"Are you goin' to be my mommy, Tracey?" Emily was just as loud and excited as Jackson.
"Now look what you did." Tracey set her mouth in a firm line.
"When? When are you goin' to marry my daddy?" Jackson wanted to know.
"We haven't decided," she said and pinched Austin hard on the inside of his right thigh. "You are awful," she whispered.
"Ouch! No, I'm not. I just happen to love you and want to marry you," he whispered back. His eyes were sparkling with fun and the cleft in his chin almost quivered.
"Daddy said he loves Mom," Jackson whispered loudly to Emily. Then the children put their heads together so Austin and Tracey couldn't hear what they were saying.
"You can't fight it forever, Trace." Austin picked up her hand and held it in the seat between them. "I know what I want." His voice was too low for the children to hear him. "To spend my life with you. And raise these kids. Think about it."
She slid across the seat to sit close to him, like she'd done in that old rattletrap truck he drove in college . . . the one she'd once hated with a passion, and thought she was entirely too good to ride in. Now she drove a car that was eleven years old because she hated the idea of a car payment and the Camaro was paid for. And the funny thing was, she didn't care a bit.
"I am thinking about it. And some other things, too." She whispered a few sweet nothings in his ear, kissing it softly, making his blood run hot.
He groaned softly. "Much more of that and we'll stop this wagon train for the night," he muttered.
They stopped for cold drinks in Denison and in about half an hour they turned off the highway. The countryside was dotted with farmhouses standing amidst fields of cotton almost ready for the machines to harvest it.
"We're nearly there!" Emily shouted. "I can see Maybelle in the pasture and there's your new horse right there beside her. Look, Jackson, he's got a white face and brown on his back."
They were unbuckled and out of the truck within seconds after Austin parked. They were off and running to the pasture fence where Grandpa waited for them, saddles resting on the fences, a smile on his face as he picked each of them up for a bear hug. Granny Ellie waited on the front porch, an apron tied around her waist, dropping to the faded knees of her jeans. She wore a red tee-shirt with the arms rolled up. Her dark hair was curled softly around her face and she didn't look a day over forty.
"So how'd your first day of drivin' go? Wear you out, son?" she asked.
"I'm fine, Momma. Feels good to get out of that apartment. Thank goodness I don't have to stay cooped up for a month. I'd be crazy as a loon." He hugged her gently and then started around the house.
"You both better get out there to that pasture to see Jackson ride the first time," she laughed. "Grandpa's been waitin' at the fence for more'n an hour. He can't wait to play with his new grandson. Trace, after you've watched him a while, come on in the back door and visit with me while I finish up the dinner. I've got a pitcher of ice tea ready and we'll have a glass. Hurry up, now, I hear them squealin'. That means Grandpa's got Maybelle saddled up and ready."
Austin led Tracey around to the backyard of the long ranch style house. Ellie had known what Emily's squeals meant, because one horse had a saddle on it and her Grandpa was giving Emily a boost up into it. She leaned down and kissed the horse's mane and patted her gently before she squeezed her knees together and the pony started off in a gentle trot.
"Momma and Daddy, come and see my new pony." Jackson said. "He's awesome. He's the best pony in the whole wide . . ."
"World," they both said at once, then laughed.
"First you put the blanket on him," Grandpa told the new cowboy. He explained each thing he was doing and Tracey found it more fascinating than Jackson, who was eager to be on the horse and riding just like Emily. When he finished, he told Jackson to sit easy in the saddle, squeeze his knees together and cluck a little with his tongue. He showed him how to pull on the reins this way to make him go that way, that way to make him go this way.
"Would you like me to lead him around the pasture for you once or twice?" Grandpa asked.
"Nope," Jackson said firmly. "But you forgot to tell me something. I have to lean down and kiss his mane and whisper in his ear how much I love him, then pet him before we go ridin' and I have to do it every time," he said seriously.
"That's right, my boy, I did forget," his grandfather nodded. "That's prob'ly the most important part of ridin' a pony, too."
Tracey held her breath like she always did when she was nervous. Without thinking, she grabbed Austin's hand and squeezed it until his fingers started to ache, but she didn't say a word. When the pony started walking and Jackson didn't fall off, she loosened her grip, but he wouldn't give her hand back. He held on just as tightly as she had done. When Jackson turned in the saddle and waved at her, she let out a long whoosh of air, jerked her hand free and waved back at him.
"It's all right, Trace," Austin put his arm around her waist. "He's a natural rider. Daddy said I was like that when I was about his age."
"Austin, you could ride anything." He proudly recited Austin's equestrian accomplishments for Tracey. "Had a pony when he was six but before that he rode the sheep in the local rodeo. Won a trophy when he was five. Strapped his hand down like the bull riders, put the other one up in the air and off they went. Jackson will be just fine, Trace. He's a Miller. Millers are born with horse sense. And besides, your daddy bought him a gentle little pony, so don't worry none."
Tracey laughed. "I'm a Walker. I think Walkers were born to worry."
"I think I'll go inside and have ice tea with your mom," she told Austin. She'd watched Jackson ride around the pasture a couple of times without falling off and fracturing his skull or breaking an arm, and she knew his new Grandpa would look after him every bit as well as his Poppa Jack.
She opened the wooden screen door into the country kitchen, a huge room surrounded with cabinets. A centerpiece of sunflowers and daisies sat in the middle of a long, wooden table, taking up most of the floor space with at least fifteen chairs around it. Ellie was up to her elbows in a bowl of dough, kneading it with her hands.
"Come right in here, child. Tea's in the refrigerator. Ice in the freezer. Glasses right in that cabinet, there." She nodded to her left. "Help yourself and fix me one, too. I'm gettin' this bread worked down for some hot rolls. The rest of the family will be here in a while when they get their chores done. We're so glad you and Jackson came to see us." She plumped the dough into a ball and started pinching off little chunks, which she lined up in perfect rows on greased pans.
"Thanks." Tracey poured two glasses of tea. "That bread dough smells wonderful."
"Bread always does. Boys used to love to walk in the door after school and smell homemade bread bakin'," she said. "Before I get too busy with makin' dinner I want to tell you how glad I am that you and Austin found each other again after all these years. Lord, I nearly gave up on him that Christmas six years ago. Never had any trouble with him before but all of a sudden he was out drinkin' with that awful Crystal. Then he walked right in to this kitchen and told me and his daddy he was marryin' her. We were heartbroken. We told Austin we'd help him and the child anyway we could, but we certainly didn't tell him to marry her. But he was damned and determined to do what he called the right thing."
"It's all in the past," Tracey said.
"Yep, it is. Thank goodness," Ellie said. "But I want you to understand how we see the situation. Crystal just up and left him with Emily, as you know. I try to be a step-in mother when I can but it ain't easy. She's goin' to get to the point where she needs a real mother, just like Jackson needs a real daddy. I'm so glad you and Austin are engaged. You know, Austin ain't a whole man without you. He completed his education and he's a good daddy to that child, but that wasn't ever enough. Since you two found each other again, he's got some life back in his eyes and he jokes with us like he used to. Lord, he was just a shell without a real heart 'til you came back in his life. I
just wanted you to know that before all the relatives got here."
"Mrs. Miller—" Tracey didn't have the courage to tell her this engagement stuff was all in Austin's imagination. "Thank you."
By the time all the families had arrived, the kitchen and living room tables were filled with casseroles, hot dishes, and platters. Tracey didn't know if she'd ever seen so much food for just one day in her entire life. Molly usually made a big spread for holidays, but this was just a Saturday family dinner. Was this in honor of her and Jackson?
"Do you do this often?" she asked Kelly, whom she was almost positive was Austin's sister-in-law.
"Oh, at least once a month, sometimes two or three times. The kids like to come and see Granny and Grandpa on Saturdays. Sometimes Grandpa needs to get hay in or harvest a little cotton and the boys all help. Tiff and Steph can drive a tractor or a combine just as well as the boys. Sometimes Granny needs us to help put up soup or green beans or corn when it gets ripe, so we help with that. If they don't need anything sometimes we all gather at one of our houses to catch up on the work there. It's just a family thing, I guess. By the way, Jackson sure is a cute kid. I can see him lookin' just like Austin when he gets older. Folks always tell us Austin and Dallas look a lot alike." She dropped her voice. "But Austin's better lookin'," she whispered. "Just don't tell Dallas that since I have to go to bed with him," she giggled.
Tracey laughed again. The Millers treated her like one of the family, even though she barely recollected most of their names. She couldn't remember if she'd ever felt so welcome in her whole life. At twelve o'clock on the button Ellie stepped out on the back porch and rang an old-fashioned dinner bell shaped like a triangle. When the men and children trooped in the back door, she told them to wash their hands, comb their hair and not to take all day doin' it because she was sure Jackson was hungry.
Fourteen adults sat around the kitchen table, which almost groaned with the weight of all the food. Twelve children, ranging in age from twenty-one to seven, sat around two big folding tables set end to end in the living room.
"Andy, you offer up grace, now." Ellie bowed her head and everyone followed suit. Austin slipped his hand under the table and took Tracey's hand in his while his father prayed, giving thanks for the day, the food and for the newest member of the family—Jackson.
Chapter Thirteen
At noon on Friday of the next week, Tracey got a phone call to come pick up her son at school. The nurse asked her to also inform Mr. Miller that Emily had spots on her neck and a slight fever. Before she left the college, she left word for Austin. Both kids had come down with chicken pox at last.
She could tell Jackson had a slight fever when she arrived. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes weren't as perky as usual, but Emily looked awful. She was hot when Tracey touched her and when they got to the car she curled up on her side of the backseat and put her little head on the arm rest.
When they got home, Jackson didn't bound up the stairs with his usual exuberance, and Emily seemed to have trouble just putting one foot in front of the other. Tracey put her in a tub of lukewarm water with a special oat-based bath powder the druggist had recommended for soothing the skin. She dripped water over Emily's back for a few minutes, where she counted at least forty bumps, then put her into a pair of Jackson's thin cotton pajamas and carried her to bed.
"I don't feel good, Mommy," she mumble. She cuddled down into Tracey's shoulder.
Had Emily really called her Mommy? "I'm going to call Doc Epperson. You rest now and I'll be right back." Tracey laid her gently on the bed and covered her with a sheet. "Jackson, come here and get your clothes off," she called to him. She lifted him up and set him into the bathtub, filled with fresh water and the special bath mixture. There were about twenty bumps on his back, several on his chest and stomach and two on his neck.
"Do they itch?" she asked, remembering her experience with them when she was fourteen years old.
"Not so bad," he said. "That feels good, Mommy. Can Emily stay with us tonight? She's real sick."
"Yes, and Molly's coming to help us, too," she told him, but even that didn't excite him like she thought it would.
She dressed him in cotton pajamas and put him in his own bed between cool white sheets and went to phone the doctor. He told her what to give the children to soothe the itch and bring down the fever. He also told her that in a couple of days the fever would be gone and they'd just have the pox to contend with, if that was any consolation. In a week, it would all be over.
"Mommy. I mean, Tracey," Emily whined, "where's my daddy?"
So she was back to being called plain old Tracey. She'd liked the sound of Mommy better. Oh, well. Tracey had other things to worry about right now.
"He's at school, but he'll be here soon. Jackson's Molly is coming to stay with us, too," she told the child.
"Mommy," Jackson whined, "Can Molly send us some gravy in the mail?"
"No, honey. You can't mail gravy. Maybe she can send you some cookies though," she consoled him.
"I'll puke if you talk about gravy right now. I want orange jello." Emily took her medicine and lay back on the pillows, two big scarlet circles on her cheeks.
"I'm sleepy," Jackson announced. Then he shut his eyes and went to sleep without another word.
"Sit beside me, Tracey," Emily said. "I'll go to sleep soon if you'll just sit here beside me, and hold my hand. I really do wish you were my real Mommy." She took Tracey's hand in hers and shut her eyes.
Austin arrived at two-thirty, briefcase in hand and went straight into Jackson's room. "How's the little poxers?"
"They're both asleep," she told him. "Emily's fever is higher than Jackson's. She called me mommy for the first time, Austin."
"And?" he waited. He never knew how Tracey would react and she tended to be skittish about this family stuff.
"I didn't mind. She's a sick child and she needed someone to comfort her," she explained. "I'll be her Mommy if she needs one."
"Don't forget she has a Daddy, too. I can take her home at night."
"That's not a good idea. Sick kids hate to be shuffled around. She can stay right here until it's over. You can come to supper at night."
"Emily is my daughter," he reminded her, his own eyes flashing. "I've raised her just fine 'til now by myself. I've seen her through teething and potty training and I think I can handle her chicken pox."
"Is that your pride I hear talking? This isn't her chicken pox. This is our chicken pox. We're all in this together, Austin. If you don't like her sleeping away from you, you can bring your shaving stuff and camp out on the couch," she told him, with her hands on her hips.
"I just might do that," he said.
Their noses were just inches from each other.
She didn't back down from his glare.
"Are you telling me what to do?" he asked. Then he broke into that lopsided grin she couldn't resist and leaned forward just a couple of inches to kiss her soundly. She tried to push him backwards but he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her tighter.
"Yes," she sputtered when he let go . . . but she was smiling, too.
They got Emily and Jackson through the chicken pox without killing each other after all, although Tracey was sorely tempted more than once. Molly came down from Purcell after the first few days, and one fine morning Emily woke up and there wasn't a single red spot left. She and Jackson danced a kindergarten version of the two-step around and around the living room until Tracey made them stop to take a breath.
The day that they went back to school, Austin insisted on dinner out. Molly obliged, and said she wouldn't hear of going back until Tracey agreed.
Somehow, Tracey had a feeling that Austin was up to something that night. She knew it for sure when he turned the truck south instead of north.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"El Chico's. If I remember right you like Mexican food better than anything . . . other than a back rub under your bra strap."
> "Good memory." Tracey smiled. "But it's fifty miles to El Chico's. Isn't there a Mexican place closer?"
"I want to talk." he said. "And we can talk the whole fifty miles. First I want to talk about money."
"That topic won't last for fifty miles. Neither one of us has any money to speak of."
Austin grinned.
"Actually, I've saved up enough for a down payment on a few acres. There's a piece of land I've looked at just east of Calera. It's about fifteen minutes from the college so it's not far to commute. The children could still go to school here in Durant. There's a small, three-bedroom house on the property. Plenty of room to add on," he said.
"And you want to buy this land? How many acres?"
"Sixty," he said. "And I could buy about a hundred more right next to it, if I want to run a few cows or put Maybelle and Abu out there. I'd have to build a barn for them, but my brothers would help me do that."
"Okay. What are you getting at?"
"I won't buy it if you've got a mind to live in town," he said.
He let that soak in for a few minutes.
"I never did live right in town, you know," she said. "I've saved up a little, too. I've thought about buying a little house for me and Jackson for a while."
"But I want to pay—" He stopped himself mid-sentence.
"Pride sure can mess up a hell of a lot of lives," she reminded him. Tracey slid across the seat and put her hand on his thigh. A fine sweat formed on his upper lip in spite of the cool evening. "If we pooled our money then we could buy the other hundred acres and not just lease them," she told him.
"Are you really willin' to live in a little town?"
"If you'll let me use my savings to pay for part of it."
"Okay." He drew out the word like he always did.
"Is that all? We have forty-two miles to go and we used up the money discussion."
"That's all for now."
Tracey stayed close to him and even laid her head on his shoulder, looking out at the road before them.
They were comfortably quiet for the rest of the trip. Tracey knew she had made up her mind about their relationship and it was a decision that couldn't be hurried. It had come about slowly, just like her relationship with Emily. She didn't see Crystal when she looked at the child anymore. She just saw Emily, who was Jackson's sister and Austin's daughter and her . . . just where did Emily fit in with her? She'd learned to love the child, but hadn't realized just how much until the night Emily'd had a fever and cried out in her sleep for Tracey to hold her. And called her Mommy, just as naturally as Austin did.
Small Town Romance Collection: Four Complete Romances & A New Novella Page 28