Chasing Arizona

Lonely Eyes

Arizona

According to directions given to me by an ageing cashier at a mom and pop gas station on the edge of town, Caine Hailey lived on the far lip of Pecan Valley and owned a small horse ranch that employed only a few lucky men and women from summer to summer. Kindly, Clyde, a toothless gentleman pushing about eighty-five informed me that the Hailey Stead wasn't hiring, but the small cafe his sister Ethel owned was. Apparently I looked like I was in need of a job. I stuck around for a good hour to converse with the lonesome old man on top of spending nearly a hundred dollars on snacks and basic necessities, plus gas. It didn't seem to me that the One Stop got much business. I promised Clyde that I'd stop by on my way back out of town to say goodbye and he promised, much to my surprise, to have a goodie basket thrown together by his beloved Cynthia for the drive home.

Nibbling on a granola bar as I entered the truck, I pulled up a map on my phone and studied it aimlessly. I was concerned about how welcome I would be once I popped by the place Caine lived. I'd had enough foresight to grab my birth certificate along with a few photos of me and Mama through the years, in case he wanted proof that I was who I said. I had hopes that it wouldn't be necessary but I knew that if I were to be in his position I'd need more than someone's word. As I started the truck and headed in the direction my GPS indicated, I wondered if he had married at all, or if maybe he had other children. Did Texas, Tennessee and I have more siblings? The thought sent a shiver of excitement down my back. What if there were nieces and nephews? This was even more exciting to me. I adored children. I spent every moment I could spoiling the kids that Texas and Tennessee had, I even managed to steer clear from the bar for a few days in order to do a weekend camp with Sunday last summer.

The drive through town was fairly short, no more than fifteen minutes, and while it gave me time to think, it also built my nerves back up. I was a mess by the time I made it to the gates of the ranch. Much to my astonishment, the place wasn't adorned with "CH" logos everywhere.

No, the brand on the front gate was a flower.

A lily.

*

There were two things I was fairly good at in life. One was drinking and the other, well that was running - from my problems that is. Mama used to tease that I was born with tennis shoes on and as I got older, I had started to believe that she was right. I couldn't look back on a single moment in my life and recall where I faced my issues head on. Burying my head in the sand was my preferred method.

And I'd chosen to run instead of facing Caine Haily at Lily Ranch.

Seeing the flower on the face of the gate, her name written across the arch above the opening, it was all too much. Why? Because I knew it meant something. It meant that Caine Hailey hadn't let go of my mother.

I was going to have to reveal the truth to him if he didn't already know. And that terrified me beyond belief.

Instead of facing that reality I'd searched for the closest bar and found myself parked under the blinking light of a neon sign as the sun began to set. My heart rate was finally slowing from the quick thrum it had been before and I knew it was because of the bar. The bar was familiar, not that I'd ever been to this specific one before but any bar was familiar. Booze and people trying to get into each other's pants, maybe an occasional brawl or brash of bikers coming in for a few drinks. 

I made my way to the door, making sure to grab a few ones in case there was a cover. The music seemed to be the new age country and from what I could tell, this place was going to be filled with mostly wannabe college age cowfolk, all dressed in designer never-walked-on-a-cow-patty-before boots and three hundred dollar blue jeans if the crowd trickling in the doors was any indication. We had a few places similar to this in Red Mire, though they were near the outskirts. As long as they at least played music and served their drinks cold, I wasn't going to walk away. 

Six shots and three mixed drinks later, the dinky little bar was starting to look like the best place in the world and I was wondering if I shouldn't give Chance the overly flirtatious bartender a try for the night. My good sense was screaming a big fat 'no' at me, but it seemed to be slurring a bit and mixing up words as well. I couldn't trust that now could I? I was about to order another shot when  the bar stool next to mine scraped the floor and a wide brimmed stetson caught my eye. 

O, Holy Night was he handsome. Nearly black hair that was neatly trimmed, light facial hair brushed across the thickest, strongest jaw bone I'd ever had the fortune of laying eyes on. His eyes were a light blue, almost translucent and seemed to taken in everything around him. From his seated position I couldn't tell his height, but I'd be willing to bed that he was a good foot taller, even with me being five-five, and he was thick with muscle. He was a bit more rugged than my usual type, but I was more than willing to make an exception. His eyes danced around the bar for a few minutes, not meeting mine until a beer rested in the palm of his hand. 

All it took was a flash of a smile for my heart to race -- an unfamiliar reaction to an attractive man for me, but something was telling me that he wasn't the kind of man I was used to at all. I flashed an uneven smile, hoping he couldn't see my nerves, and introduced myself as confidently as possible while sticking my hand out in greeting. The moment his skin met mine my stomach dropped and the heady rush I felt before disappeared almost completely. 

"I'm Rhett, miss Arizona, and it's damn nice to be in the presence of a beautiful woman tonight."