Michael McGarrity - Nothing But Trouble

Kerney was glad to see that Joe and Bessie Jordan were keeping the old tradition alive.

Behind the holding pens was a stock tank fed by a windmill. Kerney stripped off his shirt and stuck his head and arms into the clear water, raised up, and started scrubbing off the dried blood with his hands. His moist skin dried almost immediately in the arid heat of the day. He stuck his head in the tank again and splashed water on his chest, shoulders, and back. He came up for air and a voice behind him said, “Remember when we used to go swimming in the stock tanks on Daddy’s Jornada ranch?”

He turned and looked at the woman who stood in front of a three-quarter-ton flatbed truck. “Hello, Julia.”

“Hello, yourself,” Julia Jordan said. “I understand you tried to save somebody who died on the highway.”

Kerney nodded as he gazed at Julia. Although now a bit more full figured, she still retained her good looks, and her laughing eyes, which always seemed to be a bit mocking, hadn’t lost any luster. Her long, curly hair, more gray than dark brown, cascaded onto her shoulders.

“I didn’t help much.”

“You look good with your shirt off,” Julia said slyly. “Care to go skinny-dipping with me?”

“I don’t think so.”

Julia laughed as she glanced at Kerney’s wedding band. “I’m not surprised. You always were the straight-arrow type.”

Quickly, Kerney slipped into his blood-splattered shirt. “Was I, now?”

“My God, were you hurt?”

Kerney buttoned up. “No, it’s not my blood.”

“Do you have a fresh shirt to wear?”

Kerney nodded.

Julia stepped to the three-quarter-ton. “Good. Follow me home. My parents can’t wait to see you. Mom’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm for you. You were always the one friend Johnny had that Mom favored the most. Me too.”

“Why didn’t I know this back then?”

Julia grinned as she climbed into the three-quarter-ton. “I’ve often wondered that myself.”

The drive to the ranch headquarters was a straight shot to low, grassy hills that rolled on toward the mountains. Four houses, all of them white pitch-roofed structures with screened front porches painted in green trim, sat in a large grove of shade trees within easy walking distance of a horse barn. A water tank, windmill, and feed storage bins stood behind the barn next to a large metal shop and garage. Everything about the place was spic and span. Even the heavy equipment parked outside the garage was lined up in a neat row.

Julia stopped in front of the largest house in the compound, a long ranch-style home with a big picture window that looked out on the porch. She led him through the unoccupied front room, a comfortable space filled with art, books, and easy chairs, to a spare room, and left him there to change his shirt. When he returned to the front room, Joe and Bessie greeted him, both smiling broadly.

Bessie wiped her hands on her apron and gave Kerney a hug. She felt like a feather in his arms, so tiny now and stooped of shoulder. The top of her snow-white head barely reached his chest. Joe Jordan’s handshake was hearty and firm. He also was white haired, but still ramrod straight and lean. Wire-rim spectacles sat low on the bridge of his nose, and his face was wind-burned a deep red, accenting the furrows of crow’s feet at the corners of his blue eyes.

Julia stepped out of the kitchen holding a tall glass of water, which Kerney gratefully accepted and quickly drained.

“Since I found him on the ranch,” Julia said with a grin, “can I keep him?”

“Not from the looks of the wedding ring he’s wearing,” Joe replied with a laugh as he herded Kerney into the kitchen.

At the kitchen table Bessie passed around a platter of sliced cold beef, a basket of hot fresh biscuits, a bowl of sauce for the beef, a salad, and a pitcher of lemonade. She’d set the table with her best flatware and linen napkins.

Over lunch Joe questioned Kerney about the fatality on the highway. He answered but left out the gory details.

Joe shook his head as he cut a small piece of beef and dipped it in the dollop of sauce on his plate. “Those Mexicans are so damn poor, not even the fear of death stops them from crossing the border. A neighbor south of here found two dead bodies on his land just last year. A young woman and a middle-aged man.”

“I guess it isn’t a problem that’s going away anytime soon,” Kerney replied.

“Not in my lifetime,” Joe said. “Best we can do is try to keep them off the ranch. Walt Shaw does a pretty good job of that.”

The conversation switched to old times on the Jornada, and they reminisced and caught up. Kerney learned that Bessie had survived breast cancer, Joe had undergone a hip replacement, and Julia was divorced and now dividing her time between the ranch and her house in Tucson.

Kerney told them about Sara and Patrick. Only Joe and Bessie seemed genuinely pleased to hear him talk about his family.

Julia changed the subject as soon as politely possible. “Johnny says you’re ranching up in Santa Fe,” she said.

Kerney noticed the hint of a scowl cross Joe’s face at the mention of his son’s name. “Only in a small way,” he replied. “I’ve partnered with a neighbor to raise and train cutting horses.”

Joe nodded as he passed Kerney the platter of meat. “If you can pay the bills, there’s no better life than ranching.”

“True enough,” Kerney said.

Bessie smiled appreciatively as Kerney forked another slice of beef onto his plate. “I can’t resist your cooking,” he said to her.

After lunch Julia took Kerney on a tour of the ranch headquarters, the sun hot against their backs, the ground warm underfoot. Under a shade tree in front of Julia’s house, Kerney asked if she and Johnny were planning to keep the ranch in the family.

“It’s all mine,” Julia said. “That’s why I’m here so much of the time now.”

“Well, I guess Johnny has his own life to lead.”

Julia leaned against the tree and laughed. “It’s not that, Kerney. No matter how much he makes, money runs through Johnny’s fingers like a sieve. He’s always been that way. Daddy has bailed him out financially time and time again and has never once been repaid. So the deal is, I get the ranch, Johnny gets his debts forgiven, and we divide up what’s left equally.”

“That sounds fair.”

“Johnny doesn’t think so. That’s why he got the production company to film on location at the ranch. He figures the payment Daddy receives will change his mind about cutting him out of the ranch. It won’t.”

“I hope it doesn’t cause you any problems.”

Julia waved away Kerney’s concern. “Johnny will move on to some other scheme. He always does. Come on, I want to show you my little casa.”

The inside of Julia’s house was done up in light, cool shades of beige and ivory upholstered furniture. A choice collection of Navajo textiles, including a large chief’s blanket, were displayed on the living room walls. Kerney could tell that the house had been gutted and completely renovated. A stacked-stone fireplace divided the living room from the dining area, and the kitchen was ultramodern. A professional chef’s stove beneath a copper range hood stood at one end of the room, surrounded by maple cabinets with black marble countertops. A large antique drop-leaf table sat in the middle of the kitchen.

Julia’s master suite contained a king-size four-poster bed and a large Oriental rug that complemented the floral draperies. An alcove with a built-in desk served as a small office and reading area.

In the guest room on the opposite side of the house, Julia said, “Why don’t you come back here after your meeting in Playas with those Hollywood boys and spend the night? I’ll fix you a good meal.”