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Authors: Sharon Gillenwater

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Jenna's Cowboy (28 page)

BOOK: Jenna's Cowboy
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“I’ll send Dub over with your things,” said her mom. “Sneak out before anybody notices.”

She told her aunts good-bye and asked her mom to give her regards to everyone else. “I think I spent a few minutes with almost everybody.”

Zach was asleep before she reached her house. She carried him into his bedroom and laid him in bed. Slipping off his shoes, she covered him with a light green blanket and closed the multicolored cowboy-themed curtains. He wiggled around in his sleep, kicking off the blanket and propped one leg up on the low railing of his “big boy” toddler bed. “Sleep well, sweetheart,” she whispered.

Her dad knocked on the back door, then opened it and came inside. “Here’s the diaper bag. I didn’t see anything else lying around.”

“Thanks, Dad. If we missed something, I’ll find it later.” Yawning, she covered her mouth with her hand. “Excuse me.”

“You’d better take a nap while you have the chance. I need to get back to the company. And the television. UT has the ball.”

“Hook ’em, horns.” No self-respecting UT alumni let an opportunity pass without saying the school slogan. “I’ll see y’all later. Thanks for bringing this over.”

“You’re welcome, sugar.”

She watched him walk down the drive back toward the ranch house, her heart filled with love. “I’m so blessed to have a wonderful family, Lord. Thank you for each one of them.”

Going into the living room, she sat down in her pale green recliner and kicked off her shoes. She raised the footrest, leaned back, and turned on the television, muting the sound. It only took a few minutes to find the football game. Texas had made another touchdown.

Yawning again, she closed her eyes. “I hope Mom gets a chance to do this soon.”

She woke up an hour later and peeked in on her son. He’d turned around in the bed but still slept soundly. Looking out the back window, she counted two fewer cars. Still a crowd. It probably wasn’t very nice, but she was relieved that Zach would probably take at least a two hour nap.

Settling back in the recliner, she flipped through the latest issue of
Southern Living
magazine. There were plenty of ideas for Christmas decorations but none of them worked for her. They had some fancy recipes for the holidays, but she was still too full to think about food.

Thinking about Nate was more interesting. And a little scary. She was in love with him. Despite the things he was going through, she loved him. He was the same kind, wonderful guy he’d always been. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but his heart was good. There were still some issues to deal with, but he was working on them, following the doctor’s orders, and equally important, drawing closer to the Lord. He’d come a long way since the meltdown at her folks four weeks ago.

She wondered how he was doing. How had he handled the big family get-together? Was he still at his uncle’s house in Odessa? Would it be tacky to call him there? She decided it wouldn’t hurt to call and wish him a happy Thanksgiving, no matter where he was. He only had a cell phone, so it wasn’t as if she could try his house first.

He answered on the third ring. There was a lot of cheering in the background. She peeked at the TV. The Aggies had tied up the game.

“Hi.” He was practically shouting. “Let me go outside so I can hear you.” The noise gradually faded, and she heard a door close. “Sorry about that. The Aggies around here are going crazy. How’s it going?”

“We’ve had a good day. Stuffed our faces until we waddled. Zach had a blast playing with my cousins and cousins’ kids. Chance and Will organized a touch football game. That lasted until the UT-A&M game started.”

“Sounds basically like a photocopy of our day. Too much food, a little touch football, a little catching up with the relatives, then piling up in the family room around the big screen TV to watch the game. It’s been good, but I miss you.”

“I miss you too. My grandparents will be here until about 1:00 on Saturday. Maybe we could go for a ride in the afternoon after they leave? The weather is supposed to be warm.”

“I should be caught up on the feeding by then. I’ll put it on my calendar. As if I’d have to make a note of a date with you.”

“Good. I’ll schedule it in too. In other words, con my mom into babysitting. Chance said you stopped by on Tuesday and shared your supper with him. That was nice of you.”

“It was good to hang out with him. I meant to call you last night or maybe go see you, but Mom decided I needed to learn how to make pumpkin pies.”

Jenna smiled but managed not to laugh out loud. From what she’d gathered, other than cooking breakfast, Nate wasn’t real at home in the kitchen. “How’d that go?”

“Not too bad. Mostly I watched her work. I think she wanted to spend some time with me. I did learn how to roll out the pie crust. I didn’t get the first one placed in the pan quite right, so it was a little lopsided. But everyone was still impressed when Mom told them I did it. She didn’t exactly fib, but it sounded as if I made the whole pie.”

“And you didn’t set the record straight.”

“Didn’t want to make her look bad in front of the kinfolk.”

Jenna heard Zach start to fuss. “Uh-oh, the boss is beginning to wake up. I’d better go get him before he gets too wound up.”

“Give him a hug for me. We probably won’t be home until late, but I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“Better yet, stop by. My grandparents would like to see you.” They’d known Nate since he was in junior high.

“Will do. Go rescue the kid.”

“Okay.” She almost said “I love you” but caught herself. She wouldn’t push. He needed to make that move first, for her sake and for his own. “Bye.”

“Bye, honey.” A simple end to the call but spoken with such tenderness that Jenna caught her breath. She clicked off the phone and closed her eyes, treasuring the moment in her heart.

Sometimes the words didn’t have to be said to know love was real.

23

On Saturday afternoon, Jenna saddled a palomino named Royal Gold but who had been affectionately called Trigger ever since Dub brought him home. He and Jenna had a special bond, much like the one Nate had with Winston. She rode the gelding to Nate’s house, trotting around back to the corrals where he had Ebony saddled and was feeding her an apple.

“Afternoon.” He flashed her a smile over the silky black horse’s back.

“Hi.” She looked over at the pasture fence where Winston was hovering. “Is Win jealous that you’re taking Ebony or does he want the treat?”

“Both, I suspect.” He reached up and pretended to cover Ebony’s ears with his hands. “Don’t tell anybody, but he sneaks over here every night for an apple. The other horses haven’t caught on to it yet.”

Ebony nuzzled Nate’s hand.

“He may have company from now on.”

“Yeah, he might.” Nate untied the reins from the corral railing, stepped back, and swung up into the saddle. He guided Ebony over toward Jenna. Trigger nickered softly, and Ebony greeted him the same way. “See, Eb, I told you Jenna was bringing a friend.” The horse shook her head and pranced a little. “She’s anxious to move.”

“Me too.” Jenna turned Trigger around and fell in beside Nate. “How about going over to Aidan’s Spring?”

“Sure.” It was the right distance for a good run, ending at a cold, clear spring. They walked the horses around the house, then out into the open pasture, slowly increasing their speed until they were galloping across the range side by side.

Nate spent half his time watching where they were going and the other half watching Jenna. He couldn’t imagine her living in a city away from the ranch, with no horse to ride, no chance to race the wind. Her face glowed with happiness. He hoped part of it was because she was with him and not only the exhilaration of the ride.

Reining in as they approached the spring, they gradually slowed the horses to a walk. They dismounted beneath a grove of pecan trees and let the horses graze on the grass growing near the spring.

“This is one of the few places that still has grass worth eating.” Jenna took off her hat, dropped to her knees, and cupped some cold water in her hands, taking a drink. Nate knelt beside her and did the same. They both had full canteens, but no water on the ranch tasted as pure and good as this.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and his hands on his jeans. “It’s getting awful dry. The dirt tanks are lower than they were last week.” He stood and offered her his hand. She took hold of it, let him help her up, and kept her fingers curled around his.

“We’d be in a world of hurt without the windmills. They’ve kept the ranch going when others failed during a drought. Daddy says even with them there have been times in the past 130 years that our family almost lost this place.

“I think he’s the best manager this ranch has ever had. Of course, I’m prejudiced, but I also keep the books, so I know how he does things. We have records going clear back to the beginning of the ranch, and I’ve looked through them all at one time or another. Most of my ancestors were pretty conservative with spending, but a few of them blew their money on an elaborate lifestyle. Huge house parties and travel all over the world. Great-great-uncle Jack went to England and basically bought himself an aristocratic bride.”

“So that’s why those Boston cousins of yours talk funny.”

Jenna laughed and playfully swatted him with her hat. Then she admitted, “They do talk funny. I’m not sure their English lineage has much to do with it at this point. Thankfully, my great-great-grandfather bought his brother’s share of the ranch to protect it. After that it became family tradition to pass the ranch on to the son best suited to run it, and give everyone else money as their inheritance.”

“But Dub’s already made all of you partners.”

“He figures it will work. I think so too. Chance and I have some say in things, but we both know that Will is the best one to be in charge when Daddy retires. Which will probably be when he’s a hundred.”

They walked over to a long bench built between a couple of big rocks underneath a large pecan tree. Laying their beige felt hats on one end of the bench, they sat down. Nate ran his finger lightly over the weathered wood. The first Callahan to settle the country had built one like it there for his bride. “What number is this?”

“Ten or eleven. Nobody is quite sure. Some of them have lasted longer than others, depending on the wood and the carpenter.” She relaxed against the back of the bench, releasing his hand. He promptly put his arm around her shoulders. “I love it here. I used to dream of having a house right over there.” She pointed to a clearing slightly beyond the trees.

“Maybe you should build one.”

“I’ve thought about it, but it’s good to be in the compound.” Jenna laughed and rested her head on his arm. “That’s what it is, you know. We may be grown, but the folks like having us close. And I like being there with them. There’s comfort and security with the family, but with each of us having our own place, we have our freedom too. It’s good all the way around.”

“When Will and Chance get married and have kids, Zach will have playmates right next door. That’s a good thing. It gets lonely being out in the country as an only child.”

“That’s why I take him to day care a couple of days a week.”

Maybe we’ll give him some brothers and sisters someday.
And he’ll be mine too.
How he wanted to say those words out loud! But he couldn’t. Children meant marriage. Until he was straightened out and playing with a full deck, he refused to bring up the subject.

“Chance said you had trouble with the fire on Tuesday night.”

What was she doing, reading his mind? “I came out of it pretty fast, thanks to him, but it’s clear I still have a big problem there.”

“Did it take you back to the building that blew up?”

He nodded. “I definitely won’t be using the fireplace at my house anytime soon. And avoiding others. Generally, I’m better than I was, but I think about the war every day. Not intentionally. Thoughts pop into my mind at the weirdest moments. Often there’s nothing that triggers them, at least not that I can figure out. I’ll be working away, and suddenly I’m thinking about Iraq or Afghanistan.”

“Bad things?”

“Sometimes, but not always. We had some good times over there too. Doctor Silverman says those kind of memories are fairly normal, and the every day thing might continue for years. I’m sleeping much better. Those CDs you loaned me have really helped. Which reminds me, I bought some of my own. You can have yours back.”

“Are you sure you don’t need them?”

“I’m good. I bought the same ones, plus some others.”

“Then I’ll take them back. I listen to them for enjoyment now, but they helped me through some tough times. I’m glad you’re doing so much better.” She reached up and caressed his jaw with her fingertips. “I was really worried about you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve put you through this.” He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’m better, but I’m not where I want to be. Not where I should be.”

She sat up, studying his face, searching his eyes. “What else is going on?”

“I still forget things sometimes. Get jumpy and irritable.”

“I haven’t noticed you being irritated.”

“The fence posts have.”

Jenna laughed and relaxed back beneath his arm. “I don’t know anybody who hasn’t lost his temper while fixing fence. Those posts and wire don’t always cooperate.”

“I suppose that’s true. There are other things. Yesterday I was coming home from town, and a car was parked beside the road with the hood up. I should have stopped to see if I could help. Even a year ago, I would have.

“But I flashed back to Iraq. Instead of a blond-headed businessman standing beside his car, I saw an Iraqi man in traditional dress. I was terrified that he might be a suicide bomber. I drove clear off the left side of the road in the bar ditch, racing past him as fast as I could. A few minutes later, I realized I wasn’t in Iraq. But I was too shaken and embarrassed to go back and see if he needed any help.”

“Does the doctor think that will go away?”

“Probably. I called Pastor Brad when I got home. He says he’s still nervous if he sees a car beside the road, but he doesn’t have flashbacks. And he stops to help. I think that’s the trick with cars along the road. If I can block the flashback before it happens, then check to see how I can help—like most men around here would do—maybe that will put a stop to them.

BOOK: Jenna's Cowboy
10.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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