They swung the last steer onto the truck bed. Both of them whisked their hands together, then removed their heavy work gloves.
“Yer daddy liked Charmaine, too.”
Mon Dieu! He never lets up. “I guess so,” Raoul said. “He gave her half the ranch.”
Clarence waved his hand in the air, as if that was of little importance. Well, it was important to Raoul.
“I’m thinkin’ he did that fer yer benefit.”
Don’t ask, Raoul. You are only encouraging him. What did he do, though? He asked, of course. “How so?”
“He prob’ly wanted you two to stay together, and bein’ stubborn as you are, the only way he could accomplish that was get you both here on the ranch. Thass why he dint file the divorce papers to begin with.”
Hey, I’m no more stubborn than Charmaine. Stubborn is her middle name. Isn’t she right this minute cleaning the ranch house when I ordered her not to? Hell, her chin is on autopilot. The least little thing I do and her chin shoots up. “How do you know Charmaine so well, anyhow? We only came to the ranch that one time after we were married.”
“Oh, she’s been here lots of times. Even after the divorce.”
Now, isn’t that interesting? I wonder why she was so chummy with dear ol’ dad. “Really?”
“Uh-hmm. She was a real basket case after the divorce, of course…”
What? Charmaine’s the one who left me. I was the basket case, not her. “I think you got the wrong impression.”
“… then over the years she dropped by on occasion, or your dad went to visit her. He was like the father she never had, seeing as how that Valcour LeDeux never wanted much to do with her. His own chile! Can you imagine that?”
Something just didn’t fit in this picture, but Raoul had no time to dwell on that. A motor could be heard approaching. Was it the sheriff back so soon? Nope. This vehicle was traveling at breakneck speed. He soon realized it was Charmaine driving his Jeep, like a blue ass fly. He assumed she was driving his vehicle, rather than Tante Lulu’s T-bird because it hadn’t been totally unloaded yet. In it still were a lifesize plastic St. Jude statue and a hand-carved hope chest. He’d been afraid to ask who they were for.
“Let’s move away from here. I don’t want Charmaine to see these dead animals,” he said.
Clarence nodded, and the two of them stepped forward quickly so that they stood a good twenty feet away from the truck by the time she came to a screeching halt.
“Hey, Clarence. Hey, Rusty.”
“Lookin’ mighty fine today, little lady,” Clarence said, tipping his hat at Charmaine.
The big ol’ suck-up! Actually, Charmaine did look good. Since she was driving his Jeep Wrangler with the soft top and open sides, he got a full head-to-toe view of her: her dark hair all big and poufed up like she was about to walk down a runway, her full lips plastered with kiss-me-or-die red lipstick, her breasts pressing out in a baby blue T-shirt that proclaimed hair me out, her brighter blue stretch pants that molded her butt and long, long legs, and black sandals that showcased her matching kiss-me-or-die red toenails. Not that he was paying attention to any particular details.
“Well, thank you kindly, Clarence.” Charmaine arched a brow at him as if he was remiss in not seconding Clarence’s compliment.
“Charmaine, you always look good enough to eat.” Oops! Talk about Freudian slips. He hadn’t meant that the way it sounded. Well, he did think that, but he hadn’t intended to say it out loud.
Instead of lashing out at him for his crudity, she laughed. She must have noticed his embarrassment and taken pity on him. Then she surprised the hell out of him by tossing out, “Honey, you look good enough to eat, too. Always.”
He tipped the brim of his hat back off his forehead and smiled. “Is that a fact?”
“See,” Clarence whispered to him in an aside. “Prime ta be bowlegged. Why dontcha wink at her? Winkin’ allus worked fer me.”
“Shhh,” he said, without bothering to look Clarence’s way. That’s all Charmaine needs to hear, and she’ll run us both over.