by Ivy Jordan
“Baby, you’re amazing,” James gloated.
“How long do you need out here?” I asked before heading inside.
“Probably an hour,” he sighed.
I waved to the older gentlemen, the one I assumed was Doc, and headed back to the house.
Inside, James had thawed out two large steaks in the fridge and had an assortment of fresh veggies in a basket on the counter. I peeked out the kitchen window to the back deck. There was a charcoal grill out there that I was certain he planned on using for the steaks. Men always loved their meat grilled, and of course, loved to prepare it themselves. But, I had no idea how to work a grill, let alone ensure something was cooked properly on one.
A small radio sat on the counter near the stove, one so old I wasn’t even sure how to work it. But, I wanted music, something to inspire me on what to make, and something to kill the eerie silence of the small house. I picked the radio up, turning it in every direction as I searched for the power button. My thumb rolled against a plastic wheel on the side, and suddenly there was static coming through the speakers. The other side offered a smaller wheel, one that when turned, changed the station. I settled on a country station with upbeat music and turned the volume up loud enough to drown out the quiet.
I continued to look out the window and stare at the grill. There was a lighter on the counter and a bag of charcoal by the door. It was what he wanted, and the thought of a grilled steak made my mouth water. I’d watched enough men start a grill to know how to stack the coals, and starting it was easy with the bottle of lighter fluid on the counter by the lighter.
I shrugged off the idea and started the oven. Two large potatoes in the basket were perfect for baking, so I rummaged through the drawers and cabinets until I found aluminum foil. I stabbed them each with a fork a few times and then wrapped them in the foil before placing them in the oven.
The grill, if I decided to use it, would need to heat up, but it was still too soon. I worked on prepping the vegetables in the basket for a salad. I started a pot of water for a couple eggs to add to the salad, and fried a few pieces of bacon to add to the baked potatoes. I set aside one of the pieces and the bacon fat to use for a warm bacon dressing.
My time had come. If I didn’t start the grill, it would be too late. I took a deep breath, gathered the essentials, and headed out the door. I stood there, staring at the round red grill as if it were an alien. I sighed as I picked up the lid, ready to at least give it a shot. I stacked the coals, doused them in lighter fluid, and then used a long thin twig from the ground and a piece of the charcoal bag to start a small flame. I reached towards the coals with the stick aflame, and with a large puff, it was lit. I replaced the lid and rushed back inside. Adrenaline rushed through my veins like a drug. The music blared a country song I’d never heard before. I liked the tune, and the lyrics were fun and flirty.
I started dancing, carefree and happy, feelings I wasn’t accustomed to having, at least not that I could remember.
My fingers tossed the salad of spinach leaves, kale, onions, and carrots. The eggs were boiled, cooled, and cut in half to go on each plate, and the bacon grease heated with honey, sugar, and vinegar. I pulled the potatoes from the oven with the only mitt I could find. They were hot in my hand with the thin, outdated mitt, causing me to squeal as I dropped them on the counter to cool.
I continued to dance as I watched the grill from inside the kitchen, my hips swaying to the beat of the song, and my heart filled with a strange, but comforting happiness.
Clap, Clap, Clap
I turned towards the applause, my cheeks burning red and my eyes wide as they landed on James. He stood at the front door, still dirty, maybe even dirtier. His eyes sparkled against the light of the old chandelier that hung over the table, and his skin glowed as the moonlight pushed in from behind him.
“You startled me,” I gasped, trying to gather my composure.
“Not my intention. I could’ve watched you all night,” he smiled.
My heart fluttered, my knees weakened, and that strange, comforting happiness grew larger in my heart.
“I need to clean up,” he held his arms out from his sides, shrugging as he grinned in my direction.
I nodded, unable to speak until clearing my throat.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” I blushed.
James disappeared down the hall, and I pushed into high gear to get everything ready.
Outside, the grill was nice and hot, so I dropped the steaks onto the grate and covered with the lid. I decided on six minutes on one side, then four on the other for a nice medium rare cut of meat. I managed to plate the salads before turning the steaks, and prepped the potatoes before I had to pull them from the fire. I wasn’t sure how to put the grill out, so I just left the lid on the ground and went inside with the meat.
“Something smells amazing,” James hollered from down the hall.
Pride swirled around me like a school kid that just won the dodgeball game in gym class. I plated our meals, ensuring to wipe any smudges from the edges of the old-fashioned dishes. Just as James entered the kitchen, everything was on the table, and I placed two cold beers by each plate.
Strong arms gripped me, squeezed me into them, and left me weak when they released. The smell of soap, familiar soap, wafted under my nose as James hugged me from behind. He leaned down, gently moving my hair from my shoulder, and then kissing softly the small mole he seemed fascinated with from day one.
He apologized for not having things ready when I arrived, and for it being too late to take a ride. I didn’t mind.
“I’ve never been very into cooking,” I admitted.
“I wouldn’t believe it lookin’ at this meal,” he howled.
“I actually enjoyed it,” I smiled.
“It sure looked like it,” he winked.
I was interested in what he was doing in the barn earlier, but he assured me it was better to talk about my day during dinner, and he’d fill me in on the couch after everything had digested.
As I rattled on about case logs, city ordinances, and a variety of other mundane day-to-day stuff that my job entailed, it occurred to me that James was probably bored to death.
“I’m sorry. I know there’s nothing interesting about my job,” I laughed.
“That’s not true. I think what you do is amazing,” he smiled sincerely.
“Not amazing enough to get an answer on your court date,” I sighed.
“You will,” he insisted.
“Now, this steak, I have to tell you, it’s perfect. Everything is perfect,” James blurted with a roaring hum.
My cheeks blushed.
I’d been picking around at my salad and potato, a little afraid to cut into my own steak. I watched James eat, shoving pieces in his mouth before the last ones were chewed, but I wasn’t sure if he was enjoying it that much, or if he was just that hungry. It was nice to hear that he was impressed.
I cut into my perfectly cooked steak and was impressed with myself.
“I never used a grill before,” I admitted.
“Shewee! Everything you do, you do better than most,” James smiled as his eyes danced on mine.
That could’ve been my creed all through school, and even after. Everything I did, I did try to do better than most, and usually, I succeeded. Somehow, James enjoying my steak was more satisfying in that moment than any other I could remember.
After dinner, James helped me clean up and then guided me to the couch while he started a fire in the old stone fireplace. The window was open in the kitchen, and the night air had cooled quite a bit, causing the house to chill. A fire sounded like the perfect way to warm things up, and it didn’t hurt that it was romantic as hell.
He insisted I kick off my shoes and stretch out on the cushions with my feet in his lap. I protested at first, not one to have ever had a foot rub, but eventually gave in as James convinced me that I deserved it for working so hard to feed him.
His large hands massaged my ti
red tiny feet while he told me about the heifer and why he had his hand so far inside of her. I was disgusted, embarrassed, and a little intrigued by his story. There was something so soft about a man who would display his humility to provide comfort to a beast.
“So, she’s okay now?” I asked.
“Yeah, a little sore probably,” he chuckled.
I laughed as I looked down at his hand, larger than the foot he held.
“I’m sure,” I laughed.
“Your turn,” I insisted, motioning towards his feet.
He shook his head, his cheeks burning red as he protested.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” I pushed.
He reluctantly put his feet in my lap, and our legs entangled as we both found our comfort spots.
My hands were so small compared to his feet, but I was determined to make him feel as good as he had me. I worked my fingers into his skin, massaging slowly as he talked about Doc, and how close he was to Jasper.
I asked him about his time there with the old man. I wanted to know everything, about where he came from, why he ended up on the ranch, and what made him want to stay.
James told me about a young boy with no direction, and no good role model to point him in one. A drunken father, a mother that passed when he was too small to remember, he knew he was destined to be a nobody. Those are the words he recalled his dad telling him over and over again.
“I was just looking for work, a reason to quit school and start earning enough money to leave when I turned eighteen,” he sighed.
My heart ached for him, imagining what his life must’ve been like. I’d wanted to run to, to escape my parents as soon as I was of age, but not because they beat me down, but because they held me to such a high standard it felt as though I was on a pedestal. I started to feel lucky to have parents so enthralled in my future, in my success.
“Old man Jasper hired me. He was a mean old coot, stubborn as a mule, and hard as hell to please,” James chuckled as he thought back to the man he thought of as a father.
He told me how when it came time to get paid, Martin Jasper drove him to the bank and made him open an account. One he could use, spend however he pleased, but the other he couldn’t make any withdrawals without the old man’s presence.
“I was so mad I wanted to hit him, to quit right there and tell him to shove his job where the sun didn’t shine,” James sighed.
“Why didn’t you?” I questioned.
“Because he kept telling me he believed in me, and that he knew I could do better, and he wouldn’t stop riding me until I saw it too,” he leaned up and smiled.
His story continued, adding how Jasper talked to him about the military, and how he made him save money each week, more than he was ever allowed to keep. By the time he was of age, he had plenty money to leave town as he planned to, to leave the small crap town he once hated. Somewhere along the way, Martin Jasper made him believe in himself, and he decided to join the Navy with the goal of becoming a SEAL.
“I was living here by then, and it was nice to know I had a home to come back to,” he whispered, his voice starting to get sleepy.
I watched his eyes grown heavy as he trailed off on the details of when he returned, of how Jasper was sick and hadn’t told him through any letters. He fell asleep, snuggled peacefully into the throw pillow that had an embroidered sheep on it.
My eyes were starting to close as I watched James sleep. My heart was heavy with the realization that I had gotten myself into real trouble. I’d fallen for him, somewhere along the line I let myself become attached, involved, and hopeful.
This, whatever this was, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing. Not only were we two very different people, but an age gap close to ten years tore between us.
I turned myself on the couch, sliding into James’s arms with my cheek pressed against his chest. A decision became clear at that moment. No matter what this was, even if it was just sex. I was going to enjoy the hell out of while it lasted.
I closed my eyes and tried not to picture a future with James, but it was all I could see.
Chapter Twenty-One
James
The morning rode in like an untamed mare, hard and unforgiving. I’d tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep without Evelyn by my side. Since Thursday, she seemed much more relaxed and had even spent most of her weekend out on the ranch.
Sunday afternoon she left me alone, and for the first time since Jasper passed, I noticed just how quiet and lonely the ranch could be.
My fingers slid up the side of my face and into my hair as I stretched to wake up. It was a long night, and I knew it would be an even longer day.
The coffee pot blinked red to warn me it would shut down soon. Wow. I slept later than I thought. A hot cup of the black gold in my favorite mug, a couple good stretches, and a peek out at the land that was mine, hopefully for good, and I was awake enough to turn on the computer.
An e-mail from Evelyn took immediate priority over the others. I clicked it open and nearly jumped from my chair. She got a court date, just like she promised. Two days, that wasn’t long to prepare, but most of the hard work was done.
Evelyn ended the e-mail explaining that she was on an urgent case and wouldn’t be able to talk to me on the phone today, but I could e-mail her any questions or concerns.
I had plenty of concerns, but she’d already done everything she could to soothe them. Questions, yeah, I had a few, but none that involved the case.
I couldn’t concentrate to read the other e-mails, so I closed up the laptop and headed into the kitchen. Ripe apples that Evelyn picked from the trees in back of the house were neatly stacked in a bushel basket. I loaded up what I could carry and headed towards the barn.
Queen was holding her head high, regal almost. She snorted as I walked towards her as if to greet me, or to ask if the apples I held were for her.
“You want one of these?” I teased, holding one just out of her reach.
Another snort told me she did indeed want one of the apples.
“Here ya go, girl,” I let her eat from my palm.
“I got one for you too,” I sighed at Gulliver, who was of course, trying to shove his thick head through the small slats of the gate.
Queen ate quickly, ready for another one. I knew she was worried I’d give more to Gulliver than to her. I laughed as I fed her another, and then made her watch while I fed Gulliver his share.
“You miss Evelyn?” I asked him, running the flat of his long snout.
“I do too,” I replied without his answer.
“She’ll be back again. Don’t you worry old buddy, she wouldn’t leave you here all alone. If we’re lucky, maybe she’ll be here to ride you all the time one day,” I sighed.
Queen snorted in disapproval, her gray ears standing at attention as she kicked her front leg in the hay.
“Oh relax, old girl, I told you…you’ll always be my first love, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for another,” I smiled.
Her eyes were fixated on the remaining apple in my hand. Someone was going to get more than their fair share, and she looked determined on making it her.
“It’s still early though, right?” I asked Gulliver, who was clueless about the apple in my hand.
He bit at his backside, his lips curling up around his teeth so high on the gums he looked like Mr. Ed.
I laughed as I bit into the apple, sending Queen into a fit. Her legs kicked into the wood of her stall and a loud neigh echoed through the barn. Gulliver stopped what he was doing to look up at her, his ears floppy and ridiculous for a horse of his breeding.
“Relax,” I sighed, extending the apple to Queen to calm her down.
“So, do you think I should tell her how I feel?” I asked Queen as I fed her the apple.
A snort pushed through her nostrils, one I couldn’t tell if it was from contentment, agreement, or disapproval. She seemed only interested in the apple, spitting the core to the ground once she
was done chewing.
Everyone in the barn was fed, watered, and groomed for the day, so I walked to the smaller one to check on Gretta and the baby calf.
I watched the future bull bouncing around the pen, happy, healthy, and filled with life. Gretta looked exhausted as she moved towards the bin of hay I spread out for her. I patted her on the head as she ate, not even trying to admit I knew how she felt. I had no clue what it was like to raise a little one, and probably never would.
Pedro and Kyle pulled up in a beat-up pickup as I left the small barn. I waved to them as I headed to the garage to get the supplies for the day.
The fence repairs were finally complete, and now a new coat of paint would give this ranch some life back. I pulled down two paint sprayers from the loft and then went on a search for paint.
“We paint day?” Pedro asked, his English a bit broken.
I nodded.
Finally, I found the large container of exterior paint under the old tractor trailer. Pedro helped as I gripped the large tub and pulled it out from its hiding place.
“Rojo?” he gasped, his eyes wide and curious.
“Red,” I nodded with a grin.
Jasper had me paint the fence right before I left for the SEALs, and no one had since from the way it looked. I hated spraying the fence white at the time, thinking it would stand out more if it were red. Now, it was mine, and even though Martin Jasper was probably cursing me from the heavens, the fence was gonna finally be red.
“Okay,” Pedro smiled, making a face as motioned for Kyle to back up the trailer to where we stood.
Pedro was a lot like old man Jasper, stubborn and set in his ways, a hard worker, a big heart, and hated change.
I loaded some red paint from the large container to a smaller one I could handle, and then I helped them load up the trailer, and sent them on their way. The fence would take about a week to complete both sides, even with two of them and industrial sprayers, but I couldn’t wait to see the change.
After backing my truck up to the garage and loading in the paint I needed and supplied, I drove to the end of the lane.