Hot Cowboy Nights (Lucky Penny Ranch #2)(42)

“Well, keep the phone and as soon as that no service thing shuts off, you get in touch with Mama,” Allie said.

The door opened and Toby settled into the seat beside her and fastened his seat belt.

“Don’t reckon there is a place to buy a cup of coffee between here and home is there?” he asked.

“No, but the pot is full and we’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” Blake answered.

“You can drop me off first, right?” Lizzy asked.

“No, you can go home with me,” Allie answered. “I’m making Sunday dinner and Mama will be there soon as church is over.”

“I need a shower.”

“Take one at our place and borrow some of my clothes.”

Toby’s hand covered hers. Words were not needed. He was as relieved as she was to get out of that damn ravine. She looped her little finger over his and squeezed. He smiled but didn’t open his eyes.



Elizabeth Jane Logan had been baptized when she was ten years old. The preacher said that when her head went under the water and he said the words that she would come up a new creature without sin and with a holy spirit. At that age, she expected to rise up with at least a slightly visible halo or maybe the sprouting of some wings, but the only thing different was that her hair was wet. That and the fact that she hadn’t taken time to dry off completely with that hand-size towel they’d given her and her underpants stuck to her butt all during church services that Sunday evening.

She thought of that day as she slid down the back of the claw-foot tub in Allie’s bathroom, getting her hair wet and holding her breath. If she stayed under long enough, would a new improved Lizzy arise when she surfaced?

Pushing against the tub with her feet and pulling on the sides, she brought herself up out of the water and waited. She didn’t expect a halo but it would be nice to have something after that night down there in a ditch. She brushed the water from her eyes and opened them. Peace settled over like she hadn’t known in months.

Lizzy might not have a halo but the very last smidgen of Mitch’s betrayal was gone. In that moment, it wasn’t words but honesty when she said she was finished with that man and the past. The smile that covered her face and the pure joy of no baggage hanging on her heart; well, it damn near made her gravitate to the ceiling. She wanted to hug herself and hang on to the feeling inside as long as possible.

“Hot damn!” she muttered. “I can cuss and I can have a beer and I can do whatever I want. And if I want to have sex I can do that, too. I’m going to love this new Lizzy. If the rest of the world doesn’t, then bring out the fish heads.”

It was one of her granny’s sayings when someone was being a complete jerk. “Screw ’em and feed ’em fish heads,” she’d say. Then after a while she would remark, “Way these fools are acting, I feel a night for boiled fish heads is comin’ on.”

“But not today. Today is not a day for fish heads. It’s a day to rejoice and be glad.” She stood up and shook out two towels. One went around her head, turban-style; the other made a wrap for her body. When she was completely dry, she zipped the worn chenille robe up from the bottom. Her underwear and bra should be in the dryer by now and she could fit into a pair of Allie’s yoga pants and a T-shirt even though she was a couple of inches taller than her sister and a few pounds heavier.

She met Allie coming up the hall with a pair of socks, clean bra, and panties folded on top of an outfit.

“These should make you feel like a brand-new woman,” Allie said. “You already smell better. You can borrow a pair of my rubber boots to wear home. I’m not cleaning the crap off yours for you, not unless you want to clean up the floor or porch when I upchuck. I didn’t have morning sickness that first trimester, but just yesterday scents have started to make my stomach do flips.”

Lizzy took the clothing from her sister. “Please don’t tell me you can’t stand to smell food.”

“Mostly anything spicy like chili and it’s always been my favorite.” Allie sighed.

“Oh, no!” Lizzy hugged her. “Remember when Lucy’s daughter-in-law was pregnant and she couldn’t stand to even smell fish cooking? Granny told her it was because her baby hated fish and sure enough that kid has never liked any kind, not even deep-fried catfish.”

“I don’t care if the baby doesn’t like chili when it gets here, just so long as it doesn’t ruin my love for it. No beer. No chili. This little girl may be an only child.” Allie smiled.

Lizzy gave Allie a quick hug and went back into the bathroom. “I’m going to get dressed and then I’ll help you with dinner. What are we having?”

“Fried chicken, Blake’s favorite,” Allie answered. “Sweet tea is made and coffeepot is full when you get dressed.”

Lizzy left the robe on the hook where she’d found it and smiled when she pulled on her hip-hugging panties because her fanny was fully dry. No sticking to the kitchen chair while she was enjoying her sister’s scrumptious fried chicken.

She had finished brushing her hair when someone knocked on the bathroom door. She slung it open to find Toby standing there, mud covering him from the hips down and splattered all over his shirt. He must’ve taken his boots off at the door because the only clean thing on him was a pair of snow-white socks that looked as out of place as a string of pearls around a sow’s neck.