“Huh?” Mack set the loaves of bread on the counter and ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. “You mean...like growing pains? I had those as a boy.” He buttoned his shirt and tucked it in his jeans.
She pursed her lips. “I don’t know about growing boys, but the teenage years can be awkward for a girl who sees changes in her friends and not in herself.”
“You, uh, mean like getting, uh, breasts?” Mack gestured with his hands, but his face turned red.
J.J. found his discomfort endearing. “There may be some anxiety about that, yeah, but by and large with girls it’s more emotional. Some navigate this stage easier than others. Excuse me, Mack, maybe we can talk about this later. I need to help Erma.” J.J. left him looking perplexed, and hoped she hadn’t muddied the waters too badly. But she knew that she wasn’t the right person to help Zoey Bannerman get her heart’s desire—a mother. Lordy, now that she’d opened her mouth, she might be stuck trying to tell Mack that he needed to find a wife. Impossible!
She might have been able to let go of the past—if Mack hadn’t kissed her last night. It clearly hadn’t affected him the way it did her. For J.J. the kiss had brought back their shared dreams. Coming here, spending the day in Mack’s home, had dredged up memories of a time she’d valued. He’d probably been bombarded with guilt over what he’d done.
She thought she’d convinced herself that her career was enough—that she didn’t need a man to fulfill her. Kissing Mack had caused doubts. So, the minute he returned from moving his cattle, she’d take the required photographs and get out of here. Get away from Mack.
“Erma, I brought coffee,” she sang out, forcing herself to sound lighthearted. “I hope you still like yours with a splash of cream.”
“I can’t believe you’d remember such a trivial thing about me, considering how long ago you took off to make your mark on the world.” Erma, in her wheelchair, accepted the mug. Her observation came with a raised eyebrow that J.J. sensed was a request for an explanation. Erma wanted to know why she’d flown from Texas, but J.J. didn’t feel she ought to talk about it. If Mack hadn’t explained their breakup, why should she?
Erma doted on Mack. So if he’d kept her in the dark about his deceitful ways, J.J. wasn’t about to enlighten her. “Photographers pay attention to detail,” she said, glossing over Erma’s veiled question. “I’ll put our mugs here and find you some clothes. What would you like?”
“It’s supposed to be hot again. I have lightweight gray sweatpants in my top dresser drawer. They’ll be loose on my bad hip. There should be a T-shirt in the closet.”
“Sounds good.”
They spent the next several minutes trading Erma’s nightwear for sweats.
“Wow, your bruises are even more colorful today,” J.J. said, taking care when she slid the sweatpants over Erma’s hips.
“Moving hurts like the devil. Up to now I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”
“You’re not sick, which is why you’re so impatient.” J.J. found it easier to help Erma into a roomy red T-shirt. “Where’s your brush? A big plus is that your hair is naturally curly.”
“Thank the Lord for small favors.” She opened a drawer in the bathroom vanity and swept a brush through her iron-gray hair a few times. “I feel better, thanks to you, Jill.” Erma reached for her coffee. “A few more swallows of this and I can help out with breakfast.”
“Get a good grip on your mug before I wheel you to the kitchen. Mack’s already there. He intends to serve Benny and the guys toast and eggs. After my meat loaf, I think he’s afraid I’d make hockey-puck biscuits. I’d never admit it to him, Erma, but between us, I’ve only ever baked biscuits that come from a can.”
“Stick with me, girl. You’ll be a ranch cook in no time,” Erma said as they rounded the corner.
“Jill’s not going to be here that long.” Mack rose from where he knelt pouring kibble in Jiggs’s bowl. The dog rushed in to eat. “You look cheerier today, Erma,” Mack said. “I hope you feel better.”
She made a face at him. “The pain is tolerable. Even so, don’t you be running Jill off. I’ve been telling you that you need someone just like her—a woman with vigor and vitality.”
J.J. hushed Erma by suddenly sliding a breadboard across the arms of her wheelchair. “Tell me what you need for biscuits. I’ll set you up, then fire up the griddle and scramble some eggs. Will Zoey be down soon?” J.J. asked Mack. “If so, maybe she can pour everyone orange juice.”
“Lately Zoey’s not an early bird,” he said. “I’ll pour the juice. What about fruit, Erma? Do we have any to put out?”
“There’s canned peaches and pears in the pantry. Open whichever you want. And get out black beans to go along with leftover biscuits for your ride.” Bending to the side, Erma winced, but still retrieved a bowl from a lower cabinet, along with cookie sheets. She handed both to J.J., who rushed to assist her.
“So, you’re going on horseback?” J.J. was surprised. “I assumed you’d drive.”
“That’s city-girl thinking,” he said with a wink at Erma. Turning back to J.J., he asked, “Have you even seen a horse since you left Texas, let alone ridden one?”
“I have.” J.J. frowned in indignation, then shrugged. “Okay, rarely. I rode in Italy and a couple of times on other remote shoots.” She passed Erma the ingredients she requested, and a fork to stir with.
“Hmm, we may have to cancel having you take pictures of me with the herd,” Mack said, pausing as he dumped pears into a bowl. “I thought once the cattle were calm, you and I could ride out to the draw and back in one day. But if you haven’t ridden in a while, you’d end up too saddle-sore to sit for a cross-country flight.”
“Don’t sell me short,” J.J. said, further irritated because the sight of his large hands around the can made her insides squirm. “Magazine photography isn’t all glamour. I’ve trekked into some wild and woolly spots, and I always carry my own equipment.”
“Touchy, I see,” Mack drawled.
“You’re darned tootin’.” She tossed back some of the Texas lingo she hadn’t fully lost. “I’m no hothouse flower, Mack. If I wasn’t needed here today, I’d ride along and photograph your whole trail ride. And I wouldn’t need special privileges.”
“If it bothers you to stay behind with Zoey and Erma,” he snapped, “I’ll leave the guys to calm the herd and ride back here this afternoon.”
“I’m not bothered.” She drew back, giving him a puzzled look. “Are you bothered about leaving me here? Are you afraid I’ll run off with the Bannerman silver?” Cracking the eggs, she stirred them vigorously, then stared at Mack, who remained silent. Of all the nerve. She wasn’t the one who’d broken their trust.
“What’s with you two carping at each other like a couple of caged bobcats? Of course we three will be fine,” Erma said huffily. “Jill, would you hand me an egg, salt, cream of tartar and the milk? And then, please preheat the oven to four hundred and fifty.”
After glaring at Mack again, J.J. got the ingredients. “You make mixing biscuits look so easy, Erma.”
“This is my grandmother’s recipe. I’ve been making these drop biscuits almost from the time I learned to walk.”
Mack laughed. “You told Trevor you were six when you first made them. Next time you tell the story you’ll have come out of your mama’s womb making biscuits.”
“Smarty pants. Point is, I’ve made this recipe so often I could make them in the dark.”
“And they’re always good,” he said. “Jill, you don’t cook?”
“I’m not home long enough at any one stretch,” J.J. said. “I cooked when I was younger, even though my mom used to say the only reason we had a kitchen was because it came with the house.”
“How are your folks?” Mack asked, his voice a rumble from across the room.
“It’s just
Mom now. Rex died last fall.”
Mack stepped up to the counter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Is Bonnie still in Lubbock?”
J.J. nodded. “I found her a condo in a nice retirement village. At first she was a basket case, but that’s all changed. I spoke to her yesterday and her calendar is so full I’m not sure she’ll be able to fit me in for a visit.”
She’d delivered the information with a smile, but Mack sensed an underlying hurt. Bonnie Walker had always been selfish, and Jill was often an afterthought. A lesser person would have written her mother off. In fact, the day his ring arrived in the mail, he’d called Bonnie. She’d said Jill jumped at a marvelous opportunity. In the following days, rumors circulated among their friends that Jill had chosen a career over marriage.
He was on the verge of demanding she ’fess up herself, but Benny and the men trooped in and brought him back to earth. Benny and Erma knew some of his history with Jill. But to Eldon and Trevor, nothing was sacred. The way Jill dumped him had left Mack skittish, and he’d rather they didn’t know. He didn’t need their teasing.
Within minutes everyone sat at the table. The room fell silent as they all tucked in. The crew polished off their breakfast in fewer minutes than it had taken to prepare. Then the men said goodbye and departed.
“It’s time for another round of pain pills,” Erma said, shifting in her chair to ease her sore hip. “Jill, will you pack up the leftover biscuits for the men?”
“Okay. Erma, do you want the full dosage?”
“Yes. I’m ready to go lie down.”
J.J. got the bottle and shook out two tablets. “With nothing going on here today, you can sleep until noon. Extra rest will probably do you good.”
“There’re eggs to gather,” Erma fretted. “The men won’t take all the horses, so they’ll need to be fed. And it’s wash day. But I suppose that can wait.”
Mack came in the back door in time to hear Erma. “I fed the horses. Zoey can feed the chickens and pick up eggs. The wash...” He shook his head. “That’s too much to ask you to do for my family.” He hung his straw cowboy hat on a rack by the door.
“I’m quite able to do the laundry, Mack.”
“Absolutely,” Erma said, glowering at him. “As far as the wash goes, though, we need to conserve water due to the drought. We should wash clothes less often.”
“How bad is the drought?” J.J. asked. “I heard some men discussing it at the café in town. That’s why I questioned whether you’d hold your charity event, Mack. One of the men said you might have to sell some cattle early because of the water shortage.”
“I wondered what prompted that remark. It’s toughest on the ranchers who run free-range cattle. I lease summer grazing in the high desert where water is a bit more plentiful. And thanks to Turkey Creek, our wells aren’t dry. But the short answer is drought is never good if you’re in the business of ranching.”
J.J. nodded. “I shouldn’t have run the dishwasher last night. With just the three of us here while you’re away, we’ll stack our breakfast and lunch dishes and wash them with our supper dishes.”
“Now you’re thinking like a West Texan.” Mack grinned.
J.J. sniffed regally.
“I’m, uh, going to run up and tell Zoey so long,” he said abruptly. “I’ll try to get home today, but if I don’t show up by suppertime, eat without me.”
“Could you give us a ring and let us know?” J.J. asked, pausing as she wheeled Erma into the alcove. “So we can cook the right amount.”
“Cell service is sketchy, as you know. But I’ll try.” Mack turned and started down the hall.
“Oh, Mack,” J.J. called belatedly. “If we find ourselves with time to kill, would you mind if I take some photographs of Zoey? She seems to believe that other girls her age are...cuter. I’m sure they’re not. But professional equipment does wonders to bring out a subject’s best features. I thought I could take a few photos and maybe use your printer later so Zoey can see herself the way other people do.”
Mack frowned throughout her explanation and J.J. expected him to refuse. She was pleasantly surprised when he removed the hat he’d grabbed from the rack, slapped it on his thigh and said, “Zoey never likes her school pictures. If anyone can take a photo she’ll like, it’d be you, Jilly.”
She nodded and continued toward Erma’s room.
“Hey,” he shouted after her, “you won’t dress her up like one of those kid models on TV, will you?”
“I’d never do that.” She leaned around the wall and hoped Mack saw her sincerity. His remark dented her anticipation at working with Zoey. Mack didn’t trust her, and she honestly didn’t understand why. She wasn’t the one who broke promises—and hearts.
“I happen to think she looks fine as she is...” Mack’s voice trailed off.
J.J., who knew Zoey didn’t feel she was up to par with other girls in her class, wondered if she should have shared that with Mack. She worried she was getting in deeper with this family than was wise.
Erma didn’t comment one way or the other, and once in her room she declined to change into sleepwear. “I’ll nap a while and hopefully by lunch I’ll feel like joining you and Zoey.”
J.J. assisted Erma into bed. She covered her with a light blanket and turned on the overhead fan. “If you need anything while Zoey and I are doing chores outside, you have my phone number. I’ll check on you often. I’d like to do some of those photos of Zoey indoors, and some outside.”
“You spending time with Zoey will be good for her,” Erma said. “I love that little monkey to pieces, but kids today aren’t like kids were when I grew up. The whole world is different. I see that every time I turn on the TV. Zoey was a happy child. Now she acts like she’s carrying around a weight.” Erma yawned. “For years I’ve been telling Mack that girl needs a mother. What do you think? I say a young man and an old woman raising a girl from infancy is like trying to load frogs in a wheelbarrow.”
J.J. laughed in spite of herself. She wasn’t about to give an opinion on Mack’s marrying again. “From the little I’ve seen, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself and Mack.”
Erma burrowed into the pillow and closed her eyes. “Mack says the same thing. Only he says I should stop meddling in his love life. I reckon if he had a love life I’d stay out of it.” She sighed and fell silent.
Expecting more, J.J. waited. But Erma had fallen asleep, so J.J. slipped out of the room. She got to work clearing the kitchen table.
“There you are,” Mack said, sauntering in from the hallway. He removed his battered straw hat and fiddled nervously with the rolled brim. “I told Zoey you asked to take her picture. She shot out of bed quicker than I’ve seen her do in ages. She’ll be down shortly, but I told her chores come first.” Mack put on his hat again. “I, uh, decided I won’t break my neck getting back tonight. More than likely, Benny and I will ride in around noontime tomorrow if that’s okay with you.”
J.J. glanced up sharply from the stack of plates she carried to the counter. “It’s your call, Mack. All I’m doing is hanging around until you slow down enough for me to do the job I was sent to do.” She passed him two bags of biscuits and the canned beans.
Taking them, Mack said, “Nevertheless, you’re doing me a huge favor when you certainly have no reason to put yourself out for me and my family.”
His cool insinuation that nothing personal remained that could allow for friendship cut deep into J.J.’s heart. She wanted to ask why things had gone so wrong between them, but the clip-clop of horses outside, along with Benny shouting Mack’s name, stopped her.
“I have to go,” he said. “By the way, Delaney will drop by the barn later. She may or may not stop at the house.”
“Delaney?” J.J. had heard the name, but couldn’t place where.
“Dr. Blair, our vet.” Mack open
ed the door and stepped out onto the back porch.
J.J. followed and saw him put the food in leather saddlebags before he swung into the saddle in one easy, fluid motion that did funny things to her stomach. Darn, but he looked good sitting tall astride a powerful black horse. Maybe because she’d been born and raised a Texan, seeing a man on a horse affected her equilibrium far more than men in three-piece suits striding purposefully down Madison Avenue.
Benny tipped his battered hat to her. Mack did the same before sending his mount off at a trot. He flashed J.J. a smile that left her even weaker in the knees. She stood in the doorway until the men rounded the barn and disappeared from sight. She might not have gone inside had Zoey not bounded out shouting her name.
“Well, good morning. Your dad just headed out. Yesterday he said they’d leave when it was still dark, but look—there’s a beautiful orange sunrise beginning to streak the sky.”
Zoey pranced around on tiptoe. “Daddy said Eldon and Trevor left earlier with the herd. And he said you wanted to take pictures of me! I wish Brandy could come over so you could take some of her, too. But I talked to her last night and she has to help her mom pick vegetables today. This weekend she’s working to earn half the price of a leather jacket she saw at Dillard’s in Lubbock. It’s so cool. But she’s gonna miss spending today with you. That’s better than any leather jacket.”
“We have chores to do first, Zoey. Do you get paid for feeding the chickens and gathering eggs? If so, you can save up for your own jacket.”
Zoey’s demeanor changed once they returned to the kitchen. “My dad doesn’t believe in paying me to do chores. He says I should help out because it’s the Bannerman ranch and I’m a Bannerman. He has a whole lecture about profits going toward everything we do, like what we eat and wear and stuff.”
Texas Dad (Fatherhood) Page 8