“You know what? I don’t really know. I guess I’m just sorry all this has come back on you. I know you didn’t come back to Tibbehah County to get into all this mess. Especially with what you went through with Rick.”

“Me?” she asked. “He blew up your truck.”

“Yeah,” Quinn said. “You’re right. I sure did love that truck.”

Maggie nodded, kicking the swing back and forth. She looked pretty sitting there, even in sweats and a sleeveless tee, holding a ceramic mug. Staring out at the cow pasture beyond the road and the barbed wire, she turned to Quinn and said, “Want me to put on a record?”

Quinn smiled, looking at his watch. “Sure,” he said. “I’d like very much for you to put on a record.”

He watched her walk shoeless back into the house, heard the click and whir of the turntable and then Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra, the second album they did together. Nancy & Lee Again. “Big Red Balloon.” Maggie returned, leaning against the doorframe, looking down at Quinn with his mug in hand, and said, “Are we gonna screw or what?”

“Hoping that’s what you were thinking.”

“Isn’t that what Lee and Nancy always means?”

“It sure does,” Quinn said, standing and placing the coffee mug on the porch ledge. “God bless ’em.”

He left Hondo outside with his muddy paws and stinky coat and closed the front door, placing his hands under Maggie’s shirt and on her bare hipbones, kissing her hard on the mouth. Sweatpants, soft and worn, falling low over her waist. Nancy singing You ain’t nothing but an old fool. Maggie jumped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Quinn held on tight, walking her up the stairs to the bedroom. Quinn knowing this was a temporary escape from all of it, but taking what he could get.

A half hour later, they lay there in the tangle of sheets, looking up at the spinning ceiling fan. Maggie, bare-chested, had her arm across her forehead, as Quinn worked to catch his breath. The world flickering back to normal speed.

“That’s one way to start a day,” Quinn said.

“It’s always been like that,” she said. “Hasn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Quinn said, then turning toward Maggie, her head on the pillow, staring at him with wide green eyes. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

“I’m fine,” Maggie said, unblinking, reaching for his hand. “Just fine. How about some breakfast?”

*   *   *