A Cowboy's Pride

In the distant kitchen, red-orange flames curled beneath a kettle set on a gas stove. Open cereal boxes, empty bottles of soda and scattered corn chips littered the counters. Flies buzzed around a thawing package of ground beef. When was the last time this place had been cleaned? She made a mental note to contact a local housekeeping service for her arthritic mother.

“It’s Katlynn!” she hollered.

Steam rose from the kettle, and her nose curled at the smell of burning plastic. What was cooking? White foam frothed over the pot’s lid and spilled down its sides, sizzling when it hit the grate.

“You’re going to start a fire!” Katlynn dashed inside. She leaped over children’s toys as she crossed the living room’s obstacle course, skidded to a stop before the stove and flicked off the burner.

The volcano of lather settled, revealing baby bottles, teething rings and, inexplicably, one warped plastic flip-flop.

“Fire? Who said fire?”

Katlynn twisted around and spied her mother. Her short hair was smashed flat against one side of her skull as if she’d been sleeping or lying down. White frizz sprung from the opposite side, fluffy as a seeded dandelion. An oversize housecoat covered all but her sharp collarbones, bony elbows and swollen ankles.

“I handled it, Ma.” Katlynn bussed her mother’s creased cheek. “Why are you boiling a flip-flop?”

“Frankie’s teething. It’s his favorite chew toy.” Her mother brushed past Katlynn and poured the kettle’s contents into a strainer perched atop a stack of dishes in the sink. “What are you doing home? You didn’t lose your job, did you?”

“I’m taping episodes here.”

Katlynn used every facial muscle trick to keep her expression neutral. Lose her job... What a crazy idea...only it wasn’t, not with Scandalous History on the chopping block. Everyone associated with the show, from the producer down to the maintenance crew, depended on her to pull off a hit, a story brimming with intrigue and scandal, all the while not harming the Lovelands’ truce with the Cades or creating a media storm.

She’d promised.

And she never went back on her word.

Except once, as Cole reminded her.

Spending time with him this morning had been like stepping into the past. She’d felt disoriented, her perspective turned upside down, her body, her feelings, her thoughts, drawn to Cole. When he’d held her, briefly, she’d wanted to lay her head on his broad shoulder and share her troubles the way she once had. But that’d be owning up to failure, something her pride wouldn’t allow.

“This is a nice surprise.” Her mother pulled open the fridge and stooped to rummage inside it. A moment later she produced a box of animal crackers.

“You refrigerate those?”

“Timmy likes to eat them cold.”

As if on cue, Katlynn’s nephew galloped past her and tugged on his grandmother’s hem. “Are you gonna play with me, Grammy?”

“Hey, Timmy.” Katlynn scooted down to his height and mussed his wispy brown hair. “I’m your aunt Katlynn.”

The four-year-old buried his face in her mother’s housecoat then peeled back the material to peek at her, one-eyed.

“Who’s that?” he whispered loudly.

“Your aunt, honey.” Her mother smoothed down his cowlick. “Why don’t you give her a hug?”

“No.” Timmy snatched the animal crackers and bolted down the short hall to the house’s three bedrooms.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just never seen you before.” Her mother motioned for Katlynn to follow her into the living room then shoved a pile of coupon flyers off the couch, clearing a space.

The sofa sagged to the ground as Katlynn dropped into it. She hauled herself back to the edge and examined the shabby furnishings, dismayed by the conditions. Crate boxes served as a TV stand for the old set. A shadeless table lamp, its lightbulb exposed, stood on the floor beside a torn armchair. Stuffing spilled from the back of the seat and covered the matted maroon carpet as if it’d snowed.

“How are you, Ma? Did you get my check last week?”

“Keeping busy. Haven’t had a chance to deposit it yet, but thank you. Though you know you don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Katlynn assured her mother. “It makes me feel good to help out.” Since her father’s work injury a couple years ago, her parents survived on his disability checks and Katlynn’s contributions, which, she now saw, were woefully inadequate. She’d instruct her assistant to send three times the amount.

What would happen to them if Katlynn’s show was canceled? Her determination to nail this episode rammed into a higher gear. The Cade-Loveland segment would be the show of the season...no...the series.

Her ma patted Katlynn’s knee with a gnarled hand, the sight raising her alarm. Her crooked fingers looked worse than she remembered. “You’ve always been a hard worker. Had your first job when you were, what? Eleven?”

“Ten,” Katlynn corrected, gripping her mother’s stiff hand.

“That’s right. You were cutting lawns with that old rotary push mower you found in the shed. Never knew how you had the strength to haul it around the neighborhood.”

“We all pitched in back then. Pa said every bit counted. Is he here?”

“Keith ran him to Denver for an MRI.” Ma pinched a couple of yellow fronds from a fern plant in a ceramic baby shoe.

“Is his back worse?”

“Same. It’s just an annual checkup.”

“Did you get my messages?” Katlynn glanced around for the phone but spied only an empty jack. “I called the landline and your iPhone. You still have it, right?”

“Sorry, honey. I know it was a Christmas gift, but I couldn’t figure it out. Plus, we hardly ever get reception out here so I gave it to John.”

Katlynn’s oldest brother—who hadn’t relayed her voice mail messages. Typical. “I’ll buy you another while I’m in town and show you how to use it.”

Her mother shook her head. “I don’t want you wasting your money on us. It’s best if you keep it in the bank. You never know when you’re going to need it.”

Katlynn stared at her. When was the last time anyone refused her gifts? How strange to be around someone who wanted nothing from her. “Let me worry about that, Ma.”

Still. Her mother had a point. If the show was canceled, she’d be out of work for who knew how long before she landed her next gig. She’d gotten lucky to even win an audition for Scandalous History. After her agent’s mother’s bridge partner mentioned her son’s project, a historical investigation show, she’d sent in Katlynn’s head shots and CV, which included her double major in broadcasting and history.

During the audition, Katlynn and the executive producer connected over their shared love of Wild West lore, a conversation that continued over lunch and ended in her being offered the plum job the following week.

Digging into an old-time-Western family feud was exactly the kind of story to fire her imagination and, hopefully, the audience’s. Regardless of her irritating attraction to her ex, she’d savor this project, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to solve a historical mystery.

“Can I get you anything to eat?” Ma’s deep-set eyes ran over Katlynn. “You look too thin.”

Her mouth dropped open before she caught herself. “I’m good, thanks. Don’t go to any bother.”

When was the last time she’d eaten a home-cooked meal?

The stick-to-your-ribs kind?

Every LA restaurant seemed to be vegan, gluten-free, dairy-free places where ordering a steak felt like a felony.