by Jordan Marie
“But, that’s crazy. What are you going to do if they bring you more strawberries?”
“I’m hoping considering the time of the year and all, you might not have anymore?”
I grit my teeth because I have quite a few more in my greenhouse. Jansen reads my face quickly.
“I guess, I better stock up on allergy meds,” he says with a weary sigh.
“I…I’ll get rid of them.”
“Nah. I wouldn’t ask you to do that. You work hard in that greenhouse. In fact, you work hard from sun up to sun down. You need to learn to relax a little.”
“What’s that old saying? I’ll rest when I’m—”
“Dead,” he adds, with a small laugh. “Still, you need to enjoy time with your kids. I know you’ve been working extra because of money, but you need to take some time to enjoy life instead of making yourself old before your time.”
“There are days, Mr. Reed, that I feel ancient.”
“Mr. Reed was my dad. Call me Jansen.”
“Jansen,” I murmur and like I’m some damn school girl—not a woman almost forty—I can feel heat rise on my face.
“I like that,” he says and I start to ask him what, but I don’t. Maybe, I’m afraid of his answer.
“Are you really going to Green’s ballgame this weekend?”
“I was planning on it. Is that okay? I know you asked me not to get around your kids, but—”
“I say a lot of things when I’m mad, and most of them are foolish. It would mean a lot if you go to Green’s game. To him, I mean. It would mean a lot to him.”
I stumble on the words, feeling like a silly school girl.
“Then, if you’re sure, I’ll definitely be there.”
“Sounds good. I guess I’ll head back to the house… Uh… with my cake.”
“I’m sorry, Ida Sue…”
“Don’t be. The kids will eat it after dinner tonight, it will be gone before you blink. I still feel bad…. Uh… Would you… I mean, you don’t have to… but, you’re more than welcome to come up to the house and have dinner with us.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Your kids might think I’ve set my cap for you.”
“We’ll make it clear you haven’t,” I tell him.
“It might encourage their matchmaking…” he warns.
“I’m brave if you are.”
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he says. I’m almost out the door when a thought occurs to me.
“Mr. Ree—”
“Jansen,” he corrects.
“Jansen, uh… are you allergic to apples?”
“I love apples,” he says, looking at me strangely.
“Good to know,” I respond. I turn to leave, and I have the strangest urge to skip all the way to the house.
I resist.
Barely.
15
Jansen
I could almost allow myself to pretend that this was my life. It’s certainly the life I always imagined. A house full of loud children. A woman—a good woman—cooking dinner and laughing, clearly showing she loves her kids. It would be good to pretend.
Just for a night.
This is not for me, though. It was never in the cards. I need to remember these kids aren’t mine. This home is not mine and that woman… that woman is definitely not mine. The problem is, the more I try to remind myself of that fact, the more I want to ignore it.
“Mr. Reed? Do you want more pie?”
I look up as Ida Sue asks me that question. My stomach is about to bust, I ate so damn much. The fact that she made an apple pie after already having a cake though, makes me smile at her. She made that damn pie for me and I have to admit that it’s the best tasting one I ever had.
“I couldn’t hold another bite, but I might take one with me, if it’s not too much trouble.”
She smiles, doesn’t reply, but a man could get used to the warmth in her eyes. I rub the side of my jaw, letting my fingers scratch through the scruff. I don’t want to leave, but I know I need to. Ida Sue is one hell of a woman. Would it be so bad to claim her as mine? Take care of her and her kids? She needs someone. This ranch might not be mine, these kids aren’t mine, but they need someone.
Why couldn’t I be that person?
Ida Sue may deserve better than a broken-down, old cow poke, but I could bust my ass and make this ranch operable again. With some luck, prayers and hard work it could make money. It’s a daunting challenge, sure. But, if Ida Sue was the reward, her and these crazy kids, it’d be more than worth it.
“Mom, do you know what you haven’t done in a while?” Maggie asks.
“What’s that?”
“Sit outside and enjoy your coffee. You should tonight. You and Jansen. Green and I will clean up the kitchen.”
“We will? I don’t do dish—Ow!” Green stops talking and ends with a yell when his sister kicks him under the table. I hold my head down, so they can’t see me silently laughing. “Yeah, okay, fine. We’ll clean the dishes for you, Mom. You go sit outside and drink coffee,” Green mutters, glaring at his sister.
“I’m sure Mr. Reed has other things to do,” Ida Sue responds giving her children a scowling look.
“Actually, I’d like a little fresh air,” I tell her, standing up and reaching out my hand to her. She looks down at it and me and I’m pretty sure I can see panic on her face. I expect her to turn me down, but she surprises me. Her hand goes in mine.
We walk outside and the door barely shuts before we hear the kids cheering loudly.
“Score!” Cyan yells. “I think he likes her!”
“Of course, he likes her, dummy. Our mom’s a babe!” Black says.
That does make me laugh and I don’t even try to hold it back.
“I’m going to kill them,” she mutters, holding her head down.
“Well, they are right about one thing, Ida Sue.”
“What’s that?” she asks, still looking down at her feet.
I cup my hand on the side of her neck, applying enough pressure so she’ll look at me.
“You are a babe,” I murmur, looking into eyes that are a shimmering green that I’m pretty sure I could lose myself in.
16
Ida Sue
You would think a widow of thirty-eight, with nine children, would know how to be comfortable in her own skin. You would think she could handle herself around a man. The sad truth is, I lost myself the day Orville died and I just haven’t been able to find myself again. If I’m truly honest with myself, I lost myself before that.
Orville just held me together.
“I’m really sorry about this. I’ll have a word with them after you leave,” I tell him, kind of wishing the ground would swallow me whole.
“I’m not sorry. I had a real good evening with you all. It was fun.”
“I think you’re mistaking fun with loud,” I laugh, taking a step back from Jansen. I’m getting drugged by his scent, by his presence.
“Maybe it was a little of both,” he says with a shrug, his hand falling away.
“I’m still going to strangle them.”
“You got good kids, Ida Sue. Really good kids.”
“They are. I haven’t done a lot right in my life, but my kids are my world. I’m proud of them.”
“Why would you say that?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean you haven’t done a lot right? From where I’m standing, you’ve done a hell of a lot.”
“Jansen, I’m barely keeping a roof over my babies’ heads. You can’t have missed that since you’ve been knee deep in the books for the last month. And I’m sure you noticed the portable plastic patio table we are using to have supper on, or the big pot in the corner that we keep there because the roof is leaking.”
“Doesn’t change the fact you have good kids and you’ve done a hell of a job raising them, Ida Sue.”
“I guess,” I mutter, suddenly uncomfortable.
“I know,” he says. �
��Look at me, Ida Sue,” he orders quietly.
“You’re an amazing woman,” he says. He leans in towards me and I’m caught in his stare. He’s going to kiss me. My heart speeds up and it wouldn’t surprise me if it didn’t pound out of my chest. I feel my body swaying, moving in to him and my eyes begin to close.
“Dude! He’s going to kiss Mom!” Cyan yells. I look over Jansen’s shoulder to see all seven kids with their noses pressed into the picture window.
I drop my head against Jansen’s shoulder, which is shaking with his laughter. I feel his hands rest on my sides and they feel like they’re branding me.
“Can I kill them?”
“You’d regret it.”
“Maybe,” I sigh. “I should probably go back inside. Being out here with you is not discouraging them…”
“I like having you in my arms,” he whispers softly against my ear.
“You say that now, but how will you feel if Cyan and Petal bring you more presents?”
“I can deal.”
“We really should be careful about encouraging whatever they have cooked up in their minds. Trust me, I know my kids, they can be scary, Jansen.”
“There it is,” he murmurs.
“What?” I ask, pulling away just enough to look at him. He has the deepest brown eyes. A girl could totally lose herself in them.
“You finally said my name. I’ve been Mr. Reed all night. I like Jansen coming from your lips much better.”
“The kids are watching,” I remind him, rolling my lips together, wetting them because my mouth is suddenly dry.
“I want more time with you, Ida Sue.”
“I… I have nine kids, Jansen.”
“So?”
“I’m kind of a mess.”
“A beautiful one. No prize myself, Lovey. The way I see it, you don’t get to be our age and not have some kind of mess in your past.”
Lovey.
It’s a strange nickname, but I like the way it rolls from his tongue. I like the way it sounds and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the tender way he says it makes my knees feel like jelly.
“But the kids…”
“We’ll have to be creative and keep it from them.”
“Creative? Have you met my children?” I laugh, startled with his answer.
“You haven’t seen me in action yet, Sweetheart. I’ll give those whipper-snappers a run for their money.”
“I don’t think I can spend time with a man who calls my kids whipper-snappers,” I warn him.
“I’ll make you like it,” he winks, pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ida Sue.”
“Tomorrow, Jansen,” I tell him and he walks backwards to the edge of the porch, his gaze locked with mine.
“Yeah. I really like my name on your lips, Ida Sue. I truly do,” he says, then he turns around and walks down the steps. I watch him walk away and as he disappears into the darkness I barely resist the urge to squeal like a damn teenager.
17
Jansen
“Hey, Maggie.” I call as she walks through the door and deeper into the barn.
“Hi, Jansen. Kayla and I were wanting to go riding. She’s spending the night with me tonight.”
“Howdy, Miss Kayla.”
“Hey, Jansen,” Kayla says shyly. She’s a pretty little thing, a bit timid, but a good kid. Kayla’s been here at the farm often. Ida Sue has pretty much claimed her as one of her own. She’s hopelessly star struck on White and always talking about him when she’s here. She’s way too young for him, and I hope she gets over her crush before she gets much older. If not, then she’s bound to get her heart broken.
Young hearts.
They’re full of energy, but more than a little stupid. Then again, I may just be an old fool.
“Your Momma know your plans?” I ask Maggie.
“Um… Well, no. But, we always go riding, Jansen. I can ride a horse better than I can walk,” Maggie answers.
“Just the same, run up to the house and let her know what you got planned and where you are going.”
She frowns at me. “We never did before, Jansen,” she says stubbornly.
“But, he’s right. You should,” Ida Sue says coming through the doors.
She looks pretty as a picture today. Wearing jeans and a simple white T-shirt, but she looks better than a woman dressed to the nines. My ex used to spend hundreds of dollars on a dress to go out to dinner. At the time, I thought she was beautiful. She couldn’t hold Ida Sue a light to go by right now—no matter what she was wearing. Ida Sue has her hair pulled back in a pony tail and it’s hard to decide if I should watch the way it bounces with each step she makes or the gentle swell of her breasts and how they sway as she walks. I decide on her hair—just because there are little ones around us.
“You’re never here, Mom,” Maggie says and I see this look come over Ida Sue’s face and I know the simple words hurt her. She definitely needs someone to help her before she drowns in work and bills.
She needs me.
“Thank you,” Ida Sue says softly once we get the girls saddled up and on their way.
“For what?”
“Having my back. Maggie doesn’t like answering to anyone. It’s been that way since she graduated high school early and began taking college classes. She got an invite from the Dean of the college to stay on campus for a week to see if she’d like to go there full-time next year. They offered her a scholarship. I probably shouldn’t have let her go. Ever since, she tries to act like she’s an adult, which I guess she mostly is… but…”
“But, she’s your baby and it’s common courtesy to tell you when she goes riding so you know where she’s at. She’s still under your roof, Lovey.”
She colors a little bit and laughs.
“What?” I ask.
“Lovey?”
I rub the scruff of my beard looking down at her, contemplating my next move here. I’m out of practice bad when it comes to courting a woman.
“You don’t like it?” I ask.
“I didn’t say that. It’s just… unusual.”
“My Dad called my Mom that. I guess it just slipped out without me realizing it. You remind me of my mother in a lot of ways.”
“Was she the talk of the town, too? Did they want her to wear a scarlet letter A on her dress and be marched about?”
“If the town bothers you that much, why don’t you move?” I ask her.
I put my hand at the small of her back and we start walking back toward my office which is at the end of the barn beside the tack room, from there it connects to my quarters—and the other hands, if I can ever manage to get enough money to hire the ones I need. I take her to my office. It’s safer to talk there. There’s a bed in the other area, and that’s too much temptation. I think Ida Sue likes me, but she seems as spooked as a horse that’s never been saddled. I need to take my time.
“It bothers me, but mostly for my kids. This old house is home and it’s the one my kids love and have memories of. When Orville died, I remember them crying wondering where we would go and if they would like their new schools. White, my oldest, told them we’d have to leave the house. He just assumed we’d move now that Orville was gone. It was an honest assumption, and truthfully I did move every time a relationship fell apart and unfortunately there were a lot of those—not just with their fathers.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I have penchant for jumping in things too soon and a gift for attracting slores,” she mutters.
“Slores?” I laugh, leaning against my desk and standing beside her.
“It’s a combination of sluts and whores.”
“I think those terms are used to refer to women,” I respond with a smirk. “I’m not really sure what they call men…”
“Slores works. They whined like little girls, anyways, and definitely had PMS more than I did.”
“I don’t have PMS,” I tell her, still grinning.
“Most people who have PMS, never admit t
o it or see it for themselves. Sorry Jansen, the jury is still out,” she answers and there’s a spark in her eyes that I’ve seen glimpses of before, but I see it full on now and damn if I don’t like it.
“Well, I’m definitely not a… slore. There’s been very few women in my past, Lovey.”
“Even if there has been, it doesn’t mean you’re bad, you know. What makes you bad is if you had those women at the same time,” she says, her face earnest.
“Very true.”
“I never did, in case you were wondering. I was always in it for the long haul. They are the ones who just ran.”
“They were idiots.”
“Mostly, yeah. Although there’s a part of me wondering if it’s not me.”
“Ida Sue—”
“Something inside of me that makes me unworthy of their attention, of their love,” she says, looking off in the distance. The look on her face is thoughtful and sad and it looks like she’s drifted off into the past because there’s definitely pain there. I can read that clearly, because I have some of my own.
I curve my hand around the side of her neck, bringing her focus back to me.
“I don’t see anything but beauty,” I tell her honestly. She stares at me for a long moment, those shadows of the past still in her eyes and then, just like that, she shrugs them away.
“Anyway, when I saw how upset my kids were, I couldn’t leave. This was home. I swore I’d never leave it and they’d always know that this was their home.”
“It would have been easier to move somewhere else, some place smaller with more opportunity job wise for you,” I respond, still taking notes on Ida Sue and liking everything I uncover.
“Easier isn’t always better, Jansen. Most of the time, easier is the road you regret taking.”
“Ida Sue?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Do you always tell a girl you’re going to kiss them before you do?”