Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Chapter Three and a Half: An Understanding (continued)

Hoot leaned back in the Queen Anne sitting chair and looked out on the San Juan River. The Hot Springs Inn wasn't cheap but Hoot was fairly sure if his pa was out looking for him, he'd never suspect Hoot of staying there. It was what he'd call hoity-toity.

The Hot Springs Inn was built just after the turn of the century by a Frenchman named Henri Didier. He had wanted to take advantage of the increased lumbering in the area and the fact that A. T. Sullenberger had just finished a railroad spur to connect up with the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. He picked a prime location just a stone's toss from the Great Pagosa Hot Springs and built what soon became the most popular and expensive hotel in town. Hoot knew nothing of the history, but he knew his dad, and he knew his old man would never step foot in that pretentious hotel.

Hoot took a deep breath and kicked off his boots. It had been a long day. He could smell the sulphur and salt of the springs. He thought it was probably true that the word Pagosa really meant stinky water. That would be just like the Utes to call it something like that. After a few moments of silence, Hoot heard a small tap on the door. He'd been expecting it. He lifted himself out of his chair, walked to the door and peeked carefully out the peephole into the wide hall. Convinced that his father wasn't poised to barge in on him, Hoot opened the door and pulled Sally Forester quickly inside with him.

"A little on edge, are we, Hoot?" Sally giggled as she stumbled into the dimly lit room.

Before Hoot could respond, he couldn't help but notice the long silky-white legs peeking out through the slit in her elegant peach dress. She really was stunning.

"Not anymore," he stuttered like a schoolboy at a peep show as he put his arm around her thin waist and drew her close. "You're dressed up all fancy," he observed. She smelled as good as she looked. He'd been with Sally for almost six months, yet she always surprised him.

"Well, its not every day a girl gets invited to the Hot Springs," she said. "Especially not by a boy like you, Hoot Peterson."

Hoot smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but Sally pulled away and brought her finger to her lips.

"There'll be time enough for that," she teased.

Defeated, but undeterred, Hoot tried again to lasso the spunky filly, but found her quite determined to resist his advances. Finally, Hoot admitted defeat and seated himself in the same Queen Anne chair that he'd just vacated. Sally hopped off to investigate the bath room.

"You know I'm leavin' tomorrow, don't ya?" Hoot yelled above the noise of the faucet Sally had just turned on.

"Did you tell your pa?" Sally yelled back.

Hoot's shoulders sagged and a sullen expression fought its way on to his face. "You women are all the same," he snapped. "You all can't help but be my mother. No, I didn't tell him, and, you know what, Sally? I ain't gonna! He's just gonna have to deal with the fact that I left without telling him."

Sally exited the bathroom and stood in the doorway irritated. "Are you done yet?"

Ashamed at his outburst, Hoot just nodded.

"You know I saw him this morning," Sally said.

"My pa?" Hoot asked.

"No, Santa Claus, you dolt," she said as she winked and slid onto his lap. "Of course, your pa. He was up at Lucy's gambling."

Again, Hoot stiffened up at the mention of his father. "You didn't tell him I was leavin' did you?"

Sally shook her head and kissed Hoot gently on the forehead.

"I was busy all morning working, honey," she lied. "I hardly had time to talk to him about anything."

Hoot slid his hand up Sally's back and rested it on her shoulder. "Thanks," he whispered. "I know I should have told him but it all happened so fast."

"You know I didn't tell my mother neither, when I come up here from Aztec."

"You mean when you and Cole McBride moved up here?" Hoot suddenly felt jealous. It took just one mention of Aztec to set him off.

Sally feigned surprise and hurt and then responded to Hoot's accusation like a coyote trapped in a corner. "Is that how you want this to go, tonight, Hoot? You want to sit here and argue about my relationship with Cole McBride? You know I left him more than a year ago. You know that as well as you know me, Hoot Peterson. Now is that how you want to leave things with me, tonight?"

Hoot again felt ashamed. He leaned over and cupped his face in his hands. He could feel the tears welling up inside him, but he didn't want to cry. He didn't want to seem weak. The pressure of the last several hours was too much to bear, though, and he soon felt a warm tear trickle down his cheek. "No," he sobbed.

Sally coolly placed her hand on Hoot's shoulder and kneeled down next to him in the chair.

"Hoot, baby, its all right," she began. "It's really all right. I'm sorry I exploded, baby. Let me make it up to you. Let's go get in bed. I'll make it all better."

Sally then helped Hoot to his feet and led him to the four-poster bed. The tables had been turned.

1 Comments:

Blogger Kim said...

a love scene??

6:41 PM  

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