Fannin's Flame

Fannin felt Last’s sincerity blazing from his eyes.

“And if you don’t know what they say about nosey, interfering mothers-in-law, you can dial up Frisco Joe and ask him what he had to do to get away from her when he was laid up with a busted leg.”

“I remember,” Fannin muttered.

“And mothers-in-law.” Last shuddered, waving his hands for emphasis. “They are the fount of the future. You can see everything in that fount. Look closely, bro. That’s what your bride would look like someday.”

Fannin blinked at Last’s intensity.

“And you know what they say about getting along with the in-laws and the out-laws. If you did such a thing, Fannin, that would put Helga in our family forever. Forever. She’d be ours.” Last hung his head dramatically. “I could not endure it.”

Fannin felt bad for his brother, even though he was a maestro of soap opera effects—until Last kicked at something on the ground.

“What’s this?” Last asked, turning over a piece of red, lacy stuff on the ground with his boot.

“Nothing,” Fannin said, bending to scoop Kelly’s errant thong into his pocket.

“Looked like a…thong to me,” Last said, his voice amazed. “Wouldn’t that be strange? You see shoes all the time sitting in the middle of the road, sometimes one, sometimes two, and I always wonder who they belong to. Who so carelessly abandoned them?”

Kelly came walking back over to the truck with Helga, and Fannin growled, “Last, shut up.”

“Seriously. Someone needs to do a study on how shoes get into roads, particularly at intersections in big cities. They’re almost a tourist attraction in themselves. Sometimes they’re hanging from telephone wires like they just got up there by themselves. I know the world is changing now that it’s undergarments in the road….”

Kelly’s eyes went wide, and Fannin was relieved that Helga didn’t speak enough English to understand. “Shut up, Last,” he reiterated, this time his voice steely.

And then Last did shut up, his eyes first on Fannin because of the tone and then sliding to Kelly’s mortified expression. “Oh, brother,” Last said. “Aha. I have once again allowed my philosophical side to get the best of me. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go attach myself to the towing hitch.”

He left. Fannin felt Kelly looking at him, but he couldn’t look at her—not with her mother standing next to her and Kelly’s red lace burning in his pocket like the world’s worst-kept secret.

SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS were easily solved once they got back to the house. Helga slept in quarters in the main house and Kelly would sleep with her mother. Only Mason remained at the big house, with Laredo, Tex and Frisco Joe having vacated the premises upon their marriages.

“You are staying awhile?” Helga asked her daughter, comfortable with chatting now that they were in her room and could speak German.

“Only one day,” Kelly replied. “I don’t have time off, and Julia’s been out sick.” She started to say that Fannin had ordered a personal assistant, and she’d chosen to fill the job since it was a Friday and wouldn’t hurt for her to be gone, but as far as Helga was concerned, Kelly was here to see her.

“Oh, I miss you,” her mother said.

“For Christmas, I have three days to spend with you. You’re going to come to my house,” Kelly promised.

“Three days?”

“Julia’s sick and has been taking extra days off to get her Christmas shopping done. The office hasn’t been that busy. So she said I could take three days over the holidays.”

“How will I get to Diamond?”

“I’ll come and get you. Don’t worry, Mother. You just tell Mason you need to come home for Christmas. We’re going to do lots of baking.”

“Baking.” Helga smiled. “It will be nice for a change to cook for someone who likes what I make.”

Kelly frowned. “I know you’ve been homesick.”

Her mother nodded. “Yes. I’m getting used to it here. But the boys are wild.” She gestured with her hands. “They are too long without good women.”

Kelly winced. “Is Fannin wild?”

Helga shrugged. “They’re all bad boys. Except Mason. He’s good. Sometimes.” She laughed.

“Sometimes?”

“I think so. He’s so quiet, his heart is all bottled up inside him.”

“I love you, Mama,” Kelly said, her insides aching for her mother. Even though Helga was speaking in a scolding tone about the brothers, Kelly could see that her mother cared about them, like rowdy chicks she wanted to keep under her wing.

Of course, that’s probably not what they wanted.

“I feel bad that I sent you here, Mama, and that you’re not happy. We have other ladies at the agency we could send. Why don’t you come home and stay with me for a while? We’ll find you another job that you’ll like better. Maybe even one in Diamond?”

“I can’t.” Helga looked down at her fingers. “The lady next door is going to have a baby. She’s a real nice girl. Mimi.”

“I remember seeing Mimi’s name. She’s the one who called about a housekeeper.”

“Yes. She’s over here all the time. I take care of her father when Mimi needs help.”

Kelly frowned. “You’re not really supposed to be doing two jobs, Mama.”

“I don’t mind. I like Mimi.” Helga sighed. “I think Mason is in love with Mimi. I think she’s in love with him, too.”

“But she’s married to someone else?” Kelly asked.

“Yes, and having a baby.” Helga’s eyes glowed. “A Christmas baby. I should be here to help her.”

“You should be home letting me take care of you,” Kelly said sternly, realizing for the first time just how much work her mother had to do at this ranch. “Mama, listen, I got a letter from Dad’s estate—”

Helga held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about your father. He left me and you alone in Ireland. I made my way here. I learn English, I get some jobs, I raise my daughter. I do not want to talk about your father. He never tried to see you after we left Ireland. I do not care about him.”

“Mama, he left me his house,” Kelly said miserably. “I think I may go see it someday.”

Helga sniffed.

“You’ve seen Germany, Ireland, much of Europe,” Kelly said. “I’ve not been out of the country since I was a little girl. I want to see where my father lived. I’m sorry, Mama. I know that’s hard for you. But I just need to know who I am.”

“I know who you are. You are my baby,” Helga said sternly.

“I know, Mama. But I need to connect with my roots.” She clasped her mother’s hands.

“Your roots never came to you,” Helga said stubbornly. “You are like a potato. You grow your own shoots.”

Kelly dropped her gaze. Her mother could have such a one-track mind. She loved her dearly, but she could definitely see how Helga and the Jefferson men might butt heads. “You go to sleep, Mama. I’m going to stay up and read for a while.”