Taken By A Texan. Lass Small

had lost most of its residential status. Their yard had been altered into a driveway, along which were parking places for those who wanted to eat inside. They didn’t dine; they ate. The downstairs rooms of the house were separated eating places. It was casual.

      In one room at one of the small tables, Lu and Rip slowly ate their lunch. The dog, Buddy, was allowed out of the pickup and on the cooler back porch. The dog didn’t need to be tied and obeyed orders to stay.

      Rip looked at Lu. When had he ever really looked at a woman just to see her? He realized what she needed most was a nap. She was wrung-out. He did not want to take her to the hospice. He’d not be welcomed to go to her room and waken her.

      He looked at his watch. If they drove out to his house at the Keeper place, they’d just about, right away, have to drive back to the hospital for the two o’clock visit.

      He asked Marge, “You got a bed for her to nap?”

      Marge’s eyes widened. He was going to get her out of his reach and let her rest! She asked carefully, “Just her?” In spite of her riveted interest, this was her own place and she couldn’t really allow anything, well, anything like that in her place.

      Rip replied, “I’m not as tired as her.” In his manner of speech, the “tired” sounded like tarred.

      But his comment made the misguided Marge burst into a quickly attempted smothered laugh. Obviously, his lust had outlasted Lu’s. The exhausted, overly used, budding woman needed some rest, but she had to be out of his greedy reach!

      So with her eyes flickering with suppressed interest, Marge said, “We got a bed upstairs.”

      Rip didn’t like leaving Lu in a strange place alone, and while he’d gladly stay and protect her himself, he had her reputation to consider. So he asked, “Could Buddy stay with her? He’s house-trained.”

      The dog was a problem, but Marge found the whole situation so fascinating, that she was ready to tolerate the dog. She said a rather hesitant but oddly quick, “Okay.”

      Then they had to convince Lu. She said, “No, I can’t give you more to do. You’re busy enough. I’ll just go to the hospice.”

      “No.” That, of course, was Rip. He tended to control.

      Marge’s eyes danced but her mouth was still and did not smile. She said, “No problem. Really. You’re welcome.”

      Just the idea of a bed, right then and there, had Lu saying, “You’re very kind.”

      Marge, thinking on her own track, had figured erroneously why the young woman was so tired. Lu’d be given an hour or so of being left alone, by Rip, this time, and sleeping. Marge said, “Stay here for a while.”

      Very seriously, Rip agreed, as he said to Lu, “You can sleep.”

      Rip’s and Marge’s urging rather amused Lu, then, because she had just realized the clientele of the eatery would be noisy and laughing and banging dishes around. She said, “I could go back to the hospice.”

      “No, no.” That time the response was almost in chorus with Rip, Marge and Hank all seriously protesting.

      So it was Marge who led the draggingly tired young woman up the stairs, and Buddy went along without any human indication that he should go with her.

      In the small room, the screened window was open to the spring air. The bed was big and soft.

      The dog looked around and settled down under the window. He watched with his chin on his front paws.

      Marge watched as Lu slid her dress off over her head. The young woman was obviously very weary. She crawled slowly onto the bed and pulled the light blanket up over her. She said to Marge, “This is like a cloud.”

      It was only then that Marge understood Lu wasn’t only a love partner, she was also a young, tired human. Having never had children of her own, Marge awkwardly tugged on the blanket, setting it askew. Awkwardly, she said, “Sleep tight, honey.”

      Then Marge turned and went out the door, closing it gently.

      So with the woman gone, the dog came over and jumped up on the bottom of the bed and curled around several times before it sighed and settled down.

      That almost overly amused the tired Lu. She moved her feet over to one side, already cramped by the area the dog had taken as its own, but she did go right to sleep.

      

      It was later that Lu felt the dog get up and cross over her covered, cramped legs to jump down onto the floor. His toenails clicked as he went over to the window to sit there. She opened her eyes to watch the dog. He was watching the door.

      There was a soft knock and before she could say or do anything, the door opened. It was Rip. “You awake?”

      She said, “The dog sleeps on the bed. He’s a sham.”

      “I didn’t think he’d pull that on a fragile lady! I am shocked.” He shook his head and tsked, looking at the dog.

      Then with his lack of any surprise, she mentioned, “Apparently, not very much.”

      “I’ve gotten used to it in this time he’s been with me. The curious part is he has no qualms about sleeping with somebody, but he’s careful to be on the floor if somebody else comes along.”

      She nodded. “A total fraud.”

      Rip asked gently, “Did you sleep at all?”

      “Like a dead rock!”

      “There are live rocks?” he gasped.

      She groaned. “You’re one of those kind who is easily shocked.”

      So, of course, he then said, “So you slept like a dead rock.”

      “I breathed.”

      With her words, Rip remembered their watching to be sure her brother in the hospital breathed. Her brother. Rip asked, “Where are your parents?” “My daddy had a heart attack when he heard Andrew was missing. Mother’s with him.”

      “Ahhhh. He okay?”

      “It was mild. It might not have been a heart attack, as such as it was panic. He tends to be emotional. Our doctor is careful of him. My daddy talks to the medical staff here. They give him updates.”

      Rip by then had slowly moved to the side of her bed. He sat on the edge very carefully, like an animal who isn’t sure of his welcome.

      She asked logically, “How am I to get up and get dressed with you here?”

      “I’ll help.”

      “No. I’m capable. Go downstairs, and I’ll be there in just a couple of minutes.”

      “You’re selfish!” He made the two growling, hushed words into shock.

      She considered for a minute and then nodded as she agreed, “Yep.”

      He looked disgruntled. He did a good job of it, but she wasn’t lured. She was worse. She was patient.

      Rip sighed with great drama, then he said to the dog, “Come along, Buddy. If I can’t stay here and watch her dress, then neither can you. You’ve already slept with her. I am surprised at you. Shame on you!”

      The dog lifted his head, closed his eyes and panted oddly as if he was laughing.

      She said, “It’s as if—”

      “Yeah. He thinks I’m funny. He laughs most of the time. And he tries to communicate. He thinks I’m real dumb.”

      She agreed with his study. “Dogs tend to be tolerant, but you wonder what sort of words they mumble under their breaths.”

      He nodded as he replied, “You’ve been the servant of dogs.”

      She shared: “Cats are less demanding. They can get up on tables