“You pompous bastard. Don’t you walk away from me when we are fighting.”

“I’ve been called pompous,” Blaze said, “and my parents weren’t married so I guess I am legally a bastard. But I didn’t walk away from you. I do believe you hung up on me, so I don’t think this is about me. I called back to make sure you are all right.”

“No, I’m not all right. I’m pissed and I’m going to fix it right now. I’m so mad my cussin’ is liable to fry out my cell phone, but finish telling me what you were saying about Aunt Tressa before I go straighten out this mess.”

“I’m glad I’m not on the other end of that hissy fit,” Blaze said. “Tressa went to the urgent care place before we left our last gig. She got a shot, some antibiotics, and Marva Jo is going to take care of the fortune-telling wagon a few nights. It was the first time since I’ve been with the carnival that she was too sick to work. She says she’s well enough to take over, but Marva Jo says she’s done for this year. Your mama is going to be worn out, girl. We need you here to take some of the burden off her, at least for the Bowie job.”

“Okay, okay,” Liz agreed, but her mind was still on Raylen. “I’ll be there every night, but right now I’ve got to go see what made Raylen so angry.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Blaze asked.

“More than just a little, and it involves a lot more than me throwing his hat on the ground,” she said.

“Whoa! You threw a cowboy’s hat on the ground? Darlin’, that’s a sin worse than coveting your neighbor’s ass as the Good Book says. Did you pick it up and hand it back to him nicely?” Blaze chuckled.

“I did not,” Liz said. “I stomped it flat. So I guess I don’t get to go to heaven tonight. Call me later.” She ended the call.

***

Raylen felt really stupid by the time he got home. He was glad that Gemma wasn’t there so he could wallow in his self-proclaimed pity pool as long as he wanted. It was evident that Liz missed her carnie life. She missed her friend Blaze, a man of her own caliber she probably belonged with more than she did with an old cowboy like Raylen.

He hung his poor, abused hat on the rack beside the door along with his black felt dress hat and his good straw hat, shucked out of his jeans in the living room, threw his dirty shirt over a rocking chair, and kicked his boots off in the hallway. When he reached the bathroom, he was wearing nothing but his socks. He wadded those up in a ball and slung them at the far wall.

“Temperamental women anyway,” he muttered as he turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm. Nobody falls in love with their soul mate when they are kids. I don’t care if she could have walked a barbed wire fence instead of a rail one in her bare feet. I’ve been a fool to think that she was the one for me. Any other woman wouldn’t leave me standing cold while they talked to their best friend. How would she feel if I left her sitting there while I talked to Becca for half an hour? I wouldn’t do that to her. I like her too much to have a phone conversation with anyone in the world when I could be spending time with her. And I would never, ever throw her favorite hat in the dirt and then step on it. He fumed as he got into the shower and soaped up his body.