by Emmy Eugene
Darren and Brian, who’d also come to help move the clean fill, didn’t argue, and they loaded into Russ’s truck and headed back to the homestead. Russ had barely washed his hands in the huge, industrial-sized sink before he heard Travis say, “They’re here.”
Rex and Griffin were already in the homestead, and the scent of hot chocolate filled the house. So they’d had time to heat up drinks, and Russ entered the kitchen to the wagging of three tails.
Winner barked and scampered off toward the front door, as if Millie and her momma needed herding to the proper place. He’d fed the dogs that morning, but Russ checked on their water and refreshed it as Griffin pulled the pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge.
“Plates and forks,” Rex said, and Russ was quite proud that he and his brothers could put together a meal with all the proper pieces when guests came over.
“Russ,” Travis called, and he turned and went through the doorway and into the living, greeting Millie’s mother with a warm smile. “Ma’am.” He tipped his hat and reached for her arm, as she didn’t seem super stable on her feet.
She smiled back at him and shuffled forward. “You can call me Shirley,” she said, taking a stronger step now that he had ahold of her. They entered the kitchen, and Griffin beamed at the older woman.
“Ma’am,” he said. “Sweet tea?”
Winner barked over her answer, but surely it was yes. She’d lived in Texas her whole life, and Russ wasn’t even sure he remembered what regular water tasted like.
“Winner,” he chastised the dog. “Leave her be.” He pushed the canine back, glad Cloudy and Thunder seemed to know their places.
“Oh, I love dogs,” Shirley said, bending down to pat them. “So this is Winner? And you?” She cooed at Thunder, whose tail went whap whap whap against the counter—and Rex’s legs.
“Tail awareness, Thunder,” he said, chuckling.
“Thunder,” Russ said. “And Cloud Nine, but we call her Cloudy.”
“Sweet tea, ma’am?” Griffin asked.
She accepted the glass of tea from him, and Griffin led her over to the dining room table.
“Pizza’s here,” Travis said, dropping six boxes on the counter. Six.
Russ’s mouth started watering immediately, and chaos ensued as plates got passed out and napkins retrieved from the cabinet. Russ put four slices of pizza on his plate, his stomach thinking he could eat more than that, and took a seat at the table.
“Leave one for Millie,” he said, thinking Travis could pull up a barstool. With Darren, Tomas, and Brian here, there was only one seat left at the table. Eight chairs for nine people.
Rex said something to Millie’s mother and got up to get her a plate of food.
Russ retrieved her a napkin, and they all sat down before Travis had even picked up a plate. Russ watched his brother, and he was definitely glowing in Millie’s presence. At least he didn’t fall down, and Russ tuned in to the conversation at the table.
“We need to get out to the south stream,” Griffin said. “I think there might be sludge there polluting our water supply.”
“It’s not the well?” Rex asked.
“I haven’t sent Travis out there yet,” Russ said.
“I know it’s not the river between us and the Wright’s,” Darren said. “We checked that north to south, didn’t we, boys?”
“That we did,” Tomas said. “So really, I need to talk about Lucy.”
“Oh, boy,” Brian said, but Tomas ignored him.
“She’s really nice, you guys.”
“Lucy McBride?” Shirley asked, and all the conversation stopped.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tomas said, his eyes lighting up. “Do you know her?”
“Of course I do,” Shirley said. “Her family lives down the block from me. Good folks.”
“Everyone thinks she’s a bit…odd.”
“Oh, she’s a bit odd,” Shirley confirmed, and Russ wanted to laugh. But Shirley didn’t, so he stayed sober too. “But a lovely woman. Bright, and kind, and so talented. I own a few of her paintings.”
“She paints?” Tomas asked, and Russ couldn’t hold back the laughter then.
“You’ve been out with her a dozen times,” Darren said. “How do you not know she paints?” He shook his head, and Rex practically wheezed he was laughing so hard. It wasn’t that funny, but Rex took everything to the extreme. Always had.
Russ caught Travis’s eye as he and Millie went outside to the patio, and a slip of guilt moved through him. They should’ve gotten another chair out of the garage and made sure they could all eat together.
Travis probably wants to be alone with her, he thought. If it were Janelle, he’d want to eat on the patio too, just to get some peace and quiet.
“So I heard a rumor about you,” Rex said, zeroing in on Russ.
“Yes?” Russ asked in a monotone.
“You’re back together with Janelle?”
“It’s not a rumor,” Russ said. “I told you yesterday morning I’d started seeing her again.” He rolled his eyes, and Shirley said, “Janelle Stokes? Oh, she’s a brilliant woman.”
Russ ignored the smug look on Rex’s face and tuned in, because the second-best thing to being with Janelle was listening to someone talk about her.
Russ sang along to the country song on the radio as he drove to town. The cement workers were well into pouring the foundation, and Travis had realized that he hadn’t ordered the right kind of nails for the nail gun they owned.
Russ had volunteered to go to town, because he had a hankering for a fresh cinnamon roll, and the bakery did a three p.m. baking every day of the week. If he got in line in time, he could get one with drippy, warm cream cheese frosting before he went to the hardware store.
His mouth watered, and he may have pressed harder on the accelerator. The line for the cinnamon rolls wasn’t the usual drive-through line, and only one person waited at the bright blue line in the parking lot. Russ pulled up behind him and increased the volume on the radio. He loved country music, and he had a good twenty minutes to wait before the first cinnamon rolls would hit the line.
Within thirty seconds, three more cars pulled into the reserved line, and Russ smiled to himself that he’d gotten there before them.
His phone chimed, and he glanced at the in-dash screen. Message from Janelle Stokes sat there, and he tapped the green button that said READ in all capital letters. The words appeared on the screen, and Russ scanned them.
Have fun at your mother’s tonight.
Russ smiled, because there was more to the text than just the words. Her text meant she was thinking about him, and he sure did like that.
Thanks, he tapped out on his phone, sending the message. How’s your mother? Your daddy?
Janelle’s parents lived down the highway a bit, in Johnson City. He’d teased her for a solid week that his family had founded Johnson City, though it wasn’t true. And boy, had Janelle been annoyed at him when he’d finally come clean. But she’d laughed too, and Russ had kissed her for the first time after that date.
They’re doing okay, she said. Her parents were getting older, and Janelle, as the oldest child, bore the weight of taking care of them. Russ was the second oldest, but he saw how much Seth did for their parents that Russ didn’t even think of.
And Janelle was a woman, with two younger brothers and a younger sister. She’d liked that he came from a bigger family, and they were both used to a little bit of chaos.
He hadn’t asked her if she wanted more kids yet, because he hadn’t even met the ones she had. Russ wanted kids, he knew that. What he was less sure about was whether or not he was ready to become a father on the same day he became a husband.
And both were really far down the road anyway.
The music was suddenly too loud for all of his thoughts, so he reached over and turned the volume down. He didn’t like the constant up and down with Janelle. Happy she was texting one moment, and then too far inside his mind the next.
&
nbsp; So get out of your mind, he told himself.
He wanted to meet her parents, but he didn’t want to ask when that would happen. He wondered what her Christmas plans were, as Travis was planning a big party at the homestead, and Russ would like to celebrate the holiday with Janelle and her kids. But he hadn’t asked either of them yet, so he’d made no plans.
Let’s go to the mall tomorrow night, he messaged her. Get some Christmas presents. See Santa. Have peppermint hot chocolate.
Oh, you’re trying to get right back into my life. Janelle sent a smiley face with her words. How’d you know I love the mall at Christmastime?
Lucky guess, he said, smiling again. So that’s a yes? We can eat there if you’d like. Or stop somewhere first.
That’s a yes, cowboy. And I love that pot pie shop in the same parking lot as the mall. Have we been?
Oh, they’d been. Russ really liked PotPied, and he’d gone several times since Janelle had introduced him to the fast-casual pot pie shop that had everything from the classic chicken pot pie to a wild mushroom and kale pot pie that made him groan just from the scent of it.
We’ve been, he sent back. And I love that place. Seriously love it.
What’s your favorite pie?
Oh, there’s too many good ones to choose a favorite.
The minutes passed quickly as he texted his girlfriend, and Russ experienced a new level of happiness in his life.
A girl approached his window, and he tapped quickly. My cinnamon roll is here. Gotta ride.
He rolled down his window and paid the girl in exchange for the ooey gooey treat, a smile beaming from his very soul. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, taking the container, which was still warm on the bottom.
His in-dash screen read Cinnamon roll? but he dismissed the message. He needed to move out of the way so the rest of the line could get their afternoon pick-me-up, and he still had to go to the hardware store.
He savored the scent of freshly baked dough, butter, and cinnamon on the quick drive down the street to the hardware store. He pulled into a space that was mostly shaded and reached for the treat.
A black plastic fork rested in the container, and he cut off his first delectable bite. The sweet and savory dough made him feeling like singing, and he reached over to turn the radio back up. The music filled his soul the same way the cinnamon roll filled his stomach, and he savored every bite until he reached the middle piece.
It was his favorite bite of all, and he held it up a little higher as if offering a sacrifice to the gods of baked goods before putting it in his mouth. He closed his eyes in bliss as he chewed and swallowed, so glad Travis had ordered the wrong nails. Maybe he should come up with a reason to come to town every day at two-twenty so he could wait in the cinnamon roll line and text Janelle.
He reached for his water bottle and drained it. “Back to business,” he told himself, taking his trash with him as he exited his truck. No sense in leaving the evidence of his little sugar habit behind. Not that anyone but him drove his truck. And he’d just told Janelle about his cinnamon roll fetish.
The thunder rolled through the sky, and Russ glanced up at the dark clouds that had draped themselves over the Texas Hill Country. He loved rainstorms, and he reached the entrance to the hardware store before the thunder stopped filling the sky.
A man wearing a brand new pair of jeans and a crisp blue polo exited the store as Russ stared going in, and they almost collided. “Oh, excuse me,” Russ said, stepping out of the way.
The man didn’t look like the type to be at the hardware store. In fact, he probably had people who did all of his shopping for him, and Russ was surprised this guy even knew where the hardware store was.
He carried a can of paint by the handle, and he flashed a smile at Russ. “No prob…lem.” He did a double-take. “You’re Russ Johnson.”
The man wasn’t asking, and Russ studied him. He decided he didn’t know this guy, which wasn’t all that surprising. He had grown up in Chestnut Springs, but he’d been living out on the ranch for years now.
“Yes, sir,” he said slowly. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Henry Stokes.” He extended his hand for Russ to shake. “I think you’re dating my ex-wife.”
Chapter Ten
Janelle looked at herself in the mirror, completely satisfied with the sweater she’d finally settled on. It was pine green—perfect for shopping on the first weekend in December—with white and black stripes around the thicker green ones. It hugged her curves, and she’d paired it with a purposefully ripped-up pair of black jeans.
She wasn’t as sure about those, as she was forty-one years old and maybe the jeans said she was trying too hard. Maybe she was trying to relive her twenties.
“Momma,” Kadence said, and Janelle turned away from the full-length mirror in her bedroom.
“What, baby?” She ran her hand through her daughter’s hair, the silky, fine quality of it so childlike.
“Kelly says I can’t watch Mulan with her tonight.” Kadence had her pout down pat, and Janelle’s irritation rose no matter how she tried to push it down.
“Well, that’s just silly,” she said. “Of course you can.”
“But Momma,” Kelly said from the doorway. “She sings all the songs, and half the words are wrong. It’s annoying.”
“Then watch something else.”
“I haven’t seen Mulan in forever,” Kelly whined. “All she wants to watch is Coco.”
“That’s because I know all the words to those songs,” Kadence argued.
“Girls,” Janelle said firmly. “All you have is each other. You have to figure out how to get along.”
“We just won’t watch a movie tonight,” Kelly said.
“Not your call,” Janelle said, sighing. “Can you two please not spend the night arguing? Audrey doesn’t deserve that.” She didn’t either, but she was their mother, and she couldn’t leave at midnight and go back to her regular life.
“Are you going out with Russ again?” Kelly asked, folding her arms. She didn’t look happy, but Janelle hadn’t gone out while the girls were awake in over two weeks. She was home every morning and every afternoon with her kids, and they’d been doing art lessons, cooking and baking, and going to the swimming hole at the bottom of the springs.
Not recently, of course, but when the weather was warmer. They’d put up their Christmas tree together once the girls had come home from Thanksgiving with Henry, and Janelle had bought each girl the candle she wanted to scent the house with, and they’d made a schedule for who could burn what, when.
“Yes,” Janelle said. “And girls.” She sat down on the bed and drew Kadence into her arms. She motioned for Kelly to come closer, and the girl did. Janelle stroked her hair too, smiling at her as fondness moved through her. “We’re going to go out to Russ’s ranch tomorrow morning. He’s making breakfast, and he wants to meet you.”
Both of her girls just looked steadily back at her, their eyes both a shade of brown that sat somewhere between her light brown ones and Henry’s deep, dark ones. They both had brown hair too, with Kelly’s being darker than Kadence’s.
Kelly pushed Janelle further than Kadence did, but she was smart as a whip and mostly obedient. Kadence was still little and learning, but she seemed to want to please Janelle and her teachers, and Janelle loved both of her daughters with a fierceness that rivaled the power of gravity.
“Do you want to meet him?” she asked. “I really like him. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Is he going to be my dad?” Kadence asked.
“No, sweetie.” Janelle gave her youngest a smile. “You have Daddy. He’s still going to take you as much as he always does. Russ and I are dating, getting to know each other.”
“Are you going to marry him?” Kelly asked. “Because if you do, then he’s going to be our dad.”
“I don’t know,” Janelle said. “You guys know I would never bring someone into your lives that wasn’t amazing. And Russ is pretty amazing.�
� She had no idea how to talk to children in a way where they could understand complex, adult situations like this. “He’s nice. I think you’ll like him.”
“What’s he making for breakfast?” Kadence asked, and Janelle grinned at her.
“I’m not sure. But he loves cinnamon rolls. Should we get up early and make him some?”
Kelly’s face lit up then, and Janelle knew she’d be getting up at five a.m. to make the dough so it had time to rest before going out to the ranch.
“Yes,” her daughter said.
“Okay, then,” Janelle said. “But if I agree to getting up early to make cinnamon rolls, you have to be kind to your sister tonight.” She tapped Kelly’s nose, and she saw her daughter’s shoulders sag.
“All right,” she drawled in her high-pitched Texas twang.
Janelle giggled and echoed her. “We’ve already made three items this week, but were cinnamon rolls on the list?”
“I’ll check,” Kadence said, reaching for Janelle’s phone. The fact that her seven-year-old knew how to navigate the intricacies of social media wasn’t lost on Janelle, but she supposed that was the world she—and they—lived in.
“Yep,” Kadence said. “Cinnamon rolls right here.”
“Great,” Janelle said. “Kel, you need to check the ingredients and make sure we have them all. Text me if we don’t, and I’ll stop somewhere tonight.”
“Okay, Momma.”
They went down the hall together, and Janelle took her phone back from Kadence. “Is that what time it is?” Her pulse leapt, and she hurried to step into her ankle boots. “I’m late. Audrey should be here any moment.” She stood back as the doorbell rang. “How do I look?”
“Cute,” Kelly said at the same time Kadence said, “Sexy.”
“Sexy?” She gaped at her seven-year-old. “Where did you hear that?” She moved over to open the front door, where Audrey stood with another girl. Her little sister. “Hello, girls. Come on in.”
They did, and Janelle crouched down in front of Kadence. “Where did you hear that?”
Kadence shuffled her feet and looked at the ground.