The Cowboy's Housekeeper

by Lori Copeland

  The night flew by with laughter and high spirits sweeping through the crowd. Toward the end of the evening, couples trailed off two-by-two, disappearing into the privacy of the darkened farm. Though Rick had been at his most charming all evening, Jessica felt absolutely zero attraction to him. He tried to beguile her with his lures, but in the end, she politely and firmly let him know she had no interest in his lighthearted foolishness.

  All night long, everywhere she looked, Jason hovered nearby. If she seemed to be enjoying herself in Rick’s company, his deep scowl dampened her enthusiasm. Once Rick tickled her fancy with an amusing comment, and she let loose with a peal of laughter. Jason stopped his conversation with the driver of the hay wagon to jerk his head around and shoot her an irritated glance.

  The huge barbecue, the horseshoe tournament, and sack race could have been loads of fun without his glowering presence. The rolling pin contest, in which the contestant who threw a rolling pin the farthest—indicating bad news for the boyfriend or spouse—won the prize, might have been the night’s highlight. A red-faced Marcy Mercy took the trophy home while a grinning Willis, his hands jammed in his jean pockets, quietly beamed on the sidelines.

  It was very late when everyone piled back on the wagon for the return trip home. Silence fell on the partiers as the moon crept higher in the sky. Couples found intimacy by wrapping in each other’s arms. A man with a beautiful voice perched on a bale of hay and sang the sweet strains of “Moonlight Bay.”

  Rick tried to pull Jessica into his arms, but when she stiffened, maintained a respectful distance. She didn’t want to encourage anything romantic with him, no matter how hard she teased Jason about him. He was a friendly, happy person to be with, but like all his predecessors, he left her feeling empty.

  There was only one person she loved.

  She shifted around on the hay, turning over to lie on her side more comfortably. Her breath froze as her gaze locked with Jason’s. He was beside them on the hay, sitting close to Monica, who snuggled contentedly against his shoulder.

  Electrical currents surged through her body as she began to slowly drown in the liquid fire of his beautiful jade eyes. Though she lay in another man’s embrace, her breath became shallow, and she fought an overwhelming urge to reach out and grab Jason’s hand.

  Like a bolt of lightning, a thought occurred to her. She had reached her breaking point. No amount of money on earth could make her stay on here, dying a little more each day. Without the hope of a life with Jason, what was the use of staying?

  The moment dawned with crystal clarity. She knew what she had to do.

  Tears blurred her vision like a soft summer rain. Who cared about the children’s clothing line Fancy Duds wanted to launch? She would, as she first intended, give Fred and Rainey’s entire inheritance to the church. Rainey was a woman. She would understand that unresolved love demanded too high a price. Either she and Barb would find another funding source for the new children’s line, or they would give up that dream. She couldn’t do this anymore. Her only alternative was to give up the inheritance, go back to Austin, and try once more to fit the shambles of her life back together.

  Completely unaware of the decision she’d just reached, Jason’s emerald eyes drew her toward him. But he lay in another’s embrace, as did she. This one last night she could allow herself to drown in his eyes, but it was all a sham. He would never belong to her again. She now belonged to Fancy Duds, and Austin, and the life she had ignored for the past several months.

  Long after midnight, the hay wagon deposited the weary couples in the farmyard between Justin’s house and the barn. Jessica climbed down, emotionally exhausted, longing only to reach the privacy of her room where she could cry her heart out alone.

  Rick insisted on walking her to the door. As though he sensed the change in her mood, he pulled her into the comfort of his arms and gave her a reassuring hug. “I don’t know what the problem is, pretty lady, but I pray things will look different in the morning.”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “I doubt it.”

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  His tone held nothing but understanding, acceptance, and comfort. Guilt shafted through her. She well knew he wanted more from her, but her heart belonged to another.

  “No, thank you, Rick. It’s something I have to work out alone.”

  He held her gaze in his. “Anytime you need someone, Jessica, I’ll be here.”

  Oh, how she wished she could fall in love with him. If only she could take a surgical knife and cut all the painful memories and the love she had for Jason out of her heart.

  Instead, she gave Rick a sisterly peck on the cheek and told him good night at the door.

  Jessica sat wearily in her bedroom, fighting to make her mind a total blank, trying to erase the memories of the night. She brushed the loose hay out of her hair and took a quick shower—totally hot—before slipping into her nightgown. Her mind determined to imprison her as her thoughts once again drifted back to Jason’s eyes. They’d held hers captive tonight. Her gaze fell on the pieces of hay scattered on her dressing table, and the dam of self-control finally broke. She switched off the light and fell across the bed, burying her face in the pillow and allowed the hateful tears to overcome her once more.

  A loud bang as the door to her bedroom was thrown violently open brought her abruptly to her feet, the hot tears still streaming down her face. Jason stood in the doorway, still dressed in his hayride garb, his large frame blocking the light from the hall. He stood perfectly still, his eyes pits of deepest black.

  “Are you in love with Rick?” The question sounded more like a demand.

  Taken aback, Jessica couldn’t think of an answer. Steel shot through her backbone, and she asked, “Why does it matter to you?”

  “Why?” The shadow of his frame seemed to grow. “Because you’re driving me out of my mind!”

  Heart pounding, Jessica remained silent. Neither moved. Finally, when the sounds of the night blared loud, Jason spoke. “Do you know what you put me through out there tonight on that hay wagon?”

  The torture in his eyes, barely visible in the dim light, caused dual emotions to leap to the fore in Jessica. She closed her eyes, not daring to hope for the better of the two. “I didn’t mean to. You’re the one who started it.”

  “I…can’t stand to sit there and watch you in some other man’s arms.”

  A deep sigh escaped her lips. With an honesty that frightened her, she confessed, “I imagined I was in your arms.”

  “But you weren’t, Angel.” His whisper held a touch of torture. “How did we get ourselves in this mess?”

  So many emotions warred in her, Jessica was afraid to answer. Given a word of encouragement, she would launch herself across the room and into his arms. But how could she even consider that? It was wrong, on so many levels.

  Now is the time. I have to tell him.

  “Jason,” she whispered quietly.

  He didn’t answer, but his back stiffened slightly as he waited for her to go on.

  “I’m going home—back to Austin—in the morning.”

  Emotions warred on his face. “Why?”

  She closed her eyes, willing herself to deceive him. “My business needs me for a couple of important meetings this week. Plus, I need to check on my apartment. There are so many things I’ve been putting off.”

  And I need to get away from you, her heart cried.

  Jason closed his eyes again, weariness etched deeply in his tanned face. “That shouldn’t take very long, should it?”

  “I haven’t decided how long; we’re about to wind up most of the business matters, aren’t we? The only thing left is the house, and it should sell soon.” The admission stung like fire. The old house was falling apart but she had reservations about selling the place. Those would be set to rest once she stepped inside and saw the condition the bunk hands left once they moved out.

  He shifted on his feet, his expression unreadable in the d
arkness. “There’s still matters that need your attention.”

  “Couldn’t I take care of those by fax or some other method? I’ve ran Fancy Duds for over five months in the same manner.”

  His gaze locked with hers. “I’m asking. Don’t stay any longer than necessary, okay?”

  Sorrow washed over her. How could she leave? Her mind grasped onto a thought. “Will you take good care of Tabacina and her kittens?”

  “Sure. “He frowned. “You mean feed and water her. What do you mean, kittens? Is she….?”

  Jessica looked away, focusing on her dressing table. “Didn’t I mention that she was expecting?”

  “No. When?”

  She shrugged. “That’s hard to say, since I don’t keep up with her love life.”

  “I liked her better as a boy.”

  “Jason.” She thumbed her smeared mascara.

  A long silence passed before he finally answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her” His breath sounded loud in the darkened room. “Just give me your word that you’ll come back.”

  She closed her eyes, knowing that she was saying good-bye one final time. “Tabacina only eats a certain type of cat food. I’ll write the name on the kitchen note pad.”

  When the door closed, she lay back on the bed and let the tears flow unimpeded. Tomorrow she would book a flight, and for good, whether Jason knew it or not. She wouldn’t return from Austin. Fancy Duds could easily afford the thirty thousand dollars she owed Jason for running the farm, even if it meant delaying the new line. Who cared about an inheritance? Her business was strong, even without the new venture into children’s clothing.

  Of course, she couldn’t say the same about her heart. She’d never felt more vulnerable. But life would go on whether she wanted it to or not, and at the moment she didn’t care.

  Seventeen

  The large jet set its cumbersome body down, light as a feather, as it landed on the runway of the Austin-Bergstrom International Airport that early evening in October. Jessica had been delivered back to the place she’d claimed as her home for the last eight years.

  The plane rolled to a stop and once the seatbelt light went out she began gathering her things. In the terminal, she fought her way over to claim her baggage. She never ceased to be amazed by the way people’s manners deserted them in a hurried situation like this, but she had learned to be as aggressive as the next person. If you had to live in the jungle, you needed to be able to hold your own with the animals.

  Her luggage in her possession, she stepped out into the still, warm evening and hailed a cab. Giving the driver the address, she climbed in and leaned back in the seat as the taxi pulled away from the terminal.

  The capital of Texas was a lovely old city, hosting schools for the deaf and blind, the University of Texas—which Jessica had attended for four years—as well as the LBJ ranch just fifty miles to the west. The taxi passed the campus where she had spent long hours sitting in the large LBJ Library, cramming for tests with Barb and Ginny Lou, her closest friends throughout her college years. Ginny Lou had gone on to become an elementary school teacher, while Barb and Jessica launched Fancy Duds.

  A smile curved her lips as she thought of all the good times they had had together—those late-night gab sessions in Jessica’s room—Barb either in the clouds from her latest love or in the depths of dark despair from the lack of one. They consumed large quantities of Coke and potato chips, sitting in the middle of Jessica’s bed, agonizing over Ginny Lou’s unquestionable fate of forever being a bridesmaid but never a bride. At times Ginny Lou grew so desperate about the prospect of becoming an old maid she would wave the potato chip sack wildly over the bed before Jessica’s distressed eyes. By the time the pair left for their own rooms, Jessica would have to drag out the little Dustbuster she kept in her closet and vacuum out her bed before going to sleep that night.

  Nestled in the back seat of the taxi, Jessica indulged in an open laugh as she thought of her friend, now happily married and expecting a child any day.

  The taxi pulled into the drive of Mrs. Houseman’s house, a homey little bungalow with its flowers and shrubbery looking very peaceful in the gathering twilight. She’d often thought of buying a home of her own, or moving into an upscale apartment. She could certainly afford to. But somehow, she couldn’t force herself to leave this place and its motherly owner. Jessica paid her cab fare, adding a generous tip as the driver removed her luggage from the trunk and set the suitcases on the drive. Jessica picked them up and walked around to the back of her landlady’s house and rang the bell. Mrs. Houseman threw open the door. Upon catching sight of Jessica, she enveloped her in a maternal hug.

  “I am so glad you’re home. Things have not been the same around here,” she complained. “I’d look up at your apartment every night, and there would be no lights on, and I’d have such a lonely feeling.” She exhaled a wistful sigh “I’ve missed you something fierce. Why, I didn’t have a soul to tell all my problems to.”

  Jessica hugged her affectionately. “There are a lot of people who would be more than happy to spend time talking with you.” She dropped into a teasing tone. “How’s Mr. Hawks?”

  “Oh, my, Mr. Hawks, that old degenerate!” Mrs. Houseman became quite flustered. “Now, why in the world would I want him around underfoot?”

  Jessica grinned mischievously. “I don’t think he’d mind keeping you company in the evenings. Does he still just ‘happen by’ almost every night, anyway?”

  “Oh, flitter, I can’t seem to step out my back door that he doesn’t show up, looking for a piece of that lemon cake he’s always been so fond of.” Smile lines wreathed her face.

  “Well,” Jessica replied tactfully, “it’s a good thing you find time to bake a fresh one a couple of times a week, or he’d be up that proverbial creek without a paddle, wouldn’t he?”

  A pretty glow colored Mrs. Houseman’s cheeks. “Let’s just forget about Mr. Hawks for now.” She hastened to change the subject. “Come on, I’ll fix us a glass of fresh lemonade. I know you must be tired from your flight.”

  They stepped into the house. The large kitchen still held the smells of the fried chicken Mrs. Houseman had fixed for her dinner that evening. A covered plate sat on the table, still containing pieces of the golden-brown, crispy meat.

  “If you’re hungry, I’ll fix you a plate. I know how you’ve always loved my chicken.” She smiled proudly. “Just sit down and help yourself.”

  How could she resist the temptation? She reached for a fat drumstick, bit into the tender meat, and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. “This is fantastic. I don’t know how you do it. I’ve tried fixing it just as you told me, and it doesn’t taste nearly this good.”

  “Oh, it’s just always a treat to eat someone else’s cooking, dear, that’s the only difference.” She beamed, setting a plate with a blue willow design down in front of Jessica as she pushed a bowl of fresh green beans from her summer garden toward her. From the refrigerator, she retrieved a plate and uncovered a layer of Saran Wrap to reveal thick slices of juicy red tomatoes. “The tomatoes didn’t do so well this year.”. She put a slice on Jessica’s plate. “The garden just dried up from lack of rain. I tried to water it, but it made my water bill run too high.”

  “I know,” Jessica sympathized, munching on her chicken. “It was dry everywhere this year.”

  She ate the remainder of her dinner, engaging in pleasant small talk, with Mrs. Houseman hovering over her, offering her more than she could possibly eat.

  When she’d didn’t have room for one more bite, Jessica pushed back from the table, took her plate over to the sink and rinsed it. All her plants lay lovingly arranged on a table in front of one of the kitchen windows. Mrs. Houseman had been caring for them during her absence, and they all had such a green, healthy appearance—her tiny baby’s tears was thick and full in its pot and the bridal veil bloomed in gay profusion. The large yellow “pocketbook” plant, as Jessica had always called it, had blo
ssomed in glorious bright colors, its fat little “pocketbooks,” speckled with red, hanging lightly on the stems. They glowed with the love Mrs. Houseman had given them.

  “Mrs. Houseman,” Jessica said suddenly, “would you mind keeping these plants permanently? I’m afraid if I move them now, they’ll not do as well. I can always get new starts.”

  Mrs. Houseman’s face lit up in a bright smile. “Why, I would love to keep them, if you’re sure. I’ve become quite fond of them. They’re almost like my children.” She grinned sheepishly. “That philodendron and I have a long conversation over breakfast every morning.”

  Jessica smiled tenderly. “I couldn’t think of a nicer home for them to ‘grow up’ in. Please take them with my blessings.”

  Mrs. Houseman crossed over to the plants and beamed down at them. “Well, now, see what I told you, children. Everything always has a way of working out for the best.”

  Jessica let herself into her dark apartment, reaching for the light switch as she set her bag inside the door. The three-room apartment came to life as the glow from the lamp flooded the small area. She crossed over to open the window, letting the fresh air in the stuffy room, and continued into her bedroom, where she turned on the bedside lamp and sank onto the bed. As she lay on her back looking up at the white ceiling and thinking of Jason, a deep sense of loneliness crept over her. He was nearly seven hundred miles away from her now. She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of his arms the night of the storm, and bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. That was a new, and unwelcome change in her. Until she had returned home for Aunt Rainey’s funeral, she had never been one to burst into tears at the drop of a hat. She was a corporate executive, the one in control. But for the last few months it seemed all she had done was cry. How could a girl love someone so much and be so miserable?