Going Cowboy Crazy (20 page)

Slate straightened and tried to act like he could breathe.

Kenny winked. “I guess you proved to her that nobody does sexual on-counters like a man.”

If Slate didn’t die in the next few seconds from lack of oxygen, he was going straight home.

To pack.

B
URL AND
J
ENNA’S HOUSE WAS BIGGER
than the house Faith grew up in and much more cluttered. The huge corner lot surrounding the aluminum-sided home and separate cinder block garage was filled with a new Cadillac, an old Cadillac, a beat-up pickup truck, a flatbed trailer, numerous motorcycles, and a rusted tractor. One of the only spots without some kind of vehicle on it was the rectangle of grass that grew in front of the wide front porch, although it was covered with a multitude of whirling lawn ornaments.

Faith pulled Shirlene’s Navigator in behind the new Cadillac and turned off the engine. She couldn’t say what had changed her mind about coming: Shirlene’s constant badgering, the need for Hope’s address, or the unquenchable curiosity about her birth parents.

But now that Faith was there, she couldn’t quite bring herself to open the car door. A strange paralysis had claimed her limbs. And there was no telling how long she would’ve sat there if a pack of dogs hadn’t come charging around the side of the house, barking and yelping. Two
large hound dogs and two smaller wiry dogs raced over to the SUV.

Fearing that they would jump up on Shirlene’s car and scratch it, Faith started to get out. Unfortunately, she swung the door open a little too quickly and it clipped one of the hounds in the head, causing the dog to squeal out in pain. Which in turn caused the other dogs to turn tail and run off.

“Ohmygod.” She grabbed her purse and searched for her disinfectant wipes. But by the time she got one and climbed out of the truck, the dog was staggering away.

“Faith?”

Jenna stood on the front porch, an expectant look on her face. She lifted a hand in a hesitant wave as Faith closed the truck door. But instead of waving back, Faith took a deep breath and smoothed the wrinkles from her wool pants.

She’d gotten dressed in her conservative clothes that morning in a vain attempt to bring sanity back to her life. It was so much easier to blame the Wranglers and boots for the events of the previous day than it was to blame herself. Of course, the western clothes hadn’t forced her to hold a man at gunpoint or tell a room full of women a bunch of bizarre lies. Or almost devour an arrogant cowboy in the men’s bathroom.

Just the thought of the way she’d kissed Slate made her cringe.

But one horrible situation at a time.

Walking around the front of the truck, Faith wondered how to address the woman. Mrs. Scroggs seemed too formal and Jenna too familiar. And “mother” was completely out of the question. Maybe it was best not to call her anything.

“I think your dog is hurt.” She pointed around the corner, the wipe still clutched in her hand.

“Oh, those ain’t my dogs.” Jenna smiled and moved to the top of the steps. “Burl has bad allergies.”

“But they came around from the back.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah, they sit back there in the shade sometimes.”

“Do you know who they belong to? Because I think one might be hurt.”

Her brow knotted. “I think one of them belongs to Tyler Jones, but I don’t know which one. And the other three, I couldn’t tell you.”

Not sure what else to do, she held the wipe out to Jenna. “Well, if you see the brown and black hound dog, you might want to use this on his head.”

Jenna stared at the wipe in confusion until Faith clarified.

“It’s a disinfectant wipe.”

“Oh.” She reached out and took it, then stuffed it in the front pocket of her blue jean skirt.

Faith’s mother had never worn blue jean skirts. Or bright pink shirts. Or beige cowboy boots with intricate pink stitching. Or long dangling silver earrings that got caught up in hair the color of deep rich soil—the exact color of Faith’s before she got it highlighted.

As long as Faith could remember, her mother had always worn wool slacks and starched pastel blouses, and kept her gray-streaked hair short and her face makeup free. Unlike this woman, who had applied a variety of cosmetics to a face that looked too youthful to belong to a mother of a thirty-year-old—let alone two.

While Faith took in the familiar features, Jenna
appeared to be doing the same. She stood on the top step with the toes of her boots hanging over the edge as her gaze wandered over Faith with an almost hungry intensity.

Suddenly uncomfortable with the emotions that pushed up from somewhere deep inside, Faith looked away and studied the pinwheel petals of a plastic sunflower lawn ornament.

“Goodness.” Jenna finally spoke. “Where are my manners?” She stepped back and pulled open the screen door. “Please come on in.”

Faith shook her head. “I don’t want to keep you. I realize you just got off work and it’s close to dinnertime.”

“Oh, shoot.” Jenna swatted the air. “You ain’t keeping me. Tonight’s Burl’s bowling night, and I usually just eat whatever’s in the fridge and watch the daytime shows that I TiVo. Are you hungry? I’ve got leftover chicken and dumplings.”

“Really, I can’t stay. I just stopped by to see if you had Hope’s address.”

“Oh.” Her face fell, and she let the screen door slam. “I guess you’re in a hurry to get to California?” Without waiting for a reply, she continued. “I figure your mama told you where to start looking.”

Faith nodded.

“But she didn’t tell you about me.” It was a statement rather than a question, so Faith didn’t acknowledge it as Jenna moved over to the railing that ran around the deep porch. “Me and Burl really must’ve surprised you the other day.”

“You could say that.” Standing mere feet from the woman, Faith still felt surprised. And angry.

“I’m sorry.” Jenna studied the brightly colored mums that bordered the porch. “If I had known it was you with Slate instead of Hope, I never would’ve barged in like that.”

“So you would’ve gone on pretending you weren’t my mother?” Faith knew she was being cruel, but she couldn’t help it. She thought she had her emotions under control. Obviously not, although the pain-filled brown eyes that stared back at her didn’t exactly make her feel good about the snide remark.

“Maybe that would’ve been for the best.”

“Maybe.” She turned away, needing some distance between her and the petite woman who brought out the worst in her. She stared out past the yard to the wide open field on the other side, wishing she’d never come to Jenna’s—or to Bramble.

There was a squeak and a rattle of chains, and she glanced up to see Jenna take a seat on the faded cushion of the porch swing.

“But I guess it’s too late to go back,” she said, more to herself than to Faith. “ ’Course even if I could go back, I’d still be a young, stupid fifteen-year-old and probably make all the same mistakes.”

“Fifteen? You were only fifteen?” Faith moved closer to the porch.

Jenna nodded and sent her a weak smile as the swing creaked back and forth. “Fifteen and in love. A dangerous combination.”

Faith tried to conjure up an image of herself at fifteen. A short, skinny kid with acne on her chin and braces on her teeth. A scared, insecure ninth grader who refused to use the school bathroom because of the fungus she might
catch or kiss boys because of the germs. Pregnant? It was too mind-boggling to even consider.

“How old was Burl?” she asked.

“Seventeen.”

Seventeen. It wasn’t much better.

She climbed the steps. “But how—I mean… I guess I’m wondering why you didn’t just get an abortion.”

“We talked about it. But both me and Burl were raised Christian, and it didn’t seem right. So we decided to put the baby up for adoption.”

“Baby?”

“We didn’t realize I was going to have twins.”

“The ultrasound didn’t show that?”

“Never had one. Back then, it wasn’t such a big deal, and Doc Mathers isn’t one to spend a lot of time with prenatal nonsense. So we were pretty surprised when two came out instead of one.”

“So why didn’t you put both of us up for adoption?”

Jenna’s eyes welled with tears. “I guess because after I held both of you, I didn’t want to let go. Of course, I couldn’t keep you both, not when your mama was there waiting for the baby I’d promised her. But the other one…” She shrugged. “Well, me and Burl just figured it was fate—that God wanted us to keep one.”

A tight knot formed in Faith’s chest. “But why me?” It was a question that had plagued her for the last few days. A question she hadn’t wanted to ask—but needed to.

Jenna released a deep sigh. “Both Burl’s parents and mine were poor, so we knew how hard a life could be without money. And since we were both so young, unmarried, and still in high school, I figured our lives together wouldn’t be much better. So I wanted to choose the
strongest one. The one that could survive all the hardships ahead. Hope came out first all red-faced and squalling to beat the band, while you came out all soft and sweet. I figured the oldest and loudest would survive the best.” She looked down at her folded hands as tears splashed over her knuckles. “I guess it wasn’t the best way to decide, but it was the only way I knew how.”

A tear traced down Faith’s cheek, and she quickly brushed it away before she turned and placed her hands on the porch railing. The anger was gone, but the hurt still remained. Even if Jenna’s decision made sense, it was still hard to accept the fact that she was the one given away.

“I was sorry to hear about your mama,” Jenna whispered. “Was she a good one?”

Faith nodded, afraid if she opened her mouth she’d end up squalling to beat the band.

“That’s good. Even though I helped pick out your parents, I still worried about that. Although she was a better mother than I was—when she found out I’d had twins, she wanted to adopt you both.”

So her mother had known Hope was kept by her biological parents. Faith should’ve been angry about the deception, but all she felt was sorrow. Sorrow for a teenage mother burdened with adult decisions, and sorrow for the adoptive mom who only wanted to protect her child from the painful truth.

Fighting back the tears, she allowed her gaze to wander around the yard that was so different from the one she grew up in. Not different in a bad way, just different. Maybe it had been fate that two children were born instead of one. Fate that Faith didn’t cry and Hope did. Fate that Faith grew up in a small brick house with no
siblings and Hope grew up here with three. And fate that her search led her here to Bramble instead of Los Angeles, where she might never have gotten to meet the people who had made that difficult decision.

“Good Lord, would you look at me?” The porch swing creaked as Jenna got up.

Swiping her tears away, Faith turned and watched as Jenna pulled the disinfectant wipe from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. She lifted a hand to stop her, but then let it drop. At least she hadn’t put it in her mouth.

“I probably should be going,” Faith said.

Jenna’s face fell, but she quickly recovered and waved a hand. “And here I am yammerin’ my fool head off—something I do when I get nervous.”

Faith smiled. “So do you have Hope’s address?”

“I wish I could help you out with that, honey. I really do. But she just moved into a new apartment, and I keep forgetting to get it when she calls. Of course, once we get to gossiping, everything goes straight out the window.”

“How long has it been since you talked?”

“Just a little over a week. She usually calls on Sundays, but this past Sunday we were in Lubbock visiting Jenna Jay.”

“So you haven’t told her about me?”

Jenna’s eyes flickered down to the toes of her boots. “No—but I’m going to. I should’ve told her a long time ago.” She looked back up, her eyes sad and sincere. “It wasn’t fair to either one of you.”

It wasn’t fair. But if Faith had learned anything in the last few months, it was just how unfair life could be.

“Say,” Jenna said, her face suddenly hopeful, “why don’t you come back on Sunday and have Sunday dinner
with us? That way you can be right here when Hope calls. Besides, Dallas is supposed to come home from Austin. And I could try to get Tessa and Jenna to come back, too. That way, you would get to meet your brother and sisters before you head out to Hope’s.”

She’d had months to get used to the idea of having a sister and only days to get used to the idea of having a big family. Still, she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to meet her siblings.

“I guess I could stop by for a little while,” Faith conceded.

Jenna beamed. “Good. And besides, it will probably be best to give Hope a heads-up before you show up on her doorstep. She don’t really like—”

“Surprises,” Faith finished for her.

Jenna grinned sheepishly. “Pretty much. I just hope no one in town lets it slip before I talk with her.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Not when the entire town is convinced I’m Hope.”