by Amy Lillard
Because despite last night’s adventure and the party for Seth’s five-year-old niece, there were the tragic circumstances surrounding Wesley’s birth. Jake’s wife, Cecelia, had died bringing her into the world. Everyone tried to make a celebration out of the day, but sometimes the sadness still managed to creep in.
Jake grieved for his wife. He never dated, rarely smiled. It broke Jessie’s heart to see him like that. Jake had always been like a brother to her, steadfast, caring, and kind, just one more Langston she would miss when it came time for her to go.
She heard Seth pull up, and she grabbed her camera and her hat, dashing out of the porch bedroom she made for herself in the summertime and through the kitchen to the front room.
“That’s Seth,” she told her grandmother, poking her head into the parlor to check on her. “It’s almost three. Don’t forget to take your pills at four thirty.”
Naomi harrumphed—though to Jessie it sounded suspiciously like a suppressed cough—and never wavered her eyes from the game show rerun.
“Try and use that new inhaler the doctor gave you. Maybe it’ll help.”
Naomi cleared her throat again.
“You have the number out at the ranch if you need anything, right?”
That did it. Or maybe it was the fact that a commercial had taken the screen from Bob Barker, so her grandmother could turn her accusing eyes on her. “What do you expect me to do, drop over dead while you’re gone?”
“Of course not.” But the words made Jessie’s heart miss a beat. It was her greatest fear, that she couldn’t be with her grandmother all the time and something would happen while she was out. She pushed that thought away. Meemaw still had a lot of life left in her.
“Don’t lie to me. I’ve heard the doctors talking behind my back—”
“Meemaw,” she sighed. “No one has been talking about you. The doctors have been very up front about everything.”
“—and I know I’m not long for this world.”
Jessie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew what was coming. Had heard it too many times to count. It both unnerved and annoyed her that her grandmother could talk about her death like an event at the county fair.
“When I die,” she continued, “make sure that you get that picture. The one of me and your mother at the river. You know the one.”
She did. A framed black-and-white snapshot that hung just to the left of the door leading to the kitchen. Her mother had been about seven years old, with knobby knees and stringy blond hair. Donna had been holding her mother’s hand. Naomi looked young and happy. A different lady, a different time. It was that picture that had inspired Jessie to want to take photographs of her own, capture things so easily lost.
“I don’t have much,” Naomi continued, “but that picture’s special.”
“I know, Meemaw.” Jessie inched toward the door.
“I want you to keep it.”
“Yes, Meemaw.”
“Pass it down to your children.”
“I will, Meemaw.”
Naomi opened her mouth to say something more, but Jessie interrupted. As rude as it was to cut off her grandmother, Seth was waiting and once Naomi got on the subject of the picture and happier times, it might be days before she came up for a breath.
“Just take your medicine at four thirty, ’kay?”
Naomi harrumphed again and muttered something that sounded like “these young people today” as Jessie turned and made her way out the front door.
* * *
Seth was halfway to the house when Jessie came tripping down the porch, her camera swinging around her neck and a brightly wrapped package tucked under her arm. Without a word, he opened the door for her, then made his way around to the driver’s side of his old red-and-white Ford.
How many times had he done this very same thing: swing by and pick up Jessie before heading out to the ranch for a Langston family function? Christmas, Easter, Jake’s birthday, his mother’s birthday, Grandma Esther’s birthday. After all those times, all those birthdays, all those family events, why did today feel different? Why did today feel like a date?
There was only one way to get through a situation like this: keep his eyes on the road, his hands on the wheel, and an iron clamp on . . . well, an iron clamp on everything else.
Piece of cake.
Yeah, right.
Why now? he asked himself again. Why, after three years, was he having such a tough time ignoring the feelings he had for Jessie? Why was he having such a tough time ignoring her? Why was he so aware of every breath she pulled in, every time she exhaled? Why was he so aware of the way the air from the vents blew the wisps of her hair—those fuzzy little pieces that had escaped her braid—around her face? Her scent assaulted him and enticed him at the same time. He’d barely spared her a glance and yet every detail was burned into his brain. The exact color of her buttercup yellow button-up dress printed with tiny blue flowers and the exact way it rippled and floated around her slim frame. The worn red cowboy boots that Jake had found her over in Austin and the seen-better-days straw hat that she’d had as long as Seth could remember. The fact that the only jewelry she wore were little, dangly butterfly earrings his mother had given her when she graduated high school and the slim silver bracelet engraved with the word dream—also a gift from the Langston family—that she wore on her left arm in place of a watch.
Why now? He only had one answer to that question: because he was starting to want more. A real house—not just Nita Calvert’s renovated garage apartment. A family of his own. A wife to come home to every night. To share a meal, share their days. A son to carry on his name. More.
He let his gaze wander to the side, just enough that he could make out Jessie’s tense profile. The one big problem with wanting more was that he couldn’t have the one woman he truly wanted.
It sure didn’t help that his mother kept pushing Millie Evans in his face every chance she got. He hadn’t had a conversation with his mother in the last two weeks without Millie’s name coming up—ever since she had returned to Page County. And then there was Darly Jo . . . well, she was something else entirely. Though he had to admit she would be the most logical choice for him. She was obviously willing to enter into a relationship with him. And she knew firsthand the responsibilities of a small-town sheriff. She knew about the long hours, the spur-of-the-moment, middle-of-the-night calls. But with all things considered, he couldn’t say she was what he wanted in a mate. What he wanted was sitting next to him, but belonged to someone else. And Thursday night’s events just drove home what he had been denying for far too long. It was time for him to settle down and get married. Stop playing the field and—
“I don’t know why you insisted that I come today.”
Seth kept his gaze glued to the dusty ranch road in front of him. They had been driving for almost half an hour, not counting the side trip to the Safeway, and she hadn’t said more than “Hi” and “Thanks for the ride” to him. They were almost to the Diamond and now she wanted to talk?
“You’re part of the family.”
“Not really.” She shrugged. Not that he was actually looking at her. Not directly anyway. Just out of the corner of his eye.
“Okay. What’d you get for Christmas last year from my mother?”
“A bread machine and some underwear.”
“Me too,” he said, trying not to think about the whole underwear thing. “Doesn’t get much more family than that. Plus, you take the best pictures.”
“So you want me or my camera skills?”
Now, what was he supposed to say to that? “And your punch. Don’t forget your punch.”
She tried for a smile at his poor attempt at humor, but it looked more like a grimace than anything else.
“Jessie, you’re an honorary Langston.”
“And that’s all I’ll ever be.”<
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He couldn’t help himself; he turned his head and looked directly at her. “What do you mean by that?”
“Chase was real mad the other night.”
“Chase doesn’t stay mad for long. He did drop the charges the next morning.”
Her short little braid did a small pendulum swing as she shook her head. “Chase isn’t going to get over this one. No one’s going to let him.”
“That’s not true and you know it.” He peeled his gaze away from her and trained it back onto the road ahead.
He said the words, and she shrugged again, neither in agreement nor in denial. But he knew she believed what she had said. And he supposed there was a small part of it that was the truth. Small towns were cruel and unforgiving. Collectively they forgot nothing. If an individual happened to let something slip his mind, you could bet that someone in the town would be there to remind him. Unfortunately Jessie had been fodder for the gossips since the day she was born.
Of course everything would be different for her once Chase decided to settle down. Lucky Langston was the golden boy of Page County. Hell, he’d put Cattle Creek on the map. Once Jessie hooked up—officially—with Chase, then all her worries would be over.
“You could always tell him the truth.”
She made another one of those noises in response, somewhere between protest and acceptance.
They drove in silence for a few minutes; then she cocked her head to the side and asked, “Did you really get a bread machine for Christmas too?”
“Actually mine was a toaster oven.”
She nodded thoughtfully as he pulled his truck to a stop in front of the big house.
Jessie had her door open before he even cut the engine. She grabbed the brightly colored present and the brown paper grocery bag that she’d brought along, then tossed a small white envelope in his direction. The fat little bundle hit his lap with a small thwack.
“Now we’re even,” she said, slamming the door shut, leaving Seth to stare at the stack of twenties nearly an inch thick.
“Jessie—” He broke off as she shook her head.
“Don’t say anything, Seth. Just let me do this. I need to do this.” Without sparing him the smallest glance, she turned on the heel of her boot and hurried toward the house.
Chapter Four
Seth caught up with her, just as she reached the steps leading to the door to the ranch house.
“Wait up,” he said, snagging her arm before she could escape the many, many questions he had. Like where she’d gotten that kind of money.
“Just leave it, Seth,” she said without turning around, without looking at him at all. Damn. That pride had kicked in again. Her freckled shoulders were stiff, her back ramrod straight as if she had just been led in front of the firing squad.
“Jessie. You know I can’t take this money.”
“That was the agreement.”
“You and I both know that Chase will forget about this in a day or two—”
“Well, I won’t.”
“Where’d you get this money, Jess?” he asked quietly.
She lifted one shoulder. Like that was any kind of an answer.
“Jessie.”
“I’ve been saving a little here and there.”
“A little? There’s over four thousand dollars in this envelope,” he said, smacking it against his thigh. It cracked like a whip.
She shook her head, refusing to answer.
“Jessie,” he started, his quiet voice sounding overloud in the cool shade of the porch. “Why are you letting everybody think that you did it?”
She shrugged again. “Everyone expected me to do it.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she plowed on ahead.
“Let it go, Seth. It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Because soon, I’m gonna have all the money I need to leave this town behind forever.”
Only his years of police training allowed Seth to hide his surprise. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined a Cattle Creek without Jessie. To him she was as much a part of the town as the longhorn mascot of the high school football team that was painted on the water tower. Always there, true blue.
“You’re leaving?”
“Did you think I was going to wait around forever?” She shrugged again. “I love him, but I’m not stupid.”
He had no chance to reply, no chance to give voice to his hope.
The front door opened. Wesley stood in the threshold looking from him to Jessie and back to him again. Then in typical Wesley fashion, she turned without a word and ran back into the house yelling, “Da-ad! Nana! Aunt Jessie and Uncle Seth are here.”
Jessie shot Seth one more look, then hustled up the steps and into the house.
Seth took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the beast that had risen inside him again. Aunt Jessie and Uncle Seth. Like they were a couple, as if they belonged together.
The creature under control once again, he started after Jessie and Wesley.
The heels of his boots scraped against the slate stone of the cool, broad portico as Seth crossed to the door of the big house. It wasn’t the first ranch house. The original white clapboard with wraparound porch and squeaky screen door was a quarter of a mile or so down the dusty ranch road. And though it had been good enough for her parents, it was not worthy of JT Langston’s bride, so he’d built her a new house with her own dowry. The Duvalls continued to live in the cozy three-bedroom, and the Langstons resided in the expansive ranch house reinforced with Oklahoma sandstone.
To Seth, it was home. He loved spacious rooms and tall, cedar-beamed ceilings. It smelled like vanilla and leather and family. There had been so many good times here, both before and after his father died. There had been lots of sad times too. Maybe that was why walking through those big oak doors was like being embraced by every good and honest thing he had ever known. He’d missed it during all his time in San Diego and had rediscovered it when he returned to Texas.
“Seth, is that you?” his mother called to him from the back of the sprawling house.
“It’s me, Mama.” He took off his hat and started through the spacious living room with its oversize leather furniture, cowhide throw pillows, and brightly pattered Navaho blankets.
“Did you remember the ice cream?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He followed the sound of her voice and the delicious smell of sweet birthday cake to the warm, homey kitchen.
For the most part, the kitchen was open and airy with an earthy terra-cotta tile floor and all the modern conveniences that money could buy. A ristra of dark, wrinkled peppers hung in the corner between the two uncovered windows. One looked out over the ranch yard and the well-worn path to the horse barn. The other had a view of the side yard and the sparkling blue swimming pool Jake had installed as a fiftieth birthday present for their mother.
“I’m glad you’re here. Millie’s been asking about you.”
I’m sure she has. He set his hat on the table, stowed the melting ice cream in the freezer, then kissed his mother on her proffered cheek. The combined smells of White Shoulders and prized horseflesh greeted Seth like an old friend.
Five foot four, petite, and blond, Evelyn Duvall Langston looked like a delicately aging rodeo queen instead of a devoted mother and grandmother. Dressed in a red silk blouse and dark-wash jeans, a snake-hide belt with a glittery buckle encircling her trim hips, she could have posed for Country Living magazine. But from the tips of her Nacoma boots to the top of her perfectly coiffed hair, she was a horsewoman at heart. There was a power in her that was almost tangible and spoke of more than just her triumph over breast cancer. She was tender and strong, the matriarch of the Diamond and the reigning queen of Page County. She had been before she married JT Langston and she remained so all these years after his death. Neighbors and friends wanted her to run for mayor of Cattle Creek, but
Jake joked that the decrease in power would kill her.
“Did Jessie come through here?” Seth asked.
“She put her bag on the table and then went out back with Wesley. Tore through here like the devil was on her tail.”
Chicken, Seth thought. Dump forty-three hundred dollars in his lap—literally—and then head out the back way.
“I suppose these are supplies to make her infamous punch?” Evelyn asked, fingering the edge of the brown paper grocery sack that Jessie had abandoned. “Do you think I should look and see what the secret ingredient is?”
“Not if you value your life.”
“That girl is such a mess.” Evelyn smiled affectionately, taking some of the sting from her words. “I guess she gets that from her daddy. Her mama was a wild one, but she wasn’t so . . . so . . .”
Prideful? Hardheaded? Beautiful? Sexy?
“Feisty?” he finished.
“Mmm-hmm,” his mother murmured as she casually turned her attention back to the final touches of Wesley’s birthday cake. “There’s a rumor going around that you arrested her night before last.” The words held no more weight than the evening weather report. But Seth knew . . .
He made a great show out of unloading the bag that contained Wesley’s birthday present, hoping he appeared too busy to answer.
“Did you really do that?”
He took a deep breath and braced his hands on his hips. “She confessed, Mama.” There was no need going into the whole obstruction of justice thing. His mother would definitely not understand that.
She shook her head. “Well, that’s no reason to go and put her in jail.”
“I’m sure there are several people that would disagree with you. Chase, for one.”
“That boy.”
Seth didn’t correct her. At twenty-five years old, Chase would be considered by most to be a man. “Was he still mad when he left?”