Lassoed into Marriage. Christine Wenger
loads of clothes, food, toys, shoes and more shoes. Heaven only knew what they’d put in the small bathroom cupboard. And there were plastic containers stacked all over containing bottles and tubes of stuff.
Lisa and Rose had gone shopping, so the closets and cabinets were overflowing with their purchases. That was okay with him. He traveled light. Mostly, whatever he needed—his wrap tape, rosin, bull rope and bell, jeans, shirts, underwear, socks and a couple of riding gloves—was in his gear bag.
Last night, he’d slipped out of his room in the Victorian and sat at the kitchen table with a map of the East Coast. He plotted the route he wanted to take and flagged some campgrounds along the way. Remembering how Rick had told him that Rose loved the water, he flagged the ones with swimming areas for her. He’d programmed them into his GPS.
Lisa and Rose were back with Molly and Snowball and yet more plastic containers. Sully looked on in amazement.
“Hey, we can’t fit the whole house into this motor home, ladies. We’re camping, not moving into a mansion in Beverly Hills.”
Lisa chuckled. “This is the last load—well, except for more food.”
“We bought hot dogs. And stuff for sloppy joe’s,” Rose announced to him. “And beans in a can … for you. Aunt Lisa said that cowboys like beans.”
Sully looked at Lisa. “Beans, huh?” He winked at Rose. “Well, your aunt was right. I do like beans … in a can.”
As a matter of fact, they’d already loaded in a supply of microwaveable foods—beans, hot dogs, chicken and TV dinners.
Since the burned meatloaf incident, Lisa had given the oven in the house a wide berth, like it was a Brahma ready to charge at her, but the microwave was her pet.
He had both in the motor home.
Rose looked up at him with brown eyes, the color of his brother Rick’s. “When are we going to see Mickey Mouse?”
Huh? There wouldn’t be any time for that! He raised an eyebrow at Lisa. “We’ll leave as soon as Aunt Lisa is ready.”
“I just need to lock up the house, and that’s it,” she said. Her face was flushed, maybe from slogging everything, but Sully liked to think that she was excited to go on the trip.
That would be a change for her—being excited about something.
She dropped an armload of groceries on the table. “You could have helped, you know.”
“I was securing everything,” he said. “Can’t have all those plastic boxes flying around.”
“I’ll do it. I’ll do everything.” She rolled her eyes, turned and left the RV.
What was her problem?
He shrugged it off, hoping that everything would go well on this trip. If it did, maybe he could convince her to travel to the next stop on the bull riding circuit.
He’d have to get through this trip to Florida first.
Lisa didn’t seem to be the camping type, although traveling in a motor home was a step up from camping. He thought of camping as backpacking or pitching a tent. A motor home was luxury camping.
But he still wondered how he and Lisa would get along. They were superficially being nice to one another for the sake of Rose, but Sully knew that underneath their façade they were one word away from an argument.
But slowly Lisa was growing on him. He saw how sad she was over losing her sister. She’d sit on the garden bench and stare endlessly at the note from Carol and Rick, still not opening it.
Sometimes, he’d wanted to sit next to her and say a couple of comforting words, but then he decided that his sympathy wouldn’t be welcome. Instead, he’d rope the statue, think and watch her out of the corner of his eye, pretending he didn’t know she was crying.
He liked how she read books to Rose. She pointed to the pictures, asking her questions, and got her to make up her own stories.
He liked how she tried to cook, too. He saw the recipes she’d printed out from the Young Cooks website. Basic stuff. He supposed he ought to roll up his sleeves and do some cooking—he didn’t mind at all—but he didn’t want to seem like a know-it-all. She was doing fine.
Lisa climbed up the steps of the RV. “I think we’re ready to go now. Oh-nine-thirty hours. Just as scheduled.”
He didn’t remember insisting on a time or a schedule.
“Then let’s roll! Everyone buckle up.” He pointed to the table with bench seats. “You can sit there, or someone can sit in the copilot’s seat.”
Lisa slid into the bench seat and Rose slid in opposite her. They both clicked on their seat belts.
He guessed that he’d be traveling without a copilot.
Nice and quiet. That was the way he liked it. Right?
This isn’t a bad way to travel, Lisa thought as she tucked Rose into bed. She liked how the sides of the bed/kitchen table formed a barrier and secured Rose from rolling off. Traveling with a bathroom was another good perk.
But it still didn’t beat flying.
Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the caller. It was her friend Luann at JFW Aviation. She was in charge of booking charters.
Her heart began to race and the blood started zinging through her veins at the thought of flying again. It had been too long.
“Hi, Luann! Got something for me?”
“Yeah, I do. I have a charter of high rollers going from Albany to Vegas. This would be perfect for you since you’re somewhat near Albany already. It’s just a quickie. You’ll be back in three days.”
“You want me to stay in Vegas?”
“Sure. It doesn’t make sense for me to fly you back commercial and then send you back again the next day just so you can fly the charter back.”
But she’d be gone for three days.
“When?” Lisa asked, pulling her appointment book and a pen from her purse. No electronics for her when it came to her appointments.
“Okay, got it.” Lisa wrote down the information and blocked out the dates. “Should be no problem, but I’ll let you know for sure. Thanks, Luann.”
She was going to fly again! As she hurried toward the front of the RV to tell Sully, she felt like she was walking on sunshine.
Wait! A cloud blocked her sun when she remembered that the dates for the charter fell on a weekend. She’d told Sully that she’d fly during the week so he could ride on weekends. Now what? She didn’t want to turn down her first charter, and it’d be round trip from Albany. Just what she’d wanted.
She had to discuss it with Sully.
Taking the passenger’s seat, she turned toward him. “Where are we?”
“Pennsylvania. We’re not as far as I thought. I forgot that Molly had to be walked, and I didn’t know that Snowball would be barfing up hairballs.”
“I’m the one cleaning up cat barf,” she said. “Not you.”
“And I’m the one walking around with plastic bags picking up dog poop.”
Lisa chuckled. “I never thought I’d ever be doing this.”
“Me, either.” He picked up a bottle of water and took a big draw.
“Thank goodness we don’t have to follow Rose around with a plastic bag,” Lisa said.
Sully spewed his water all over the windshield and the front of his light blue shirt. His laughter bounced around the motor home. Lisa joined in.
When they both sobered up, they fell silent. Lisa watched the lines on the