скачать книгу бесплатно
Manny then was curious. “What did you have on for tonight that I can help you with?”
And Stefan gave that woman’s excuse that covered everything, “I gotta wash my hair.”
Manny laughed until he got the hiccups.
Stefan watched stony faced and unamused.
Hiccuping, Manny stood grinning, but with some empathy, he said, “When there was something I had to do that I didn’t want to do, my mother always told me, ‘It’ll grow hair on your chest.’ I did more terrible, demanded things than I can count, and look —” he unbuttoned two buttons “ —no hair. She lied.”
With infinite worldly wisdom, Stefan explained, “It was a figure of speech. She meant the discipline would make a man of you. You need more discipline to reach that goal. Go to Kirt’s tonight.”
Manny shook a sorrowful head as he said, “God, I’m sure sorry, but I have to go to a funeral.”
Stefan narrowed his eyes, his brain going over the obituary columns of the area newspapers in the past week. “Who?”
Gesturing with grandiosity, Manny said, “You, if you interfere with my plans tonight.” And he left.
* * *
To go to the Overmanns’, Stefan didn’t shower. He didn’t wear his regular clothing. He stripped naked and pulled on some smelly, sweat-and-grease-stained coveralls. He wiped his face and hands with a grease rag. He went in the utility Jeep to Kirt’s house on land outside Blink.
He was completely confident that he was safe from being invited into the Overmann house. But dirty, in those grease-stained coveralls and wearing that golden earring, he looked like a potentially dangerous pirate.
The Overmann girls all came out and laughed and flirted while Stefan soberly switched and rearranged wires and connections which had been...switched and rearranged. He didn’t make any comment at all about the mess. He just...fixed it back.
Amid the friendly dogs, there was that passel of charming young women, the expansive daddy and the singleton guest named Carrie Pierce. She watched him with almost closed eyes and said nothing at all. She irritated the very hell out of him.
She had on red nail polish. It was daytime. It was too early for her to’ve gotten dressed for a date. She wore pink polish in the daytime and wore red at night. How come it was daytime and she had on red nail polish?
She had a date that night? Who was he? It wasn’t any of Stefan’s business. She was a discard. She could go out with any yahoo she wanted to tussle. It was none of his business.
Kirt’s wife hollered from the porch, “Get your hands washed, it’s about time to eat!”
And Kirt said, “Peel off them coveralls and come on inside. You can finish that up later.”
But Stefan had anticipated that very demand and managed a reasonable hesitancy as he looked at the grinning daughters. Helen, Alice and Trisha. Under his breath, Stefan said just for the daddy, “I don’t have on nothing else?” That was the TEXAS questioning statement. “This is almost done and — “
In a carrying voice, Kirt exclaimed to the whole community and surrounding area, “You mean to tell me you’re nekkid?”
And a genuine blush took over Stefan’s face.
The girls giggled, putting their hands to their faces and exchanging laughing glances, but Carrie just watched.
Kirt then said, “No problem. I’ve got some things you can borrow.”
Still working on the mixed-up connections, Stefan next tried a verbal rejection, “I had a late lunch.”
“Then you can sit with us for dessert.”
Stefan’s eyes went reluctantly to see how Carrie was taking all this, and he met her unsympathetic regard. How like her to be aloof when a man was in trouble. No heart. No compassion. No sliver of concern in that icy heart of hers.
He was lucky her strawberry hair hadn’t ensnared him. She’d let a man go to the guillotine and never bat those heavily lashed eyelids. She was a mean woman, and he’d made a lucky escape when he’d shunned her.
Then to indicate an unarguable defense, Stefan looked at his cast-off, greasy shoes and shook his head once. “I got to stay outside. Thanks, anyway.”
And one of Kirt’s pushy daughters said, “We’ll all come outside. We’ll sit on the porch.” And she went to the house to tell her mother.
So her mother hollered for the other girls to come in to help move the meal outside.
Stefan warned them, “It’s gonna rain.”
And the daughters laughed. “The porch is big enough. You can sit in the rain and get cleaned off.”
Snippy. He sorted the daughters out and that one was Helen. He grinned and glanced aside to find Carrie’s eyes weighing him.
Why would she do that?
He told that slender, nothing woman with all that blond-red hair, “You’d better get inside. Rain’ll melt you.”
And wouldn’t you know, she had a reply, right away. She said, “I’m not made of sugar.”
He was back inside the Jeep’s engine, but he did hear her. He mumbled, “I can’t argue that.”
She asked, “What?”
“I said, ‘None of the tires is flat.’” But he pulled his head out of the engine to look at her to see if she believed him, and she laughed.
Those damned brown eyes of hers had all sorts of sparkles in them before those lashes dropped down and hid it all. Asinine woman.
It was Kirt who told Carrie, “Hadn’t you better get on home before the storm hits?”
“I was invited to dinner before Stefan got here. If there isn’t enough to include us both, he can leave.”
Stefan relaxed. “Yeah.”
“Or he can follow me home, to be sure I get there in this wild and woolly storm that’s going to spray us with a few sprinkles.”
Kirt narrowed his eyes and considered her.
Stefan said, “With the storm coming, you probably ought to get on home. I’ll follow you and come back tomorrow and finish this up.”
Kirt broke in. “No. You stay. We promised you dessert. You can’t wiggle out of that. We’re having Mildred’s pe-can pie.”
Stefan groused, “No! Good thing I’ve already eaten. Her pie is so good I’ll have to have two pieces.”
The father put in, “The girls all can make that pie. They’re good cooks.”
Stefan thought what a touter Kirt was. He’d get those girls married off —but not to Stefan. He went back to working on rescuing the tangled connections.
Kirt said, “Give it up for now. It’s about to rain.”
“I don’t have much more to do. I’ll get it done. Go ahead. I’ll be quick. Carrie, you hold the flashlight.”
Kirt said, “No. I will.”
Stefan countered, “You need to clean up a little before you go inside Mildred’s pristine house. You know that for a fact.”
And Kirt knew it. “We’ll fix you a place. Come along, Carrie.”
But Stefan told Kirt, “She’s gotta hold the flashlight.”
There was nothing Kirt could do about that. He had to go inside. His daughters were all inside the house, helping their mother. Carrie was the only one left outside to hold the light for Stefan. Damn!
Kirt gave Carrie’s slender body a look and was reassured. It was just her hair. Nothing else on her could lure a man, and he knew that Stefan was immune to her. So he turned away. “Don’t be long.” And Kirt left.
As soon as he was out of earshot, that nasty Carrie giggled.
Stefan chided, “Shame on you.”
“Hush. Don’t say another word, or I’ll leave you here and go on home.”
Stefan groused, “That’s just exactly what you’d think of doing. You’re a witch!”
“You’ve said something like that before.”
“I never!”
She was emphatic, “When I wouldn’t stay the night with you.”
“Shame on you, saying that kind of thing about a nice young man like me.”
“You’re past thirty.” She pointed that out like he hadn’t known such a fact. “You’re supposed to be a responsible man.”
“I’m getting this damned motor rewired. That’s really taking responsibility the hard way.”
She was flippant. “So’s behaving yourself.”
“You weren’t interested.”
She didn’t say anything.
He lifted his head up and looked at her across the engine. “You’re a damned tease.”
She didn’t respond.
“You’re lucky I didn’t wring your neck.”
She was silent.
The rain started gently.
He said, “Go on inside. I can finish this in just a minute.”
The flashlight held steady.
He told her, “You’re going to get wet.”
And her husky, wicked voice replied, “I’ve already told you that I won’t melt.”
“You won’t. You’re hard-hearted and mean. There isn’t anything on this earth that would make you pliant.”
And her laugh was low and soft.
* * *
It wasn’t long before Stefan wiped his hands on his greasy coveralls. He went to the Jeep and slid onto the newspaper Kirt had insisted on putting across the driver’s seat. The Jeep started like it’d never had a problem, and Stefan gave a huge sigh of endurance.
He turned off the ignition, got out of the Jeep and looked at Carrie. He said, “You can turn off the flashlight. We’re through. You’re good help. Thank you.”
She didn’t reply. She just turned off the light and went over to put it in the glove compartment.
The initial rain was gentle. TEXAS rain was just about always like that, so as the ground wouldn’t be too shocked with the coming wetness. Stefan lifted his face to it.
In the dusk’s light rain, Stefan stood in his messed-up coveralls, with that earring and the rifted eyebrow. He looked more like a pirate than ever. Carrie licked her lips.
From the house, Kirt hollered, “Hustle up, you all, we’re just about finished!”
“Coming.” Stefan said the word so they could hear him on the porch, but he was looking at Carrie.
She smiled faintly. She was very alert and her eyes went over him in quick moves.
Stefan closed the Jeep up and wiped his hands on the already greasy rag in his hip pocket. He gestured and said, “Ladies first.”
She lifted her eyebrows slightly and mentioned, “Lady? The last time I heard you refer to me, you called me a cold – – – – –.”
He slid his narrowed eyes over her and replied, “I was being polite.”
She tilted her head and regarded him. “Polite? Then...or now.”
But Kirt hollered, “Hustle up!”
* * *
Sitting under the roof of the overhang by the porch, Stefan ate two quarters of one pie. It was delicious, and Mildred insisted he take the rest of it home. She smiled and told him, “Helen did this one.”
Helen laughed with such humor that Stefan knew the mother lied.
Although the host insisted he’d follow Carrie home to be sure she was safe —in that isolated, pure, staid area —he couldn’t argue when Stefan explained Carrie was going in his direction and her house came first.
