Cowboy Confessions

by Gail MacMillan

Jessi hesitated. Much as she wanted to be in touch with Ross again, she had her pride, too.

  “No, Shelby.” She shook her head. “I think we both need more time before we’re ready to confess we acted a bit off the radar.”

  ****

  “I ain’t that lonely yet, no, I ain’t that lonely yet.”

  Ross sat on the veranda listening to the old country tune and figured it was an omen. He’d been waffling about calling Jessi, just to see how she was doing, but the words of the old tune from the ancient radio he’d salvaged from the kitchen cupboard made him pause.

  “No, damn it, that’s true. I’m not that lonely yet.” He looked down at Fox curled up at his feet, her nose under her tail like her namesake would have done. “No, definitely not. I have you and the Brooks family. And I could have had one really hot night with Cat a few weeks back, but…”

  He stopped and wondered again at his walking out of the woman’s hotel room when she’d come out of the bathroom in a bit of black lace nothing. She’d been beautiful, sexy, and willing. What more could a tomcat of a rodeo cowboy want?

  Something more, apparently. Something more.

  Fox broke into his thoughts by jumping to her feet with a sharp bark. The next minute she was off and running as fast as her game leg would allow, after a rabbit Ross hadn’t noticed in the grass a few yards from the steps.

  “Fox, no!” He was on his feet, yelling.

  Damn it, that was all he needed—Fox to get hurt again.

  But she was gone, into the trees.

  There was nothing he could do but wait and hope. He sank back down into the chair. He might not be that lonely yet, but he definitely wasn’t happy…or even contented. That much he knew.

  A sick feeling was gathering in his stomach a half hour later when a dirty red dog emerged from the woods, stumbling into view, tongue lolling out to full length.

  “Fox, come here, you stupid mutt!” Anger-induced relief shot through him and made him shout at the dog.

  The little dog paused at the bottom of the steps. For a moment, she stared up at him. Then she limped to the verandah and lay down at the far end.

  “Way to go, Turner. Alienate your dog. You’re getting real good at driving stuff away.”

  ****

  “Hey, guys, how about getting the door?” Ross, his arms full of the biggest orange pumpkin he could find in Carleton, summoned attention outside the farmhouse door.

  “Ross, what on earth…?” Shelby responded only to stop short, her eyes widening. “Where did you get that?” She pointed at the pumpkin as Ross entered, Fox darting ahead of him. “What? Why?”

  “Uncle Ross, you got it!” Katie Rose scrambled down from her booster seat at the end of the table and rushed to greet him as he placed his prize on the kitchen counter.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?” He met her enthusiasm with a grin.

  “Ross, what is going on?” Shelby put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. “What have you two been up to?” She let her look include her daughter.

  “Uncle Ross was telling me about how he and his brother used to make jack-o’-lanterns for Halloween.” Katie Rose, after greeting Fox, hurried to the counter to stroke the pumpkin. “He said he’d show me how to make one if”—she turned round blue eyes on her mother—“I promised not to tell you and Daddy. We wanted to surprise you. Guess that idea’s off the table now, though. Come on, Uncle Ross.” She swung back from petting the big vegetable. “Let’s get to it. Tomorrow is Halloween. No time to waste.”

  “Katie Rose…” Shelby began to admonish, but Jake was beside her, putting an arm around her waist, kissing her on the temple.

  “Don’t be a party pooper, Mommy.” He grinned. “I’ll clear the supper dishes from the table, and we can get started.”

  “I can see I’m outnumbered.” With a smile and a sigh, Shelby turned away and began to help her husband clear dishes from the table. Then she stopped.

  “Ross, have you eaten? There’s lots of pot roast left.”

  “Thanks, but I grabbed something in town. Anyhow, I’ve been eating here way too often. Time I started cooking for myself…again.”

  “You know we’re only too glad to have you join us. But,” she continued softly as Katie and her father removed supper from the table, “you’ve got to stop spoiling her.” She gave him a significant look. “It’s time you got started on a family of your own.” With a sly look, she turned away to join her husband and daughter in their work.

  Shortly, the table was cleared, covered with newspapers, and the pumpkin placed in the middle.

  “Now.” Katie Rose, once again seated on her booster chair, rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Let’s start cutting up this sucker.”

  “Katie Rose!” Her mother’s words made her look over at her. “Jake, have you spoken to Grady about…?”

  “I have, but you know Grady.” Her husband grinned ruefully. “Says he keeps forgetting himself.”

  “Sorry, Mommy.” For a moment blue eyes looked contrite, then her joie de vivre bounced back. “Come on, Uncle Ross, let’s…start.”

  A half hour later a grinning jack-o’-lantern sat in the midst of its innards on the kitchen table.

  “Oh!” Katie clapped her hands and grinned. “It’s mag…mag…”

  “Magnificent, darling.” Shelby smiled.

  “But that’s not all.” Ross snapped shut the knife he’d been using to carve, and stood. “Wait a minute.”

  He went out to his truck. When he came back, he carried a large, thick candle. Bending over the carved pumpkin, he inserted it into a circle he’d carved deep into the bottom. Jake got the idea and pulled a barbecue lighter from a drawer. As the candle blazed to life, Shelby snapped off the kitchen light. The ludicrously grinning face beamed out at them.

  “Oh, it’s double mag…mag-nificent!” Katy Rose sucked in such a deep breath her mother patted her on the back to make her exhale. “Oh, Uncle Ross, this will be my best Halloween e-e-ever!”

  “And you’ve had so many.” Jake chuckled. “Anyhow, I agree. Your uncle has made this one stand out.”

  “Tomorrow night we’ll put it out on the verandah steps, and everyone will see it for miles and miles and miles.” She waved her hands out far apart. “And they’ll say, ‘Look at the mag…magnificent jack-o’-lantern at the Ebony M. Bet they’re having the best Halloween e-ever.”

  “Quite possibly.” Shelby snapped the light back on and went to gather up her daughter, sticky with pumpkin innards, into her arms. “Right now, it’s a bath and bed for you.”

  “Ah, Mommy.”

  Ross blew out the candle. “We have to save it for tomorrow.”

  “I guess.” The child sighed. “Okay, Mommy, let’s get to it.”

  “Jake.” Shelby looked accusingly at her husband.

  “I’ll talk to Grady again.”

  After they’d gone upstairs, Jake turned to his friend.

  “That’s a really nice thing you did for Katie Rose, Ross. My brothers and I made jack-o’-lanterns when we were kids. I guess I just kind of forgot, spending years with teenagers who aren’t exactly into the magical spirit of Halloween…unless it’s the dark magical spirit.” Grinning ruefully, he shook his head.

  “You mean working in the high school.”

  “Yes, that and…more.”

  He didn’t continue, and Ross sensed he didn’t want the subject pursued, at least not right then.

  “How about a beer?” Jake changed the subject.

  “Sure, fine, but first I’m going to clean up this mess I fostered. Once Shelby gets Katie Rose to bed, I’m guessing she’ll have had a full day.”

  “We’ll clean it up.” Jake got a garbage bag. “Pick up your work of art, will you, so that I can pull the newspapers out from under it?”

  When the table had been cleared and washed, Jake took two long necks from the refrigerator and handed one to Ross.

  “Have a seat.” Jake indicated a chair and sat down i
n one opposite.

  “Okay, what’s up? From the sound of your voice, I’d guess we’re on the verge of a serious discussion.”

  “What’s made you think that?”

  “It’s the same tone my father uses when he’s about to give me lifestyle advice.”

  “Well, I’m not your father, and I’m not going to give you advice…not really.”

  “Okay, fire away.” Ross slouched back into the chair. “But don’t count on success. I’m a pretty independent guy.”

  “No kidding?” Jake slanted him a grin, and Ross couldn’t help replying in like.

  “Yeah.”

  “Ross, you’re recovered.” Jake grew serious. “You have been for a while. Now don’t get me wrong. We enjoy having you around and appreciate all the work you’ve been doing, helping around the place. Really appreciate it. But it’s time you headed back to Alberta and got your life squared away.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning it’s time you came to terms with how you feel about Jessi, about maybe planning a future with her.”

  “Oh, God, not you, too, Jake? I thought you were my best buddy.”

  “I am. Otherwise I wouldn’t be talking to you like this. Look, Shelby and I have seen you with her, have watched you interact with Katie Rose and our family, and we think you should give serious consideration to making a future with Jessi. You can’t go back to riding bulls. Or maybe you can…until you’re permanently crippled or killed. You’re a good man, Ross Turner. You deserve better.”

  “So you think I should go back to Alberta and romance Jessi into marrying me?”

  “Shelby and I both think.” Jake looked over at his friend, and Ross saw he was anticipating his reply.

  “You do realize that would be playing right into my mother’s plans…something I’ve never done?”

  “Yes, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? I think you’re afraid Jessi is only interested in you as a substitute for Clint Harrison.”

  “What! Are you crazy?” Ross quaffed his beer.

  “Well, aren’t you?”

  “No…yeah, well…”

  “Jessi Wallace is a fine woman.” Jake leaned across the table toward him, sincerity emanating from his eyes and words. “She’d no more trade one cowboy for another on those grounds than she’d whip a horse.” He moved to settle back on his chair. “Think about that.”

  “Yeah, well…you think?”

  “I know. And what’s more, Shelby knows. Women talk, Ross. Shelby and Jessi, in particular.”

  “Jess said something? When?”

  “I can’t give you a date, but sometime after she went back west, sometime during one of the dozens of phone calls she and Shelby make to each other.”

  “Humph.”

  “Look, Ross, finish your beer, go home, and think about it. You and Jessi will make one hell of a team. And your kids…”

  “Whoa, now, slow down, man. There was some pretty nasty stuff took place between us when we split.”

  “You’re not entirely ugly, and you’ve got a bit of cowboy charm.” Jake grinned over at him. “All I’m saying is give it your best shot.”

  ****

  Jessi led Maisy out of the barn into the frosty, gray November morning. The little mare’s breath came out in a fog as she walked obediently behind her toward the round pen. She was improving every day, but she still had issues, like a coyote’s howl or a loud, unexpected noise.

  Pausing at the gate, Jessi rubbed Maisy’s nose and told herself to be patient. Anything worth accomplishing took patience. And suddenly Ross Turner was all over her mind…all six foot two, broad shoulders, and blue eyes of him. Patience hadn’t worked with him. She remembered the way those blue eyes seemed to look right down into her soul, as if they knew all about her, about what made her tick.

  And yet he didn’t realize you love him.

  Good God, where had that stupid thought come from? After what he’d done with that Cat person, nothing could be further from the truth. She shoved open the gate, led Maisy inside, and started her in wide circles around her at a trot.

  I’ve got to start working harder. That’s the best medicine for tomcat cowboy blues.

  “Jessi!” Her mother’s voice calling made her turn toward the ranch house. Joan Wallace stood in the doorway holding up the cordless phone. “Customer.”

  She released the horse and went out of the pen, latching the gate behind her.

  Five minutes later, when she punched End and went back into the house to return the phone to its charger, her mother stopped her with a question.

  “Jessi, what happened between you and Ross down in New Brunswick?” She leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed on her chest, and faced her daughter. “I told myself I wouldn’t pry, but I can’t control the question any longer.”

  “We had a fight, a stupid fight…over Cat Holt and Clint Harrison…both of whom weren’t worth the energy we wasted on them.” She fought to keep it simple, to satisfy her mother with the fewest details possible. No matter how angry she’d been at Ross, no matter how acrimoniously they’d parted, she wouldn’t bad-mouth him to anyone. He was a friend…if nothing more.

  “So that’s it? That’s all? Jessi…”

  “Mom, I know you and the Turners had some idea of Ross and me making a couple, of settling down here to sort of unite the families, but that isn’t going to happen.”

  “But surely you can patch things up, now that that woman and Clint are no longer in the picture?”

  “It’s more than that. Ross and I could never have a proper marriage. He’s said he doesn’t want children.” She left the kitchen and went back to Maisy.

  Let that be enough to satisfy her, now and forever. Discussing Ross is just too painful.

  Chapter Nineteen

  November. Who’d once said of the month, “No warmth, no light, no cheer”?

  Ross rode Midnight Brandy through the deepening twilight along a trail bordered by bare limbed maples and birches and felt as bleak as the encroaching gloom. He’d been riding Silver daily at Ebony Farms since he’d gotten out of jail, determined to get himself back to some semblance of his former self. This week Shelby had decided he was up to riding her brother’s sometimes fractious gelding. He liked the challenge the beautiful animal offered…a great ride that kept both him and the horse on their mettle.

  But spending all that time at the farm with Shelby, Jake, Grady, and Katie Rose had changed his way of looking at life, revived more than his physical strength. The desire to go back to risking his health and even his life for the cheers of the crowd and another championship had dulled. “Been there, done that” had echoed through his mind on more than one occasion. Watching Jake interact with his family was daily giving him more and more food for thought.

  He rode into the stable yard and reined to a sharper stop than he’d intended. Someone was playing a guitar and singing…a man…a man who sounded great and stirred a memory he couldn’t quite grasp.

  Dismounting, he led Midnight Brandy into the barn, where lights were already on in the early evening gloom. At the far end, outside the Black’s stall, Jake Brooks sat in an old plastic lawn chair, guitar in his arms, strumming and singing.

  He stopped and glanced up as Brandy’s hooves clopped onto the corridor’s cement floor. A sheepish grin crossed his face.

  “’Evening.” Ross paused by his mount’s box stall. “Sounds mighty fine, my man.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve pretty much given up country music.” He put the guitar aside and leaned it against the wall. “This is just a relaxing relapse. Hey, buddy, you’re staring. Don’t you know that’s rude?” He quirked a corner of his mouth.

  “Sorry.” Ross led Brandy into his box stall and began to remove saddle and bridle. “I’ve heard that tune played and sung before, and you did it just like…”

  He snapped about and came out of the horse’s stall to stare at the man he’d come to know as Jake Brooks. “You’re Jordan Brooks! I was at your conce
rt at the Calgary Stampede six years ago. Hell, how stupid can I be! I played your CDs for hours, traveling from one rodeo to another. Jake Brooks! Damn it, of course. But…” He slowed down as the other man nodded, grinning. “You had light brown hair, a lot longer back then.”

  “And now I’m six years older and a married man with a daughter, living on a farm and teaching at the town high school. Quite a change, right?”

  “Quite a change.” Ross sucked in a deep breath. “Don’t the locals give you a hard time…starry-eyed fans and all that?”

  “At first, when I married Shelby, for a little while, but fame, as they say, is fleeting. They soon took up with the next country singer who caught their fancy. Now I’m just another guy around here.”

  “Don’t you miss it?” Ross went back into Brandy’s stall. He came out carrying the saddle, blanket, and bridle. “The crowds, the cheering, the excitement?”

  “Maybe a little at first, but I knew I was coming to the end of my performing days.” He looked down at his hands.

  “Why would you think that?” Ross put the equipment into the tack room and came back to face him. “As I recall, you were on top, six years ago. Damn, I enjoyed that song you had at the top of the charts back then.”

  “Health reason.”

  “Health reason? Did you get hurt?”

  “I did later, in that car accident Shelby mentioned. But when I first arrived here to learn to ride for a movie role, my gut was a mess. Too many hamburgers and fries after midnight, not enough sleep…the list of killers in that lifestyle goes on and on.”

  “I get it.” Ross took grooming rags and brushes from a box and headed back into Midnight Brandy’s stall. “Food on the rodeo circuit isn’t exactly gut friendly either.”

  “Shelby saved my life.” Jake strummed his guitar. “I’d gotten carried away with a self-destructive way of life at my age.”

  “That can happen.” Ross rubbed Midnight Brandy down with long, skillful strokes.

  “Has it happened to you?”

  “Not sure. Let’s just say I’m doing a lot of thinking.”

  “Well, here’s something that might speed up the process.” Jake came to lean against the stall entrance. “You’ve always wondered who bailed you out of jail a couple of months ago. It was Jessi.”