Where’s the wasp?”
“What wasp?”
“The skinny, stinging female with her feelers out.” Chili shot him a disgruntled look.
“Oh, Deenie. Gone off to build her nest somewhere else, I hope.” Michael moved the two cowboys aside and put his arm under Fred’s for support. “Slow and careful, Fred.”
He fit his pace to the older man’s. “Are you sure you don’t want me to run you down to the quack shack? Maybe you ought to have a doc look at it.”
There was some swelling of Fred’s toes, but the cowboy gamely shook his head. “Nope. Bailey didn’t mention I oughta go, so I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Maybe Bailey isn’t a doctor.”
“Maybe Bailey’s just as good as that quack in town,” Fred shot back. “She’s been coping with kiddie emergencies since she was old enough to help Polly out.”
It was a bit of a raw spot with Michael. When his mother left, the cowboys began slinking over to Polly’s whenever they had something that needed more tending than they could handle. Polly Dixon had a never-ending supply of ointment, bandages, good humor and compassion. “Doc Watson’s a fine doctor. And Deenie was right. You’re crybabies,” he said, helping Fred into the truck bed. “You just want your ouchies kissed.”
“Damn right,” Fred shot back, “and if you was smart, son, you’d let Bailey kiss yours.”
The cowboys murmured their agreement. Michael hesitated. Then he decided he didn’t want to know whatever was going around in their white-thatched heads. “You fellows don’t have enough to do,” he said crustily. “Tomorrow I want you to check every inch of the fence and make sure it’s secure.” He gave them all a baleful glare. “Particularly the area around the Dixon pond. I don’t want any of my cattle getting mixed in with Gunner’s or getting spooked by the Dixon sheep.”
The large pond was the only valuable thing the Dixons owned. It lay in a liquid, undulating circle at the top of their property. It was the only nearby water source, and both Sherman King and Michael Wade Senior had eyed it for their cattle. Because Elijah said he couldn’t trust either of the feuding ranchers to behave like gentlemen, he’d allowed them both the use of it, but insisted that they each run a separate fence divider through the portion he allotted them. Therefore the pond was evenly split three ways. He charged the ranchers a yearly fee for the use, a pittance compared to what they’d pay to have city water
