For the first year after Julia’s death, Jess hadn’t wanted to go on, but he had. One day, he’d awakened and the weight of his grief had lessened. It took another year before he felt like he could breathe normally again. It was the third year after Julia had passed away that he’d looked up at a branding over at the Rockin’ G Ranch and watched Doris laugh at something one of the ranch hands had said. That day, he saw her not as a nice neighbor he’d known most of his life, but a lovely woman he’d like to get to know as more than a friend.
It took another six months for him to get past the feeling he was cheating on not only Julia, but Glen. He’d loved his wife with his whole heart, but he finally realized she wouldn’t want him to be alone, to be lonely. And Glen wouldn’t want Doris to be that way either. Glen had been a great friend to him, and Jess would never have done anything to mar that friendship. But a part of him felt he had Glen’s approval for his interest in Doris.
He hadn’t gone courting since he was eighteen and had no idea how to go about it. Maybe he’d bungled things in his attempts to woo Doris. He’d tried talking her into accompanying him to events in Romance, but she refused. He’d offered to drive her to Portland for dinner or a show, but she was always busy. Last Thanksgiving, he’d even purchased one of Brooke’s blown glass vases and had the local florist fill it with a seasonal arrangement. Doris thanked him, but not with the enthusiasm he anticipated she’d exhibit.
Then in February, he’d asked her to go with him to a Valentine dance. Convinced she’d go, he’d pinned all his hopes on finally making headway in claiming Doris’s heart. She’d turned him down flatter than a tire full of nails and made it clear, in no uncertain terms, she had no interest in dating him. Not then and not ever.
Rebuffed and angry, he may have said a few things he shouldn’t have. She lambasted him until both his ears burned. He tossed the bouquet of roses he’d brought her on the ground and stormed off. The two of them had barely spoken more than a dozen words since then, even though they attended the same church, shopped at the same stores, and often saw each other in passing on the road.
And now his busybody daughter had arranged for Doris to keep an eye on him while he recuperated from his surgery. He should have listened to Janet in the first place and gone to Salt Lake City to have the knee-replacement done where he could have recuperated at her house.
But he’d never spent more than a week away from the ranch, and that was only when Julia insisted they take a vacation in the cold, dreary month of January. He couldn’t be gone for the six weeks his doctor told him his recovery would take. Although he was basically stuck in the house for a few weeks, he could still watch out the windows and pass orders down to his ranch hands. The foreman checked in each morning and evening, keeping him apprised of what was happening on the ranch.
“Dad?” Janet settled her hand over his and gave him an imploring look. “I thought you and Doris were friends. She was so good to us when Mom passed away. I remember going to the Rockin’ G all the time when I was a kid. When I was in school, babysitting Blayne was a lucrative source of employment. What happened between you two?”
Jess smiled and settled his other hand on top of Janet’s, patting it gently. Resigned to the inevitable, he released a sigh. “I don’t suppose anything I say will change your mind about leaving in the morning?”
“No, Dad. I really do need to get home. I miss my husband and kids, even if all they keep me around for is to feed them, organize their social engagements, and make sure they have clean underwear.”
Jess laughed. “Oh, I think they like you for more than those reasons.” His laughter faded and he squeezed her fingers. “I appreciate the time you’ve spent with me, Janet. Thank you for coming.”
“Of course, Dad. I’m just sorry I can’t stay longer. Next time you have a long recovery ahead of you, will you please think about coming to Salt Lake City? You know we’d love to have you stay with us.”
“Yes, I will.” He smiled at her. “How are you getting to the airport? Do I need to have one of the boys drive you?”
“No, Brooke Grundy is going to take me. She has a custom order to deliver to a hotel in downtown Portland and said she wouldn’t mind dropping me off at the airport.”
“Those interfering Grundy’s again,” he grumbled.
Janet pretended she didn’t hear him as she rose to her feet. She kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you rest while I put a roast on for dinner and write down a list of things Doris will need to know about your care?”
Jess winced at the mention of Doris’s name, but nodded his head and slowly returned to his recliner. After settling into it, he leaned back, closed his eyes, and wondered what he could do to chase Doris away when she came tomorrow.
Chapter Three
“Good morning, Mr. Milne,” Brooke Grundy said. Her cheerful tone matched her sunny smile and the light glinting off her blonde head as she stepped inside the house out of the nippy November air.
“How are you doing, Brooke?” Jess asked, unable to keep from smiling at the beautiful woman Blayne had married last year just a week before Christmas. At least that boy had the sense to know a good thing when he found it and not let it get away. In truth, Blayne and Brooke were so blissfully happy it did his old heart good to see the young couple deeply in love.
“I’m great, Mr. Milne. Are you feeling better?” she asked, giving him an inquisitive glance as she set a basket on the entry table.
Jess could smell cinnamon and wondered if it came from Doris’s applesauce muffins. Lest he show his interest in them, he focused on Brooke.
“I am feeling better every day, Brooke. And didn’t I ask you to call me Jess instead of this Mr. Milne business?”
“Yes, sir,” Brooke said, offering him a warm smile. “Grams said she’d be over at noon with your lunch and to check on you, but Blayne said to call him if you need anything before then.”
“I appreciate that,” Jess said, wondering if he’d choke on the bitterness clawing up his throat. Galled his daughter had left him at the mercy of Doris, there wasn’t a lot he could do about it since he really did need the help, at least for a little while longer. Maybe he could call the doctor’s office and see about hiring a home health nurse. That idea held much more appeal than putting up with Doris.
“I’m ready,” Janet said, breezing into the room, rolling a suitcase in front of her.
“I’ll take that out for you while you say goodbye,” Brooke said, reaching for the suitcase. “Take care of yourself and have a good day, Mr…” Brooke grinned at him. “I mean, Jess.”
“You be careful driving in that Portland traffic, Brooke. All of them are a bunch of idiots and crazies if you ask me.”
“Yes, sir.” Brooke smiled and took the suitcase outside, quietly shutting the front door behind her.
“Are you sure you have to leave, sweetheart?” Jess asked, wrapping Janet in a hug. “You could just stay here indefinitely and let those three unappreciative hooligans at home fend for themselves.”
“I’m telling Steve he’s been lumped in with the kids,” Janet said, leaning back with a laugh. “You’re going to do just fine, Dad. But I want you to promise you’ll at least attempt to be nice to Doris.”
Jess dropped his arms and shuffled back a step, grasping his walker when he nearly lost his balance. “I make no promises I can’t keep.”
“Dad…” Janet gave him a warning look. “I’ll be checking in with Brooke and Blayne, so I better not get any reports about your bad behavior.”
“Humph! More likely that wasp-tongued ol’ biddy is the one who’ll behave badly.”
“Dad!” Janet admonished as she tugged on her coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck against the chill outside. She gave him another hug and kissed his cheek. “Please be good and take care of yourself, Daddy.”
“I will, pumpkin. Now, you better get going. Brooke has better things to do than sit around waiting for you to start blubbering about leaving me.”
J
anet grinned, looking exactly like Julia as she cocked her head to one side and opened the door. “I promise no blubbering if you promise no yelling at Doris.”
“Deal,” he said, grabbing her hand and giving it one last squeeze. “Call me when you get home.”
“I will, Dad. Love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Jess stood in the open doorway and observed as she hurried down the walk and climbed in Brooke’s SUV. She fastened her seatbelt then gave him a final wave. Tears burned the backs of his eyes as he watched the two women drive away, wondering when Janet had gotten so like her mother. Her smile, her laughter, even the way she walked reminded him of his wife.
Heartsore, he closed the door and started back to his chair. He detoured long enough to pull a stack of photo albums from a cabinet beneath a tall shelf of books by the fireplace and piled them on the coffee table. Rather than try to carry them all back to his chair, he sank down on the couch and picked up the first album.
Images of his wife as a brand-new, fresh-faced bride made him long for the days of his youth when his body was strong and obeyed his commands.
Julia had often told him she thought he was the most handsome boy in school. She’d even admitted she’d nearly fainted the first time he’d asked her on a date. He’d never seen a girl as pretty as her, or with such a tender heart.
His fingers trailed over her image as he recalled how nervous he’d been when he picked her up that first Friday night in his dad’s 1959 Chevy Bel Air Coupe. Now that was a car to get the attention of girls. But the only girl Jess was interested in was sweet little Julia Phillips.
He’d taken her to the movies to see a comedy with Clark Gable and Doris Day. Somewhere between Julia drinking most of his Coca Cola and her laughing at the end of the movie, he’d fallen in love. That was March and they married in July. He remembered his folks and hers both telling them they were making a mistake, but they’d known the love they shared was the kind to last a lifetime.
Only Julia had left him alone long before he was ready to tell her goodbye. Honestly, he’d always figured he’d die first. If an accident on the ranch hadn’t taken him, he assumed a health issue would, especially after Glen Grundy dropped dead of a heart attack out of the blue.
Yet, his perfect, amazing wife had died after a horrible bout with pneumonia had damaged her lungs and sent her into respiratory failure. Jess had remained by her bedside at the hospital for three days, begging her to fight, to live, to get well. She’d been incoherent most of the time, but she’d awakened once and told him she’d love him forever before she slipped away.
Jess sat back and felt moisture on his weathered cheeks. He hadn’t even known tears had leaked out of his eyes. He fished a dark blue bandana out of his hip pocket, careful not to hurt his knee, and wiped his face then blew his nose.
He set the photo album on the coffee table and leaned his head against the back of the couch, closing his eyes.
“I wish it would have been me instead of you, Jules,” he whispered before sleep overtook him.
“What do you think this is, Fort Knox? Last I knew, you don’t have anything so precious in this house you have to keep every dang door locked.”
The loud, irritated voice accompanying the slamming of the back door jolted Jess out of his slumber.
Startled, he sat up so abruptly he bumped his knee against the coffee table. He sucked in a gulp of acute pain and swallowed down a few words Janet would take him to task for saying.
More banging from the kitchen drew his gaze toward the doorway. While he’d slept, the formidable Doris Grundy had arrived.
“What’s your problem?” he hollered and waited for the nausea that accompanied the pain to recede before he grabbed his walker and hauled himself to his feet.
He’d taken one step toward the kitchen when Doris appeared in the doorway, unwinding a dark red scarf from around her neck. She pulled a knit hat off her thick, wavy hair and fluffed it with her fingers before she unbuttoned her coat.
Jess did his best to ignore her rosy cheeks and the light sparkling in her gorgeous blue eyes. He’d always thought Doris had the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen. His Julia had soft brown eyes that always made him think of a graceful doe, but Doris’s peepers were bright, intense, full of life and energy.
Quite like the woman currently glaring at him.
“I had to drag the bench by the back door over to where you have the spare key hidden in the rafters of the porch. Why have you got all the doors locked? Afraid someone will come in here and put you out of your misery?” Doris asked. She marched back into the kitchen before he could answer.
Apparently, she wasn’t yet ready to put aside their differences and be on civil terms. Well, two could play that game. The promise he’d made to Janet to attempt to be nice to Doris crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. The woman was more snappish than a testy turtle.
“Why didn’t you just fly your broom up there and grab it?” he asked as he made his way into the kitchen. Although he kept his tone friendly, she spun around and snarled at him after tossing her outerwear on a chair at the table.
Jess barely suppressed a chuckle.
She took containers out of a basket and set them on the counter. “Are you hungry or not? I’ve got better things to do than mollycoddle a senile ol’ donkey like you.”
He moved his walker until he stood in front of her. Doris wasn’t short by any means, but he stood several inches over her. He leaned down until his face was less than a foot from hers. “Senile ol’ donkey, huh? You can do better than that.” He bent a little closer. “What have those kids been doing to you over there on your place? It looks like you’ve gotten a dozen new wrinkles that are as deep as furrows. Aging you by the day, are they?”
Doris took a step back, flames shooting from her eyes.
Jess hadn’t felt this good since before his surgery. He grinned and shuffled over to the table.
From years of spending time in each other’s homes, Doris knew where to find the dishes and utensils. She spooned a serving of beef stew into a bowl, set it on a plate, added two pieces of still-warm cornbread and plunked it down in front of him.
He watched as she poured a glass of milk for him, a drink he still favored over all others. She set it on the table then moved back.
“You better eat while it’s hot,” she said, pointing to his plate.
He looked up at her as she reached for her coat. Surely, she wasn’t going to toss food at him and leave. “Aren’t you going to eat with me?”
“Are you sure you can stomach sitting across the table from an ancient hag such as myself?”
Jess offered her his most charming smile. “As long as I don’t make direct eye contact, I’ll somehow survive.”
Doris muttered something he couldn’t hear, but she dished stew in a bowl, took a piece of cornbread, and sat down across from him.
Jess waited until she’d placed a napkin on her lap to offer thanks for the meal, including a word of gratitude for the hands that prepared it. He might like to ruffle her feathers, but he was thankful Doris had brought him a meal and came to check on him. Janet had left several meals in the freezer, but he preferred Doris’s plain home cooking to the fancy stuff his daughter liked to prepare.
“Did Blayne get that part he needed for the 4320?” Jess asked, aware Blayne had been trying to find a part for the old John Deere tractor. He dipped his spoon into the bowl of stew and took a bite. Doris might be a pain in his neck, but the woman sure could cook.
She gave him an odd look as she broke off a piece of cornbread and drizzled honey over it. “He did find the part. I keep telling him he ought to give up on that tractor, but he refuses. When Blayne was little, Glen used to take him along all the time in that tractor and I think it holds good memories for him of his grandpa. Otherwise, he’d probably sell that thing and stop fussing with it. At least we have other tractors that are dependable to use.”
Jess nodded, unwilling to share his
similar reasons for keeping his old swather. Every time he’d thought about selling it, he’d remember the days when Janet would bring her blanket and doll and spend afternoons with him while he cut hay.
“It’s a shame our kids had to grow up,” Doris said, taking a bite of stew.
“It is.” Jess filled his spoon, but glanced across the table at her. “If your grandson hadn’t grown up, you wouldn’t have a new granddaughter-in-law living in your house.”
Doris smiled and her face softened. “I just love that girl like she was my own. Brooke might not have known a thing about country life before marrying Blayne, but she’s picked it up quite well. She can cook, and she’s never afraid to jump in to help wherever she’s needed.”
“Did she finally get over her fear of horses?” Jess asked, aware that Blayne’s horses, particularly his team of Belgians, had scared Brooke half to death. “Seems to me a good ranch wife shouldn’t be terrified of a horse as gentle as Spot. Shame about that girl being so scared of them.”
Doris glowered at him. “She’s learning to ride, although Girl and Boy still unsettle her a bit. What about your son-in-law? How many affairs has he had? Is it true he has six kids with four other women and one of them lives with him and Janet?”
Jess choked on the milk he’d been drinking and thumped the glass on the table. He pounded his chest a few times and coughed into the napkin Doris handed to him. The smug expression on her face didn’t go unnoticed. He knew she was baiting him just like he’d tried to goad her with comments about Brooke.
“For your information, Steve has never done nor would he ever do anything of the sort. He teaches physical education and is the wrestling coach at the high school, a deacon at their church, and volunteers at the homeless shelter,” Jess said when he could speak again. “Even if he had the inclination for an affair, which is so ridiculous I can’t even imagine it, he’s too busy for that sort of thing. Besides, he would never break his marriage vows. He’s completely devoted to Janet and their kids and one of the most honorable men I know.”
Sleigh Bells Ring in Romance Page 2