Chapter 1: "Prologue: Two Women"
Even in Reno you wouldn't expect to see such a sight. Not early on a cool spring morning smack in the middle of a college campus. If you looked to the west you might see fresh snow on the mountains in the morning light. If you looked to the left or right you would see college students pouring into, and out of, the handsome old brick buildings of the University of Nevada. But if you were even half awake you would be looking straight ahead at the two young women walking no more than twenty feet in front of you, maybe going the same place you were going, to the cafeteria for some hot coffee and warm donuts. At first glance you might think they were lost. They were dressed as if they were looking for a couple of fast horses to ride, either on a ranch or racing barrels at the rodeo. The county fairgrounds were right next to the university, so the rodeo theory would tempt you. But the two women were carrying books, and were laughing too much to be lost.
The blonde, the shorter of the two, did have the big hair that was very fashionable among rodeo queens at one time. Whoever did her hair knew everything there was to know about volume. You would notice the hair right away, and then you would see those hands of hers moving and punctuating every sentence she spoke, and it was all exclamation points, no little commas. So before you reached the coffee and donuts, you might be betting on "rodeo queen goes to college," and feeling pretty sure of your bet.
The other woman, also dressed in jeans, a cowgirl shirt, and boots, was less of a challenge. A few inches taller than her blonde friend, she featured straight dark hair, fewer curves, and quieter hands. But the first thing you would notice about her was the guitar she carried so casually over her back, as if it were an integral part of her, waiting patiently for its mistress to pay it some attention. You would like to be nearby when she did play a song on it, probably some country western song, leaning more toward the western side.
If you walked faster you might get a closer look at the textbooks the two women were carrying, although the blonde kept waving hers around kind of wildly and you wouldn't want to be too close if it ever flew out of her grasp. With a little luck, and good eyesight, you might discover the book's title, The History of Music. Not a history of music, but THE history of music, as if there were only one worth reading. An ambitious subject for just one book. How much room, if any, would it devote to country western music? And how much room for, say, Willie Nelson, or Patsy Cline?
You might wonder why the two young women would get up so early for a whole semester to hear about the history of music in the dusty centuries past, when they might be riding fast horses or chasing cowboys instead. Those textbooks were an intriguing clue.
By the time you reached the coffee and donuts you'd be trying to imagine what lead up to this moment. What past decisions would have brought these two women to this place and time? Reno girls, perhaps, in love with horses and rodeo and western music and maybe cowboys. But not entirely satisfied. Looking for something else and trying their hands at a college course. The brunette with the guitar would naturally consider music courses. But the rodeo queen? Maybe she only saw the word "music" in the course title and thought about her favorite songs and thought that would be fun to take. Or perhaps she had known the other woman before and wanted to be in the same class with her friend.
If you were lucky you
might find an empty table next to the one where the two women had just sat
down, an observation point where you could learn more about them. A pleasant
way to spend an hour before your next class. Or, who knows, maybe the start
of something. Like picking up a new book and losing yourself in it for a while.
Or, better yet, finding yourself.
You should have been there the day Lacey Anderson walked into Parker's hunting for some cowgirl clothes because someone at her new law firm had told her she wasn't in San Francisco any more and she would need some western wear if she wanted to be a Reno lawyer. She looked lost. I watched her from behind the counter. At Parker's we generally let folks browse a while before we offer to help. She was a city girl all right, probably right at home at Macy's and those fancy downtown emporiums, but I doubt she had ever set foot in a big western store.
Then she spotted Cody, the new kid who sure looked like a cowboy and would be able to help her, but what she didn't know was Cody had just arrived a couple weeks before from some town in Iowa. He knew a lot about corn and pigs but not much about horses, except that he wanted to be cowboy in the worst way and he already had his cowboy clothes, but of course Lacey thought he was a real cowboy and that's where all the trouble began.
I studied Lacey from the moment she entered the store, but then Donna Cooper walked in, her big blonde curly hair lighting up the place, and she began showing me her new rodeo wave, the one she had been perfecting for months so she could become the next Miss Reno Rodeo. Typical. All day nothing happening and then bang, we had two shows going on at once.
"Charley Meyers," Donna said, looking so serious, "you've seen lots of rodeo queens, tell me if you've ever seen one wave like this." Donna thinks I'm an expert at anything to do with cowboys and rodeo. It's true I've worked on ranches most of my forty-five years, and done my share of rodeo. Now I'm just a part-time or seasonal cowboy, like a lot of folks, and working at Parker's gives me a steady income.
"Never saw that wave before," I said. "I like the way you put your whole body into it." Donna flashed me that megabucks smile of hers. Then she said something about the Queen of England needing to work on her wave, and I told her to try on a new white hat that had just come in and practice in front of a full-length mirror. Any other day I could have stayed there and talked to Donna for hours. Just then, however, the San Francisco lawyer lady was walking up to Cody and I didn't want to miss anything.
I hustled over near the aisle where Cody was straightening some shirts, pretending I was looking for something. I got there just in time and didn't miss a word. The only problem I had was trying not to laugh at those two youngsters.
"Excuse me, do you work here?" Lacey said to Cody. Her voice would have melted the butter you just pulled out of the freezer. I liked the way her big city perfume mixed with the leather and hardwood smells of Parker's.
Cody stopped fussing with the shirts and turned around. There in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch, stood a young woman with long legs, straight dark hair of medium length, and green eyes. She wore a navy business suit and would have been properly dressed for an appointment with a very conservative, very important client. She looked so out of place, Cody must have thought she was looking for something for a friend, or maybe had wandered into the wrong store.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, in that flat Midwestern voice that was all heartland and good manners. Somebody had raised him right.
"I need some Western clothes," she began.
"Yes, ma'am?" he encouraged her, aware now that she was not in the wrong establishment.
"Well," she continued, "you see, I need everything."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed with her, not knowing what to say to this intriguing customer. Cody had settled into his new job and surroundings and now, after a month in Reno, felt like one of the townspeople, if not a real cowboy yet. He had waited on some cowboys, and lots of folks dressed like cowboys, but never before today someone in such total need of help.
"I don't know where to start," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," he said without thinking. Face to face with a vision, the kid was suffering from a bad case of brain lock.
"Is 'Yes, ma'am' all you can say?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," he said. They both laughed. This broke the ice
"OK," she said, "I'll tell you the whole sad story. I'm not a cowgirl."
This almost cracked him up, but he managed to keep it down to a big grin. The young woman grinned back. She had begun her confession, there was no escape now, and so she pushed on, hoping that the young cowboy would keep grinning and not laugh at her.
"You see, I'm from San Francisco and the law firm I work for there has opened a new office in Reno, and they asked me to transfer here, and I've been here just a couple of days and they say I will need to wear Western clothes for some occasions, everybody does, even lawyers, but they promised that I won't have to ride a horse if I don't want to." She stopped, out of breath and doubtless feeling more than a little foolish.
"No problem, ma'am," Cody said to make her feel at ease. The people at Parker's, as Cody had learned the first day, never rushed a customer or made them feel unimportant. In fact, Cody was enjoying this moment and wanted it to last. The next thing the customer said was music to his ears.
"You're a cowboy," she said, as if stating the obvious, "so I guess I need all the stuff you're wearing, only in a smaller size and more feminine." Her eyes pleaded for understanding, the words had come out a little strange.
Cody was so impressed by the first part of her statement that he hardly noticed the rest of it. He gave the attractive young city lady his best cowboy grin and decided to take charge.
"Well, ma'am, let's move over to the ladies' side of the store and see what we can find. Let's look for a hat first. If you get the right one, everything else will kind of follow naturally. By the way, my name is Cody West, in case you need to visit us again." The cowboy name would close the deal, Cody knew, and she would never guess he was only a month out of the Iowa cornfields.
I didn't want to miss a word of this, so I followed Cody and Lacey over to the other side. By now Donna Cooper had moved on to a big three-way mirror and was practicing her rodeo queen wave again and checking out the profiles. Donna was missing the Cody and Lacey show, but when she was practicing her wave she could shut out the whole world. The girl knew all about focus.
Lacey smiled when she heard Cody's name. "Thanks, Cody," she said, visibly relieved that he would satisfy her Western clothing needs and she could end her embarrassing confession. "My name is Lacey Anderson. Pleased to meet you." The damsel in distress offered her hand to this polite young knight of the high desert.
"Lacey," he said as he shook her hand, "nice name. Sounds like a genuine cowgirl name. Are you sure you're a San Francisco lawyer?"
"Oh yes, two years out of law school and never been close to a horse. My mother wanted a feminine name for me, but I was a real tomboy as a kid. I never thought of my name as a cowgirl name."
"Well," Cody said as he began to show her some Western hats, "I think that names are mighty important." Cody had picked up the "mighty" part watching too many cowboy movies. "I believe you can discover someone's destiny just by knowing their name."
"Could be," Lacey offered. How could she argue with this tall cowboy who was going to get her outfitted and share some authentic cowboy wisdom at the same time?
"Sure," Cody continued, "take my name, for instance. With a name like mine, I couldn't be anything but a cowboy, could I?" Cody knew that she could never forget this talkative cowboy with the genuine cowboy name.
"I guess not," said Lacey. "So I would bet you're working here to get a discount on the cowboy stuff."
"Well yes, and helping out the fellows here. Most of the year I work with horses and cattle outside town." Where did Cody come up with that lie?
"Oh," she asked, "do you have your own ranch?"
"No, I work with some friends, do whatever needs doing," he replied vaguely, then quickly changed the subject. "Let's try this black hat on you." He must have thought his cowboy inventions would be harmless, but now they were making him nervous. He looked down at his boots for a moment, as if he'd been careless and just stepped in a big cow pie.
Before long Lacey Anderson the San Francisco lawyer had been transformed into Lacey Anderson the Reno lawyer, ready for any Western social occasion. She had the black hat with the thin silver band, the calfskin Justin boots, the dress jeans, a couple of sharp cowgirl shirts, and a cowgirl belt with a shiny silver buckle. Inspecting her transformation in a full-length mirror that stood against the wall next to the ladies' hats, she appeared to struggle to recognize herself. "What would my friends in San Francisco say if they could see me now?" she chuckled.
At the same time Cody West was admiring his cowgirl creation. "Well, Lacey, I guess you're living up to your name."
"Not so fast," she smiled. "I have the clothes but that doesn't make me a cowgirl. I bet you could teach me a lot about horses and cattle, show me how to ride."
"Yes, ma'am," Cody said slowly, retreating suddenly to his polite manner. Too much talking had quickly landed him in a ticklish position. Was it too late to escape?
Lacey stepped closer. "Well, Mr. Cody West, I know your name and I know where you work. And you think I'm destined to be a cowgirl. I'm going to make you prove it to me one of these days."
"Yes, ma'am." Cody's voice was barely audible.
Lacey paid for her cowgirl duds, deciding to keep them on rather than change again, then marched proudly to the front door of Parker's famous Western store. Before she disappeared, though, she turned and waved at her new cowboy acquaintance. It was a big day for waves at Parker's. Lacey's own wave was like the friendly salute of a rodeo queen as she rides her horse at full gallop into the arena, looking her best and knowing it. Cody waved back, but his wave was more like that of the dude in the stands who waves back at the rodeo queen but wonders to himself, "Who is this amazing creature, and why is she going so fast?"
Once Lacey disappeared I was able
to turn my full attention back to Donna Cooper. She was still at the three-way
mirror, but she had stopped working on the wave. Now it was the smile. She
faced the mirror, pulled her hat low, and looked down at the floor. There
she stood, hands on hips, and paused for one dramatic moment before slowly
raising her head and flashing that smile of hers. God help the judges at the
rodeo queen pageant. They'd be wise to whip out their sunglasses before Donna
made her entrance.