Lost in Tennessee Read Online Free PDF Page B

leather.
    “You tried. Oh, Lord you tried. We explained to you that the bull didn’t work. You were bound and determined to fix it. You crawled underneath it, asking us to hand you wrenches and things. A crowd gathered around you, cheering you on.” Butch sat up, acting out parts of the evening, laughing to his core, laughing until tears wet his eyes. “It took Hyde and me to pull you away.”
    Kate turned to the picture window, listening to the story. She wished it didn’t sound so damned believable. Who in their right mind would crawl around a bar floor to re-wire a mechanical bull? Butch seemed to get a kick out of it, there was her silver lining. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry?”
    His arms spread across the back of the chair, Butch looked very satisfied. “Don’t apologize. It would ruin the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
    Kate leaned against the arm of the couch and patted Butch’s hand. “In that case, you’re welcome. Why did we sleep on the floor last night? My back aches like I fell down a flight of stairs.”
    “I didn’t think I could carry you up the stairs without both of us taking a tumble.”
    Kate froze with her hand on his. Her sudden fever meant her face would soon be the color of a tomato. “Excuse me. Did you say you carried me?”
    Butch covered her hand, and captured and held on to it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve slept with a woman. I forgot how nice it could be.”
    The intimacy of her hand in his made her heart flutter. A tragically few number of men had incited this type of physical reaction, and ensuing experiences proved disastrous. Short story: the sex hadn’t been worth it.
    Kate extracted her hand to break the contact and changed the subject. “Nice is not how my back would describe it. I need to stretch out.” She inhaled, reaching her fingers to the ceiling, and let her hands fall to the floor in a graceful swan dive. She moved through the sun salutation poses, taking the time to work the kinks out of her back, hips, and shoulders. She looked to the heavens and then floated down to earth.
    Butch pulled the blanket out of her way and tossed it on the couch. “There’s only one bathroom. Do you want to shower first?”
    “No, you go ahead. Hopefully when I finish this, I’ll feel human again.”
    K ate loved the lines of the farmhouse the first time she’d walked up the long drive with Butch. She knew the inside would be just as spectacular. The height of the farmhouse made it appear narrow where, in fact, spacious rooms could house a crowd. Windows on the front and on the left side above the staircase lit the large entryway, bare except for a worn rug in the middle. Straight through, a spacious kitchen with miles of counter contained a table for four under the window to the back yard.
    Thick wood fully trimmed every room, a detail sinfully omitted in most new homes. The craftsmanship of generations gone by lived on in each window and doorway, in the infinite trail of baseboard, in the crown molding that encircled the living room.
    The soft gray of the living room’s wood floors nearly matched the color of Butch’s eyes. A long couch, comfortable armchair, and a few mismatched tables filled the room. The pale walls sported darker patches where pictures used to hang. The brickwork of the fireplace and woodwork of the mantle could be photographed and featured in one of her architectural magazines.
    Kate checked the phone that sat on the floor, plugged into an outlet. She had lucked out that Butch had the same model of phone and an extra charger. With her battery full, the screen lit up, announcing she had missed twenty-one calls. Tom left most with a few from her uncle and cousins. Notably—but not surprisingly—none belonged to her father.
    Kate unplugged the phone, pacing as she dialed. “Hey, Tom, it’s me.”
    “Kate.” Tom said her name in a long exhale. “Where have you been? I called you a dozen times. You know your father