Daisies in the Canyon(54)

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not. I’m laughing at that bull on the front porch. I think he’s teaching the cows to two-step,” Cooper said.

“You’re the one who is drunk. Bulls can’t dance.” She hit the “End” button, tossed the phone on the chair, and crawled to the bed, but after three tries she gave up trying to get on the bed. She slept on the floor, covered with the spread she’d pulled off the bed sometime in the night when she got cold.





Chapter Thirteen

Abby’s nose twitched at the smell of bacon and coffee. She opened her eyes slowly, only to focus on the three boxes under her bed.

“Go away, Ezra.” Her mouth felt like someone had made her eat alum.

She pulled the cover over her aching head and shut her eyes. A bull bellowed from right outside her bedroom window and she sat up too fast. The room did a couple of spins, but her stomach did one more past that. She lay back down on the floor, facing away from the boxes. She managed to get to her feet and to the living room, one slow step at a time. Nothing looked like they’d had a wild party the night before, but her head and eyes said otherwise. Shiloh was on the sofa, snoring like a lumberjack, and that rascal of a bull was out there in the yard, calling for his women.

“Calling?” She frowned. Someone had called her on the phone. She remembered thinking it was the bull ringing the doorbell.

“Wake up, ladies.” Bonnie’s voice rang through the kitchen and out into the living room.

Abby cut her eyes around to the sofa, where Shiloh was sprawled out as much as its narrowness allowed. One arm dangled toward the floor. She’d die right there if she could see that granddaddy longlegs spider not six inches from her fingertips.

Bonnie flipped on the light.

Shiloh raised her head, dark hair completely covering her face. She plopped back down with a moan. “Shit! There’s a drum playin’ in my head.”

“That’s called a hangover. I had a headache this morning from just sipping that shit and a little whiskey. I can’t imagine what you two are feeling, but I’ve got the cure. Sit up and take your medicine, ladies,” Bonnie said.

“If I ever look at moonshine again, shoot me,” Abby said.

Bonnie shoved a spoonful of something toward her mouth and she opened up.

“Honey?” Abby asked. “What good is that shit?”

“You will be surprised. Your turn, Shiloh.” Bonnie stepped on the spider and didn’t even mention it when she refilled the same spoon and made Shiloh eat the honey.

“It’s not working,” Abby whined.

“That’s because it’s step one. The next step is strong black coffee and then you are eating eggs. Whatever that shit is in eggs helps break down the alcohol. And after that you will each eat a banana,” Bonnie said.

“Not me. I’m going to crawl to the bathroom and pee and then I’m going to bed,” Shiloh said.

Bonnie raised her voice. “We’ve got chores to do and then we are going to church.”

Abby covered her ears. “Don’t yell anymore. I don’t want to smell pig shit and hear a preacher yell at me. It’s all Ezra’s fault. He shouldn’t have died before he used up all that moonshine.”

Bonnie pulled the covers from Shiloh and tapped Abby on the shoulder. “If you don’t both get on your feet, I will start singing at the top of my lungs, and believe me, I cannot carry a tune. So on your feet and to the table for coffee. When that’s in your stomach, you’ll have scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. Then a banana. After that you could whip a whole passel of grizzly bears.”

“How’d you get so damn smart about hangovers?” Abby held her head all the way to the kitchen, where she melted into a chair and laid her face on the cool wood table.

“When I was about thirteen, I got tired of dealin’ with Mama, so I went to the library and looked up cures for hangovers and toyed with them until I found one that worked. We might not have had money for a hamburger, but I saw to it there was always honey, coffee, eggs, and bananas in the house,” Bonnie said.

“I will puke if I eat a slimy banana,” Shiloh said.

“No, you won’t. Here’s the coffee and two aspirin for each of you. I’ll get the eggs ready.”

“You are not my boss. I’m not going to church,” Shiloh said.

“Yes, you are, because afterward we are going to Amarillo for dinner, shopping, and maybe even a trip to the Walmart beauty shop for our hair and a mani-pedi, if they have them. Believe me, by the time church is over, you are going to be ravenous. And would you look at your fingernails? Waylon won’t look twice at you with fingernails like that. And Abby, Cooper is not going to bed with a woman who has straw for hair,” Bonnie said.

Abby popped the pills in her mouth and washed them down with coffee. “Now she thinks she’s our damn therapist.”

Shiloh’s chin quivered. “Are my nails really that bad?”

Abby leaned back to get a better look and nodded. “They are.”

Shiloh’s hands went up to cover her eyes. “Well, your hair looks like hell.”

“No fighting this morning. Eat and then we’re doing our ranchin’ business and then we’re going to Amarillo. Besides I’ve never had the money to blow on a mani-pedi and I want one,” Bonnie said.