Cowboy Confessions

by Gail MacMillan

  “Can I see her?” Ross levered himself upright.

  “I think it best there’s as little noise and confusion as possible around her just now,” the vet replied. “Although she’s sedated, she may still sense what’s going on. If she guesses someone she cares about is nearby, it could lead to overstimulation.”

  “Fine, okay. Whatever you think is best, Doc.” He turned to the other woman.

  “Come on, Jess. We’ll be going.”

  “I assume our daughter has seduced our wrangler into letting her ride her pony?” Jake Brooks grinned as they turned to leave.

  “Yeah, they’re down at the round pen.”

  “Minx.” Shelby’s tone was tinged with good nature. “Jake, once you’ve changed out of those scrubs, will you go down and take over? Grady has lots of work to do that doesn’t include leading a pony around a ring with a determined four-year-old on its back.”

  “Sure.” He paused and grinned over at Ross. “I’ve got to tell you, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I watched you perform at rodeos and, for sure, I wasn’t the least bit surprised when you were named world champion.”

  “High praise.” Ross shuffled his feet. “Thanks.”

  “Jake.” Shelby, apparently sensing Ross’s discomfort, jerked her head in the direction of the house. “Grady? Katie Rose?”

  “Right. Better get to it. Nice to meet you folks.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ross pulled into a convenience store and hobbled inside. Shortly he emerged with two Styrofoam cups of coffee. He stopped at the passenger door and offered one in to her.

  “I thought we could both use a drink.” His expression had relaxed, and there was even a hint of a grin at the corners of his lips and eyes.

  “Thanks.” She took the cup and let a bit of a smile flicker up at him.

  He returned to the driver’s seat, leaned forward to start the engine, then fell back with a sigh. His hand dropped from the key in the ignition to his thigh.

  “Look, Jessi, I’m sorry about the trick I pulled on you in Moncton.” He stared out the windshield into the sunlight, avoiding her eyes. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “It was pretty awful,” she said gravely. “A first-class ticket to Calgary.”

  He turned sharply to look at her, but she was staring out the front window, the glare of morning sunshine only half disguising the fact that her lips were twitching upwards at the corners.

  “Yeah, well…” He gave up and started the engine. But as he turned back onto the highway and pulled down the sun visor, he asked, “How did you manage to get back to the farm? You never did explain…exactly.”

  “I swapped that one-way ticket for a one-way drive in a delivery van to Carleton.”

  “Mom said you were resourceful. She just didn’t add extremely. Is that a purely unique trait, or is it inherited?”

  “Runs in the family.”

  “I guess I knew that.”

  “Just drive…into Carleton, please.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to do some shopping.”

  “I already did.”

  “Yes, and I appreciate your efforts even if the motive behind it was part of your plot to get rid of me.” She settled more comfortably into the seat. “But I need some other items.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” She looked over at him, eyes narrowing. “What does that mean?”

  “Well, that would explain why you were so cranked up when you got back to the farm yesterday.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Ross! I don’t need to buy feminine hygiene products! Why does every man on the planet seem determined to attribute a woman’s annoyance with them to time of the month and not simply their own irritating behavior? I’m talking about detergent for that new washer and fabric sheets for the dryer, as well as some other stuff.”

  “Okay, okay, heading for Carleton…not to purchase any female products.”

  ****

  Jessi came out of the supermarket pushing a cart full of plastic bags and began to load them into the back seat of the king cab.

  “Need some help?” Involved in listening to country tunes on the radio, Ross glanced casually over his shoulder.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Okay. Will you just listen to this Jordan Brooks tune? Man, he was the greatest. Wonder whatever became of him?”

  “Probably got laryngitis, gave up, and hermited himself away in a farmhouse somewhere.”

  “Nasty.”

  “Yes, well, if the comparison fits…” She turned away to put the cart into the corral beside the truck.

  ****

  “Lunch.” Jessi came out onto the front veranda of the farmhouse where he’d been watching sunlight dancing off the waves of a beautiful autumn day. He’d been surprised to find he was actually finding some pleasure in the ambience.

  “Okay.” He punched off on his cell phone and turned to see her carrying a tray of food.

  “Calling a friend?”

  “No one I’ve ever met. Emma MacKenzie. I needed to thank her…and her dog…for finding Fox.”

  “That was thoughtful…and necessary.”

  She placed a pair of plates, each bearing thick sandwiches, on the old table’s surface. Then she added two tall glasses of milk and a couple of bananas.

  “Ah, come on!” He glared at the meal. “Monkey food? And that white stuff in the glasses is intended for calves. This is what you were dead set on buying? Feminine hygiene products would have been better than this.”

  “Come on, cowboy.” She took a chair at the table and waved a hand to indicate the place opposite. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Afraid of a little genuine nutrition?”

  “Not of nutrition, but, hell, this looks like a page out of Canada’s food guide.”

  “Oh, stop bellyaching. I could have served you a big bowl of kale.”

  “What’s kale?”

  “Good lord!” She heaved an exasperated groan.

  “Hell of a thing, when a man can’t even pick his own food.” He moved to take the chair and sat down harder than he’d intended. The force made him flinch.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine, fine.” In an effort to divert attention from the incident, he picked up a section of sandwich and took a bite.

  “Not half bad, is it?” She grinned over at him as he chewed.

  “It’s okay,” he muttered. He’d liked clubhouse sandwiches when he was a kid. Now the old taste he’d had for them returned, but he wasn’t about to let her see it.

  “I remember my mom making them for you and Chase that spring you came over to help out with the branding. Janet was staying with us, too, helping out.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. You sound surprised.”

  “You were a kid back then. I thought you and my future sister-in-law were too busy with teenage crushes and hair styles to notice a couple of dusty, dirty cowhands that were too old for you, never mind notice what they ate.”

  “I was young, not unobservant.”

  “Huh.” Hell, she was always besting him. He’d eat the damned sandwich, drink that miserable milk, and even force down that blasted banana.

  I’ll show her I can stomach any forage she can throw my way.

  He refused to acknowledge he was enjoying the lunch.

  “When did you discover the tickets in your purse?” He paused between bites to ask the question that had been nagging at him since she’d returned but which Fox’s accident had put on hold.

  “When I was about to buy a coffee at the hotel.”

  “Aha. That would have presented a problem.”

  “Yes, it did, but it also gave me an opportunity to swap that ticket for a ride to Carleton and even out along the coast road to your lane.”

  “Resourceful.”

  “Yes, I am. And don’t you forget it.”

  Her cell rang, and she answered. “Dad?”

  He continued to eat but couldn’t help overhearing.


  “Yes, I’m fine. Beautiful day here. You should see the beach and bay. Lovely place for a vacation.” She paused to listen, her face crumbling from the delight it had registered on recognition of her father’s voice, her tone changing to one of agitation.

  “I didn’t think he’d have the nerve to show up at the ranch again after that last encounter with you. Dad…Dad, listen to me…Kicking him so far he’d land on his backside in Montana isn’t the answer…No, I certainly don’t want him back, but I don’t want him mutilated, either.” Another pause, then, “Good. I’m glad Mom was on hand to be the voice of reason. I’m sure he won’t bother you again.”

  Again she listened and looked over at Ross, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Dad, I’m fine, Ross is fine. He’s being a perfect gentleman. There’ll be no need for you to polish up your boot to kick his behind… Okay, love you, love to Mom. See you both soon.”

  She ended her call and returned to her meal.

  “What?” She glanced up to catch him looking at her.

  “Nothing, nothing.” He returned his attention to his food. “Just can’t help wondering who it is your father is wanting to either kick into the good ol’ US of A or permanently alter physically.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know who he was talking about.”

  “Not a clue.”

  “It’s Clint Harrison.”

  “Jesus. You weren’t involved with him?” His head lurched up.

  “You sound surprised. No, scratch that. Shocked.”

  “Yeah, well, I had you figured for a nice girl, not one of those buckle bunnies Harrison runs around with.”

  “I wasn’t a buckle bunny!” Her face contorted with outrage. “I was his fiancée.”

  “Oh, God.” In an effort to avoid looking at her, he returned his attention to his sandwich.

  Silence. He took a drink of milk.

  “I’m glad you said ‘was,’ ” he said finally. “Clint Harrison is a certifiable bum where women are concerned.”

  She suppressed a giggle.

  “That’s a change of pace.”

  “It’s difficult to stay annoyed with a man sporting a milk mustache.” She chuckled and handed him a napkin. “Here.”

  “Glad it amused you.” He wiped his mouth. “Losing Harrison doesn’t deserve wasting a minute on regret. You couldn’t have been around the rodeo circuit much or you’d have known his reputation.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I met Clint when he came out to our ranch to buy a horse.” She watched her finger making absentminded circles on the table beside her plate. “He…had a way about him. We dated a few times while he was in the area, and then we called and texted a lot last winter while he was on the southern circuit. This spring he arrived at the ranch in early May with a ring and a proposal. My parents seemed to like him, and he really liked the ranch. He said it was just the kind of place he hoped to settle down on one day. When he went back on the circuit, I was confident he loved me and would be faithful.” She paused to draw a deep breath.

  Ross sat silent, and she continued. “It was a fluke that I ended up at the rodeo where you and he were both performing. I went down there to deliver a horse I’d been training back to its owner. I knew Clint was performing at the show. I planned to surprise him with a visit. After your accident, I forgot about my original idea and rushed out to his trailer to see if he had any news about your condition. I found him half naked and holding an equally half naked woman in his arms.”

  “Damn!” Ross pulled himself up in his chair and threw his napkin onto the table. “Rotten bastard. Still, about what I’d expect from him.” Seeing the hurt in Jessi’s eyes, he softened his tone. “Good part is you found out what he is before you married the bum.”

  “I guess.” She stared down at her half-eaten lunch.

  “Look.” He leaned toward her and struggled to find the right words. “I know it must have hurt like a bash in the head. But trust me, you’ll find a better man. And”—he straightened back on his chair and picked up a triangle of sandwich—“knowing Clint Harrison, it shouldn’t be all that hard.” He let a grin quirk the corner of his mouth. When he glanced over at her, he caught the glimmer of a smile quivering on her lips.

  “Furthermore…” He decided to press his advantage. “I wouldn’t want to be in his boots right now. Jack Wallace was a bulldogger before he retired from the rodeo circuit, wasn’t he?”

  Jessi nodded. “Won a few championships, in fact.”

  “Yeah, I remember. Not a man I’d want to tangle with, even if he is a few years older. If Harrison is stupid enough to show up around your father, he just might find himself making landfall somewhere south of the border.”

  “He already did and narrowly escaped the trip you just described.”

  Their gazes met and both grinned.

  ****

  “Ross?” Jessi came back out onto the veranda after she’d finished cleaning up the lunch dishes to find him lying on the swing.

  “What now?” He looked up at her from beneath half-opened lids. “Is it time for my calisthenics? Or maybe it’s yoga? Either way, the answer is a big fat no.”

  “Back to being the Grinch That Stole September, are we? What would make you think I’d suggest either? Ross, you’ve got to stop suspecting me of constantly trying to do something for your own good.” She grinned. “In case you didn’t get it, that was a joke.”

  “I got it, I got it.” He pulled himself to a sitting position. “Look, I’m sorry as hell about the way Harrison treated you, but I’m not about to let you boss me around or make me do anyone’s bidding but my own to try to compensate for that useless piece of trash.”

  “Fine. I get it. So we’re back to going one on one.”

  “I’d hardly say that, but…”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop trying to play with words. It’s a beautiful afternoon. I think we should take that old boat and go out to explore that island over there.” She indicated the small bit of land about a quarter mile off shore.

  “There’s nothing to explore. It’s a glorified sandbar with a few straggling black spruce and a whole lot of chest-high marsh grass.”

  “Come on.” She slapped the baseball cap she’d been carrying onto her head. “It’ll pass the time. No sense sitting here and brooding about Fox. She’s in good hands.”

  “I’m not brooding about a stray mutt. Okay, okay.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I can see I’ll get no peace if I don’t agree. I’ll change into shorts. I have a feeling we’re going to get more than our feet wet in that old tub.”

  As he went into the house, Jessi let a satisfied smile tip her lips.

  Okay, cowboy, the game is definitely on. Prepare for your first major dose of therapy.

  “I’ll go down the shore and push the boat into the water,” she called after him.

  The reply was a grunt.

  ****

  “Isn’t it lovely out on the water, Ross?” Jessi sat in the back of the old boat and trailed her fingers in the water while he rowed toward the island. “Aren’t you glad we came?”

  “I’d be a lot more glad if you’d stop dragging your hand,” he muttered. “Rowing this old tub is hard enough without your holding it back. And by the way, I didn’t appreciate your putting your arm around me to help me into the boat.”

  “Sorry.” She raised her fingers and smiled at him, trying not to let her gaze drop to his left leg and the massive scar running nearly the full length of it to disappear into the khaki shorts he wore. She’d been startled when he’d arrived at the shore and his clothing for the first time had allowed her to see his wound. When he’d undressed for bed at night she’d turned her back, and in the morning he was up before she awoke. This had been her first major look at the aftermath of his injury, and she’d had to stifle her shock under a quick intake of breath and a bright smile.

  My God, I had no idea it was that bad.

  “Look.” He paused and rested the oars on the gunwales. “There’s no use pretending you don
’t notice the scar, that it doesn’t freak you out. Let’s be honest. It is ugly as sin.”

  “It’s a sports injury.” She wasn’t about to let him get her to admit she was appalled. “Nothing to get riled up about. Lots of cowboys have battle scars. It’s a rough life. Goes with the territory.”

  “Huh.” He took up the oars and heaved toward the island. “That’s quite a philosophy.”

  “It’s only the truth. Oh, look, Ross! A flock of herring gulls overhead. Did you know that, although a lot of people call them sea gulls, there’s no such species, that they’re actually herring gulls? Lots of other types of sea birds are native to this area, too. I read about them on the plane coming out here.”

  “Yeah, well, see how wonderful you think they are when they start dropping all over us.”

  “The Grinch of September!” She leaned back in the boat and fell silent.

  When they reached the island, Jessi helped Ross pull their craft up into the grass.

  “Let’s take a walk to the far side,” she suggested as Ross placed the oars under the seats. “I’ll bet you can see forever, out across the water over there.”

  “Not forever, just Quebec, and only on a clear day. You’re not going to be looking out across the Atlantic. This is Chaleur Bay.”

  “Okay, Quebec will do just fine. In fact, it will be much better than miles and miles of blank ocean. Come on.” She started off through the grass. When she heard no sound to indicate he was following her, she turned back. “Ross, move it.” Her tone sharpened.

  “Damn it, you sound like a drill sergeant.” His response was a mutter as he took up his cane and began to stump after her.

  She grinned as expletives marked his following her through the ragged marsh grass.

  “Oh, darn!”

  “What now?” Annoyance colored the word.

  “I forgot my sunglasses in the boat. I’ll have to go back for them. You keep going. I’ll catch up.”

  “Sure, sure.” He pushed past her. “I won’t get far ahead, right?”

  For a moment she watched him go, then shrugged and headed back to the boat.

  So far, so good. He hasn’t checked for his cell. I’m amazed I was able to sneak it out of his pocket so easily when I pretended to help him into the boat.