The words struck like hammer on anvil. Janie closed her eyes.
“Your mother wrote a letter to my dad about the baby she was carrying. Turns out, he never even saw it.”
“What?” She opened her eyes to stare at him. “How do you know?”
He gave a harsh chuckle. “The envelope wasn’t open when you found it. Still sealed. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“My mother got to the letter first.” Without seeing him, she would never have identified this hard voice with the man she loved. “She sent it back without showing him, or opening it.”
“Oh, Jesse.” Janie slumped back against the seat. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “I’m…surprised. I would have never expected her to be so selfish.”
“There were reasons, I’m sure—”
He held up a hand, stopping her. “Excuses, maybe. But what legitimate reason could there be for denying a child his father? This wasn’t the nineteenth century. Even thirty years ago, people could be rational about these situations.”
Janie waited through a long silence, willing to listen, hoping that being heard would soothe some of his pain.
With a sudden move, he pounded his fist against the steering wheel. “All my life, I looked up to her…to both of them. He showed me what strength and courage could accomplish, the value of hard work and a quick brain. She…”
His voice choked off. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “She taught me honesty and respect, for other people and for yourself. And all the time, all my life…” He stared straight ahead. “She lied.”
Janie put her hand on his arm. “Jesse—”
He moved away from her touch. “I trusted her,” he said after a pause, in a disbelieving voice. “I grew up with a healthy skepticism concerning J.W.—by the time I was twenty, I knew he could be a sneaky SOB. But she was never less than perfect. How could I have been so blind?”
Janie closed her empty fingers. “You’re in shock. Give yourself time to adjust.” She’d been afraid of just this reaction. A man with such high ideals couldn’t let go easily. “You’ve had a hard couple of months, Jesse. This will all make more sense when you’ve had time to think.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Or maybe I’ll go on without ever understanding. There’s always work needing to be done. If I’m lucky, I’ll just get numb.”
The bleak prospect chilled her. “The holidays are coming. You’ll be able to talk to your parents, work this out. I’ll do whatever I can—”
He started shaking his head. “Talk changes nothing. They made their decision—they chose to ignore the fact that Abigail was pregnant, that she gave birth to a son who looked just like J.W.”
Suddenly, he chuckled. “Mark was there, though. Every junior rodeo I entered, his name was on the list. He beat me, more often than not. And J.W. stood by, watching Mark Hansen take home the trophies, all the while knowing his son was the winner—the son he’d refused to claim. There is some justice, after all.”
Letting his head fall back, he didn’t say anything else for a long time. Janie waited, longing to touch him, wishing she could somehow make things better.
Knowing she was, in her own way, part of the problem.
Finally, he straightened up and blew out a breath. “You should be getting home. It’s dinnertime.”
“Come with me. I’ll make a meatloaf and mashed potatoes…”
Jesse was shaking his head. “Thanks. But I think I’ll head back to the ranch.”
The resignation in his voice scared her. “What are you thinking? About…about us?”
He sighed. “What I said in Vegas was the truth, Janie. Now is not a good time for me. I—”
“You’re wrong, Jesse. You should have someone of your own now, more than ever.” It didn’t matter that he was a rich Cody and she was just poor Janie Hansen. She loved him, and he needed that love. “Don’t shut me out.”
“I need some time,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Like you said. And some space, to figure things out.”
“You can figure things out with me.”
But Jesse shook his head. “You’ve got your own life to lead—vet school just around the corner—and your mom to take care of. The last thing you should have to deal with is my family’s troubles piled on top of your own.”
“That’s it? The end?” Could she make him angry? Would that help?
For the first time in a long time, he looked directly at her. “I’m sorry. I can’t ask a woman to share my life until I figure out who the hell I am.”
Her heart ached for him, but she ignored the urge to soften. “In other words, slam, bam, thank you, ma’am. I guess the rodeo guys were right—The Iceman can’t be melted. Silly me, for thinking I was different.”
Emotion flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t react with passion. “Take care, Janie. I’ll be thinking about you.”
She may not have made Jesse mad, but she’d worked herself up into a temper. “Go to hell,” she told him as she opened the door beside her.
“Already there, sweetheart.” Jesse laughed as she dropped down into the snow. “I’m already there.”
Janie put her whole weight into slamming the truck door as her only reply.
JESSE WAS SITTING AT HIS DESK in the old homestead when Elly slammed the front door behind her and came in.
“Hello, sister,” he said, lifting his half-empty beer in a toast. “What brings you out in the blizzard?”
“You.” She jerked off her scarf, hat and gloves, then shrugged out of her coat and dropped the whole pile on the leather couch. “What are you trying to do, Jesse?”
“Finish this beer so I can drink another one. What are you trying to do?”
“Keep this family from self-destructing.”
“You’re about thirty years too late, girl.”
She came around to where he sat with his feet up on the desk. “Come on, Jesse. You don’t have to be so bitter.”
“What have I done? I got to the bottom of the story, and now I’m at home by myself, not bothering a soul.”
“You left Mom on the verge of a breakdown. And Janie called me to say you could take care of your own damn horse. I guess that means you broke up with her.”
He took another drink. “There was nothing to break.”
“So you’re just going to pretend nothing happened between the two of you?”
“Pretty much.”
“She’s loved you most of her life, you know.”
With the bottle halfway to his mouth, Jesse paused to look at his sister. “No, I don’t.”
Elly shrugged one shoulder. “She had a crush on you in junior high. And high school. As far back as I remember, you’re the only guy Janie ever talked about.”
“That’s absurd. I was engaged to be married, and that was a long time ago.”
“I didn’t say she was smart about it.”
He sat and thought about the years, forgetting the beer. “I don’t believe it.”
“Well, you don’t have to believe me. Ask Janie. On the other hand, Mom—”
Jesse dropped his feet to the floor and stood up unsteadily. “No. I’m not talking about it.” He headed for the kitchen.
And was followed by his pesky little sister. “Can’t you see her side?”
“No.” Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, he looked around in vain for a bottle opener. “Where’d you put it?”
Elly shook her head. “Did you consider that she might not have been quite…well, mentally stable at that point? She’d suffered a miscarriage and a long episode of depression.”
“Self-defense by reason of insanity? I’m not sure that’s a legal option. Give me the opener, Ellen.”
She slapped the tool into his open palm.
“Ow.”
“You’re a self-righteous jerk, Jesse Cody. You haven’t exactly been the soul of generosity yourself, as far as Mark Hansen is concerned.”
“We don’t get
along.”
“Because you’re jealous of his talent. Always have been.”
Jesse set his teeth and glared at his sister. “Get out.”
“Don’t order me around. I’ve got as much right to be here as you do.”
“Fine. I’ll get out.” Keeping hold of the bottle and opener, he went to the hall closet and grabbed his coat, then headed for the front door.
“Jesse.” Elly came after him again. “Where are you going now?”
“Someplace peaceful.” Pulling his truck keys from his pocket, he stepped out onto the porch. The snow was still falling, and they had close to a foot on the ground already. “Drive safe,” he called back over his shoulder. “See you Christmas Eve.”
Climbing into the truck, he started the engine. “Maybe.”
THE CALLS STARTED COMING in as early as 5:00 a.m. Fortunately, Jesse had slept on the couch in the barn lounge, so he was there to answer the phone.
“Hey, boss, I’ve got five-foot drifts out here. If you can handle the hay without me…”
“Boss, my truck engine’s frozen. I’ll try to get there for the dinner shift…”
And then a call stranger than the others. “Jesse?”
He scrubbed his face with one hand. “Yeah.”
“It’s Mark. I…uh…figured with all this snow, your cowboys might have a hard time getting there. You need help with the feeding?”
“Could be. Is it still snowing?”
“You bet.”
Jesse fell back flat on the sofa. “Great. I’ll probably try to move out about daylight, if you can get here by then.”
“I will.”
With the dial tone still buzzing in his ear, Jesse wondered why, of all his siblings, the one to call and offer help was the least connected of them all. Maybe the rest of them took for granted that the work would get done? It could be that the Cody kids were all just a little bit spoiled. Even him.
But the Hansens never had a chance to be spoiled. Abby had probably loved them for all she was worth, but she didn’t have much besides love to give them. Janie worked hard for everything she got. Her brother, too. Jesse had always hated admitting the fact.
Mark arrived at the cattle barn as Jesse sat in the hay truck, warming up the engine. When he climbed into the passenger seat, he handed Jesse a tall travel mug, warm to the touch.
“Nicki made coffee.” They both slurped the hot brew for a few minutes.
“I appreciate it,” Jesse said as the caffeine began to take hold. “I forgot to turn the pot on before I fell asleep.”
“No problem. You ready?”
“Pretty much. I guess we’d better get this done.”
Not so long ago, hay for herds of cattle would have been fed in small square bales, thrown out of the back of trucks by freezing cowboys. Modern improvements on the system included a lift for huge round bales, allowing the hay to be transported to pastures and unrolled in a strip on the ground for the cattle to eat. A couple of honks on the horn would bring a herd running.
A crew of just two men still required a fair number of trips to get hay to all of the Cottonwood cattle and horses. Jesse and Mark reached the last pasture shortly before noon. The snow had stopped for the time being, and they sat on the truck bed in the cold for a few minutes, gathering the energy to drive back to the barn.
“Hear that?” Mark asked, cocking his head.
When the wind died down, Jesse thought he heard a cow bawling. “Where’s it coming from?”
Mark shook his head. “I can’t tell.”
“We won’t hear her inside the truck.”
“Nope.”
“That means searching on horseback.”
“Yep.”
They both swore and hopped down to get inside and drive back for horses.
“Nicki packed up some lunch, too.” Mark retrieved a couple of grocery sacks from his truck when they got back to the barn. “I don’t know about you, but my belt buckle’s bumping against my spine at this point.”
“I always knew she was a smart girl…er, woman.” Jesse took one of the bags and, out of habit, led Mark toward his office. Realizing, he stopped at the doorway. “We can go to the lounge—”
“Nah. This is fine.” Once Jesse claimed the desk chair, Mark sat down across from him. “I just have to get some food in my belly.”
They wolfed down the roast beef sandwiches in silence, devouring potato chips and Christmas cookies and shiny red apples with few comments. Once the bags were empty, Jesse sat back with a groan.
“That feels so good. I don’t remember the last time I ate a meal.” He didn’t want to remember.
“Yeah, I expect I’ll have a hard time keeping my weight down for the bulls with Nicki feeding me.”
“You’re gonna keep riding?”
Mark shrugged. “It’s fun. I might not push as hard as I did this year. How many times do I need to lose the Finals?”
“Good point.” Jesse yawned and stretched. “Much as I’d like to take a nap, I guess we’d better go back out and make sure that cow’s not in trouble.”
“Right behind you.”
Jesse fetched two of the best cow ponies in from the pasture, showed Mark where to find saddle and bridle, and set about getting his own mount ready. The gray gelding he’d chosen, Ghost, knew the work and could be depended on to stand when necessary. But he wasn’t Sundae.
“Wish I was saddling up my best worker.” He slipped Ghost’s bit into the horse’s mouth.
“Yeah, it’s a shame he’s injured. Janie really likes that pinto. Sundae, right? And I’ve got Beaut, here?” He pointed to the horse he’d just saddled, a dark gold palomino with a silver-blond mane. “As in Beautiful?”
Jesse nodded. Maybe if he didn’t talk for a few minutes, the mention of Janie would just slide by without further discussion.
No such luck. “You’re wrong to hold her responsible for this mess,” Mark said quietly. “Nothing would be different if she’d told you about the letter two weeks ago. Or four.”
Jaw locked, Jesse led Ghost toward the outside door.
Mark and Beaut followed. “Janie’s pretty torn up,” he said, when they both were in the saddle.
“There’s a lot of that going around.”
In a sudden move, Mark swung Beaut around to block Ghost’s progress. The horses stood nose to flank while the two men glared at each other.
“I promised her I wasn’t going to hit you,” Mark said through clenched teeth. “But you’re making that a hard promise to keep.”
“I don’t want to talk about your sister.” Jesse turned Ghost’s head, but Beaut moved at the same time—another block.
“So you can just listen. Janie’s as honest as they come. She did not deliberately hold that letter back, any more than I did. You need to come down off your high horse and give us all a break, Cody. You’re no better than any body else, maybe not so good as some. Deal.”
Then he turned Beaut’s head away and went jogging over the snow, following the tire tracks from the truck’s earlier return.
Jesse seethed for a couple of minutes, then urged Ghost into the same gait. They had a job to do, and sitting around arguing in the cold would not get it done.
Riding around in a pasture until dark didn’t get it done, either. They found the cow soon enough, standing by herself in the corner under a tree, bawling. Jesse got a rope around her head and held her in place while Mark took a closer look.
“Early calf. She’s got milk,” he said. “Think it died?”
“Probably. Damn, I hate that.” Jesse sighed. “And I hate thinking about a newborn calf freezing to death at Christmas. Let’s tie her here and see if we can find a carcass.”
The snow started up again just as the light began to fail. Now they were searching in the snow-filtered twilight for a calf no bigger than a herding dog. A dog would have been useful, but Jesse’s Buddy had died of old age last spring and he hadn’t yet had the heart to find a new one.
He snorted
at his own whiny attitude. Poor, poor pitiful me.
Full dark came down, with snowflakes as heavy as insects landing on their faces. Jesse had lost the feeling in his fingers and feet and his butt hours ago. Giving up had never been part of his vocabulary, but maybe this was the first time. He just didn’t have the heart to keep trying.
He and Mark had separated, riding in opposite directions along the perimeter fence, in case the calf had gotten snagged in the wire. At first, Jesse didn’t believe the cry he heard in the wind could be real, and he rode on along the fence, squinting against the heavy wet flakes.
Then the call came again, closer. “Mark?” he shouted, standing up in the stirrups.
“Northwest,” he heard. Or thought he did.
Blinded and freezing, he let Ghost have his head as they loped toward the farthest corner of the pasture. He saw Beaut at the last minute as he stood braced against the wind, with Mark beside him, down on his haunches in the snow.
“The calf?” Jesse dropped out of the saddle and promptly fell to his knees.
Mark threw him a grin. “Happened to me, too. Yeah. This little guy found a gully to huddle in. I guess his mama wandered off and then couldn’t find him under the snow.”
“Still alive?” Jesse could hardly speak for the pins and needles in his feet.
“Yeah. But he’s got to get warm fast. I’ll carry him. You hand him up.”
The calf barely protested being picked up by a human and lifted onto the front of Beaut’s saddle. Jesse, on the other hand, swore the snow blue as he pulled himself back onto Ghost with his painful hands and feet.
“Let’s get the cow,” he groaned. “And get out of the cold.”
Mama didn’t like being pulled along by a rope, especially not in the wake of a horse, and she bleated continuously during the endless ride back to the barn. Speed wasn’t really an option, so they ambled, slowly, and Jesse nearly fell asleep with the swaying of the saddle.
They’d probably gone less than five miles from the barn in their search, but five miles on horseback in daylight didn’t take nearly as long as five miles in the dark, on tired horses in deep snow, with a cow in tow. Jesse actually began to wonder if they would make it. The calf had to be dead by now, though Mark hadn’t said anything. Men had frozen to death closer to home than this, out in the elements.
Jesse: Merry Christmas, Cowboy Page 16