Long, Hot Texas Summer

by Brown, Carolyn

  “I missed you so much.” Travis’s drawl came through even more when he whispered. “But I don’t want you to make this decision and then regret it.”

  She rolled up on an elbow. “I made this decision before you ever came into the picture. I didn’t even want to go to college. I wanted to start living on the ranch right out of high school and every semester since I’ve wanted to drop out. But this time my mind is made up. If—and that’s a big word no matter how small it sounds—I decide I need to finish, I’ll go back later. I’m a rancher and I’m going to prove it this summer by showing Daddy how hard I can work. That means midnight is my curfew, because I’ve got to get up early in the morning for chores before church.”

  He chuckled. “You might think about online courses like I’ve been doing, princess.”

  “Honey, I’m not a princess. The cowboy boots setting beside this bed don’t turn into glass slippers at midnight. That means we have three hours to take advantage of this bunkhouse.” She rolled on top of him.

  Travis wrapped his arms around her. “You sure those boots don’t have magic in them? You sure look like one to me.”

  She laid a finger over his lips. “Darlin’, a princess is interested in a prince. I’m in love with a cowboy.”

  Chapter Two

  JACKSON’S DARK BROWN HAIR curled up on his shirt collar. Black lashes and heavy brows framed his blue eyes. A few crow’s-feet around his eyes were the only sign that he’d just passed his fortieth birthday and they were minimized in the dim restaurant lights. His jeans were creased and stacked up over his highly polished black boots just the right way. Waitresses stopped what they were doing and gazed at him over their shoulders as he passed.

  Their waitress led them to a corner table at the back of the restaurant and Jackson pulled out a chair for his date, Amelia. A fat white candle in the middle of the table put off a personal glow—enough for them to see each other, but limiting their field of vision to the edges of their table. The waitress took their steak orders and reappeared a few minutes later with two tall, frosted mugs of beer.

  “So tell me all about your week,” Jackson said.

  Amelia, a dark-haired schoolteacher with dark eyes and a bright smile, picked up her mug of beer. “Pretty routine. Spent the week doing inventory and today all of us teachers had a potluck lunch and then finally got checked out for the summer. I don’t have to look at my classroom again until fall.”

  “What about the summer? Got plans?” He liked Amelia, enjoyed her company. She was comfortable and she didn’t fuss when the conversation turned to Loretta, which it did pretty often. And she was very easy on the eyes, with her slightly tanned skin and curves in all the right places.

  She set the beer down and dabbed at her mouth with an oversized white napkin. “Have to do about a week of in-service hours to keep my certificate current, but I’m getting that done next week. Then at the end of June I’m joining my two best friends for a trip to the beach for a couple of weeks, maybe longer if we don’t start to get on each other’s nerves. Other than that, I’m going to sleep late, watch movies all night, and take care of my garden. It’s been a tough year with twenty-five fourth graders in my classroom. Biggest class I’ve ever had to teach. You wouldn’t believe the difference that five rowdy ten-year-old boys can make. And I’m ready to get my hands in the dirt, do some canning, and forget about the classroom.”

  Jackson smiled. “Summer is my busiest season and I love it.”

  Amelia reached across the table and covered his big hand with her small one. “Nona came home for the summer, right? Happy to have her back on the ranch?”

  Jackson pulled his hand away from hers and raked his fingers through his hair. “Loretta is going to shoot flames out her ears if Nona doesn’t go back to college, but the girl wants to learn the ranching business and I can see her point. Besides, I’ve walked a mile in her shoes. My mama wanted me to go to college, but all I wanted to do was ranch. She’s my only child, so she will inherit the whole shebang and if she doesn’t even know how to run it, it’ll all go to ruin.”

  Amelia took another long drink of her beer and smiled at him. “Nona could finish her education, make Loretta happy, and still learn ranchin’ in the summer and during vacation time from college. It’s only one more year, Jackson. She’s got three behind her already and it would be a shame to drop out now. And, darlin’, you aren’t too old to have another child. Then the ranch would be split two ways, or maybe you’d even have a son who would carry on at Lonesome Canyon like you’ve done.”

  “Children are definitely not something in my future,” he said.

  “What would you do if you did find out you were going to be a father again? In this day and age lots of people don’t even start a family until they are forty or older,” Amelia said.

  “I can’t imagine diapers, colic, and teething in my life right now. Hell, I don’t even want to think about that. I’ve got a daughter I adore who is willing to learn the business,” he said.

  The waitress set a bowl of salad in front of each of them and refilled their beer mugs. “Your steaks are on the grill. They’ll be out in a few minutes. Anything else?”

  Jackson shook his head. “Not right now.”

  For the first time the silence between them was uncomfortable. He felt as if there was a full-grown elephant in the restaurant with them. They could both see it and they could both smell it, but neither of them would acknowledge the critter.

  It stayed that way all through the dinner and the whole way back to the ranch. Country music played on the radio, but Jackson didn’t listen to the lyrics. He tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind.

  “You’ve been quiet,” Amelia said as they dropped down into the canyon south of Claude. “Is Nona at the house?”

  “No, she’s out on a date with her boyfriend. I like him, but Loretta thinks he’s out to get a toehold on the ranch. He’s a hardworkin’ cowboy and Flint, my foreman, is training him up to take his place in the next ten years. Travis will make a damn fine foreman. He’s got ranchin’ in his blood the same way Nona does.”

  “What if you are wrong and Loretta is right?” Amelia asked.

  “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

  “No, I’m only askin’ a question.”

  “I’m not wrong. Travis is a good man. I know the Calhouns—he comes from quality stock,” Jackson said.

  “I’m talking about Nona. What if this is nothing more than a fling and she throws her whole life away for it? What if in four years she leaves with your grandson or granddaughter in the backseat of an old car like Loretta did? That will break your heart all over again, Jackson. Maybe you should take a step back and rethink this whole thing of going to battle with Loretta,” Amelia said.

  “I’m not talking to Loretta about anything. She can stay in Oklahoma and I’ll damn sure stay in Texas. We haven’t even seen each other since Nona turned sixteen and started driving herself to the canyon for visits,” Jackson said through clenched teeth.

  “Okay. Mind if I come in for a drink? We really need to talk,” Amelia asked.

  “Sure, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Jackson said.

  “Not about Nona. We need to talk about us, Jackson,” Amelia said.

  He crawled out of the truck, rounded the tail end, and opened the door for her. Yes, they did need to talk, even if it wasn’t anything more than agreeing to disagree about Nona.

  Amelia led the way into the house. “One drink, one good-night kiss, and then I’m going home.”

  She stopped in the wide foyer, turned around, and rolled up on her toes for a hard kiss.

  The moment his lips touched hers, an enormous chandelier switched on right above them. Once Jackson’s eyes adjusted from semidarkness to full-blown light, he thought he was seeing things. Surely to God that wasn’t Loretta standing at the bottom of the stairca
se, wearing a flowing silk nightgown the same emerald green as her flashing eyes. Red hair flowed over her shoulders. She was even more gorgeous than she’d been the last time he’d seen her. His mouth felt as if he’d eaten a dirt sandwich and even when he blinked a dozen times, she was still there, so it wasn’t an illusion.

  “Good God, Jackson, our daughter is living in this house. You don’t bring your bimbos home with her in the house, do you?” Loretta’s voice got louder with each word.

  That was definitely not a hallucination. What in the hell was his ex-wife doing at the ranch, and dressed like that? Just looking at her put him in semiarousal. A vision of throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off to his bed flashed though his mind, but that wasn’t about to happen.

  He didn’t even remember Amelia was there until she cleared her throat. Dammit!

  How dare Loretta come to the ranch uninvited. Worse yet to stand there like the queen of Lonesome Canyon and tell him what he could and could not do in his own house. He took several long strides forward, right into Loretta’s personal space, stopping so close that his icy blue eyes locked with her blazing green ones.

  His heart raced. His pulse throbbed. There was a slight pressure behind his zipper. But he didn’t blink. “I don’t tell you who to bring home to your house in Oklahoma, so you don’t get to come down here and tell me anything. Amelia is not a bimbo, so watch your mouth. And what the hell are you doing here anyway?”

  She popped her hands on her hips, nipping in her small waist and accentuating a big bust and rounded hips. The pressure behind his zipper grew tighter. Jackson’s father said she was built like Marilyn Monroe and had the temperament of Maureen O’Hara. The man was a prophet for sure. Four years—hell, seventeen years—hadn’t done anything but enhance what had been there her whole life.

  She jabbed a finger into his chest and it felt like a hot poker had drilled right into his heart. “Oh, honey, I’m here for the next six weeks at least, maybe all summer. I intend to see to it my daughter goes back to school this fall and stops talking nonsense about runnin’ this godforsaken ranch.”

  “Lonesome Canyon is not godforsaken and I didn’t invite you here. Neither did Nona,” Jackson said.

  “I’ll be leaving now,” Amelia said.

  “No, you will not,” Jackson bellowed. “She’s not running you off.”

  Loretta’s eyes never left Jackson’s for a second. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, darlin’.”

  “I said you are not going anywhere,” Jackson said.

  “And I was fixin’ to tell you, before the lights came on, that I’m not dating you anymore, Jackson. I’m going home. The rest of this fight belongs to y’all and I don’t want any part of it, so have at it. Don’t leave blood on the carpet or Rosie will have both your hides,” Amelia said.

  “Well, shit!” Jackson looked from girlfriend to ex-wife.

  “You made a wise choice,” Loretta said to Amelia.

  Neither Jackson nor Loretta saw her wave or heard the door close.

  “Dammit! Loretta! You can’t stay here all summer,” Jackson said.

  “Why not?”

  “Why would you want to?”

  “I don’t want to. I have to. Nona is going home at the end of the summer. She is going to finish college if I have to chain her to my wrist and go to every class with her.”

  “Did I hear . . . Oh. My. God!” Nona said from the doorway. “What in the hell are you doing here? And who was that woman speeding out of here, Daddy?”

  Jackson looked from his daughter back to his ex-wife, who was still shooting daggers at him. “She says she’s here to make sure you don’t get too comfortable here at the ranch. That she’s going to make you go back to college come fall if she has to chain herself to you and go to classes with you.”

  “And he doesn’t have the sense God gave a pissant,” Loretta said.

  Nona frowned. “Okay, you two. Call a truce. Mama, you can stay, and, Daddy, you are going to let her. We are all adults here. Besides, she’ll be bored to tears in four days and itching to leave. She hates the canyon. I’ve made up my mind, Mama. I’m not going back to college. That’s settled, so you can go home and not waste your time here.”

  “It’s only one more year, Nona.”

  “I don’t care if it’s only one more week. And, Daddy, it’s a great idea that she’s here. She’ll see that I mean business and it’ll give you two some time to work through this thing that neither of you would ever talk about. Good night.”

  Loretta crossed her arms under her breasts. “It’s that damn cowboy. He’s got his eye on Lonesome Canyon. One more year and she’ll have her education, Jackson. Help me convince her.”

  “She’s too much like you to talk her into anything. Once you set your mind, Jesus, God, and angels with harps couldn’t change it,” he said.

  Nona pushed past her, stopping long enough to kiss her on the cheek. “Welcome home, Mama. Travis has his eye on me, not this ranch, and I happen to love him. And even if you two join forces, I’m not going back to school.”

  “You love him?” Jackson and Loretta said in unison, their heads jerking around to look at Nona instead of each other.

  “Well, at last you are in agreement about something. I’m going to bed. You two can tear down the place with your snappin’, bitchin’, and bitin’ if you want to. But you’d best have it rebuilt before Rosie wakes up in the morning.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs and the bright chandelier lit up a silver-dollar-sized hickey right there on her neck.

  “Did you see that?” Jackson’s eyes settled on Loretta’s gorgeous full lips.

  “I saw it. Did you hear what she said?” Loretta gasped.

  “I’ll tear that boy limb from limb.”

  “Over a hickey on her neck? It’s your fault, so you can’t be judging her or him,” Loretta said. “If you didn’t bring women in here with expectations of taking them up to your bedroom, then by damn, she wouldn’t have a hickey on her neck. How old is this Travis anyway?”

  He backed up a step. “Twenty-three.”

  She followed. “Where in the hell was your mind at twenty-three? Think about that before you go runnin’ off with your bimbo and leaving Nona to do whatever she damn well pleases!”

  “I was a father and we were married when I was twenty-three, if you will do the math, woman.” Jackson’s tone was pure ice.

  Loretta moved a few more inches into his personal space, but he didn’t back up an inch. “You were a father and we were divorced by the time we were that age. And don’t call me woman. You surely haven’t gotten so senile you’ve forgotten how much I hate it when you call me that.”

  “We still are divorced, so don’t be giving me any shit about dating other women.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Surely, they aren’t sleeping—”

  She shook her finger at him. “I don’t imagine she got that hickey from holding his hand, do you? And I’m pretty sure she lost her virginity right here on this damn ranch at sixteen like I did.”

  “I damn sure don’t like it,” Jackson said.

  “Well, you liked it back then,” Loretta chuckled.

  “I’m not talkin’ about that. You know what I mean.”

  Loretta spun around with all the grace of a green butterfly about to take flight. “Yes, I do, and I’m not leaving her here to make the same mistakes we did. She is not going to get married at her age, and that’s what’ll happen next. Good night, Jackson.”

  He took a step toward her. “Where are you sleeping?”

  “In our old bedroom. Rosie said that you don’t use it anymore. Don’t worry, I won’t get in the way of your social life.” She swept up the stairs in a fluff of emerald.

  Jackson poured a stiff drink of Jack Daniel’s and downed it like a cowboy in an old Western movie. He stared at
the empty staircase and poured another finger of whiskey, turned off the lights, and carried the whiskey with him up to his bedroom. He slumped into an oversized leather recliner and kicked back.

  It was going to be one long, hot summer. If they named tornadoes like they did hurricanes, this one would be named Tornado Loretta, and there wasn’t a shelter in the world that could protect anyone or anything from that storm.

  Chapter Three

  WELL, THAT DAMN SURE DID NOT GO WELL.” Loretta threw herself across the four-poster bed and shut her eyes. “Why is it every time I drive down into this canyon I get the urge to fight with, cuss at, and screw around with Jackson? I thought I was over him, but seeing him kissing that woman—I wanted to yank all that pretty long black hair out and render the bitch bald-headed.”

  She tried to sit up, but the sheer green robe was tangled under her body. Finally, she stood up, jerked it off, and tossed it toward the rocking chair over beside the window. She paced the floor, trying to get ahead of the anger. Years ago they would have argued until the sun came up and then fallen into bed and had makeup sex.

  “That’s the problem,” she sighed. “I’ve never fought with anyone like I have Jackson. Now it’s time for the red-hot sex. And that ain’t damn likely to happen.”

  She pulled the covers back and crawled into bed, beat her pillow into submission, and closed her eyes. Shut eyelids did not bring sleep, but rather produced a blank screen for memories to play across in living color. She thought she’d erased the ones that involved Jackson, but not so. Open eyes did not stop the memories from flooding through her mind.

  “It’s the room,” she said. “The ghost of times past in this room but I can’t ask for another one or he’ll know. Be damned if I give him that satisfaction.”

  She tried to roll to her other side, but the tail of her nightgown wrapped itself around her long legs, binding them up like a calf rope. Finally, she threw back the covers, got out of bed, and whipped the green satin gown over her head. It flew through the air like a real butterfly, landing on the chair in a wad of liquid silk. Cussing under her breath, she riffled through her suitcase in search of something else, but she’d only brought the green silk and a crimson one very similar to it. Her mother had given her the lingerie when she caught Loretta sleeping in worn-out T-shirts, but Loretta had never worn either until that night.