Page 8 of Make Me Crazy (Loco, Texas 2)

The service went on and on, making Rand squirm. She never had been very good at sitting still, especially when she was on a mission.

Jake’s hand landed on her knee. “Quit fidgeting.”

The warmth of his palm through her jeans sent tingles of awareness up her leg.

Before she could say anything, he removed it, wiping his palm on his own jean clad thigh like there was something on it.

Rand drove to Earl Humphries house after picking up the pre-baked crumb apple pie from her freezer. Earl’s place was a one story ranch house, with trees planted for privacy and several large hounds patrolling the property. Earl didn’t like solicitors knocking at his door and all these things made his home look scary and haunted. When they’d been kids, she’d led Red and Jake over to steal one of Earl’s hens, but he’d caught her hopping the back fence. He’d grabbed her by the scruff and she’d growled, “Let me go, butthead!”

He’d just laughed, which had surprised her more than anything else that followed. He hadn’t bawled her out like she thought he would. He’d taken her back to his house and had her call her father, who didn’t answer. Earl had asked her gruffly if she was hungry, and she’d barked a no at him. He’d made her an egg salad sandwich anyway and asked her questions which she’d refused to answer, although she did eat the sandwich. Afterwards, he’d driven her back to her home and warned her, “Now I catch you stealing again, and I won’t be so nice next time.”

The next day she’d gone out to play and found the red hen she’d tried to steal in a crate on the porch, a sack of feed next to her. Rand had never owned a pet before, and filled with excitement, she’d taken the hen into her room, giving her a bowl of food and water. Pulling out her crayons and some paper, she’d drawn her best picture of herself holding Henny, as she named her, and wrote “Thank you.” at the bottom. She’d run most of the way out to Earl’s place and slipped the picture into his mail slot, only to have the door open.

“What are you doing here?” He’d menaced.

He’d been such a big man to a seven year old, but she’d just stuck her chin out and snapped, “I was just thanking you for my hen.”

“Well, don’t be sneaking around like a burglar. You come to the door proper, and thank me.”

She’d bent down and picked up the picture she’d drawn and handed it to him. “Thank you, sir.”

He’d taken the picture and a ghost of a smile spread over his lips before he’d gruffly said, “I was just about to sit down with a slice of pie. You want to join me?”

That had started many afternoons spent at Earl’s, listening to stories, both true and fishy. When she’d moved out to her granddaddy’s home, it was too far to walk, but her granddaddy had driven her out once a week. If R.E. ever thought it was strange that Earl had taken a shine to his granddaughter, he never said. Earl and R.E. had enjoyed a mutual respect that always consisted of nods and comments about the weather.

The hounds met her as she pulled up, baying at her loudly and pulling her back into the present. She got out of the truck and tossed two bones to them. “Shut up, you obnoxious creatures!”

“Don’t you talk to my dogs like that, missy,” a gravelly voice shouted from the front porch.

Rand grinned up at the ramrod straight man standing on the porch.

“I’ll talk to them any way I want to, old man!” She grabbed the pie and ice cream, hopping up the squeaky steps and kissed his stubbled cheek. “You’re looking as ugly as ever.”

He grunted, rubbing his cheek where she’d kissed him. “And you’re still in need of a caning.”

She laughed as she balanced the grocery bag and held the door open. “Well come on, I want to get this pie in quickly. I’m hungrier than a bear in a berry patch.”

He held the door, shooing her in and she caught the smell of cedar wood and old spice. It was a comforting smell. The smell had always calmed her, like the smell of her granddaddy’s pipe tobacco, or her mother’s perfume.

She closed the door and headed straight to the oven to pre-heat it, before she put the ice cream in the freezer. “I don’t suppose you made lunch?”

“Egg sandwiches in the fridge.”

Rand’s stomach growled and she opened it up quickly, grabbing the plates like a starving woman. She put one in fron

t of him before plopping down in her own chair. “How’re you doing, Earl?”

“Alive and kicking. How’re you? I figure you’re missing your granddaddy pretty bad.” He took a bite of his sandwich and watched her as he chewed.

Her stomach churned as she thought about the will, and said, “Granddaddy left me a stipulation in his will. He wants me to get married in three months or the Double C goes to Percy.”

Earl’s bushy black eyebrows snapped low over his blue eyes and he roared, “That’s dumber than a box of rocks! What’re you need a husband fer? Marriage ain’t nothing but a way for someone else to get ahold of your money and squeeze the life outta ya.”

Rand bit back a smile. “And the trouble of finding someone willing to marry me, move in with me, and stay put for a year.”

He took a bite of the sandwich and griped, “He must have been sniffin’ cow shit too long. Dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. You can’t get out of it?”

Rand shook her head. “Nope. Iron clad and legal as can be. So now I just have to find someone that fits the bill.”

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