Love Drunk Cowboy Read Online Free PDF

said that they’d hire a damn good plastic surgeon if that ever happened. She didn’t even know what a plastic surgeon was and wondered that day why a doctor would ever work on plastic people.
    She went from the desk to the kitchen. The sink was on the right-hand side with a window above it looking out over acres and acres of freshly plowed earth. Cabinets running the length of the west wall with the bar made an L-shaped leg. The refrigerator was on the east wall: one of those old rounded top things that Granny said was irreplaceable because it didn’t circulate air like the new ones, therefore it didn’t circulate odors. Trash can to the right of the refrigerator. Granny said that way the icebox, as she always called it, hid the ugly thing from anyone sitting in the living room. A sugar bowl, salt and pepper shakers, and a bottle of pepper vinegar was arranged in the middle of a chrome-legged table with a red top. Four red padded chairs were pushed up under the table. A ceiling fan above the table was turning, slowly stirring the breeze from the windows into the kitchen.
    Red and white checkered curtains hung on the window above the sink with matching ones on the back door window that led out into the garage. Austin stared at that window for a long time, trying to figure out if they’d built the garage years after they’d put up the house, since the door had a window. Probably so, since Granny would have needed a place to store her extra stuff after a few years of marriage. She’d always had a penchant for keeping every single thing that came through the front door.
    She started a pot of coffee and opened the refrigerator to find it filled with crates and crates of eggs. She counted twelve with two dozen eggs in each one. That was twenty-four dozen eggs. Why on earth would there be more than two hundred eggs in the refrigerator?
    “Easter!” she moaned.
    Granny always ordered eggs for the hunt. She’d gotten them from Martin’s Grocery down past the school. It was the only one in town other than the Mini-Mart, a convenience store that also sold gas and diesel.
    “What am I going to do with all these eggs? And why are they here? Granny’s been gone six months. Surely she didn’t order them before she died. I’ll call Pearlita and see if she knows who will take them off my hands tomorrow, but right now I’ve got to go to the bank as soon as my hired hands get in here and sign the checks.” She talked to herself as she listened to the gurgling sounds of the ancient percolator.
    Her grandmother had hated the newfangled drip machines and had said that they were the beginning of the ruination of decent coffee. Give her a good percolator and plenty of strong dark roast coffee to go in it and they could take all the fancy machines at Walmart and bury them in the nearest landfill or cram them up their asses. She didn’t care which just so long as they didn’t expect her to use one of the gadgets.
    A gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present. She motioned for Felix and the other men to come inside. They lined up right inside the door, hats in hands, and waited. She brought the checks over to them and handed Felix the ink pen. He went to the bar and laid his check down, signed the back, and left it lying. The rest of the men followed his example just like they did every Friday.
    “Would you all like a cup of coffee? Will the bank know the right place to send the money?” Austin asked.
    “We are fine and Miz Verline always took care of it for us so I hope they know what to do,” Felix said.
    “Okay. I want you guys to know that I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the place but I appreciate you staying on until I get it figured out. I gave you each a ten dollar raise. Do you want that brought to you or sent home?”
    “Please bring it back to us. Our families will be looking for a set amount. We will take care of the rest and thank you,” Felix said, then fired off rapid Spanish to the