WILDCAT AND THE MARINE
excerpt!
A scene cut by the editor. It's from the first chapter and shows Jackson making the decision whether or not to return to his hometown of Mayville, North Dakota. I still like it. Let me know what you think. — Jade This scene shows the arrival of Jackson in his hometown of Mayville, North Dakota. My editor thought it could stand on its own without the scene on the left. She was right about a lot of other things, so maybe this too. — Jade “Go ahead. I’ll start with a minnow, but maybe I’ll switch to a lure if I don’t get a bite with those shiners. How about you?”
“Yeah, me, too. It’s early enough that we ought to get some action right away.”
“If we don’t get rained on.”
Jackson studied the wispy cumulus clouds floating high on the western horizon. He shook his head in dubious dissent, remembering how Pop had told him the clouds had to hang lower, darker, and heavy with moisture for rain to threaten. “We could use a good soaking, that’s for sure. The drought has gone on too long.”
“Not this morning, Red. I want to catch some little fishes.”
Jackson laughed. “We’ll catch plenty.”
“I never saw such luck with a hook and line as you have, amigo.”
Jackson snorted. “Not luck, Juan. Skill.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re full of it. You always say that. So, who taught you how to catch fish so good, huh?”
Jackson stared past the boat’s edge, trying to see through the silvery-green water, his face reflected on the mirrored surface. Funny, how much he looked like his father. He jabbed the tip of his rod into the water to break up the image.
“Jackson?”
Jackson reeled in his line, checked the bait, then plunked it over the side of the boat again, letting out about ten feet before setting the stop. His reflection had reformed. He considered breaking it up again, but knew the thought to be foolish. Close beside the image of himself, he could see a hint of a woman’s face formed by the gently tossing waves and a bit of floating weed. The deep green water, limned with silver, reminded him of a pair of emerald eyes that, after all these years, still haunted his dreams. A breeze ruffled his hair as the intrusive memory sent a chill rippling through him, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Abruptly, he tossed the memory aside and said, “I don’t want to.”
“I could deliver that feed out to your place on Saturday, Cat,” Marvin Nordstrom pointed out as he heaved the last bag of feed onto the truck bed.
“I should have called you last week, Marvin. The feed bin is nearly empty. I’d better take it myself.”
Marvin looked dubious. His brief glance traveled up and down her slender figure. “How will you get it unloaded?”
“I’ll manage.” Cat didn’t have the muscles to be a rancher. She knew it and so did Marvin. The place wanted a man to run it, but Cat didn’t have a man and certainly didn’t want one. She’d take care of it by herself, as she always had.
“If you have a problem, call. I’ll have Rafe stop by when he makes his rounds Saturday and unload it for you.”
Turning a grateful smile on the store owner, she said, “Thanks, Marvin. I’ll let you know.”
“Don’tcha go lifting those heavy bags by yourself,” he insisted. “Just yell if you need help. See ya.” The overweight feed store owner backed away, then turned to go into his store.
Cat lifted the tailgate and banged it closed. The metal had taken a beating over the years and needed to be forced into place. The squeal of air brakes startled her. She looked up. Across the street, a dusty Greyhound bus rolled to a halt. She watched as the driver left his seat and, a moment later, returned to it. The bus pulled away from the curb and continued down the street, revealing a lone figure standing beside a drab green duffle.
Her memory of him kept trying to fit over the reality. A tall man with short red hair and wide shoulders returned her stare, not the slim eighteen-year-old boy with his dazzling, wicked smile. That smile had enthralled her the first time she met him. Now, she saw the adult version as he recognized her. Its power hadn’t diminished with time.
“Then why go?”
Reluctance soured his stomach. Juan would pounce on this one. “My father needs me.”
Juan snorted. “Last I heard, you two weren’t even speaking.”
His stomach hurt. Something he’d eaten last night, probably. Certainly not worry for his father or the lingering picture of a girl he’d dated only once. He was immune to both memories. “We still aren’t.”
“Red, am I missing something here? He threw you out and now you’re going back to help him? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Look, Juan. Family is important to me. Just because we haven’t spoken in nine years — almost nine years . . . anyway, I have to. I thought Mexicans believed family was important.”
“Mexicans ain’t no different than anybody else, amigo. Family is important to those who have one. I don’t have one. You don’t have much of one.”
It was Pop’s need that drove him, not the siren call of a girl he barely remembered and had left behind with all the binding restrictions that Engerville laid on him. He wasn’t sure of much, but he was sure of that one thing. “I’m going home.”
“It’s your life. Screw it up if you want to. What about Seattle?”
Jackson let a soft sigh escape. Now that he’d said the words, made the decision, his stomach settled. “This will only take a few weeks. Maybe a month, two at the most. I can make it to Seattle easy by September. I’ll beat you, Juan. Count on it.”
“Jackson, my fine feathered friend, we can’t keep Marty waiting. He told us that. If you miss out on this opportunity, it might be your last. He’d never, ever give you a second chance. Your track record doesn’t exactly encourage second chances.”
“I’ll make it. I have to. I promised Marty— actually, I swore to Marty that absolutely nothing would stand in the way of my being in Seattle on September 1st. There’s nothing to hold me in Engerville once my father is well enough to work the farm again. I’ll meet you there.” He slapped the water with the tip of his rod again, snaring the bit of weed. The spectral face shattered.
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