by Anne Martin
“What’s this?” I’d asked, taking the watch, but looking at her. I’d seen the watch often enough. She’d carried it since the first time I’d seen her on the porch of the cabin at the summer camp where we’d met.
It was six years later, and she was naked in my bed. I had the ridiculous idea that she’d never be anywhere else.
“It’s my present for you, for your graduation.”
“You don’t have to give it to me, Jessie. All I want is you. You’re going to love the apartment.”
Her blue eyes had stared at me until they glistened with tears.
I smoothed her hair back and forced my focus on the watch. She was giving me something precious. It didn’t matter if she took it back when we were finished. While it lasted, it would be sweet and perfect. I couldn’t imagine it ending even as I allowed that the woman I didn’t know had motivations than I didn’t understand.
“It was your father’s. Why do you want me to have it, Jessie?”
“You can remember me.” She’d reached for me, kissing me and rolling on top of me until the world exploded into an infinity of bittersweet symphonies. I didn’t know her, but I knew I loved her, and she loved me.
Afterwards, I’d tried to hold onto her, but I had a party to get to, and she had to freshen up. She’d looked back at me through the half-closed door. The smile on her face had looked so delicate, so close to shattering. She wasn’t happy with being my mistress. She’d wanted to wait until marriage. I knew that, but she wanted to be in my bed almost as much as I wanted her there.
“I’ll be right back,” she’d said in that soft voice before she closed the door, leaving me with the cold watch and the sheets that would cool quickly, and refuse to hold her scent. It was almost like she was a ghost, vanishing without a trace.
I’d gone down to the party, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. When I called security, they said that she’d left an hour ago, that a cab had come to get her. That’s when I full-out panicked. My heart still pounded rapidly remembering.
“Hey, Jackson!”
I straightened up and tucked the watch back in the drawer. I opened the door as she was passing. She froze when she looked past me, recognizing the room. It was exactly the same as it had been on that day.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just wondered if you’d like to play a game of fish before bed.”
I nodded and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind me. “Sure. If that’s what you want. Did you have a good ride?”
She smiled brilliantly. “The trails aren’t half bad. They sent a real beauty. You should come riding with me in the morning before the madness of the day descends. Your horse is really sweet and he needs some exercise.”
“Is he the only one in need of exercise?”
She looked up at me, her cheeks blushing while her eyes went all big and Bambi-looking. “We’ll all exercise together. Do you stay in your old room?” She glanced back at it over her shoulder.
“No. I just use it for storage, college sweatshirts, that kind of thing. You could stay there if you’re tired of the servant’s quarters.”
She shook her head fiercely without meeting my eyes. “The servant’s quarters suit me perfectly.”
I took my time following her down the stairs. In Vegas at the poker table, she’d said that she’d lost her heart. If that was true, why didn’t she ever come find it? I’d been holding it for her, just waiting.
Chapter 11
The next morning, we went for a ride, but Jackson took the lead, taking me through neighborhoods until we reached a preserve. There was the sound of singing as we rode beneath the blooming plum trees.
The air was warm in spite of the early hour. It would get good and hot later. “Where are we going, Jackson?” I asked.
“We’re almost there.”
I smiled and let my horse pace herself behind Jackson. He had a good seat. By that, I definitely meant how he rode his steed and not how he filled out his jeans. Mostly. He was very nicely put together.
The singing grew louder until we reached the stream and the fifty or so people sitting on stumps in a variety of denim and cotton work shirts. Jackson was wearing plaid that matched me. It wasn’t intentional, but apparently he’d taken to the less expensive togs we’d picked up on our journey together.
After the song, a guy got up and started giving a lecture about forgiveness. I sighed and shifted in the saddle. After he sat down, I shot Jackson a look.
“What is this?”
“Cowboy church. It’s Sunday. It helps to have a day off. It’s good for your psychology and your soul. This is all about therapy, right?”
“Church therapy?” I pulled the reins and backed away from the clearing. Jackson caught up to me and grabbed my arm. The trail was wide enough it wasn’t a problem to ride side-by-side, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Jessie, I want you to forgive me. I’m truly sorry about the harm I caused you and I’d like you to know that.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t have anything to forgive you for. I’m the one who ran out on everybody.”
“I’m sure you had your reasons. I pushed you for intimacy before you were ready. I offered you money instead of marriage. I didn’t trust you with my whole heart. I was selfish. Even if you were chasing me for my wealth, how is that any different than why I pursued you? Sex, money, they’re all selfish pursuits that can turn destructive and soulless. I needed your body, your soul, your love, and you gave it to me because you cared more for me than I cared for you.”
I glanced over at him, those warm brown eyes looking so very sincere, the half-smile on his lips. I looked forward at the pricked ears of the brown horse instead. Brown the color of his eyes. I shook my head.
“Jackson, you know full well that I wanted you, I just wanted security in our relationship first. You never forced me in any kind of way. You wouldn’t do that.”
“But I didn’t respect the woman I claimed to love. How could you trust my love when I proved that I was incapable of it? You were right to leave. It would have been nice if you’d told me you were going, but you didn’t owe me anything, not after I offered you money instead of respectability.”
A lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t say anything. I just gave him a small smile and leaned forward, taking the lead in our ride back to the house.
Jackson insisted that we do non-wedding things, like play horseshoes, and sit on the porch with lemonade. Deb came over for dinner, but Jackson made it clear that we couldn’t talk wedding stuff. I cooked and exchanged glances with my strawberry-blond friend while Jackson played solitaire.
“Who’s going to be your best man?” Deb asked Jackson.
“No wedding talk,” he said with a strict frown.
“That’s not wedding talk, not planning anyway. Don’t you have a best friend?”
Jackson looked at me, and there was something in his eyes that made my breath catch. “I did have a best friend, but we lost track of one another. I’ll probably have to ask my cousin.”
“And you can be mine,” I said, smiling at Deb.
Her hazel eyes got boggled and grotesque. “You can’t be serious, Jessie! I’m going to be coordinating everything. I can’t look good too. I’m not that talented. No, call up one of your friends from Vegas.”
“What about Felicia?” Jackson asked.
I stared at him while a ball of terror came alive in my stomach. “Who?”
“She said she was a friend of yours when she called the other night.”
“Felicia called you? How did she get your number? Never mind. So, she knows about the wedding? That’s fabulous.” I glared at him.
He raised his hands. “She found out from someone else. It’s not like we aren’t both somewhat public figures in our respective fields. We announced our engagement.”
I ran my hands through my hair. It felt like straw. I needed to chop it all off and go back to blond. After the wedding. I just had to wrap up my old life. I should
do that with my old friends. “Fine. I guess I’ll have to invite some of them.”
“I already did,” Deb said brightly.
I stared at her. “You did?” I looked from her to Jackson and back again before I started chopping the peppers a little more vehemently. I was trying something new, a little more fancy, a lot more ingredients, which was good because then I could focus on what I was doing instead of smacking Deb for working with Jackson against me. This wedding wasn’t real. Jackson didn’t need to be humiliated in front of all of my friends. That wasn’t therapy, it was something else. Something terrible.
After Deb left, I was cleaning up dishes when Jackson came up behind me and leaned around me to take the washcloth out of my hands.
I inhaled and the scent of him, spicy and musky filled my senses. “What are you doing?”
“You cooked. If you need to do something, you can dry and put away.”
“Do you know how to wash dishes? Don’t you have maids for that kind of thing?”
“I do know. One can only mess up as terribly as I did that one weekend without improving somewhat.” He nudged my shoulder with his chin, but his arms were around me, his hands in the warm soapy water with mine.
We washed the dishes together, one after another, my back brushing his chest until the last dish was on the towel. He stepped away from me, grabbing his whittling off the counter before he headed into the den. I took a few minutes drying and washing down the sink, needing the chance to breathe.
When I went into the den, I took my crochet. I sat on a chair opposite the couch instead of curling up next to him.
“What are you making?” he asked with an easy smile.
“It’s a doll for Trixie’s baby. Poor Trix. Lucy’s going to be a princess and she’s a race car driver, tomboy all the way.”
“Trix Dragon O’Hara, from your team?”
I nodded and bit my bottom lip as I carefully caught the pink yarn in the hook. “You’ve done your research.”
“Not really research. How could I miss all the posters with your gang around Vegas?”
“Did you recognize me before the poker game?”
He nodded, frowning at his sculpture. “That’s right. I’ve known where you were for years.”
I stopped breathing. “You knew where I was? Why didn’t you say anything?”
He looked up at me, surprised. “Should I have? I thought you ran away from me. It wouldn’t be very nice to interrupt your peace.”
I scowled at the yarn and shook my head. “I was such an idiot. I thought you’d try to keep me from leaving.”
“You thought I’d lock you up?”
“I thought that you’d kiss me and tell me that you needed me.”
He grinned. “That’s the same as keeping you from leaving? You are too easily oppressed.”
“Only by you. I can say no. Believe me, I can say no, just not to you.”
“That must have terrified you.”
“Well, I had to protect my heart. You weren’t going to protect it, were you?”
He studied me with his head cocked for a long time. “I would have liked to, but I was young. I shouldn’t have gambled what I couldn’t afford to lose.”
“What did you lose?”
“My best friend. You weren’t just the best lover I’d ever had.”
I frowned down at the pink yarn, loops and loops that were getting blurry. Something was in my eyes. I blinked rapidly as I got up and tucked all my stuff in my bag. “It’s late. We’re going to have to hit it hard tomorrow and every day until the wedding.”
“Sundays off,” he said, grabbing my hand as I passed so I had to look at him, had to feel his strong but gentle fingers.
“Okay. Sundays off,” I said stupidly before he smiled and let me go. I somehow didn’t run all the way to my room.
I called up Trix. She answered after five rings, which was soon for her.
“What’s going on? Felicia keeps forwarding me big Dallas news of you and some anemic pencil pusher.”
“He’s a bookie not a bookkeeper.”
She laughed, a low growl that sounded like trouble. “What are you doing with a bookie? Do you need intervention?”
“Me? I’m not addicted to gambling.”
“Hmph. Of course you are. No one acts like you act unless they’re recovering addicts. All your rules? I’d say you’re a sex and gambling addict. Also alcohol. What happened? You get drunk and go on a spree and end up owing this guy money?”
“No. We’re just… We’re old friends. I saw him again in Vegas and lost my head. It’s a mistake. I shouldn’t marry him. It’s not me, it’s who I used to be, and that’s not who I am. Unless it is. And he’s got these soft brown eyes, and he asks me anything, and I say yes. I can’t help myself. He’s what I’m addicted to, and now we’re having a wedding with puppies and kittens, and you need to be my best man.”
She snorted. “Matron of honor. I accept. If you can’t say no, may as well say yes. Get him out of your system. Once he starts going to strip clubs and gambles away your life savings, you’ll have closure.”
“Seriously? How is that a good idea?”
“Marriage is always a good idea, particularly if you want to sleep with him. It doesn’t have to last. Most marriage doesn’t, but sometimes it surprises you.”
I heard crying in the background, shrill and high.
“Hold on. Do you hear that? She screams like a girl. If I don’t pick her up in five seconds, Horse will come and then I can’t get him to go back to work. What kind of a father will your man be?”
“He’ll be perfect.”
“You answered that fast.”
I shook my head and walked to the window, opening the curtains to look out on the stretch of lawn. Jackson was walking along, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the moon.
“He’s good with family.”
“Felicia says he’s a good man, her words, ‘ethically responsible.’ Sounds boring to me, but if he’s good in bed and you can’t say no to him, I can support you in your idiocy. I don’t want to stay at the hotel. Do you mind if we crash at your house? She puts everything in her mouth, but I don’t believe in childproofing, so don’t worry about it. Other than obvious things, set bear traps, that kind of thing.” Another shrill shriek made me flinch.
“Jezabel, I’ve got to go. She can tell I’m not giving her the full focus of my attention. And Horse wants to have more. He says she’ll be spoiled otherwise, like it’s not his fault…” Another scream and then nothing as Trix hung up.
I sighed and leaned my head on the glass as I watched Jackson. Why hadn’t I told her that I wasn’t really marrying him? She would come all this way for nothing. Oh well. It would be a nice reunion.
The rest of the week past in a blur of fittings, place settings and registering for gifts. By Thursday, I was laying on the couch in the den in the dark with an ice pack on my head.
By Sunday, I was grateful for the day off. We rode to the cowboy church and we got off our horses that time. Jackson put some change into the boot resting at the foot of a tree. I leaned it tree while he sat in the dirt until he pulled me onto his lap. I didn’t push away; instead I relaxed against him and pretended to listen to the sermon.
I closed my eyes and let the murmuring of the brook and the whisper of the breeze fill my heart with peace.
“Are you ready to go,” Jackson said, his nose brushing my ear sending a shaft of lightning through me.
I bolted off his lap. “Right. Let’s go. Sparkle! Are you ready to go, honey?” I stroked the brown horse and leaned my forehead on her starburst while I got my own breathing under control. She nickered and I tried to retrieve the feeling of peace. After we got back to the house, I hid in my room, cooking on the small kitchenette so I wouldn’t have to see Jackson.
That didn’t work, because he came to find me. “You like this small kitchen better?” he asked, leaning against the doorway as I scraped charred beans into the garbage.
&
nbsp; “I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, this is your house, and I’m just trying to keep a low profile.”
“Really? It looks like you’re hiding from where I’m standing.”
I stared at him. I was barefoot in a tank top and short shorts holding a pan. “I’m not hiding. This is my room.”
He crossed his arms. “Are you getting cold feet?”
“What? Of course not. It’s not a real wedding. How could I be scared of getting not married?”
He narrowed his eyes at me before he nodded. “Okay then. I’m ordering Chinese. What do you want?”
“Oh. Whatever you’re having.”
“I’ll make that whatever I’m not having, because there’s nothing worse than running out of sweet and sour chicken. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room.
“Where are we going? I’m not dressed for company.”
“You’re good. Your grandma is coming over for dinner.”
I dug my heels in. “What? I must have known. I should have been hiding. Wasn’t once enough?”
He smiled at me. “I should have waited until you saw her although dragging you like a reluctant steer has its charm. Come on, Jessie, darlin’. Be a good girl and tell the old woman howdy.”
His arms came around me and he lifted me, actually carrying me into the den while I struggled against him. He put me down right outside the door and nodded in.
“Behave, or I’ll have her come after you.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed through the door, a smile plastered on my face. She was sitting on the dark couch, boots stretched on the table like Jackson sat. My heart lurched when I saw her there, my grandma in his house like she belonged here.
“Dinner should be here any minute,” Jackson said, sitting on the table and smiling at her. “Was traffic all right?”
My grandma nodded. “The bike can handle traffic. Do you have any motorcycles?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I have a few that belonged to my grandfather, but they’re nothing worth writing home about, just an old chopper and a Royal Enfield. How about a game of cards? I’m a notorious card sharp. Go Fish is my game.”