The Cowgirl Rides Away (Bluebonnet Texas Book 1)

by Stuart, Amie

  "I suppose that might make moving halfway across the country easier."

  "If it comes to that, yes."

  "You know, you're welcome to ride with us any morning, for as long as you're here," Jerrod said, that sad smile still lurking under the surface.

  "I'd really like that," I said.

  We parted ways at the corral, and once I'd unsaddled Sunshine and gotten her settled, I quietly walked back through Mrs. Boudreaux's yard, all the while thinking I could get used to this. The sound of a screen door turned my head and I watched as the dreaded Maggie Boudreaux stepped out onto the back porch. Her hands were wadded in a dishtowel and her eyes were red.

  Should I say something or not? I was almost past her line of sight but…I sighed, shoved my hands in my back pockets and turned. I'd been raised better. "Morning, ma'am. Everything okay?"

  "You're her?" She turned her red-rimmed eyes in my direction. "That girl staying with Susie?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I'm Jessalyn. Are you alright?" I asked again, stepping closer.

  "I don't see how that's any of your concern." With a sniff, she looked me up and down. I might as well have been facing off against my step-mother. The two women looked nothing alike but the attitude was there. Doing my best to tamp down the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I waited to politely make my escape, wishing I'd stayed silent, wishing I'd kept walking. "You're crazy, you know. You're both crazy, you and my son."

  Honestly, right then, she looked crazier than Zack and I combined. "No, ma'am. I don't think—"

  "That's the problem. No one thinks. Everyone just does whatever they want without giving a thought to the consequences or what people will say. How in the world am I supposed to introduce someone like you to my church friends?"

  My mouth opened, my reply instantaneous, but she disappeared back inside with a slam of the screen door. I'm a five-time World Saddle Bronc champ. Only female saddle bronc champ in PRA history. I'm kind of a big deal. Maybe you could tell your uppity church friends that? But it didn't matter, because like I said, she was gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zack

  Zack found Jessa unloading groceries shortly before noon. "Need a hand?" he called out with a smile. He'd stopped by earlier but her rental car was gone, and last night Aunt Susie had insisted Jessa ride home with her, killing his idea for them to spend the night together. He'd had to settle for a long, lingering kiss before they left the dancehall. Maybe her staying on the ranch hadn't been such a great idea.

  "Sure," she said, crossing to the front steps.

  He grabbed the last few bags and slammed the trunk, then followed her. "Heard you met Travis."

  "Yup." She slowly climbed the steps, then turned to face him, her chin down and gaze level. "He's beautiful but he looks nothing like you."

  That's when he realized something had changed. He couldn't quite put his finger on what, but he knew something was wrong. "I guess you discovered Aunt Susie's dirty little secret." He followed her inside and set the bags on the kitchen table, waiting for a clue or a hint or even an argument.

  "Yeah, she doesn't cook."

  Something was definitely wrong. He backtracked through their last twelve hours together, starting at the bar last night. Everything had gone fabulous. Sunday they were supposed to sit down with the rest of the band and pick out a few new songs to learn. She'd been excited. So what had changed?

  "His mother must have been beautiful." She gathered her hair in a topknot and began laying out all sorts of cooking paraphernalia. "Was she Cuban?" At the kitchen counter, Jessa was greasing and flouring pans, then dissolving something in water and scooping what looked like a ton of flour into the biggest mixing bowl he'd ever seen. He hadn't even realized that his aunt owned all this stuff.

  "Puerto Rican. What are you making?"

  "Bread." Jessa's movements were efficient, almost angry in their precision. She went back to mixing and measuring and eventually dumping everything into a stand mixer while Zack leaned against the counter, at a loss for what to say to her as the silence stretched between them.

  "He's not yours, is he?" She gave him that same level stare, her eyebrows drawn together in a slight frown.

  Caught off guard, Zack froze, then stepped closer, a part of him worried his aunt was awake and would hear, the rest of him worried that Travis's biology would matter to Jessa. He stepped closer, until he was at her side.

  "No," he said, his voice just loud enough she could hear him over the mixer. "How did you…" How the hell had she known? He hadn't told anyone.

  "He doesn't look like you. At all. Not even a little. That's the lie you told. Right? That was it?" She glanced at him, her blue eyes almost a stormy gray. Sweat had beaded on her upper lip from her exertions with the bread.

  "Yes." What else could he say? "It was."

  She nodded, then began shaping the dough into two lumps, placing each in a bowl and covering them with towels. Flour was everywhere—the front of her shirt, the counter, the canisters, the tips of her shoes and front of her jeans.

  "Why?"

  "A friend needed help; I helped her," he said simply. "I didn't think it would matter to you."

  "It doesn't. So what happened?" She neatly folded a dishtowel. "I told you the truth…" She was talking about her injuries and her family, but this was different.

  Her unfinished sentence hung between them while Zack silently struggled with what to say and how to explain. Finally, he said, "It was our senior year and, uh, Marina was late for church. She was never late. I found her in her room. She'd been raped."

  The hand wiping the counter slowed and she finally looked up at him. "And?"

  "And she was my friend, and I loved her so I said I'd raise him," he nearly choked just saying the words. He'd never told anyone, not even his Aunt Susie…and Jessa had guessed.

  Jessa frowned, then shrugged. "Why not just—"

  "She's Catholic."

  "That's not what I was going to ask." She went back to scrubbing the counters, her movements slow. "If she didn't want him, why not just give him up for adoption."

  "She didn't want strangers raising him."

  Her hand stilled and her fist clenched. "That's selfish," she snapped.

  Scowling, he opened his mouth, ready to defend the decisions he and Marina had made, when Jessa started to laugh.

  "Your mother hates you for raising a kid that's not even yours. What do you think she'd do if she knew the truth?"

  "I don't know and I don't want to find out. Look, we did what we thought was best and I love Travis. I'm his dad—" he thumped his chest, "—and my name is on his birth certificate."

  "And Travis gets to grow up with a grandmother who resents him and a mom who didn't want him. Nice."

  "No," Zack said, growing more exasperated by the minute. "That's not how it is."

  "Then you're going to tell him?"

  "No."

  "No?" Jessa's eyebrows rose, challengingly.

  "No."

  "Because you'd rather he grow up thinking his mother hated him—" she waved a flour-covered hand in his direction, "—and that he ruined your life?"

  "It's not like that," he insisted.

  "Yeah, it is," she said with a nod. "You think he won't know? Your mom will make sure of it."

  "What's going on, you two?" Susie asked from the kitchen doorway. He'd been so caught up in their discussion he hadn't even heard her approach.

  "We were just talking about Travis," Jessa said. "He seems like a pretty great kid. Kind of serious though. Like too serious, ya know?" She set the bowls next to the now-warm ovens and finally turned to face him, one flour-covered hand on her hip. "Me? I was a mean little kid."

  He crossed his arms over his chest, so his aunt wouldn't see them shaking, and waited to see where her story was going. Normally, he would have found the scent of yeasty bread dough comforting, but not now.

  "How mean were you?" Susie asked as if she had no idea they'd been fighting…when she probably did
.

  "When I was seven I hid my baby brother's blanket in a pile of cowshit."

  Her matter-of-fact tone made it impossible for Susie or Zack to hold back their laughter, especially in his case, after the few tense minutes they'd had. He finally pulled himself together and wiped his eyes. "How old was he?"

  "Three," she replied, her own shoulders shaking with laughter as she nudged him out of the way and rinsed out a sponge. "Told you I was mean. We still don't get along."

  "Well, I have no idea what the point of that story was but judging from the smells, I think I'm glad for that. Now, I'm going back to bed—" she gave each of them a brief hard stare, "—you two behave."

  "I'm making bread…and pork chops for dinner. Since you apparently do not cook or eat. I hope you don't mind, but baking bread relaxes me."

  Zack glanced from one woman to the other, then shrugged at his aunt's raised eyebrow.

  "Sounds lovely," she finally said before disappearing again.

  "What happened?" he asked again.

  She opened the dishwasher door, nudging him out of the way. "What do you think happened? Marlene whaled my ass."

  "I meant to you. Today."

  "Nothing. I just feel like cooking."

  Her tense face said otherwise, but Zack was afraid to push. "Dinner's at four. Bring Travis?"

  She was a liar and she obviously chose to not share whatever was eating her.

  "Are you sure you want me to bring Travis?" he countered, growing more confused and concerned by the second.

  "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

  "I just wondered. Something's obviously bothering you."

  "He's adorable, just like his daddy," she said with a soft smile that didn't reach her sad blue eyes or make him feel any better.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her against the length of him and kissed her cheek. She rested her head on his chest, but was stiff in his arms and obviously uncomfortable. He hated that didn't know how to soothe her or know how to get her to confide in him. "I had to ask. Not everyone's thrilled with having someone else's kid around."

  Stepping toward the sink, she said, "Well, I'm not everyone."

  "I know." He rested a hand on her back, glad when she stopped loading the dishwasher, but not so happy when she failed to look up at him. "Maybe you could stay the night at my house tonight."

  "You need to tell him."

  She meant Travis.

  "That'll never happen. I need to get home," he said. Before he hit something or yelled and said things he didn't want his aunt to hear.

  Outside, Zack took a deep breath and stepped off the porch. The stifling atmosphere had made him jittery and their argument had made him angry. Angrier than he'd been in a long time. No way could he tell Travis. No way he would. He and Marina had agreed. She wouldn't hate him. She didn't. She was his mother. Marina might not be a part of Travis's life but she loved him. They both did.

  And some things just didn't need telling.

  ***

  Dinner was a hit. Or as much of a hit as it could be given Jessa's mood. She chatted with all of them, her head up, her shoulders straight, a smile on her face as she bustled around getting food on the table. She even gushed just the right amount over the picture Travis had drawn for her.

  "My goodness," Susie said, "I don't think my kitchen has ever smelled so good."

  "Or been so well-used," Zack added with a teasing grin in her direction.

  "Thank you for letting me appropriate it." Jessa set a bowl of green beans on the table. "Zack, I made plenty of bread for you to take to your brothers."

  Sure enough, lined up on the counter next to the stove were four perfect loaves of bread.

  "As long as you saved one for us." Susie began pouring tea into everyone's glasses. "Travis, what do you think? Should we keep her?"

  Before he could answer, Jessa said, "If you let me stay, maybe we can go riding every morning."

  "Sounds okay I guess."

  "So we on for tomorrow then?" She stood next to his spot at the table, filling his plate and cutting his meat. "You, me and your granddad?"

  Travis nodded and smiled, now more interested in the plate full of food in front of him than riding with his dad's new lady friend. Zack gave Jessa an apologetic smile. She mouthed an 'it's fine' at him and finally took a seat across from him.

  "I think it's only fair that Travis and I do the dishes, since you cooked."

  "Deal."

  After dinner Zack and Travis cleaned up what few dishes Jessa hadn't already taken care of, while she changed. Once they'd dropped Travis off with his dad, Zack took advantage of the few minutes they had alone together on their drive to the dancehall. More than anything, he wanted to restore the harmony they'd had before their conversation about Travis.

  "Dinner was great."

  "Thanks."

  "You look great."

  She wore skintight jeans, red Tony Lamas and a fitted black pearl snap shirt. She looked better than great and it took everything he had to not pull his truck over to the side of the road and kiss her out of her bad mood.

  "About earlier," she began, "I won't say anything about Travis. I just wanted you to know that."

  "Thanks."

  "It's not my place."

  He let it go, unwilling to get into another fight with her about it.

  ***

  Their evening at the dancehall, as the previous few had, went off without a hitch. Despite her strange mood, Jessa still managed to work the crowd and only Zack knew that something was wrong. On their last break, he dragged her out of the crowded bar and into the beer garden, anxious for a few minutes of quiet.

  After two sets Jessa seemed calmer, if not a hundred percent herself as Zack led her to a secluded spot under a live oak tree. He pulled her into his arms, his body automatically responding to her warm curves.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, resting the palms of her hands against his chest..

  "Me, too."

  "I just—" before she could finish her thought, the sound of a nearby argument interrupted them.

  "Wrong, cowboy. It is my business."

  "Is that Ty and Rhea?" Jessa hissed, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

  He nodded and sighed. So much for quiet makeup time.

  "Stop it, Ree."

  "Fuck you!"

  At his side, Jessa stiffened, her fingers digging into his arm. "Zack?"

  Torn between his desire to help Ty and his need to comfort Jessa, Zack shushed her, tightening his arm around her and waiting.

  They were so close, he could hear Ty's heavy breathing. "No, fuck you! Listen, bitch, I've had it. Twelve years of your shit is enough! I'm starting counseling on Wednesday. You can go with me or you can move out. I don't care!"

  "You're what?" Rhea started to laugh. "And what's the town gonna think when they find out one of their favorite son's is 'in therapy'?"

  "I don't care."

  "Yeah you do," was followed by an ugly laugh.

  "Rhea, I love you, but…I've had it," Ty began, his voice calmer now but shaky, "I can't do this anymore."

  "You want a divorce? Really?"

  Zack wanted to cheer at his brother's words. Instead, he glanced down at Jessa. "It's okay," he whispered. She nodded but refused to look at him. And then on the other side of the hedge things turned drastically worse.

  "You know me better than that. I want us to work things out, and I want us to have a family." Even as the words spilled from his brother's mouth, Zack knew what Ty didn't:.

  Jessa pushed away before Zack could stop her, disappearing into the dim light, and while he debated whether to go after her or help Ty, the quarrel turned to children and grew more heated. His marriage was a lost cause and he had no business having children with someone like Rhea. It ended seconds later with the sound of a sharp slap followed by a scream from Rhea.

  Decision made for him, Zack quickly located the couple, nearly mowing down his aunt. In the dim light all he could make out was Ty r
ubbing his face and Jessa holding a handful of Rhea's hair in a painfully tight grip as her free hand connected with the other woman's face.

  "Jessa! Stop!" Jesus Christ! He stepped forward but his aunt grabbed his arm. He shrugged her off and kept going, intent on pulling them apart before Jessa got hurt. Rhea was taller and heavier and Jessa had a bad shoulder and a bad knee.

  Ty yelled as Jessa pushed Rhea against an old oak tree. Rhea immediately charged, and then Zack was yelling as Jessa's fist connected with Rhea's face yet again. Rhea lunged and Jessa swung again, connecting with her nose.

  "That's enough!" Ty stood between them now, scowling down at both women. "Get off her, Jessa!"

  Zack pulled Jessa aside and wrapped his arms around her, a move she didn't appreciate judging by the way she shrugged away from him.

  "He's right, that's enough." This from Aunt Susie, who now stood flanked by two of her bouncers. "Get Rhea out of here. Now."

  As they led her away, Jessa turned to Ty. "You okay?"

  He rounded on her, his face twisted with anger. "What the hell were you thinking?"

  "She hit you," Jessa said.

  "That's my business. Mine and my wife's, not yours!"

  Zack shook his head, trying to process it all, trying to figure out how much damage this was all going to cause if Momma found out, and odds were she would, then so would the rest of the town. Rhea might be a piece of work but Jessa was an outsider. "Go get cleaned up, Jessa."

  ***

  Zack woke up the following morning to the feel of Jessa's lush backside pressed against his erection. Eyes closed, he let himself caress the smooth skin of her bare hip while he replayed the last twelve or so hours in his head. They'd come home and made love, the hot desperate kind that people had when words failed them, showered and curled up together. Not one word said about the altercation with Rhea or Travis or whatever else was bothering her.

  He'd meant to wake her and drive her back to Aunt Susie's before his mom got up but fatigue had won out. And maybe he was being selfish. He picked up her hand, running his fingers over her busted knuckles, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. He was in so far over his head with her but he wasn't ready to let her go. He didn't want to but…if he was honest, he'd realized last night that she was almost too much for him. She hadn't needed his comfort, hadn't been upset, or afraid, she'd been angry, she'd been asking him if she should step in, and when he hadn't said anything, she'd taken matters into her own hands.