As the meaning of his request became clear, she came fully awake. “You want me to live in this house with six strange men?”
Jason laughed. “That would sure give the folks in town a reason to wag their tongues. No, you’ll be coming over to live at my house. Next, how much working capital do you have on hand? There’s some fence down in several areas—”
“Wait a minute.” Jessica shook her head with a jerk, trying to grasp everything. “Let’s back up to the part where I live at your house.”
A bland expression overtook his features. “What about it?”
“Humor me, please, and elaborate on that just a hair more.” She smiled with saccharine sweetness.
“Certainly. My housekeeper’s sister had major surgery and will need constant care for a while. Mrs. Perkins left last week and won’t be back for several months at least.” He stood, and crossed the floor to the coffeepot. “Now, if I have to run two farms, I won’t have time to find a new housekeeper. So, in essence, Jessica, if I’m going to do you a favor, you’ll do one for me in return.”
“But, I’m paying you to run this farm.” She didn’t bother to filter the heat from her tone.
He shrugged. “All right. I’ll pay you to run my house.”
Jessica ran fingers through her sleep-tangled hair. What a mess. She understood his reasoning, but she didn’t like it, not one bit. How could Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey have done this to her?
“I don’t like it.” She got up to pour herself a cup of coffee, since Jason had filled only his own.
“Take it or leave it.” Jason sipped from his mug.
“Would you still run the farm if I refused?” she asked hopefully.
“No.”
She glanced around the room, desperate to come up with an argument. Her gaze fell on the cat’s food bowl. “Who will feed the cat?”
“I’m sure the men are capable of taking care of a cat.”
“Talk about wagging tongues.” She blew steam from the surface of her coffee and took a cautious sip. “If I agree to this they’ll have a field day, given our, uh, history.”
His lips twisted into the lopsided grin she used to love. “When have you ever cared about what the gossips say?”
She plucked an errant curl out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. What a predicament. Here she was, co-owner of a successful clothing company, about to become the maid for her ex-husband. But what choice did she have?
“I assume you have high-speed Internet,” she said. “I’ll still need to work. My company can’t run itself. And I might have to fly to Austin for meetings every so often.”
That might dissuade him. To her disappointment, he nodded. “That’s understandable.”
Just then the cat sauntered into the room and began twining himself around her legs. “Can I bring Tabby with me?”
Jason sighed. “If you insist.”
Jessica slumped dejectedly back down into her chair. “I guess I’ll do it.”
“I thought you’d see things my way.” Jason also returned to the table. “Get your things packed today, and I’ll pick you up later this afternoon and take you over to the house.”
She gasped. “So soon? Can’t we wait a few days?”
“I have a business to run too,” he told her sternly. “As soon as these living arrangements are settled, I can get on with my work.”
Lifting the mug to her lips, she studied him over the rim. This was certainly a different Jason than had stormed out of here last night.
“I thought you didn’t want me around, or to be involved with me in any way.”
“I don’t. But as you pointed out, we are reasonable adults, and this is too good a proposition to pass up. Thirty thousand dollars is a lot of ‘mad money,’ Angel.”
That old nickname again. Disappointment stabbed at her. Nickname or not, his answer wasn’t exactly flattering. Well, what had she expected? She had known all along if he agreed, it would be for the money.
He set his mug down and rested both arms on the table. Leaning toward her, he caught and held her gaze. “Let’s get one thing clear right up front. This is a business arrangement only. Nothing personal.”
Fire assaulted her cheeks. “Of course not.”
“I mean it,” he continued, his eyes still locked with hers. “Don’t misunderstand the reason for these living arrangements. You’ll be my housekeeper—nothing else.”
What did he think, that she’d jump at the chance to resume their long-dead relationship? She lifted her nose high in the air. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she assured him.
“Fine. Just so we understand each other.” His chair scraped across the linoleum as he stood and then took his coffee mug to the sink. “Will you be ready by five o’clock?”
She glanced around the room. There wasn’t much to pack, really. This hadn’t been her home for a long time. She nodded.
“Fine.” He picked up his Stetson and placed it firmly on his head. “I’ll see you then.”
Without waiting for a reply, he strode from the room.
“I know it’s a long time, Barb.” Jessica cocked her head sideways and held her cell phone to her ear with a shoulder. “Trust me, I don’t like this any more than you do.”
She dumped the laundry basket onto the bed and picked up a blouse, still warm from the dryer.
“Are you sure there’s not a loophole?” Her partner and co-owner of Fancy Duds came as close to a whine as she’d ever heard. “Maybe our attorney could take a look at that will and come up with something.”
“I tried already,” Jessica said. “I faxed him a copy yesterday.”
“Nothing, huh?”
Jessica laid the folded blouse in her suitcase. “Judge Baker might be a small-town lawyer, but he’s sharp as a tack. The will is iron-clad.” She poured confidence into her voice. “You can handle anything that comes up. After all, you run half the company already.”
“The boring half,” Barb said bitterly. “What if we have a design problem, or something goes wrong in operations or marketing? I’ll be lost.”
Barb had always been the financial brain of their partnership. Anything that had to do with numbers or computer systems fell under her area of control, and she kept those departments humming along. Jessica’s talents lay in the opposite direction. Their clothing designs were all hers, and she loved all aspects of marketing and advertising.
“It’s not like I’m moving to the wilds of Africa,” Jessica said. “I’m as close as a phone call or an email. Just consider me a remote employee for a limited period of time.”
A sigh blasted through the phone. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
The last piece of laundry folded and placed in her suitcase, Jessica flopped onto the bed. “Trust me, if there were any other way, I’d be all over it. There isn’t. On the other hand, when this ordeal is over we’ll have the money we need for the children’s clothing line.”
“That’s the silver lining,” Barb admitted.
“You bet it is.” Jessica glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Listen, I’ve got to run. Celeste has my temporary address. I’m not sure if there’s a fax machine, but if not I’ll have one installed in the next few days.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure? Aren’t you at your aunt and uncle’s house?”
Jessica set her teeth. She didn’t want to tell anyone, even her best friend and business partner, about her arrangement with Jason. It was too…humiliating.
“It’s a long story.” She prayed that Barb would let the matter drop.
She did.
“All right, girlfriend. You take it easy, and watch your step.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’re on a cattle farm, right? Just be careful not to step into anything icky.”
Little did Barb know, but Jessica was hog wallowing in “icky”.
Laughing, Jessica ended the call. She sat a minute longer, staring at the cell phone. Her laughter died when she realized Barb’s w
arning had come too late. She was about to become her ex-husband’s housekeeper. Was there anything ickier than that?
Seven
Jessica was packed and ready when one of Jason’s men dropped him by the farm late that afternoon. After a quick glance at her packed bags Jason advised her, “We’ll have to take your truck.” Jessica shrugged her shoulders, unconcerned, and reached down for her cosmetic bag.
As they started down the porch steps Jason held out his hand. Jessica looked at it in bewilderment. “What do you want?”
“The keys to the truck.” His voice was firm.
“Why? I can drive.”
“Bet me,” Jason said sarcastically.
She breathed out with a huff and flung the keys to him. Brother. He would never let her live those car wrecks down.
They drove back to his house in strained silence. Jessica’s ride on the passenger side of the old truck was as nerve-racking as the rest of the cantankerous old relic. Her seat was loose at the bottom, so it swayed and made a popping noise every time Jason stopped for a stop sign or started up after one. A couple times she had to grab for something solid to keep from sliding out of the seat onto the floor.
And what was with all the stops, anyway? She could never recall having to stop so often. Jason seemed to be determined to make as many as possible. She caught him once watching her from the corner of his eye, not bothering to conceal a devilish twinkle.
At last they turned into the winding drive leading to his farmhouse. Sycamore trees towered over them from both sides, creating a shady canopy over the road. They traveled on for another mile or so before coming to the house itself—a lovely, homey, one-story brick home nestled in a stand of majestic old oak trees. The carpet of early-summer grass sparkled emerald green, and a riot of flowers bloomed around the yard. A large red barn with a tractor and several pieces of farm machinery sat just to the right of the house, with several gleaming white outbuildings in the distance. The white fences surrounding the farm all looked newly painted and well-tended.
Jason stopped the old truck and turned off the key. “I thought you said you were having trouble with the gas pedal sticking on this?”
“It does.” She practically took his head off, but she had noticed, too, that the traitorous thing had purred along like a Cadillac with Jason at the wheel.
He cocked his head skeptically. “Remind me to take a look at it before you drive it again. I’d hate to turn you loose on the townspeople before it’s fixed.”
Jessica slid to the ground on her side of the truck and slammed the door. “How many times do I have to say, I’m sorry?” She planted a hand on her hip and delivered a snarky barb. “What do you want—blood?”
He laughed. “You’ve lost your sense of humor over the years.”
Jessica refused even to dignify the statement with an answer. Instead, she fell in step beside him toward a wide screened-in porch off the back entrance to the house. A golden retriever bounded toward them, made a friendly lunge at Jessica and nearly knocked her off her feet.
“Get down, Alfie,” Jason scolded. “You better show some manners. This ill-tempered lady is going to be the new hand that feeds your face.”
The dog ignored him and continued to lick Jessica’s hands, his tail wagging so hard it was nearly throwing him off balance.
Jessica was returning pat for lick. “Don’t believe a word this nasty man tells you, Alfie. I’ll feed you, manners or not.” Looking at Jason, she added sweetly, “After all, I’ll have to feed your master, and he doesn’t have any.”
Apparently satisfied he still had a meal ticket, Alfie gave one last wag and loped back toward the barn.
Jessica picked up her cosmetic bag again and continued toward the house. A shrill whistle reached them. Turning, she located the source down by the barn. A nice-looking man, around her own age, waved a hand and began to stride swiftly toward them from the barnyard.
“Hey, Jason, wait up!”
“What is it, Rick?” Jason paused beside Jessica, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Eyeing Jessica appreciatively, Rick approached the couple. “Who’s the pretty lady, boss?”
“Jessica Cole, meet Rick Warner. Jessica is my…new housekeeper.”
“Housekeeper? Dang, what agency did you get her from? I’m going to give them a call. I think the bunk house needs a housekeeper.” Rick grinned broadly.
Uncomfortable to be the object of Rick’s appraising stare, Jessica managed a hesitant smile, but shifted slightly closer to Jason.
“Cool it, Rick.” Jason’s eyes flashed a silent warning. “Did you want something?”
“Yow. The garage called and said it would be a couple of weeks on your car and truck.” He cocked his head. “How did you manage to tear both of them up all in the same day?”
A blush threatened as Jessica caught Jason’s eye. Please don’t tell him!
“Just lucky, I guess,” he answered flippantly, and then turned toward the door.
“See you around, pretty lady.” Rick tipped his hat, his tone optimistic.
“Glad to have met you,” Jessica told him politely.
“Don’t be taking up the men’s time with a lot of idle chatter.” Jason gave her a warning glare as they entered the house.
“Oh, I won’t, Master. If you’ll just throw some stale bread and water in the door occasionally, I promise no one will ever know I’m around.” She stepped around him into the kitchen.
It had been many years since she had been in this room, but everything was still as she remembered. The rest of the house was much smaller, in general, than Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey’s, but Jessica had always loved this kitchen more than any other room in the whole house. It had a cozy, warm feeling with windows across one whole wall on the south, letting in all the light and sunshine anyone could desire. The round glass kitchen table sat in front of the windows, with a large sliding glass door leading out to a covered patio. Cheery Cape Cod curtains hung at the windows, blending with the stainless-steel dishwasher, stove, and refrigerator. A long island bar ran almost the length of the kitchen, the marble counter tops and farmer’s sink providing enough space for any woman to “create” to her heart’s content.
They passed through the kitchen into the living room, and Jessica’s heart fell as she saw the drab color scheme in here. She had always liked lots of color in her decorating, and although the furniture was of good quality, the tones were all drab browns and greens. Plain—that was the word she would use to describe it—just downright plain.
Jason noticed the change of expression on her face. “Mom always loved her kitchen best, so she never spent much time on the rest of the house.”
Was that a touch of defensiveness in his tone?
He had been born and raised in this house with his brothers, Eric and Randall, and had stayed on here when his parents passed away several years ago. Eric had married and was living in Dallas with his wife and their small child, and Randall was working in the oil fields in Texas, never having married. That much Jason had told her on the way over, but little else. Trying to get anything personal out of him was like trying to pull hen’s teeth. He didn’t waste time on idle chitchat.
Jessica’s gaze ran over the massive red brick fireplace that covered one whole wall on the north side, while wide, airy windows like those in the kitchen stretched across the south wall. The rays of the late-evening sun poured through them, falling on a monstrous plant that looked out of place sitting in the room. What was this, a jungle? The poor, sick plant appeared to have been through the ravages of war. The few leaves remaining on its limbs were limp and turning yellow. Just her gaze resting on it made it give up another leaf to the floor. And what was that peculiar odor? A step in that direction confirmed that the unpleasant smell came from the plant.
Jessica approached it hesitantly. Peering into its large clay pot, she saw a huge glob of coffee grounds lying on the soil.
“What’s this?” she asked Jason suspiciously.
“My plant.” He walked over to peer into the clay pot with her, deep concern written on his face. “It doesn’t seem to be doing very well.”
That had to be the understatement of the year.
“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.” He planted one hand on his slender hips and gestured toward the pathetic plant with the other. “I’ve tried everything people have suggested, but I can’t seem to get it back on its feet.”
She scrunched her nose. “What is that rotten, nauseous smell?”
“Oh, that? It’s fish emulsion.”
“Fish emulsion? What is that?”
“It’s plant food. The girl at Wal-Mart said it was a good one.” He gave a sniff, and then winced. “To be honest, the smell gets pretty rank in the heat of the day.”
Jessica couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled out. “Maybe you should take it out on the patio and let the sun absorb the smell on the days you feed it the plant food.”
Judging by the look that came over his face, you would have thought she had suggested they take a gun and shoot Alfie.
“Move that plant?” Troubled green eyes widened. “Why, there wouldn’t be a leaf left on it.”
“You certainly have a point there,” she conceded.
“Believe it or not,” he said, a bit defensively, “it’s looking better than it did.”
He started down the wide green-carpeted hall, calling over his shoulder, “This will be your bedroom.”
Throwing open the first door on the left, he stepped back and waited for her to enter. She sidled by, careful not to touch him, and entered a room roughly the size of her walk-in closet back in Austin.
“This is my bedroom?” She whirled to face him, astonished.
He shrugged. “This is the housekeeper’s quarters.”
“But—but—” She turned in a circle to eye the spartan furnishings. A single bed with no headboard or footboard took up most of the space. A tiny nightstand had been wedged between the bed and the side wall. Eighteen inches from the bottom of the mattress stood a closet with a curtain hung in place of a door. She pulled back the curtain to peek inside, and found the chest of drawers.
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