Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(69)

Callie’s hands started to sweat. She’d had a small car that was paid for, but since it was traceable, the government told her it would be best if she sold it. She got a mere two thousand dollars for it. It was in her cash bag at the ranch, but there wasn’t a dependable van out there for that kind of money.

“Before we do anything else, we’re going to that car dealership across the road and I’m buying a van. A brand-spanking-new one that will seat seven people and has a good amount of space in the rear end for Christmas packages,” Verdie announced.

“But,” Callie gasped.

“I’ve got more money right now than I could burn through in what’s left of my life. I want a van and I’m having one, so I’ll hear no arguments. I just hope that we can get it all done pretty quick. I’ve got lots more shopping to do, and the kids get home from school at four,” Verdie said.

“That’s impulsive,” Callie said when she could catch her breath.

“No, it’s necessary. That way you can drive me back down to Dallas to get my things when I move out of the funny farm. I’ll still drive in Burnt Boot and Gainesville and even Denton, but I will not fight the damn Dallas traffic.”

“What’s necessary?” Finn tossed a pair of black rubber boots with bright pink hearts on them into Callie’s lap. “They aren’t cowboy boots, so don’t hang me from the nearest scrub oak with a moldy old rope. They’ll keep your feet dry when you help me with morning chores.”

Hearts. They had hearts on them. That’s one of those subliminal messages for sure.

“Thank you,” she said. “I love them, Finn. I really do.”

“Good. Now where to next?”

“Verdie says we’re going across the street to the car dealership.” Callie hugged the boots to her chest.

“I’m buying a van. Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve got the money, and I want a red one. I don’t give a shit if it’s a Ford or a Cadillac as long as all my kids can ride comfortably in it and it’s an automatic shift. I’m too damn old to drive a stick,” she declared.

“Yes, ma’am,” Finn said.

Callie shot a look at him across the console.

He reached across and patted her on the cheek. “Like you said, darlin’. You can’t fight city hall.”

Verdie couldn’t find a red one, so she settled on a black one that had all the bells and whistles. While she completed the paperwork and Finn talked to one of the salesmen about a new truck he intended to buy before the end of the year, Callie wandered through the showroom.

“Can’t a woman go anywhere without running into you?” Betsy asked from the other side of a brand-new red truck.

“It’s a small world,” Callie said.

“Well, shit! What are you doing here?” Honey said.

“Lookin’ at vehicles,” Callie said.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Honey smarted off.

“Good,” Callie said and kept walking.

“Where’s Finn?” Honey asked.

“It’s not my day to watch him,” Callie threw over her shoulder.

Lord, love a freakin’ duck! The feud followed her around worse than Pistol.

Honey’s high-heeled boots made a clicking sound on the shiny tile floor when she spotted Finn outside. Not to be outdone, Betsy beat her to the door and was plastered up against Finn’s side before Honey could get to him.

Callie leaned against the fender of a brand-new Caddy and wished she could read lips. She’d had a dustup, as Verdie called it, with each of those bitches. It was Finn’s turn to put them in their place. He did a speedy good job, because in less than a minute, they were all up in each other’s faces. The poor salesman tried to talk sense to them right up until Honey blackened his eye and then grabbed Betsy by the hair.

Someone must have called Orville, because he showed up pretty quick, and between him and the salesman, they dragged the two women apart. Honey was screaming something about burning Wild Horse down, and Betsy wasn’t making any bones about what she intended to do to River Bend.

Verdie came out of the office with keys dangling from her hand and saw what was going on. “Where’s Finn?”

“He was out there, and then he left. I reckon he’s sitting in his truck waiting on us to plow through that bloody field,” Callie said.

“You reckon you ought to teach them all a survival course before they do something other than pullin’ hair and scratchin’?” Verdie laughed.

“How much you reckon they’d pay?” Callie hooked her arm through Verdie’s, and they went out a side door, leaving Orville with the mess.

***

Three boys and one little blond-haired girl brought home worried expressions on their faces that afternoon. They went straight to their rooms without stopping, put their backpacks away, and filed out with big eyes. Martin was the first one to the kitchen, where Finn was sitting at the table and Callie was busy pouring hot chocolate into cups.

“They were wrong, weren’t they, Callie?” His voice quivered and only his thick black lashes held the tears at bay. “They ain’t goin’ to let us keep the kids, are they? We done saw the van in the yard. Where are they, anyway?”

“That’s my new van.” Verdie brought a platter of homemade ginger cookies from the pantry. “I wanted a red one, but they said it would take four weeks to get it, and we needed it now, so I had to buy a black one.”