Rugged Cowboy

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Rugged Cowboy Page 13

by Elana Johnson


  Dallas had loved her in that moment, but he knew he wasn’t in love with her. He liked her a lot, sure. The kids did too. But they all needed more time to get to a place of love.

  “Going slow is probably a good idea,” his dad said. “I suppose your mother will need help with carving the turkey.” He looked at Dallas. “Take your time with Jess if you need it, son,” he said. “If she’s the one, it’ll work out.”

  “Thanks.” Dallas wasn’t sure what he was thanking his father for. Perhaps just letting him into the shed and then forgiving him so easily. Dallas knew it hadn’t been easy for his dad to get to that point, and he knew he still had a long way to go to show that he was a Dreyer, and that that meant something.

  He couldn’t wait to call Jess and tell her how things had gone with his father, and he supposed it meant something that she was the one person he wanted to share his good news with.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jess refused to allow herself to look toward the clock hanging in the stables. Dallas would call her when he got back to town. They’d spoken that morning, and he’d said he was going to eat breakfast with his family and then hit the road. From Temple, Sweet Water Falls was just under four hours, and he had children who might need to stop.

  She missed him, that was all.

  Jess knew it was a little bit more than that, as she’d had a serious discussion with Dallas when he’d brought up the idea of going to see his family for Thanksgiving. She’d thought he was inviting her along and wanted to know her opinion on what they should do.

  Turned out that no, he just wanted her opinion on what he should do. He’d told her that he didn’t get along great with his father, and perhaps him making the drive and showing up for the family feast would put too much tension and awkwardness on everyone else, himself included.

  Once she’d learned that, she’d been flustered. He said he wasn’t ready to introduce her to anyone in his family yet, and Jess supposed she could respect that. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about her family, and if she was ready to take Dallas home to meet them.

  She honestly didn’t know. She hadn’t quite made it to this stage of a relationship before. Once Christmas arrived, Jess would be in purely uncharted waters, as by then, he would be the longest romantic relationship she’d ever had.

  Her stomach squeezed, and she moved down the row of stalls to the next one. “Hey, Momma,” she said to the horse there. Her real name was Weeping Willow, but she was due with a foal in a few months. Jess stroked Willow’s neck and up to her ears. “You doing okay today?”

  The mare blew her breath through her lips, and Jess smiled at her. “Yeah, I can imagine.” She wasn’t exactly sure what the horse had said, but she didn’t think Willow was very comfortable these days. She’d started getting bigger and bigger, her belly obviously swollen with new life.

  Jess thought about Thomas and Remmy and the candy turkeys she’d bought for them. She hadn’t been able to give them to the children before they’d left to visit their grandparents, and she mentally reminded herself to take them with her to Dallas’s that night.

  “Maybe you won’t go,” she told herself.

  During their serious talk, they’d agreed to go slow. Jess had been fine with it at the time, but lately, she felt like she initiated every conversation. She was the one stopping by his office during the day to see him. She was the one bringing him and the kids dinner and staying to watch a movie or play a board game. She was the one texting him questions about heart surgery, or prison, or tractors, or his kids, or dogs.

  He responded, and he sometimes asked her about Montana or her time in Calgary with the rodeo horses there, but not much. Jess felt like her life was very boring—that she herself was very boring—and soon enough, Dallas would realize it and break up with her.

  At the same time, Jess wanted time to get to know Dallas and his children. She wasn’t just taking on a boyfriend or a husband. She’d be a mother to two kids instantly, and she had a lot to think about when it came to this relationship.

  Thomas and Remmy deserved a mother figure who loved them deeply, as they’d already had a lot of trauma surrounding their family life. Jess didn’t want to add to that; quite the opposite, in fact. She wanted to allow them the opportunity to heal from that, and she knew that would take time.

  Dallas had called a few days ago to say his father had received him better than Dallas could’ve hoped for, and Jess couldn’t stop smiling about that. He’d also said he’d seen some things in his son he hadn’t realized, and that he wanted to look into getting someone for the boy to talk to once they returned to Sweet Water Falls.

  Jess didn’t know much about therapy or therapists, but Nate did, and she was sure Dallas would get the help he needed.

  She hadn’t seen anyone fishy hanging around the ranch. No one had come looking for Dallas in weeks now, and she’d stopped asking about his ex-wife. Still, a certain sense of curiosity ate through her from time to time, and Jess couldn’t stop herself from looking at the clock.

  Only noon.

  She sighed and moved down the row to the next horse. She didn’t mean to lunge for her phone when it chimed, but lunge she did. Dallas’s name sat on the screen, and she smiled widely as she swiped and tapped to open the message.

  Dinner tonight? he’d asked. Just me and you. I’m feeling disconnected from you.

  She couldn’t type out the word yes fast enough, and he sent back a smiley face and nothing more.

  “At least he can feel it too,” she muttered to herself. That meant something, right? She asked horse after horse as she visited them to make sure they were all doing well, and then she went back to the West Wing, where Ginger and Nate were hosting the final stage of the cook-off they’d started on Thanksgiving night.

  They’d taken all the leftovers and separated them into individual portions with turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and gravy. They’d challenged three people to come up with the best use of Thanksgiving leftovers in a “battle to the death,” that had really ended in laugher and some of the most delicious mashed potato cakes Jess had ever tasted.

  Emma had entered, of course, as she was a whiz in the kitchen. Spencer had thrown his hat into the ring, and Jess had actually been impressed when his dish had won the first round. Not just scraped by but won.

  The last two contestants were Hannah and Bill, and Jess had watched them perform a delicate dance in the kitchen as they sliced, diced, baked, and broiled their way toward ranch fame.

  Emma had come in second to Spencer’s Thanksgiving pot pie, complete with flaky sweet potato crust and “stuffing bombs” that were really just mashed potatoes and stuffing bound together with flour and egg and fried. He’d done something magical with the spices, though, and they were the perfect thing to dip into the creamy sauce of the pot pie and pop the whole thing in her mouth.

  Those two had advanced to the next round, along with Bill. He’d slung his arm around Hannah when the announcement was made, and they’d laughed together while he pressed a kiss to her temple.

  She’d seemed so happy, and Jess was happy for her.

  Round two had been yesterday, and Bill had been eliminated when he forgot about his mashed potato “toast points” and not gotten all of the ingredients on the plate.

  “All right, all right,” Nate said, holding up his arms. Folding chairs had been set up and furniture rearranged so people could sit and view the cooking. “We’ve got Spencer Rust on this side of the kitchen.” He indicated Spence with a huge smile on his face. The assembled crowd went wild, and Jess moved out of the way as Ted and Missy squeezed into the kitchen behind her.

  Three more cowboys followed, and Jess figured she better get a seat now or she’d be standing to watch the cook-off.

  “And Emma on this half of the kitchen,” Nate said. More cheers filled the room, and Jess added her voice to those siding with Emma. In moments like these, Jess didn’t miss her family. She had a new group of people she belo
nged to here at Hope Eternal Ranch, and she sometimes marveled at how well Ginger integrated everyone into the ranch, no matter how small their role was or how short their visit lasted.

  Jess wanted to build something like that for her own family, but she didn’t know how. She lived too far away from Montana, but her thoughts lingered on Dallas, Thomas, and Remmy. Perhaps if they became a family, they could start to build a place where all were welcome, no matter what time of day, what condition they were in, or how far they still needed to go to make things right.

  Ginger had started taking men from the Bureau of Prisons as a way to make ends meet on the ranch, but Jess had seen her heart grow and expand beyond belief as everyone who’d been on the ranch for any length of time could see that it was about more than money now.

  Jess’s own heart and mind had been opened in ways she’d never thought possible, as she hadn’t given dating Dallas a second thought, at least not because he was an ex-convict.

  People made mistakes.

  She knew she did, and she wanted to believe that with some effort and some honest sincerity, those wrongs could be righted.

  She faded into the background by taking a folding chair on the side of the room as Nate and Ginger tag-teamed explaining the rules. She’d been present for both of the other rounds though—as had everyone else—so going over the rules wasn’t necessary. They did it though, and then Nate circled the long kitchen island and said, “Ready, set, cook!”

  Emma and Spencer flew into action, and Jess clapped along with everyone else. They had an hour to present their best Thanksgiving Day leftover meal, and the excitement would wear off in about two minutes.

  Only when Ginger would pretend to be a television host and go into the kitchen to ask questions would the crowd be stimulated again, and Jess looked down the row to where Jill sat with Michelle and Nick. She scooted down to the next empty chair and smiled at Jill.

  Nick leaned over her and said, “We’ve got a friendly competition going on Spence.”

  “What about him?” Jess asked, watching him pull a mixing bowl toward him and dump all of his mashed potatoes into it.

  “If he wins, Ginger said she’ll host a Christmas giveaway.” He grinned like Santa Claus had come early.

  “And if he loses?” Jess asked, wondering if she could cheer against Emma.

  “Nothing.” Nick shrugged and looked back into the kitchen. “I want that giveaway,” he said. “Her dad used to do them, and he gave out envelopes of money.”

  Jess smiled, but deep down, she didn’t think Ginger would do that. Hope Eternal was thriving now, but not to the point where she could just give away everything.

  Her attention wandered until the last five minutes, when both Nate and Ginger went into narration mode. Finally, the last second ticked away, and both Emma and Spence had put their plates on the front of the island. They hugged, both of them laughing, and went to stand beside their plate of food.

  “Judges,” Ginger announced, putting the big bowl of folded papers between the plates. Jess had not been called to judge yet, but anyone could taste the food once the winner was declared. That was how she’d gotten half of that perfectly fried mashed potato cake. Her stomach rumbled for lunch, and she hoped she’d get called to judge now.

  Ginger pulled out the first name. “Nick.”

  He whooped and bolted to his feet. Jess already knew who he was going to vote for, and he hadn’t even tasted the food yet. She shook her head and dutifully clapped as Nick made his way to the front of the room as if he’d already won a huge prize.

  “Missy,” Ginger called, and Jess saw the votes get tied up.

  Spence started to protest, but Ginger silenced him with a look. She pulled the last name out of the bowl, and read, “Jess.”

  Surprise and dread moved through her, and she stood up. Everyone watched her walk to the front and pick up a fork.

  “What do you have?” Nate asked Emma.

  “This is a turkey cordon bleu,” she said. “With a slightly sweet cranberry gravy sauce, twice-fried potato cubes, and a sweet potato glaze.”

  Jess looked at the beautiful plate of food. The turkey had been rolled in dried stuffing crumbs, which was pretty ingenious in Jess’s opinion. She wasn’t sure about the cranberry gravy, but the moment she put a bite of the meat, cheese, ham, and sauce in her mouth, she was sold.

  The potato cubes practically melted in her mouth, and they had a burst of cheese inside them too. The glaze on the outside of them was almost crispy, producing a soft and hard texture that Jess really liked.

  Nick liked it too, she could tell.

  “Spence?” Ginger asked.

  “I’ve got a turkey pie,” he said. That was it. It was actually in a pie plate, with whipped mashed potatoes that looked like buttercream frosting. When he cut into it, Jess found he’d used the stuffing for the crust, and layered turkey over that. The whole thing was covered in gravy, cranberries, and then the potatoes.

  It certainly wasn’t as inventive or as sophisticated as Emma’s. It did taste good, though.

  Jess conferred with Missy and Nick, and they voted the way she expected them to. They both looked at her while Ginger said, “Judges?”

  She stepped back in front of the crowd. Nick said, “Spencer,” and the crowd went wild.

  “Emma,” Missy said, and more cheering met Jess’s ears.

  Silence draped the kitchen then, and Jess rather liked the power she held in her hand. She looked at Emma, then Spencer, then Nick.

  She couldn’t help herself, and she had to vote with her conscience. She opened her mouth and said, “Emma.”

  The room erupted, both with happy cowboys and cowgirls, and unhappy ones. Jess shrugged at Nick and went to tell Spence his food was really good. He was good-natured about it, and others came up to sample the food too.

  Jess slipped away after that, as she had a date she needed to get ready for. Dallas hadn’t said what time he’d come to get her, and her texts to ask him went unanswered. They’d gone to dinner right after work in the past. Sometimes later at six-thirty or seven.

  Jess didn’t panic at five. Or six. By seven, when she’d been ready for over two hours and had a dozen unread texts out to Dallas, her annoyance with the man had grown wings and taken flight.

  “Don’t text him again,” she told herself in the quiet stillness of her own room. “Don’t call him. He has eyes.”

  At the same time, she worried that something bad had happened to him or the children. Perhaps they’d gotten in a car accident. Perhaps they’d been delayed due to traffic or a freeway closure.

  Her mind went round and round, and she got up to match her body movement to the way her brain couldn’t settle. She paced from one end of her room to the other, desperate for someone to just tell her what to do.

  No one did, and Jess had to make her own decision. She dialed Dallas, her heart beating in her throat. Once, twice, three times, and finally he said, “Jess, I have ten seconds. I’m fixing a truck to pay off Martha’s debt. Can we reschedule?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dallas hung up the moment Jess said yes. The last thing he needed was for Josh to catch him on the phone. He shoved the device in his back pocket, wiped his hands on the rag he’d been using, and turned back to the driveway.

  He and the kids had been home for less than an hour when someone had knocked on their door. Josh himself had stood there, and Dallas had only known panic as severe two other times in his life. First, when he’d been arrested and charged with a wrongful death suit. Second, the first day he’d entered River Bay and been beaten to within breaths of his life.

  A man like Josh Hurley had done that, and Dallas could see the malice in the other man’s eyes the moment he’d opened the door. He’d closed it just as fast and moved his children into the master bedroom. “Don’t come out,” he told them. “No matter what. Promise me right now.”

  They’d both promised, and Dallas had locked the door behind him. By the time he made it bac
k to the living room, Josh was yelling and kicking at the door. Dallas had opened it again, because while he had enough money now, he didn’t need to be replacing the door on this rental house.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I need you to fix my friend’s truck.” Josh indicated the white one-ton truck in the driveway, a muscled, tattooed man leaning against the driver’s door.

  That had been four hours ago. Josh had given a steady stream of rules as Dallas went down the front sidewalk to the truck, and one of those was no phone calls and no texts. Dallas’s phone had already been on silent, so no one knew about all of Jess’s texts.

  His heart pounded again, because he didn’t know how this situation ended. He’d been forced to use the bathroom on the side of the house, with Josh watching him from the corner. The truck had multiple problems, and Dallas had fixed three of them already, after a trip to the automotive store.

  “What’s left?” Josh asked as he came up beside Dallas. His shoulder ached, and a steady pain radiated up and down his spine.

  “The radiator.” Dallas didn’t look at the other man. He hadn’t explained much more than Martha owed him some money, and she couldn’t pay it. So Josh was going to get what she owed from Dallas. When Dallas had asked how much she owed, Josh wouldn’t say.

  He’d said he’d ask how much fixing the truck would be worth, and then he’d know if Martha was out of the woods.

  Worry kicked through Dallas again, because he hadn’t heard from Martha in a while. One look at Josh, and it was very easy to imagine her being in very real trouble. He stood a couple of inches taller than Dallas, and while Dallas had worked out in prison, this guy worked out before breakfast, afterward, at lunchtime, and well into the evening. He also had a mean, squinted look about his eyes, and Dallas had known guys like him in River Bay.

  He did not care who he hurt, as long as he got what he wanted.

  Right now, he wanted Dallas to fix Mario’s truck. The other man had gone in Dallas’s house, found something to eat, and put on the TV. A vein of anger pulsed just beneath Dallas’s skin, and he kept it there.

 

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