by Ali Parker
I did as she said and hurried down the hall to our bathroom, which was tiny in comparison to the luxurious bathroom I’d had while staying at Easton’s place. But even though the shower was a quarter of the size and had a curtain that let in a cool draft, it was still home, and there was no better shower than the one at home.
I massaged my scalp and saturated my hair with conditioner. I shaved my legs, my armpits, and my lady bits, and once I got out of the shower, I moisturized from head to toe and reveled in the feeling of my smooth, clean skin. I left my hair to air dry and slipped into Janie’s bedroom to change into a pair of leggings and a loose sweater that read “Brunette” across the chest.
Then I opened the door and made my way into the kitchen, where the voices of my family bounced off the walls as they came through the front door and said hello to Janie.
I stopped at the threshold to the kitchen and locked eyes with my brother first.
“Pipes!” Phillip cried, rushing forward and gathering me up in a big hug, He lifted my feet clear off the floor and turned in a circle before setting me down. “It’s so good to see you! How are you? You look great.”
“Thanks, Phillip. I’m good. Tired, but good.” I patted his cheek. “You look good too.”
He grinned and stepped aside as my mother came in for her hug. She looked more tired than usual, with wrinkles around her eyes that I was sure had been there before. I just hadn’t noticed. Her hug was tight and firm as ever, and when she pulled away, she cupped my cheeks in her hands. “My beautiful girl. We’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too, Mom.”
My father said hello last. His hug was like that of a beast, and he squeezed the air out of my lungs like he always did before releasing me and messing up my hair with his fingers. “Our traveling student. It’s good to see you, Piper.” He clapped his hands together and turned to Janie. “Thank you for making this happen, Janie.”
Janie was stirring the curry on the stove. She flashed my dad a big, white grin. “Of course, Mr. James. It’s my pleasure. Can I interest anyone in a drink? I have red or white wine. Soda. Rum. Vodka. Whatever you like.”
We went about the tedious process of fixing everyone’s drinks. A glass of merlot for my mother. A rum and coke for Phillip. And a glass of water with a lemon wedge for my father.
Janie and I poured ourselves a glass of red too before it was time to call everyone to dinner. We loaded our bowls full of coconut rice and drowned it in rich yellow curry filled with chicken, peppers, bamboo shoots, carrots, pineapple, and onions. The smell was intoxicating as the steam wafted into my face while I walked with my bowl to the table.
I sat down and waited until everyone took their seats, and then my father raised his water in a toast. “Here’s to all of us being together. Even if it’s just for an evening.”
“Cheers to that,” Phillip said.
We all raised our glasses, tapped them lightly together, took a sip, and then gorged ourselves on curry, rice, and the accompanying baguette and butter.
“You’re a marvelous cook, Janie,” my mother said appreciatively. “This is delicious.”
“Thank you,” Janie said, her cheeks turning a bit pink. “This is my great grandmother’s recipe. She was known for her cooking and baking.”
“I can see why,” my mother said.
My father sat back in his chair and rubbed his belly halfway through the meal. “Whew. I have to take a breather. Piper, tell us how things are going. How are your studies?”
I paused with my fork loaded with chicken and peppers halfway to my mouth. “Um. Good. Really good.”
My father’s eyebrows crept up toward his receding hairline. “That’s all we get? Good?”
I chewed with a hand over my mouth to buy myself some time. I’d been thinking about this not so intricate lie I’d woven to stop my parents from finding out I was actually serial dating twelve millionaires as part of the Casanova Club. They wouldn’t understand. There was no way I could spin it to make them see that I was really doing this for them.
All my father would think was that I was sleeping around with very wealthy men who all had bad intentions. And my mother would likely think the same thing. That I was, for lack of a better phrase, whoring myself out.
It was a conversation I did not want to have. Even if I told them I was doing this for the money at the end of the line, they would be horrified. Furious, even, since I’d stepped away from my responsibilities of helping them at their collapsing restaurant in order to do this.
They thought I was furthering my education and brightening my future. I couldn’t hold this deceit up forever. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that they would find out before the year ended.
Wouldn’t it be better to tell them myself? For them to hear it from my mouth rather than someone else’s? I could control the narrative that way. I could answer their questions and ease their minds. With some hard work and well thought out choices of words, I could convince them that this was a good thing for me. For all of us.
“Um,” I said again, dabbing at my lips with my napkin and then rubbing my hands nervously up and down my thighs. “Yeah. Things are good. But I… I actually need to talk to you guys about what I’ve been doing the last couple of months.”
Janie dropped her fork. “Oops.” She leaned down and picked it up, and her wild eyes met mine.
I looked away and at my father, who was watching me curiously. I licked my lips. “It’s not a big deal. I just think you guys should know.”
Phillip cleared his throat. I glanced at him. My brother widened his eyes and shook his head once. And firmly. His jaw was tight, the muscles flexed, and I was suddenly filled with doubt.
My father spared me from having to further explain myself. “You know, Piper, there’s something we have to talk to you about, too. Something important. And it might not be easy for you to hear. But your mother and I think it is best to tell you in person.”
My stomach fell to rest heavily on my hips. Oh God. “What is it?”
My father and mother exchanged a look that was not at all reassuring. Then he met my eye again and fixed a well rehearsed, it’s-all-going-to-be-okay smile on his lips. “I went to see the doctor earlier in February.”
Oh God.
“And it looks like my heart medication isn’t doing the trick anymore, sweetheart. My angina is getting worse. So we are looking at our options very carefully at the moment.”
“What?” I asked.
Janie looked back and forth between me and my parents as my mother took my father’s hand and smiled teary-eyed up at him. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Yes. But we don’t want you to worry, Piper. We can handle this. We always find a way to make things work, don’t we?”
I could feel my eyebrows drawing together as I struggled to make sense of this new information. “Looking at your options? What are said options?”
“Well,” my father said, not looking me in the eye. “I have to slow down and start eating better, of course. But it’s at a point where that won’t keep a heart attack at bay much longer. I have clogged arteries. Surgery is necessary.”
“Surgery?” I asked, my eyes flicking to Phillip.
My brother was fidgeting with the edge of his napkin, but he met my gaze and tried to give me a reassuring smile.
I looked back at my father. “How can you afford surgery?”
My father’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” I asked.
“It’s not your concern, Piper. Your mother and I—”
“Should sell the restaurant,” I said.
Silence bombarded me. Phillip had frozen and was staring at me like I’d just told them all I was pregnant with octuplets.
Janie let out a nervous giggle. “I’m going to go get that laundry started for you, Pipes. Take your time, everyone. There’s more curry in the pot. And um, yeah. Okay, bye.”
Janie hurried off down the hall and closed her bedroom door behind her.
My father was still staring at me. “Sell the restaurant? You think that’s the solution? To sell our pride and joy and just roll over?”
“What’s the alternative?” I asked a little sharper than I intended. “You keel over and drop dead because you’re trying to save a business that’s been dying for the last, what, six years? Dad, this makes no sense. Your health is so much more important than Piper’s Paradise and—”
“Enough, Piper,” my father said.
“But—”
“I said enough,” he barked, holding up his hand.
I clamped my mouth shut and shrank under his hard stare.
“How can you suggest we give up on our family’s legacy?” he asked. His voice was low. Sad. Hollow. Guilt rolled around in my stomach. “After everything we have given to the business, you think we should just sell it? Like it’s an old car?”
“That’s not what I meant, Dad. You’re putting words in my mouth. I just…” I shook my head, unsure how to proceed without saying the wrong thing again.
My father got to his feet and tossed his napkin down on the table. “You’ve changed, Piper. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder about the direction you’re going. I wonder where I led you astray.”
I blinked back tears. “Dad, you didn’t. You misunderstand.”
“I understand perfectly,” he said. “Don’t worry about us. We will figure this out, like we always do. Have fun at school.”
Chapter 3
Wyatt
My boots kicked up dust and dirt in my wake as I made my way from the loafing sheds in the east field, which I’d spent the morning working on. The roof was sinking, dipping low in the middle, and it would not make it through another winter without collapsing. I only had a couple more days of work left on it before it was in working order again and able to shelter the horses and cattle and sheep from the rain and wind we sometimes had in the spring.
I crossed past the two outbuildings, the tool shed, the barn, and then made my way up the winding road to the house, where I ducked in through the sliding glass doors off the back porch.
My cell phone was sitting on the kitchen counter, and it started ringing as soon as I closed the door behind me. I crossed the dining and living area and picked up the phone to discover that it was none other than Jackson Lee calling.
I answered. “Hey, man. Calling to remind me of all the rules for the month?”
Jackson’s familiar chuckle filled the line. “No. You’re not one of the boys I need to worry about. How are you, Wyatt?”
I ran a hand over my head and massaged my aching neck. I’d been out working since five in the morning, before dawn, and had given Dodge and Boone a late start. They’d been busting their asses to help out around the ranch in preparation for our busiest season, and every now and then, it was nice to sleep in. It had been so long for me, I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
“I’m good,” I said. “Keeping busy, of course.”
“Nervous?” Jackson asked. I could hear the hesitant smile I was sure he wore.
“I suppose, a bit. Yeah.”
“Don’t be. She’s a great girl. Her flight touches down at Austin International in two hours. Are you sending a car for her?”
I scratched at my stubble-covered jaw. “No, I’m going to pick her up myself.”
“Very well. Good luck, Wyatt. Enjoy the month, yeah?”
“I’m sure I will.”
“Can I offer you a bit of advice?”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Shoot.”
“Try to keep your blinders on. Ignore all the other bullshit and the fact that there are other guys in this, okay? It’s the only way to get through it. Trust me.”
“Are you assuming I’m going to fall in love?” I asked, laughing at my own expense.
“I’m not assuming anything. This process just has a way of sneaking up on you. One minute, you’re content with how your life is going, and the next, you’re so fucked because this girl has just flipped everything on its head and you barely know how to make your own damn coffee in the morning.”
“Damn,” I breathed. “Your girl really did a number on you last year, didn’t she?”
Jackson let out a somewhat embarrassed chuckle and sighed. “Yeah. She did. And I just… Look. I’m not allowed to say this kind of thing, so keep it between you and me, okay?”
“Of course.”
“I’m rooting for you, Wyatt.”
That gave me pause. “Wow. Jackson Lee, biased? Now I’ve seen it all. Nothing that happens this month can surprise me more than that.”
“Don’t be a wise ass.”
“I can’t help it. It’s in my blood.” I raked my fingers through my hair and leaned against the kitchen counter. Was Piper James really going to stir the pot that much? In thirty days? Not likely. “Thanks for the advice, man. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Good luck.”
Jackson hung up the phone, leaving me scratching my head as I took the old, creaky, wooden stairs up to the second level of the house to shower and get dressed—which was my first hurdle of the month.
What the hell was a man supposed to wear to pick up a girl he hardly knew from the airport? A girl he was supposed to be courting for the whole month?
And did people still say courting?
I stood in front of my open closet, my towel wrapped around my waist, water droplets drying slowly on my shoulders, staring at the top row of button-up shirts, all of which were plaid.
“I should’ve gone shopping,” I muttered as I plucked a blue and black one from its hanger and shrugged into it. Then I pulled on a pair of dark jeans and my black boar-suede leather vest. I checked myself in the mirror as I rolled the sleeves of the plaid shirt up to my elbows. “Good enough.”
Once I had my black boots on, I marched out to my silver Dodge Longhorn parked in the driveway in front of the house. Dodge and Boone were heading I my direction from the bunkhouse, where they slept and ate and, well, lived.
It was a two-bedroom old rancher that had been the original house on the property when the ranch was first established in the early nineteen twenties by my grandfather. It was fully equipped with everything they might need, and they had lived there comfortably for the last eight years, give or take. On some occasions, they’d even brought girls back to the bunkhouse. But it had been some time since either of them got lucky.
I would know. They told me as soon as it happened, like I was their older brother and they were my two younger siblings seeking approval.
Boone nodded at me when they were about twenty feet away. “Are you off to pick the girl up?”
“Yeah,” I said, opening the truck door. “And you might want to consider calling her Piper, rather than ‘the girl’.”
“Right.” Boone smiled crookedly. “Piper. What do you want us to start on while you’re gone? The loafing sheds?”
“Nah,” I said. “I got a good start on them this morning. Move the cattle from the south field to the east. The grass needs a break. Put the horses out, too.”
“You got it, boss,” Dodge said, giving me a mock military salute. “Now go get your lady. May I suggest you stop and pick up some flowers?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Not a bad idea, Dodge. Not bad at all.”
He smiled proudly as I climbed up into the truck and slid the keys into the ignition. The two ranch hands were already making their way across the property to the south field to herd the cattle when I pulled out down the long drive and past all the buildings toward Cherry Road. I rolled through the wrought-iron gates at the edge of the property and took a right to begin the forty-five minute drive out of farm country and toward Austin.
I stopped at a flower stand at the corner of Cherry Road and Lincoln Avenue. The Lincoln family owned a massive greenhouse at the crossroads, and in the spring and summer months, they sold trimmed flowers on the side of the road. In the winter, they had poinsettias and Christmas arrangements made by one of the eldes
t daughters, who opened her own florist shop in downtown Austin. Word had it she was having incredible success.
Today, the stand was operated by Roberta Lincoln, the wife of one of the grandsons. She was in her mid-forties and a ray of sunshine.
“Hello, Wyatt.” She smiled, standing up from the collapsible camping chair she had tucked under the table displaying her flowers. “How are you?”
“I’m good. And you?”
“Very well, thank you,” she said, smoothing out her floor-length floral-printed skirt. “What can I help you with?”
“Flowers,” I said absently as I scanned her table full of bright blooms of yellows, pinks, purples, reds, blues, and oranges.
“Oh my. Is there a lucky girl we don’t know about?”
The problem with ranching, in this area at least, was that everyone in the surrounding area almost always knew your business. This was a secret I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep for long, and telling Roberta would basically be announcing it over a loudspeaker that a girl was spending the month with me at my ranch.
So I chose my words carefully. “I’m not sure, to be honest. But I’d like to make a good first impression.”
Roberta, all smiles and bright, curious eyes, picked up a midsized bouquet and handed it to me. “Transvaal daisies. Beautiful, not classically romantic, and they last a fairly long time in fresh water. I can’t think of a girl who wouldn’t be happy to receive these.”
I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket.
Roberta shook her head at me. “Put that away, young man. Your money’s no good here. You’ve helped us out plenty of times up at the greenhouse. I hope she likes them.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the flowers from her. They were bundled in brown wax paper that crinkled in my palm and tied off with a piece of twine. “I appreciate it. I’ll see you around?”
“At the Doherty’s, probably.” Roberta grinned.
I tipped my head toward her. “Excellent. See you then.”
“I hope you bring your new friend!” she called after me as I got in the truck and closed the door.