Cowboy Confessions

by Gail MacMillan

  ****

  “Look.” She came out of the stand of straggly black spruce into waist-high marsh grass and pointed. “That must be Quebec. Beautiful through that bluish haze. Much better than having discovered the Atlantic.” She tossed a grin back over her shoulder at him.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He sank down on a driftwood log and rested his cane against it.

  She pulled two chocolate bars from the pocket of her shorts and handed one to him.

  “What’s this?” He squinted up at her in the sunlight.

  “Energy food. Just the thing to shore a person up on a hike.”

  “I was expecting granola…or fruit.” He took one from her and began to peel away the wrapper.

  “Hey, I’m not beyond the odd bit of fun food. You underestimate me, mister.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “If you’re referring to that night on the veranda…” This time it was her words that reflected annoyance.

  “Sorry about that.” He bit into the bar. “Guess I was trying to prove myself.”

  “And gain my confidence so you could pull that trick on me the next day.” The anger she’d been controlling burst out. “Good God, Ross!”

  “Yeah, well, maybe it was more than that.”

  “More than that? What more than that could there possibly be?” She stood, legs shoulder-width apart, arms crossed on her chest, and faced him.

  “I guess I was trying to find out if I still had what it took to interest a lady.” He looked up at her, eyes squinting in the sunlight coming from behind her.

  “So you decided to prove yourself by making a play for me. Ross, that’s despicable.”

  “Yeah, I guess, but when you’re dragging a gimpy leg and not sure…”

  He glanced to the left into the trees.

  “Not sure you could make love?” Her tone softened as she turned back.

  “In flowery terms, yeah.”

  “But you stopped short. Why?”

  He didn’t answer right away. When he did, he focused on the sand under his feet.

  “Because you’re Jess. Checking myself out with you would just be wrong.”

  She didn’t reply. For a few moments there was only the soughing of the soft breezes through the ragged spruce and swaying marsh grass.

  “Thank you.” The two words came out softly. He looked up at her, and their gazes locked.

  “Enough said.” He snapped back into his belligerent character and again bit into his chocolate bar. “How long do we have to sit here enjoying a bunch of blue hills and gray water?” He spoke with his mouth full.

  She sighed. Ross the Rude was back.

  ****

  “Ah, bloody hell! Will you look at that? I told you that old tub wasn’t seaworthy!”

  Ross stared at the rowboat half sunk a few feet off shore.

  Jessi stared at the boat, then out across the water.

  “The tide must have come in,” she said.

  “Yeah, yeah, the tide must have come in,” he snapped. “Now it’s almost twice as far to shore. We’ll have to call for help and look like the right pair of fools.” His hand went to the back pocket of his shorts. “Ah, damn. My phone must have fallen out somewhere along this ridiculous expedition. Okay, we’ll use yours. Give it here.” He held out a hand.

  She dug into her pockets, then raised empty hands. “I must have left it in the pocket of my jeans.”

  “Well, isn’t this just great! Stranded on an island a quarter mile from the farm at high tide. This mess couldn’t have been more complete if it had been orchestrated—ah, hell, it was, wasn’t it?” He turned on her. “I’ll bet you pushed the boat out to where it would take on water, maybe even shoved a few planks loose when you made that excuse of turning back for your sunglasses. And I’m guessing you swiped my cell when you attempted to help me into the boat.”

  “Ross…”

  “You want me to have to swim back to the farm. This is the same kind of treatment you use with injured horses, right? I’ve heard about it, so don’t deny the fact. Now we’re in a fine pickle.”

  “It’s not that far.” She put her hands on her hips and squinted toward the dilapidated old house. “It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

  “And what if I can’t swim? Did you think of that?”

  “Oh, I know you can.” She cast him a sly, sideways glance.

  “Yeah? How?”

  “That year you and Chase came to help with the branding…it was a really hot spring. Do you remember you and your brother cooling off in the swimming hole Dad had dug in the creek down beyond the paddocks?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “And that Janet was staying with us?”

  “Okay, okay, memories revived. Where is this going?”

  “Well, Janet and I were teenagers, curious teenagers, just getting really interested in boys.”

  “Ah, don’t tell me. You sneaked down and watched.”

  “Well, then I won’t. I will say we both got an eyeful…two good-looking guys, skinny-dipping. Maybe it was then Janet started thinking about marrying Chase.”

  She sauntered toward the shore, shooting him a teasing backward glance over her shoulder. “Come on, cowboy, time to start swimming. Only this time, keep your pants on.”

  Did anyone ever die of exasperation? If it’s possible, I’m a prime candidate.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Come on, swim! You can do it.” She turned back and yelled at him. “We’re almost there.”

  “Doin’ the best I can.” He fought for breath and calm. This woman will be the death of me.

  Ahead, he saw her reach water shallow enough to allow her to get to her feet. Standing, she waited for him, waves lapping about her waist.

  Bloody hell, in that wet T-shirt…

  With what he figured was near the end of his strength, he managed to reach out with long crawl strokes. Shortly, finally, blessedly, he put his feet on a sandy bottom. “Told you you could do it.” She grinned triumphantly as he caught at her arm to pull himself upright.

  “Yeah, well, lucky for you.” The words blurted out in gasps.

  “For me?”

  “If you’d had to tell my mother you’d drowned me, you’d suffer a fate worse than I had.”

  “Laura is a pretty darned compassionate person.” She smirked back at him. “She would have understood.”

  He ignored the remark and staggered to shore. A few feet up onto the overgrown lawn, his toe hit something in the grass. Looking down, he saw sunlight glinting off his cell.

  “Great!” He bent, suppressing a groan, and picked it up. Blast the woman! Grasping it, he continued on toward the house. He was starting up the verandah steps when her voice made him pause.

  “Looking good, mister. Made it all the way to the house…without your cane.”

  Sweet Jesus! I did. Somehow I did. Astounded he stopped dead in his tracks. The swimming…did that do it?

  A pain shot up his leg, and he grabbed the railing. No, it was just one of those crazy things you do when you’re fighting for your life. Like when you fall off a bull. A major adrenalin rush. If you’re conscious, you run like hell to get out of the way, no matter how bad you’re hurt.

  He entered the house and headed for the bathroom. A shower. He needed a hot shower. Let her wait. This whole blasted mess had been her doing. He shed his wet clothes and turned on the water.

  But as warm water eased away the cold and he relaxed beneath the flow, another thought struck him. He stopped rubbing the soapy washcloth over his chest.

  Damn, it feels good to be alive, to have survived under my own power. Even if I ended up panting like an old dog in August. Maybe the woman has the odd good idea.

  ****

  “A real gentleman, aren’t you?” Jessi, sitting cross-legged on her mattress and wearing her flannelette pajamas, greeted him as he came out of the bathroom in the robe she’d borrowed her first night at the farm. “You didn’t think twice about dashing into the showe
r ahead of me.” Her hair still damp and tangled, she held dry underwear and a gray jogging suit as she glared at him.

  “Since you were the reason for our condition, I felt I had dibs. Anyhow, you appear to have gotten out of wet clothes and made yourself comfortable.” He limped to the hall closet and reached inside. When his hand emerged, he held a cane.

  “Oh, come on!” Exasperation burst from her words. “You just swam a quarter mile and walked almost a hundred yards up from the shore unassisted.”

  “Yeah, well, desperate situations call for desperate actions.” He reached into the closet and fumbled about. When he emerged he held an assortment of dry clothes. “Now my leg hurts like hell, and as soon as I’m dressed, I plan to medicate myself with a couple of beers.”

  “Argh!” She headed for the bathroom, shoulders squared, annoyance in every stride.

  “Lots of hot water left,” he called after her. “I’m enough of a gentleman to see that there is.”

  The door slammed on his words.

  ****

  Jessi came into the kitchen in a gray jogging suit, her hair blown dry, and feeling much better, to find him seated at the table in jeans and gray sweatshirt, nursing a beer.

  “No pills accompanying that, I hope?” She went to the refrigerator and helped herself to a long neck.

  “I’ve already told you…I don’t do that.”

  “Just checking.”

  Her cell rang, and she pulled it from a back pocket.

  “Now you find it tucked away…in a jogging suit.” He gave her a withering glance, and she smirked back.

  “Hello. Shelby? Sure, we’d love to. See you at six.”

  She punched out and turned to Ross.

  “Shelby and Jake have invited us to dinner tonight.”

  “And you accepted…for both of us? Argh!”

  “Oh, come on. You might get to visit Fox. And you’ll feel right at home on a horse farm. Anyhow”—she heaved a sigh and sat down opposite—“I need to share a conversation with someone who isn’t constantly grumpy and suspicious of my every move.”

  “So the therapist needs therapy.” He watched her through narrowed eyes as she took a pull on her beer.

  “Physician, heal yourself.” She cocked her head to favor him with a sly grin. “I can’t very well help you if I’m tied up in knots myself, can I?” She stood. “Now I’m going out onto the veranda to enjoy this beer and the rest of this lovely afternoon before we have to get dressed to go to Ebony M Farm. You can either join me or sit here in a purple funk.”

  She picked up her bottle and strode toward the front of the house. As he heard the door bump shut behind her, he muttered an expletive, paused a moment, then grasped his cane and followed.

  ****

  “Shelby, that was absolutely delicious.” Jessi heaved a sigh as she finished her serving of apple pie and ice cream in the farmhouse kitchen. “And that lobster salad…wow!”

  “Thank you. Sorry the lobster wasn’t fresh out of the bay, only from the freezer.” The vet stood and began to gather up dishes. “Our season finished at the end of June. The salad was made from some Jake and I froze.”

  “Nevertheless, it was great.” Jessi got up as well. “Let me help you clean up.”

  “No need, Jessi. You’re a guest. I was going to suggest the guys take Katie Rose down to the barn to say goodnight to Pretty. Maybe you’d like to go along?’

  “No, thanks. I’ll visit the barn another time.” She began to gather up dessert plates.

  “Come on, Ross.” Jake took his daughter out of her booster seat and up into his arms. “We’ll go and let the ladies talk.” He gave the little girl a quick kiss on the cheek. “Anyhow, this young lady won’t even consider going to bed until she hugs that pony goodnight.”

  Looking from Shelby to Jake and their daughter, Jessi felt a twinge of something she hated to recognize as envy. Happiness. Contentment. Trust. That’s what they had, all the chief components of a solid family life. She wondered if she’d have had even one of those with Clint.

  ****

  She and Shelby chatted about their work with horses as they filled the dishwasher and tidied the kitchen.

  “How about another coffee in the living room?” the vet suggested as she punched the machine into action. “Knowing Katie Rose’s reluctance to leave that pony and go to bed, the guys might be a while.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I hope I’m not talking out of turn.” Shelby looked across at Jessi once they were seated in the living room. “But I do know why you’re here. It’s a lot more than a visit to a friend. You’re here to try to help Ross get over his injury…psychologically. When she called me a week ago, Laura Turner confided in me. She felt we had enough in common that we might be able to collaborate.”

  “You’re right.” Jessi settled back in the comfortable chair with a sigh. “But I don’t seem to be doing much to help at present. About all I’ve managed so far is to get him to swim.” She went on to tell Shelby about their adventure coming back from the island.

  Shelby grinned when she’d finished. “That was a bit devious, but warranted. Also, with a good deal of scientific research to back it up…at least, as we both know, with horses. Apparently it had a positive effect. You said he managed to walk without his cane from the beach to the house.”

  “He did, but as soon as he’d showered and had time to think, he grabbed another one.” Jessi heaved a deep breath. “I must say, I was glad to receive your invitation to dinner tonight, for more reasons than one. First, I looked forward to spending time with you and your family. Second, it got Ross out of the house and into a social situation. He needs more interaction with people. I have a feeling that before I came he had some plan to hermit away on the farm and drink himself stupid every night.”

  “Not good.” Shelby shook her head. “But I can understand a bit of your challenges. Jake arrived here sick and disillusioned about six years ago. Added to the problem, I had this huge prejudice against him. At least you aren’t struggling under any such feeling.”

  Jessi looked down into her coffee cup and hesitated.

  “Jessi, you can’t tell me you came here with any ill feelings against Ross.” Shelby’s eyebrows raised. “According to Mrs. Turner, you were childhood friends…or something of the sort.”

  “We were friends.” She spoke slowly. “But Ross is a few years older, which made a giant difference to teenagers. A lot has happened since then. Ross went off on the rodeo circuit, while I built up a business working with traumatized horses. And I got myself involved with a rodeo cowboy who turned out to be heartbreak on the hoof…as I’ve told you. So, while I might not be prejudiced against Ross himself, I have to admit I have a fair bit of animosity toward rodeo cowboys in general.”

  “Coming through.” Jake’s soft words made both women turn toward the kitchen doorway. Shelby’s husband entered with a sleepy toddler in his arms, her head on his shoulder. Ross followed. “This young lady fell asleep against a hay bale while Ross and I were talking horses.”

  “I’ll take her up.” Shelby started to rise. “She’ll need a bath.”

  “Stay where you are, Mommy.” Jake continued on toward the stairs. “You bathed her to within an inch of her life before our guests arrived for dinner. Right now, all she needs is her pajamas, bed, and that ragged stuffed pony. I can see to all that.”

  “Thanks.” Shelby sank back onto the couch, smiling at her husband. “Nightie night, Katie Rose darling,” she called out to the drowsy child.

  “Nightie night, Mommy.”

  “Come, join us, Ross.” Shelby indicated a chair near the fireplace. “From the looks of our daughter, it won’t take Jake long to get her settled. Would you like a fire?” She indicated the hearth with a box with papers, kindling, and logs beside it.

  “Wouldn’t say no.” His face eased into an expression Jessi recognized as the most relaxed of any she’d seen since her arrival. Coming to the Brooks’s for dinner had been a good ide
a. He continued, “Jessi and I had a bit of an adventure this afternoon, and the September waters of Chaleur Bay didn’t feel near as warm as they’re reputed to be.”

  “You mean that legend that it was originally called the Bay of Heat?” Shelby chuckled, starting to get up.

  “Yeah, that. And you don’t have to trouble yourself. I’ve lighted more than a few fires in my time.” He cast Jessi a sly grin that caused her to cast him a sarcastic grimace as he knelt in front of the fireplace.

  “Asleep already.” Jake came down the stairs as Ross was tossing a match into an arrangement of logs, kindling, and paper in the fireplace. He sank down on the couch beside Shelby and took her hand.

  “You should have seen her helping Jake in the vegetable garden this morning.” Shelby entwined her fingers with her husband’s and chuckled. “She was dirt from head to toe.”

  “Well, you can’t harvest potatoes without getting dirty.” Jake grinned, looking over at their guests. “I enjoy my garden…when there’s time to work in it.”

  “Jake’s from Prince Edward Island, land of the potato,” Shelby said. “You can take the boy off the island, but you can’t take potato farming…or lobster fishing…out of his blood.”

  “Farmer, were you, Jake?” Jessi was pleased to see Ross, the old Ross she’d known years ago, joining easily into the conversation as he’d once done.

  “My father is a potato farmer and lobster fisherman. I grew up farming and fishing. You sound surprised.”

  “Down at the barn just now, you talked about horses like someone who’s been around them for years.”

  “Shelby has taught me well.” He quirked a grin at his wife. “When I came here, I hardly knew which end to put the bridle on.”

  “Jake works most afternoons at the local high school, counseling at-risk teens.” Shelby’s abrupt change of subject surprised Jessi. Was there something in her husband’s past she didn’t want dug up?

  “Good for you.” Jessi let the thought pass and moved on with the change in conversation. “I’ve run a few riding clinics for troubled kids, but I have to admit not as many as I’d like. Maybe someday.”