By Caroline Clemmons
No, not a romantic breakup. I’m talking about favorite clothing.
One thing I’ve noticed recently is that no matter how overstuffed our tiny closets, I usually choose what I wear from the same few pieces. I favor maxi-skirts and knit tops with three-quarter sleeves. Which brings me to my point:
How long do we continue to wear an item of clothing before we have to “break
up” and send it to the ragbag or trash?
You know what I mean, right? Soft, often-washed fabric relaxes to
fit your movement. Tops and skirts/pants that are your friends. Never mind that
the skirt’s hem may be frayed (it is) or the top’s elbows are wearing thin
(they are). These clothes pamper us in ways a new set can’t.
Recently, I gave in to my eldest daughter’s urging and tossed a
pair of slacks into the trash. Letting go hurt, but she was right. They were
disgraceful with their almost bare knees and frayed hem. Still, I had to hold
the slacks a few minutes for a last goodbye before I could release them into
the bin. They were part of the ensemble to the skirt I’m wearing now—the one
with the frayed hem. I bought this so long ago I’m not sure of the age. Other
than old. I know that soon I’ll have to relinquish the skirt.
The same is true for my favorite top, which is so romantic it’s
perfect for a romance writer. It’s soft pink with the words “romance” and
cabbage roses and other romantic graphics, all in soft hues. I’ve searched for
a duplicate or suitable replacement without success. I do remember where and when
I bought this top. I found it at a tent on the Granbury, Texas square during a
celebration which drew vendors from across the area. I checked for choices
using the label, but nothing happened to help me.
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She is desperate to save a boy…
He questions his mail-order bride’s past…
An evil man threatens their survival.
Bernadette “Blaze” Cook rescues her nephew after her
brother-in-law murders her sister in a drunken rage. While the killer is in
jail, Blaze takes her nephew with her when she answers an ad in the Grooms
Gazette. As further precaution, she doesn’t tell anyone where she’s going. She
hopes to disappear and keep her nephew safe.
Andrew “Drew” Wagner didn’t expect his bride to have a toddler but
he’s willing to accept the boy. He is suspicious of her story. If the child is
hers, why not admit it? As his fondness for her grows, the question becomes
less and less important, but won’t rest. Is his wife here to stay or is she
planning to take off with some of his cash?
When the nephew’s father breaks out of prison, he’s able to trace
Blaze. She and Drew will need all their resources to overcome the killer’s try
for revenge. Will their new found love survive as well?
A
couple of cows bawled. More moved forward until they were near the wagon.
Kenny
pointed at the closest steers. “Moo, moo. Mik, mik.”
“This
isn’t the kind of cow we milk, dear, but you’re right. We get milk from cows
and they go moo. You’re being a good boy.”
“Ma’am,
pardon me for saying so, but you’d better put him back in his play area. If
Drew fires at something, the horses might jerk the wagon. Sure don’t want the
boy to fall out.”
The
thought sent her stomach sinking to her knees. “Oh, thank you, Henry. You know I’m
new to being in charge of a child and even newer to ranch life. I’ll appreciate
your pointers.”
She
set Kenny in the triangle formed by the trunks. “If you’ll look the other way,
Henry, I’ll climb over the seat and keep him busy.”
“I’m
looking for Drew, but feel free to use my arm or shoulder for support. Don’t
see him. Sure wish he hadn’t told me to wait here.”
She
managed the transfer from the seat to the center trunk without tearing her
stockings or her skirt. “I understand, but if he fires the rifle and the blast
frightens the horses or the cattle, then I’d be lost at what to do. A runaway
team would be disastrous.”
“Oh,
I see the point of me staying here, I just wish I didn’t. I worry about Drew.
He’s a good man and kind, but sometimes takes risks he shouldn’t.”
“Like
now? But he has to protect his herd. That’s his livelihood.”
“We
could send the others to look for what’s causing the ruckus and hope nothing
happened until they got here.”
A
screech like a woman screaming for help prefaced the blast of a rifle. What had
happened to cause that horrifying shriek?
“Bwaze!”
Kenny cried and grabbed her legs.
Frightened
herself, she laid a hand on her nephew’s back. “Henry, did Drew scream?”
The
ranch hand stood and appeared to search the direction from which the sounds had
come. “That wasn’t a who, that was a what—a panther. Sounds like a woman in
agony, don’t it? Fact is, first time I heard one, I figured a cat had attacked
a woman. Reckon Drew will be along any minute now.”
Drew
appeared trudging toward them. When he reached the wagon, he leaned on the
side. “Biggest panther I’ve ever seen. I’d like the pelt for a rug. Henry, you
mind staying here to keep the birds away until I can send the others to help?”
Before
Henry could answer, Blaze asked, “What if you loaded it behind the trunks?”
Relief
shot across Drew’s face when he looked at her. “I hated to ask you, but that
would sure help. I don’t want ants and other bugs to get to it.”
“Then,
let’s load it now.” She was eager to get to her new home, but apparently this
meant a lot to her husband. She simply wouldn’t look at the dead animal on the
way to the ranch house.
Drew
climbed onto the wagon and released the brake. “It isn’t far. In fact, he was
so close it gave me cold chills. We drove within ten yards of him.”
The
news set her shaking. The cat could have attacked them—Kenny might have been
injured. If she were killed what would happen to her nephew?
From
the wagon seat, Drew snapped the reins. “I can almost hear your thoughts
churning, Blaze. We always keep a rifle in the wagon for this reason. You and
Kenny were never in danger.”
“Thank
you for telling me, but I have a vivid imagination. I don’t understand how
having a rifle in the wagon equates to no danger if the panther had leapt at
us. Surely someone would have been severely injured before you could fire the
rifle.”
“He
wouldn’t have attacked the wagon. He was looking for a weak animal to pull
down, like a calf or a birthing mama or an old deer. We lost a calf last week and
knew a panther had killed it. Lost the tracks across rocky ground on a ridge. Reckon
this was the one responsible. Mt men were keeping an eye out for signs.”
The
wagon stopped beside the carcass of a huge cat. She had never seen one except
in pictures and hadn’t realized how large they could grow. Stretched out, it
was longer than a man was tall. How horrid it would be to have such a creature
leap at her.
Kenny
climbed onto her lap to watch the men. Henry let down the tailgate, then helped
Drew lug the cat onto the wagon bed. When they had it loaded, they closed the
tailgate and climbed onto the wagon seat.
Kenny
pointed at the panther. “Kitty cat says meow.”
The
men laughed.
Our theme this month is April Showers. Our area has had lovely showers and I look forward to May's flowers. Already, the roses planted on two sides of our patio are a riot of red. How can I fail to be optimistic with such color greeting me each morning?
