Home On The Range.

Spotty droplets of sleet hit the windshield of the Suburban as Bill
turned off the farm-to-market road and passed through the open gate of
The Ranch.  Pecan trees lined the caliche drive that lead to the
house, sitting far back from the entrance.  It was a typical west
Texas sprawling ranch house.  Built in a good year when money was
plentiful, but the excess took its toll in leaner ones.  Bill stopped
the truck in front of the three-car garage.

Deb stepped out into the biting wind and hurried to Bill's side as he
made his way down the porch to the front door.  She clasped one of his
hands in both of hers, and he gave them a squeeze as he unlocked the
door.

They found shelter from the wind and light sleet, but it was still
cold inside.  The previous owners had vacated several weeks before,
turning off the electricity and gas as they left.  The brick house was
well-insulated but the several weeks of winter-like weather had sent
the temperature inside to a very chilly low.

She was totally silent the entire time as Bill walked her through the
empty house.  Living room, den, four bedrooms, three baths, kitchen,
breakfast nook, and formal dining room.  Only the wall-to-wall plush
carpet and draperies remained.  All furniture and appliances had been
moved out.  Still, three skylights gave the place a warm, occupied
feel.  This was no fixer-upper.  It couldn't have been more than ten
years old, and it was spotlessly clean.  The owners had taken care of
it, and left it in as good a shape as it had been in when first built.

Bill led her through the sliding glass doors in the breakfast nook,
onto the large uncovered patio.  From there they could see the small
stable and a storage/workshop building in back.  The rest was just the
vast expanse of flat plains open to an ever-darkening sky.

Bill grinned down at Deb.  "Ya think I can have my hand back?"

She blushed and smiled apologetically as she reluctantly released her
death-grip.  He reached into his inside jacket pocket to remove a
Havana, which he lit with a chuckle.

"It's big," she said in a small voice, her first words nearly all
afternoon.

Bill nodded.  "Eleven acres."

Deb shivered slightly.  Bill slipped an arm around her shoulders and
pulled her close to him.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and
began to feel warmer already, his jacket partially covering her as he
held her.  She shook her head in bewilderment.

"Why?"  she asked.

"It's time."  His monosyllabic answers were always completely
unreadable.

"What do you mean?"

Her cheek was resting against his chest as she looked out over the
landscape.  She couldn't see his face as the mischievous grin spread
over it.  "What do you *think* I mean?"

"I don't know, that's why I asked you!"  Her voice was becoming
slightly exasperated, a little of the old Deb creeping back in.

Bill chuckled again and pulled back away from her enough so they could
look each other in the face.

"Look, there are things I might be comfortable sayin'.  There are
things you might have to drag outta me.  And there are things that I
ain't never gonna be able to say because of who I am."

Deb nodded.  "I know."

"Right now . . . maybe this is the only way I can say . . . maybe this
is the only way I can ask . . . what somebody else might ask at this
point in a relationship."  Bill's gaze bored straight down into her. 
"You understand?"

Deb nodded and pulled herself into him again.  "Yes."

Her voice was barely a whisper.  Whether Bill could hear her or not,
she didn't know.  But she said it for herself.  "The answer would be
yes."

The sleet began to fall steadily, the cold droplets mixing with the
warm tears on her face.

"Beth Franklin" - 1998

And now I was at the Corner, staring at an email Beth had sent me and
lost in thought.  As usual, I had gone out of my way to misunderstand what
Billy had been trying to tell me, and I had almost blown the thing up in my
own face.  I was thankful I had managed to keep my mouth shut, doubly 
thankful that Beth had written to set me straight before that same mouth
could do its usual efficient job of getting my ass in trouble.

Billy:  Looks a hell of a lot like bar business.

I stabbed the monitor button, turning it off, and glared ineffectually 
at him.

Deb:  You always read over my shoulder?

Billy:  Any chance I get when you're writin' 'bout me.

I stuck my tongue out at him and sat back, arms folded to disguise my
trembling.  I tried to remember...had I used any inflammatory language as
I worked out my reply?  Had I mentioned certain legal...states?  Had I
revealed, in any way, my hopeless middleclass idiocy?  I didn't think
so...

Billy stepped behind my chair, leaned his full weight on it, rocking me back
almost to the point of tipping me over onto the floor.  I leaned back into
his middle, looking up at him.  He returned my gaze steadily.

Billy:  Hope you ain't gettin' yourself set up for somethin'.

Deb:  No, Billy, I'm not.

Billy:  You been talkin' to the pipsqueak?

Deb:  Yes, I have.

Annapolis stepped in for a minute.

Billy:  Then there won't be any misunderstanding later.

Deb:  Not a chance.

He spoke very quietly, simply.

Billy:  I can only change so much.

Deb:  I know that.  Sometimes I forget...and people are kind enough to 
remind me.

Billy let off on the chair and threaded his hands through my hair, lacing
the fingers together across the top of my head.  It was exactly the move
Rhett made on Scarlett the night he...ravaged her...though I doubted Billy
knew that or would have cared if I told him.  I was merely surprised that
a man's hands would be big enough to perform the maneuver comfortably.

Billy:  Ya wanna work on this thing here.

Deb:  What thing?

Billy:  Y'brain.  Ya ain't stupid, girl, but ya don't think.  Ya don't
listen.  And ya sure as hell don't mind.

Deb:  Think, yes.  Listen, maybe.  Mind, no way.

For a split second he put excruciating pressure on the sides of my head,
then backed off before it could do more than surprise me.  A big paw cupped 
my chin, dragged my head back again, to find that he was grinning down at
me.

Billy:  I ever caught you mindin' me, probably kill me.

Deb:  Since I don't want you dead...guess I can't mind.

Billy:  First time for everything.

Deb:  Don't hold your breath.

Billy stuck his head in the 'Washroom'.

Billy:  You got all my shit back there already?  Damn!

Deb:  Wasn't much of it.

Billy:  Yeah, you been goin' through the place like a house afire.  You
have enough to do all that shoppin'?

Deb:  More than enough.  I even got the Maytag washer and dryer with the
hoodies.

Billy:  Hoodies?  What the hell you talkin' about?

Deb:  The expensive ones...they've got a piece on them...kids always called
them hoodies.

In spite of myself, I went very quiet at mention of the boys.  I made a
point of rarely talking about them around Billy.  He watched me, eyes
sharp...then Annapolis showed up for the second time since he'd arrived.

Billy:  It's for the best, you know that.

Deb:  Yes, I know it.  And before you say anything else, I know I agreed
to it.

Billy:  Doesn't mean you like it, though, I know.  You've done a lot of
changing, too, don't think I don't see it.

Annapolis took a powder again.

Billy:  Gotcha somethin'...couplea somethin's...got 'em outside, hang on.

Billy moved with the quick grace that fascinated me, leaving me alone in
the office.  I flipped on the monitor and wrote a couple of quick sentences
to Beth before the boots, clocking along, caused me to shut it off again.

Billy:  Here, you two...go see y'mama.

I gasped, feeling the grin engulfing my face, slid to the floor and was
overwhelmed by the wriggling mass of canine that he had set loose on me.
One was solid black, and while he was enthusiastic, he hung back and allowed
the other to perform the majority of the licking and slobbering detail.
That one was black and white spotted, and he completed his routine by 
crashing to the floor, rolling on his back and staring at me, allowing his
tongue to hang in his eye.

Deb:  Who'd give up both their dogs?

Billy:  Give 'em up, hell...they hadda get rid of 'em...last of a litter.

Deb:  These are puppies?

Billy:  Three months old...Great Danes...purebred but too big t'show.

Deb:  You don't believe in going halfway, do you?  Anybody else gets dogs,
you get friggin' dinosaurs...

I busied myself scratching a belly while attempting to get acquainted
with the other animal.  The black puppy was about ten times as reserved at
the spotted fool lying in front of me.  He sniffed my hands, fingers, gave
them a tentative, almost perfunctory lick, then raised his eyes to Billy.

Deb:  Somebody knows who the Big Dog is around here.

Billy:  Hey, goddammit!

Deb:  Well!  Shoe fits, y'gotta get Sam's old hoof out of it and wear it.

Billy was wearing his 'you're gonna get it now' grin, and he moved to
give it to me, but stumbled over the black dog, allowing me to get into the
Washroom and slam the door behind me.  I ended with shutting myself in the
bathroom, trying to keep him out by throwing my weight against the door.
Billy came into the bathroom, needless to say, and tossed me fully clothed
into the shower.  I charged out, laughing, and jumped into his arms.

Deb:  I believe in share the wealth, y'know.

Billy:  You believe in share the damn pee-neumonia, you mean.

He held me tightly, lifting me off the floor and softly biting the side
of my neck.

Billy:  They ain't the boys.  I know that.  Can't help that I ain't used
to houseapes...but the dogs...they're somethin'.

Deb:  Yes...they are.  And thank you...for remembering...and for thinking of
me.  The boys really are better off...just...I miss them.  I did the right
thing for everyone...but I still miss them.

Billy:  Even that middle one?

Deb:  Even the middle one.  All of them.  But this is right.

The spotted idiot chose that moment to galumph on into the bathroom,
slamming into Billy's legs and knocking us both into the shower.  His
brother followed, sat, stared with comical tolerance at the panting goof
responsible for our dousing.

Deb:  Can't go home like this, we'll catch our deaths.

Billy gave me another look, one I was also familiar with...

Billy:  Put it all through th' dryer.  I'll keep y'busy...real busy.

TO BE CONTINUED...