Chapter 18

I wondered why my cell phone was ringing in the middle of the night. Then my eyes cracked open enough for me to realize it was bright inside the trailer despite the closed curtains. Sunshine, not street lamps.

I probably didn't want a translation of the Earlymorningcherylese that was mumbled next to my ear, so I reached for the phone instead. "Randy Long."

"Hey, it's Maynard. Have you left town yet?"

"Ummm ... no."

"Oh, good. I was afraid I was too late. It's after eight, and I know how you ranch-types like to get up early."

I listened, wrote down notes, thanked him, hung up, and snuggled next to Sleeping Beauty's evil twin sister. "Cheryl?" I said, gently caressing her shoulders.

Something in Earlymorningcherylese, too faint to make out individual words. But not to faint to grasp the meaning, if not the words.

I brushed back hair and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Cheryl?"

The eyelids remained closed, but I knew the beautiful orbs they once covered had turned flaming red with yellow cat-like pupils. "Lem' lee, fun peachit."

"Cheryl, I have a surprise for you."

"F'kov 'n'... " The eyes flew open. Human eyes. "You got it up again?"

"No, I..."

The eyes closed. "Then let me ge ba lee you..." The rest faded to grunts and then inaudibility.

"Well, okay, if you'd rather sleep than have breakfast with Tyrone Hayes."

I counted to six before the eyes slammed open and the head popped up from the pillow. "HUH?"

"Maynard called him and told him that his biggest fan in Texas had missed his performance because she was sick that day and wanted to meet him."

"AND WE'RE GOING TO MEET HIM AT THE RESTAURANT?"

"No, we're going to meet him at Chateau Sillerman. Molly is..."

"YOU MEAN NOBODY ELSE WILL BE THERE BUT US?"

"Well, Maynard and Molly and I planned to join you since we haven't had..."

"OHMIGOD! I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR!"

I thought she looked just fine even without her necklace. I was pretty sure Maynard and Tyrone would agree with me, but I guessed Molly would want her to wear something. Probably something more than just her necklace.

Cheryl sat next to me, her head on my shoulder, listening to her autographed CD of Rockin' Mountains. As I pulled onto the overpass of the state highway leading to the interstate, she sighed sweetly. I glanced down and marveled at her expression. It was equal parts of contentment, awe, disbelief, and the post-orgasmic afterglow from one final session before we departed.

Yeah, she'd gotten it up again. My niece, the miracle worker.

"You haven't said what you think," I noted.

She kissed my shoulder through my shirt. "I think I hope Mom never finds out you're straight. If every summer can be like this, I want to spend all of them with you. If ... if that's okay with you."

"It's okay with me, but I think Keith would like you to spend some of that time at the Summer Dude Ranch."

"Oh. Yeah! That would be cool, too!"

I grinned and kept my mouth shut. I knew that anything I said might be used against me, even if she was happy at this particular instant. One advantage of knowing a lot of women is that your survival skills get sharpened. You realize that gloriously happy moments can become arguments with one wrong word. I didn't want to utter that word.

"You know, I was surprised that he was just a kid."

I probably should keep my mouth shut, I realized, but I decided to risk speaking. "Honey, when you were about to enter the ninth grade last year, I remember that you didn't think you were 'just a kid.' Has your opinion changed now that you're so much older and wiser?"

"Oh!" She blinked. Twice. "I didn't think about that. He didn't act like a star."

"That's not true."

She frowned up at me as White Water Canyon ended and Gold Fever began. "Huh?"

"Man! I wish I could think of witty responses like that."

"Asshole."

I risked a glance and found her smiling, not snarling. I gave her a quick kiss and returned my eyes to the road. "He acted like Tyrone Hayes. Tyrone Hayes is a star. Ergo..."

"Leggo my ergo!"

I glanced down at the smug grin. "Takes an asshole to recognize an asshole, I guess."

"No light shines out of yours, either, you know."

"Hmpf!" I grunted. "As I was expounding, he's only been a star since Thanksgiving. But I don't think he's going to change that much. Maynard told me about his family. Kids usually turn out the way their parents are."

"So you think I'm going to turn out like Mom?"

"I think you're going to be an exception to that rule. That's why I haven't shot you in self-defense."

"You 'shot' me plenty of times last night."

"Yes, but that was assault with a friendly weapon."

She sighed, replaced her head on my shoulder, and circled it in a caress. "You got that right." We were at the Interstate before she spoke again. "I still think we should have stayed another day. Tyrone would have introduced you to 'Little Momma' and you could have seen her boobs up close."

I no longer had to worry about bear traps. Instead, I was now worrying about wolf traps. I was pretty sure Cheryl was teasing. Pretty sure. But sometimes relationships change with no advance warning after the participants take that final step in the bedroom. That's what happened with Marcia Phelps after I performed her first concert with the pork trombone when we were sixteen. Jokes that made her laugh the day before suddenly became reasons for jealous furor and raging anger. It was far too early to tell what effect our new relationship would have on Cheryl.

Tact. I'll try tact. "Honey, you know that my chances of seeing them in all their glory, the way I've seen yours, are less than zero. Besides, I'm sure I wouldn't like them anyway. No doubt her aesthetics aren't anywhere equal to yours."

She was quiet for a long time. I was beginning to wonder whether she was dozing off or pissed off when she raised a hand and pointed. "Pull over in that rest stop."

I hit the turn signal. "Time to go pee?"

"No."

That's what I was afraid of. Because of the huge fifth-wheel camper I was pulling, I always parked in the truck area. I pulled in next to a Wal-Mart semi and killed the engine. Cheryl straightened and turned to me.

"Uncle Randy, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?"

"Uncle Mandy! If I wasn't a kid in the ninth grade, I'm not one now, either. Don't treat me like I'm one! You've been dancing around me like I'm an eggshell now and you're afraid you'll step on me and crush me." That was one of Mandy's sayings, courtesy of Aunt Emily.

Her smooth forehead wrinkled and her eyes grew watery. "Until last night you were my best friend and made me feel loved. Now that we've fucked, you treat me more like a stranger than your niece. Is it because you don't love or respect me any more? Or is it because I've done something wrong? Is it because I wasn't good enough my first time, like you expected? Is it ... Well, what is it? What do I have to do to get my Uncle Randy back? Or is it to late to get him back?"

Oh, shit.

A tear crawled from the corner of her right eye. "I thought having you was the best thing that ever happened to me, even better than meeting Tyrone Hayes, but now you're making me feel like it was the worst thing ever. Like it was a huge mistake."

"Cheryl, I ... Look, it's not easy to explain, and it may sound wrong at first. I'll explain, but let me finish before you say anything, like I did for you. Okay? It may not come out right, too, so don't jump to any conclusions that will make us both feel worse before you understand. Okay?"

Cheryl definitely isn't a kid any more. She listened quietly while I explained. A couple of times she looked like she was biting her lip to keep from saying anything, but she let me explain what I meant every time the words came out wrong.

When I finished, she nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Daddy always says our lives are guided by past experience. Now I see more clearly what he means. But Uncle Randy, that sure sounded like you expect me to be like Mom."

I hadn't thought of that, but she was right. I nodded. "Good point. I guess if I'd realized that, I'd have saved myself a lot of worry. And you a lot of grief, huh?"

"I guess. But you can't help doing dumb things. You're only a man." Her hand slid up my leg and squeezed the little buckaroo through my shorts. She grinned. "Lucky for me."

I managed to get enough sleep to get up refreshed at seven, mainly because the little buckaroo had failed to respond a third time to Cheryl's demands. Since the Canyon Cliff Campground had a laundromat and an adjacent cafe that catered to the passing traffic, we did laundry while we had breakfast. I didn't want to have to explain the condition of the sheets to Keith and Joyce.

After the sheets were back on the beds, Cheryl decided that she didn't want to explain, either, so she pushed her shorts and thong down, bent forward, and rested her hands on the kitchen sink. We had one for the road because she was just too cute for my short partner not to respond.

"That should last you until tonight," she said as she cleaned up afterward.

"But will it last you?"

Her only answer was a feral purr.

But there was no "tonight" because Keith and Joyce met us in front of the house and insisted we spend the remainder of the afternoon and the night with them as their guests. Keith looked so desperately pleading that I would have agreed if Cheryl hadn't beat me to it. She lightly lifted an eyebrow at me afterward in question. I slowly nodded that I again understood her reason, earning a smile that made me quiver like a schoolboy about to get his first kiss.

I called Diego to tell him we would be delayed until the next day. After I hung up I said, "Cordillera's in labor."

Keith tensed and looked concerned, throwing a worried glance at Cheryl encircled by his arm. "Do you need to get back?"

"No," I said, and he relaxed. "It's not her first, and everything's normal. But Cheryl's Blaze will probably have a playmate by the time we return."

"Cool!" said Keith's armful, bouncing on her toes. Joyce caught Keith's reaction to that and for just an instant a sad-yet-happy smile flickered across her face. Then the armful looked up at Keith and cranked up the charm. "Papa Keith?"

I thought the man would burst into tears as he looked at her in surprise. "Yes, Little Missy?" His voice was slightly choked.

Joyce's hand gripped my forearm and gently squeezed.

"Do you have lots of little horses born here, too?"

"No. All of the males are geldings, either when we buy them or after they arrive."

The Eeew! flickered for an instant. Then, "I see. Hey, I've been wondering. What all do you have to do to run a dude ranch, Papa Keith?"

Joyce squeezed next to me and spoke in a low voice, though we both realized Keith wouldn't have heard her if she'd screamed. "Wherever do you find nieces like that? Are the rest of your family's kids like her?"

"Joyce, I love them all and they're all wonderful, but she's unique. Maybe it's because she's trying to be the antithesis of her mother."

She nodded slowly as Keith steered Cheryl down the sidewalk, his free arm pointing in various directions as he explained things. Her voice was faint, like she was thinking out loud to herself. "The Buddhists say Karma has to balance. If she's the balance to your sister, then maybe it's a lucky thing your sister turned out the way she did."