Chapter Two
2166 Words
Chapter Two
Collin
September 1966 – Lubbock, Texas
“Guns up!” I held my hands up, pointing my finger to the sky, just like the rest of the people in the crowded stadium as the Red Riders took the football field. My last year at Texas Tech University would be one to remember, I’d make damn sure of that.
One year away from earning a bachelor’s degree in Agriculture, I was well on my way to making my father proud. That was the mission—make Daddy proud.
My father was very exacting—he demanded certain things of me. And if I failed him, I got my a*s handed to me. He’d taught me to be tough and unrelenting in anything I did. And so far, it had paid off.
I’d made good grades and got my name on the Dean’s list. That had earned me a nice new truck from my father. When I went back home at the end of the school year and handed him my diploma, I knew I’d earn even more.
Managing the ranch my grandfather had built was my ultimate goal. My father would finally show me how everything worked. I’d been taught how to take care of the cattle, but I hadn’t been taught the business part of the ranch. I was eager to get to that.
During the summer break, my parents had spoken a lot about my future—about how it was time for me to find a good woman from a good family and settle down.
There was a girl back home who’d taken my heart. But she wasn’t marriage material in my father’s eyes. She came from the wrong side of town. Her family was poor, and her father a drunk. Not the kind of people my father wanted attached to the Gentry family name.
It wasn’t easy to find the right woman to marry when I still had that girl on my mind. But I knew I had to get on the ball, or my father would be disappointed. And when Daddy was disappointed, things got really hard for me.
“Excuse me, please,” a feminine voice spoke up beside me, making me look away from the football game. She moved to the seat on my other side, a smile on her pretty face. She had a creamy ivory complexion, bright blue eyes, and blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail. “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you by asking lots of questions about the game. Even though I don’t understand it at all.” She smoothed out her denim skirt, running her hands along her bottom to tuck it under before sitting down.
A white, button-down shirt, starched and ironed, was tucked into the waistline of a skirt that fell down past her knees, even when she sat down. She looked the part of a college girl. She looked the part of a nice girl from a nice family.
I didn’t say anything to her, though, just gave her a nod, then looked back to the football field. A breeze blew past her, sending a fresh scent to my nose. She smelled nice too. A nice girl from a nice family, who smelled nice.
“I haven’t seen you around here before.” I looked at her for only a moments and then quickly looked back at the field.
“I’ve just transferred here. I’ve been going to the University of Texas in Austin. But my father’s company moved him to the Lubbock office. My parents haven’t allowed me to live on campus, so I had to come with them up here. Daddy told me to go to a football game, so I could get to know people.”
I hadn’t asked for her life story. But I wasn’t going to say that to her. “I’m Collin Gentry, from Carthage.”
“Oh, how silly of me.” She held out her hand as if she wanted to shake mine.
I looked at her hand, then took it, shaking it. “Why’s that?”
“I haven’t told you my name yet,” she said as she laughed a little. “I’m Fiona Walton, currently from Lubbock, formerly from Austin. Isn’t Carthage around the Dallas area?”
“It’s about two and a half hours from Dallas, but it’s the nearest big city. We’ve got a ranch. That’s why I’m going to school here. I’m getting a bachelor’s in ag.”
“Well, that makes perfect sense if you’re a rancher. I’m getting a bachelor’s in education so I can become a teacher.”
She looked like someone who’d become a teacher. And teaching was a noble profession. “I think you’d make an excellent teacher.”
“Thank you. I think I will too. I adore children.” She ran her hand over her ponytail. The sunlight made the golden strands sparkle.
“I’ve never been around children to know if I like them or not.”
She laughed, and the sound made me smile. “You’re funny.”
I wasn’t trying to be funny. But I liked her laugh. “Am I?”
A kid came into the stands with a box hanging around his neck filled with sodas, popcorn, and hotdogs. I held up two fingers, and he came my way. “What can I get ya, mister?”
“Two dogs, a bag of that popcorn, and a couple of sodas.” I took the first soda he handed me and gave it to Fiona.
“Oh, for me?” She took the drink as she smiled. “Well, thank you, Collin Gentry.”
I handed her one of the hotdogs too, and then put the popcorn bag in her lap. “Don’t mention it, Fiona.”
Biting into the warm hotdog, I realized I liked the way I felt with her. It was an easy feeling. We sat there, watching the game and eating without saying a word for a long time. And that was okay.
Our team was losing pretty badly when the quarterback caught the ball and ran for a touchdown. Everyone stood up, cheering him on—even Fiona. “Go, go, go!”
For a girl who didn’t understand the game, she’d caught on quickly. When our team scored the touchdown, the crowd went wild. There was no way they could win the game, but at least now there would be a number on the scoreboard instead of a big fat goose egg.
As we sat back down, I opened my mouth, and out came words I hadn’t thought of saying. “Wanna go get a chocolate malt and some fries when this is over?”
“Sure.” Her cheeks went a nice shade of pink. “That sounds yummy.”
“There’s this little hole-in-the-wall café. It’s got good cheeseburgers too. If you’re hungry.”
“I’m sure I will be by the time the game is over.” The stadium lights came on as the sun had almost set, making her blue eyes sparkle.
Mom would like her.
Seeing as I wasn’t into wasting my time on any woman, I had a few things I had to know about Fiona before I went any further. “You goin’ to church in the morning?”
“With my family, yes.” She winked at me. “The First Baptist Church downtown.”
She’s passed the religion test.
“That’s nice.”
“Will you be there?” she asked.
“Me?” I didn’t go to church unless my parents made me.
“Yes, you.”
“Well, no.”
“I see.”
On to the next one. It wasn’t easy to ask a question about one’s political choice, so coming up with that wasn’t easy. After a few minutes of thinking hard about it, I finally said, “So, a Texan in the White House.”
Her eyes cut to me as her lips pulled up to one side. “You’re referring to President Lyndon B. Johnson?”
“Yes.” I didn’t exactly know how to say it, but knew I had to figure that out. “What do you think about him?”
“I think he’s done a wonderful job. I voted for him over Barry Goldwater in the sixty-four election.”
Another correct answer.
She was nearing a perfect score. “You said you moved here because of your father’s job. What does he do?”
“My father’s an investment banker.”
Score!
“Good job.”
“It is a pretty good job.” She smiled at me as her eyes twinkled. “You’re a rancher, which is a good job as well. How’d you vote in the last election?”
“For the man who won.” I knew she was onto me. I grinned at her. “And I’m a Baptist too. Christmas and Easter, I take the back pew while Momma and Daddy take their seats up front, as usual.”
“Yes, my family likes to sit up front too. I sit with them.” She looked at me for a long moment as I kept staring straight ahead. “It would be nice to see you in church tomorrow, Collin. I’ll save you a seat right next to me—just in case you decide to come.”
She seemed to be checking off boxes the same way I was. I knew if I didn’t go to church the next day, she’d never give me the time of day again. If I went to church, she’d probably give me all the attention I could handle.
“Who knows, you might just see me there, sittin’ next to you tomorrow morning. I assume services start at ten and end around noon? We could get lunch afterward.”
“My mother always puts a roast on before we leave for church. So, you could come to our home for lunch.”
We were setting up dates left and right. And, for once, no one would be angry or upset with me over who I was dating. For once, I could take my girl out in public without fear of my father finding out and tanning my hide. For once, I wouldn’t have to hide my relationship. “It’s been a while since I had a good home-cooked meal.”
“My mother is a wonderful cook. I’m not too bad myself either.”
And she can cook too?
“I bet you are. What’ll you be making for tomorrow’s lunch?”
“I think I’ll make some black-eyed peas and a pan of cornbread.”
I have hit the jackpot!
But there was one thing I had to know first. “Do you add sugar to your cornbread?”
“Never.”
And we have a winner!
“Good. I hate when people make the cornbread sweet. It makes it taste like cake, and who wants to have cake with their meal? Not me.”
“I hope you like sweet tea. Mom always makes that. She serves it over plenty of ice, too.”
This girl is almost too good to be true.
“What’s a meal without ice-cold sweet tea?”
“I know.” She laughed again.
I couldn’t help but smile at her. She was perfect. She’d make any man proud to call her his.
My father would be proud if I brought this little filly home to the ranch. Momma would adore her too. And me—well, I would like her. She was nice. Pretty. Wholesome.
Those weren’t things I particularly looked for in a woman. I usually liked a bit more excitement—some darkness instead of pure-white purity. But my father wouldn’t allow that. So, I would give him what he wanted. And I could be happy enough with a woman like Fiona.
Happy enough was better than nothing. Happy enough was something I could build a life around.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to have it all. Maybe no one was. But I could have a nice life with this nice girl. We’d have some nice-looking kids, too. Kids that our families would accept.
The girl I had left behind had given up so much for me, and here I was, looking at this pretty young woman with thoughts of marriage and raising a family with her. Guilt wasn’t a thing I often felt, but as I thought about how hurt she’d be when I went back to Carthage with a wife, guilt welled up inside of me.
My father’s voice echoed in my brain, “Time to grow up and do the responsible adult thing, Collin. Leave the past where it belongs. Leave your sinful ways behind you, and go into the future with a good woman. A woman the whole family will proudly call a Gentry.”
I can do wholesome—I think. df
- Writer
