Turning the key in the ignition, he sat still in the driver’s seat and stared through the bug-speckled windshield while the truck hissed as the engine cooled. Josie’s fifth wheel was a new fixture on the land, but it didn’t look out of place. And oddly, having her at his side didn’t feel out of place, either. But when her hand covered his—the warmth of it, the forgotten feel of a woman’s soft skin on his own—well, he thought for a split second he might know exactly what that more was that he wanted out of life.
Surely there was no way that was going to be Josie Friar.
8
Josie
“Gosh darn it!”
The shampoo bottle clattered to the shower basin, splitting the plastic along the seam and sending goop all across the walls of the fiberglass stall. Josie hated showering. Not that she enjoyed being dirty, but ever since breaking that dang arm it made commonplace practices like bathing as difficult as solving a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. But she knew she stunk to high heaven and a shower was in order, especially after the morning she’d had.
The horses were in rare, albeit welcome, form. She assumed she’d have to hold off on haltering them for a few days more, but when Bruiser sauntered right up after she entered the paddock with a wheelbarrow full of hay, she opted to try her luck. After all, she wouldn’t know their boundaries unless she tested them a little. To her delight, the mustang let her slip the halter over his muzzle with ease but just when she was about to flip the leather strap up and over to secure it under his throat, he reared—an all out, front hooves in the sky, nose to the clouds, rodeo-style rear.
She had managed to scoot out of the way in the nick of time, but couldn’t avoid landing on her backside, smack dab in the middle of a still-steaming, fresh manure pile. Sure, it helped break her fall, but left her smelling like the dumpster bin of a fully loaded garbage truck.
She didn’t let a little mess deter her, though. That’s what washing machines were for. She brushed herself off and tried again. And again. Each attempt was met with a fraction more success, until—three full hours later—she had Bruiser haltered with all four hooves safely planted on the ground. He even let her attach a lead rope but he wasn’t about to follow her around while tied to it. Josie would have to save that hurdle for another day.
Getting that halter on Bruiser was her biggest win with the horses yet. She’d learned as a young girl to always end on a good note with equines and with people. She had a hard time with the people part. Horses came easier. Always had.
By two o’clock, she had called it a day and walked the short distance back to her trailer. The driveway to the ranch was lined with ornamental pear trees, an autumnal arch of rich, vibrant color. Fall was clearly in full swing, showing off with fiery reds and burnt oranges on leaves that clung to branches with loose, noncommittal grasps. Many had already released their clutches to become part of the landscape below and Josie dodged the leafy piles that crunched under her boots. She shivered. She’d shrugged off her trucker jacket earlier in the day but figured by sundown it would be a necessity. There was a chill in the air that threatened to turn into a full blown wind in no time.
Once inside her trailer, she had immediately stripped out of her clothes, wadded them into a ball for the laundry basket, and ran a warm shower. It was easy to rinse away the day’s stench, less easy to scrub clean the purplish marks on her thighs left from the impact of her fall. That stallion was quickly earning his name, each and every syllable of it.
“Ahh,” Josie winced. There would be a hitch in her get along tomorrow, no question about that. She wasn’t a stranger to being knocked off kilter. Sometimes it was in the physical sense by a horse she’d read wrong. Other times, she was set off balance emotionally, more often than not because she’d read a person wrong.
She let the beads of scorching water pelt her back while she rolled out her shoulders and shrugged them up to her ears. Then she dropped them back down, her muscles aching but grateful for the sweet relief. Had she read Seth wrong the night before? She didn’t think so. She recognized that pain. Felt it like it was her own, as familiar as a not-so-distant memory. Had they not been playing this pretend relationship game, she doubted she would’ve so freely reached out in an attempt to console him. Maybe there was some testing of boundaries here, not unlike the way she challenged the mustangs to let her know where the line was. From what she could tell, Seth was okay with her reaction. Maybe he even needed that comfort, in that form, in that moment.
What surprised Josie the most was that she had needed it, too.
Shuddering, Josie grabbed the shower knob and gave it a hard twist. The water shut off, pooling in a frothy swirl near the drain at her feet until it disappeared with an audible glug. She yanked the towel draped over the shower door and buried her face in the terrycloth fabric, heaving out a warm breath that magnified the cotton scent of the detergent. She had just wrapped the towel around her body, tucking it up under her armpits, when a knock rattled her screen door.
“Who could that be?” she muttered to Cowboy who remained completely disinterested in their surprise afternoon visitor. He lifted his head just enough to show his indifference before dropping it back onto his paws and coiling his tail around the entirety of his body like a wraparound scarf. Josie often wished it was socially acceptable to block out the world the way that cat did. But a second, more insistent knock didn’t afford her that opportunity. “Alright. Alright. I’m coming!”
“Good afternoon, Josie,” a woman with salt and pepper corkscrew curls and a smile that revealed a full set of remarkably large teeth greeted when Josie kicked the screen open wide.
“And you are?” Josie tugged the towel tighter under her arms.
“Come on now. That’s no way to talk to your possible future mother-in-law.” The woman shouldered around Josie to let herself in. “Well goodness. This place sure is…quaint…Isn’t it, sweetheart?”
“Mrs. Ford!” Pinning her arms to her side, Josie willed the towel to stick to her body like superglue. “Nice to finally meet you.” She contemplated going in for a handshake, but didn’t put much faith in the fabric that served as the only thing preventing her from being as naked as a jaybird in front of a complete stranger. “I wasn’t expecting company, otherwise I would’ve been a bit more presentable.”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, dear.” Mrs. Ford moved up and down the narrow aisle of the trailer, her eyes examining each aspect of the home from the pile of crusted over dishes in the sink to the unmade bed at the rear. “Don’t know why Seth’s been keeping you from us for so long.”
“Well, you know Seth.”
“That I do. That I do.” The woman raked Josie up and down with the same, scrutinizing gaze she’d just used on the trailer. “I wanted to come by to formally introduce myself. Name’s Donna.”
“Glad to meet you, Donna.”
“I’m going to cut to the chase, Josie. We’re all a bit surprised by your presence here at the ranch. Sure, Seth has mentioned a girlfriend here and there over the years, but I guess none of us really realized how serious things had gotten. Not to say we aren’t happy. I’m pleased as punch that Seth has finally found himself what appears to be a good woman.” Donna’s eyes settled on Josie once again in an assessment of that premature declaration. “But if you’re going to live at the ranch, there are some things we’ll expect of you—”
“I’m already working for my board, ma’am. With the wild horses Seth rescued.”
“I don’t expect you to work the ranch, Josie, but if that’s something you and Seth have already arranged, then that’s fine by me. I meant, I expect you partake in the important things like Thursday night family dinners. Coffee on the porch Sunday mornings before we all head to church together. Those are just a few of the many Ford traditions around here and now you’ll be a part of them.”
Seth hadn’t mentioned any of these prerequisites, but Josie supposed she’d never asked.
“And since today is Thursday, we’ll plan
to see you two tonight at 6:00 sharp. Seth will know what to bring.”
Josie smiled. “I appreciate the invite, ma’am. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“It’s not an invite. Like I said, it’s an expectation.” Donna let herself out just as quickly as she’d shoved her way into Josie’s home, and with a flick of a dismissive wave over her shoulder, she added, “And I also expect you’ll have something on with just a touch more coverage.”
The way her stomach gurgled and roiled, Josie wondered if there had been something bad in the frozen burrito she wolfed down for lunch. She knew better of it. These were nerves, the buzzing, rumbling kind that threatened to twist her stomach contents in a cyclone and send them shooting back up and out.
Josie was already two chalky antacids in with little relief.
“Is it really worth it?” she asked her steam-coated reflection in the bathroom mirror. She knew it was. The horses needed her. She needed the land. Seth needed this farce of a relationship. But Josie wasn’t a performer. Her sisters—they were the dramatic ones, capable of emoting like silver screen actresses. With Josie, what you saw was exactly what you got. And right now, that was a broken-armed, blue jean clad, t-shirt wearing twenty-something with not much more to her name than the thirty-foot long piece of scrap metal she called home.
Sure. This was exactly the type of woman to win over judgmental, meddling mothers. Josie groaned.
There was only one thing powerful enough to take this nervous edge off and it was found inside a cold amber bottle. The six-pack she kept stocked in her fridge had recently dwindled down to two, but all she needed tonight was the one. Slamming the neck on the corner of the counter, Josie popped the cap off and threw back a deliberately long swallow that warmed her veins as the alcohol seeped into her body. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
“Starting early, I see.” Seth’s voice would’ve made her jump if she hadn’t already heard his boots coming up the gravel path to her trailer. It struck her as odd that she’d so quickly learned his gait. Like the hoof beat of a horse in the round pen, Josie was good at picking up the sound of a steady footfall verses a lame one. Seth’s beat was just a little off, one leg taking longer to catch up to the other, and she figured some sort of old injury was likely the cause.
“Can I offer you one?” She propped the door to the trailer open to welcome him in. Since his mother’s impromptu visit, Josie had taken the time to tidy up. Couldn’t get caught with her pants down—or completely off—again. “I’ve got one with your name on it.”
“No, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying yours.” He smiled as he pulled his white hat from his head and rested it on the counter next to Josie’s coffee maker that had three-day old liquid still in the pot. “Listen, I wanted to say that I’m really sorry my mom stopped by this afternoon without warning.”
“You gotta stop doing that.” Josie pointed the narrow opening of the bottle at him and shook it like a scolding finger. She smacked her mouth and squinted.
“Stop what?”
“Stop apologizing for your family. You aren’t them, Seth.”
“Maybe not, but I still feel guilty for their actions.”
Josie huffed. “If I allowed myself to be weighed down by the guilt of my family members’ transgressions, I’d have enough to bury myself at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. You aren’t them. They aren’t you.” Half the bottle gone, she placed the beer onto the ledge of the butcher block counter and moved to grab her jacket from the hook near the door. She handed Seth his hat. “I’m reserving my judgment of you for your actions. Not the actions of your mom or dad or brother.”
“Guess I ought to be on my best behavior then.” Like a gentleman from an earlier time, Seth fit his cowboy hat to his head and propped out his elbow. “Milady.”
“Okay, now I’m totally judging you.” Josie hadn’t planned to finish the beer in full, but Seth’s silly antics made her reach for another sip. “You this formal with all of your girlfriends?”
“No. Handholding is usually sufficient.”
“I can go for that.” Without another thought, Josie chucked the drained bottle to the trash and reached for Seth’s hand with her good one, hauling him out of the trailer and leading the way down the steps at a pace so quick Seth stumbled.
This wouldn’t be difficult. She could do this. His hand felt fine in hers. A little unnatural, but that seemed to be the state of things lately.
“Hey. Hold up a second.” Seth tugged her gently to ease up her determined stride. “Something feels a little off.” He wriggled his hand out of her grip and readjusted. “There. That’s better.”
Admittedly, it did feel more comfortable with his hand over hers, but there was a reversal of roles that Josie didn’t anticipate. She hadn’t meant to take the lead, although she didn’t really give Seth the chance to do so first. Was this really how relationships worked? No wonder Josie had dodged them for the entirety of her adult dating life.
“We only have to hold hands when we show up and when we leave. And I don’t expect any PDA while we’re at my parents’ house, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Funny how many expectations his mother had had when Seth—the one Josie was supposed to be in a relationship with—had so few.
“I could give you a kiss on the cheek for good measure,” Josie offered, only half joking. “And I’ll even throw in a little butt smack if you like.”
“Oh, wow. Yeah. No. That won’t be necessary.” Something that resembled a blush crept just above Seth’s scruff. “Hand holding is fine. Maybe you could also sit by me during the meal?”
“Absolutely. That was my plan.”
Josie sensed the relief in his smile. “I guess the good news is that I never really shared anything about my relationship with Bridgette with my parents, so you won’t have to keep any stories straight.”
“Just the one where we pretend to be madly in love with one another.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Just that one.”
9
Seth
Seth would be shocked if any tread remained on the bottoms of his nephews’ shoes after all of the circles they ran around him. It was like they were competing in some NASCAR race, both vying for the title, increasing in speed at each turn. They zipped about in his periphery, two cyclones of unbound, adolescent energy. At first Seth couldn’t keep from tracking their frenzied movements, but as the night wore on, their presence was more like a persistent gnat buzzing about rather than any real distraction. He easily managed to tune them out.
Seth remembered doing the same thing as a kid when his parents would sit on the back deck with Gramm and Pops, beers in hand and sun suspended low in the late October sky.
Tonight was a replica of those Thursday nights, just a different generation carrying it out. Dad had New Yorks on the grill for the men, petite filets for the women. Amy was always in charge of the side dish; Seth in charge of the dessert. Without fail, Amy would bring a casserole comprised of whatever ingredients she had left in her fridge after cooking for her family for the week. Usually some vegetable slathered in cheese or a sauce he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Seth would bring cookies. No surprise there.
It was always the same, a rerun of every previous family dinner at the ranch. That’s how tradition was created, Seth supposed, week by week, month by month, generation by generation.
But the woman at his side—the one who sparred good-naturedly with his brother, withstood his mother’s blatant, verbal criticisms, and cozied up with the family dog like it was her own—she was the only thing that made the night feel alive rather than the monotonous, drab routine it had progressively become.
Even now as he watched her from the other side of the fire pit, blue flames dancing between them in a hazy, smoke-filled filter, he felt an anticipation that bordered on excitement. Josie was a loose cannon and he not only liked that, he admired it. Everything about her surprised him. Heck, he’d even been surprised by the fact that she was
a woman the first time they’d met.
“Josie’s a piece of work, huh?” Tanner pinched the fabric on the knees of his pants to hike them up so he could take a seat next to Seth. He grunted when his backside hit the cushion. “Never met a woman that could match Mama jab for jab like that girl of yours. I can see why you’ve waited so long to bring her around. An impression like that can go one of two ways. Lucky for her, it seems like it’s working in her favor. So far, at least.”
Seth swirled the ice in his empty glass and lowered it to the ledge of the fire pit. Condensation slid off the sides in fat, wet drops that stained the bricks underneath. “It’s not that I intentionally kept her away from you all.”
“Sure, it isn’t.” Tanner’s voice was weighty with sarcasm. He dipped his hand into the cooler next to his chair and withdrew two beers, noticing Seth’s drink had already run dry. He passed one off. “Don’t know why you’re so ashamed of us, brother.”
“You think I’m ashamed of you?” Seth hit the first swallow hard. He had to hiss through the acidic sting before tossing another back.
“Either that or you think you’re too good for us, but maybe those things are one and the same.”
“It’s neither of those things.”
“Really? So you’ve had this girlfriend for a few years running and all of a sudden you not only bring her to the ranch, but move her onto it? I feel like there are some ulterior motives you’re not owning up to.”
“And just what would those be, Tan?” Seth set his beer on the table behind him so he’d really have to reach for it if he wanted another drink. It was too easy to down the entire thing with it resting in his hand. He had to pace himself. At this rate, he’d be two sheets to the wind before their conversation was over.
“You know Dad’s gearing up to retire,” Tanner said.
Take the Reins (A Cowboy's Promise Book 2) Page 6