Cowboy Confessions

by Gail MacMillan

  A sense of satisfaction washed over Jessi. Ross was squirming…invisibly, but nevertheless squirming. A smug sense of satisfaction settled over her.

  “Now, there you’re wrong, sweetie.” Catherine Holt swung back to him. “Thank you for the invitation, Jessi. I’ve already booked a dinner reservation for Ross and me at what I’ve been told is your little town’s best restaurant, but it will only take a second to cancel it.”

  “Cat, I don’t think…” Ross glanced at Jessi.

  “Wonderful.” Jessi fought to make her words sound carefree and welcoming.

  “Come on, baby.” Cat slid an arm around Ross’s shoulder, and Jessi felt a perverse sense of satisfaction as he flinched. She won’t be getting much lovemaking out of that banged-up cowboy tonight.

  But remember, a nagging little voice reminded her, he’s been celibate a very long time, and that woman is sex on the hoof. And he is a rodeo cowboy.

  “Yeah, well…” He took one more backward glance at Jessi.

  “Come on, sweetie.” Cat had taken his hand and was drawing him toward the house. “Let’s see what you can scare up in the way of a before-dinner drink. As I recall, you used to make a wild mix of whisky and…what was it?”

  “Yeah, well, we don’t have much of a bar here. You might have to settle for a cold beer.”

  “Fortunately, I came equipped.” She released him and trotted back to her vehicle. She reached inside and pulled out a bag with a liquor store logo.

  “Ta-da!” She held it up. “Twelve-year-old Scotch and a choice bottle of dinner wine.” Returning to Ross’s side, she drew him past Jessi, murmuring just loud enough for her to overhear, “Remember what happened the last time we drank dozen-year-old stuff, cowboy?”

  Ross shot Jessi a furtive glance before they went into the house together.

  “Argh!” It was Jessi’s turn to snarl…silently.

  ****

  “I must say, Jess, I didn’t expect anything nearly as tasty as this.” Catherine laid aside her napkin and picked up her wine glass to twirl the red liquid inside. She raised her drink. “My compliments to the chef.”

  “Hardly anything exotic.” Jessi stood and began to remove the dishes. “Just lasagna from the freezer, and a Caesar salad. Maybe it was the wine that made it more palatable. I’m nowhere near a connoisseur, but I’m guessing it’s an excellent vintage.”

  “Nothing’s too good for my baby.” She smirked over at Ross.

  Shut up, Cat. Just shut up with the “baby” stuff. Ross wet his lips and wondered how long it would be before his deodorant gave out. Although both women were behaving civilly, he could feel animosity bubbling just below the surface. And yet, why on Jess’s part? She’d made it clear she wasn’t about to get involved with him, had vehemently denied having any designs either on him or his future.

  “Dessert?” Jessi had stacked the dinner plates and stood with them in her hands. “I have blueberry pie fresh from the Carleton Bakery.”

  “No, thanks, sweetie.” Catherine finished her wine and stood. “Some of us take care of our figures. Come on, Ross. Let’s head into this little town to see what night life it has to offer. I’d ask you to come along, Jess, but I’m sure you have a sick horse somewhere that needs tending. Never fear, I’ll take good care of this stallion.”

  “Cat, I don’t think…” Ross got to his feet, trying not to flinch as pain darted through his shoulder.

  “I won’t be asking you to think, baby.” She pulled on his hand. “If we can’t find any night life, we’ll retire to my room with the whisky. I know how well you can perform after a few shots, no thinking required.”

  “Go ahead.” Jessi was looking at him with green eyes as cold as emeralds encased in ice as Cat’s persistence dragged him to his feet. “I wouldn’t want either of you to miss out on that kind of fun evening.”

  “You’re a sport, Jess.” Catherine smirked.

  As Cat linked her arm into his and urged him toward the door, an image of a stallion being led out to cover a mare slashed across his mind. Bloody hell, he was better than that.

  “Go on out, Cat.” He wrenched free with a force that made him grit his teeth, but he had to talk to Jess…alone. “I need to…freshen up.”

  God, where did that girly excuse come from?

  “Fine, but if you’re heading back to your room to pick up protection, don’t worry, I came prepared.” She sauntered out, hips swaying. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, baby.”

  “Jess.” He turned to her after the door had closed behind Cat. “You have to understand…she and I have a history…but it’s just that…history.”

  “No need to explain.” She turned her back, rigidly straight, to him, and crossed her arms. “No doubt some recreational sex will do you good.”

  “Recreational…? Jesus, Jess, is that what you think of me?”

  “You’re a rodeo cowboy, aren’t you?” She swung on him. “You’re all about as faithful as tomcats, I’ve learned from past experience. So go. Get drunk on expensive whisky and have an all-night party with Cat, baby… I couldn’t care less!” She turned and strode down the hallway to the front of the house. Fox, after giving him a baleful glance, followed.

  Aw, hell, now even my dog hates me.

  He headed for the door. Maybe a night with Cat and a bottle of Scotch was just what he needed.

  Thunder rumbled as he crossed the verandah and headed down the steps.

  Another damned storm is rolling in. Perfect!

  ****

  Ross sat in the suite Cat had rented at the hotel in Carleton and nursed the drink she’d mixed for him.

  God, what was in this stuff? A couple of sips and I can feel it. He set it aside.

  He rolled his shoulders and grimaced. His right one hurt like hell. Attempting to ride Midnight Black had been a damned fool thing to do, but he’d had to try to prove himself.

  But he hadn’t, had he? He looked around the fancy suite and wondered if this wasn’t what he was trying to do again…prove he was man enough to go back to his former lifestyle in all its components, including this kind of careless sex. What if he failed here, too? He’d felt no overwhelming sexual desire for Cat…not like he once might have…not like he’d felt for Jessi when he’d kissed her. No, definitely not like he’d felt for Jessi…

  He stood and picked up his Stetson just as Cat came out of the bedroom wearing a bit of black lace that left little to the imagination, a glass half full of whisky in one hand.

  “Ready, cowboy?” She struck a seductive pose.

  “Sorry, Cat, this isn’t going to be any good for me.” He slapped his hat on his head. “It’s not you…”

  “Oh, good God! Don’t even say, ‘It’s me.’ I couldn’t bear that crummy old line.”

  “Well, then I won’t.”

  He headed for the door, but she rushed to get between him and it. With her back to it, she faced him.

  “If you really meant what you said…that bit about it not being me but you…does that mean you’re not ‘up’ to it anymore, that the accident did damage that doesn’t meet the eye?”

  “Let’s just say the accident changed me.” He moved her gently aside. “You can tell Simon Shoeman whatever you like, if it will save your dignity.”

  “Changed you? I’ll say it did!” She flipped the glass upward, flinging the contents over his face and shirt front. “Damn you to hell and back, Ross Turner!”

  “Don’t ever do that again.” The words were a growl so fierce she backed off a couple of steps, empty glass in hand.

  Wiping his jaw with the back of one hand, he pulled open the door and started down the corridor. She stepped out of the room and yelled, “It’s that little cowgirl you’re shacked up with, isn’t it? She must be one hot piece, to make you walk away from me!”

  Two young men emerging from the elevator at the end of the corridor, stopped to stare.

  “Lovers’ scrap,” Ross explained with a rueful grin as he walked past them.

&nb
sp; “Ah, man, and you’re walking away from all that?” One of them pointed at Cat standing hands on her hips in the revealing negligee.

  “Yeah.” He pushed the Down button. “Sometimes it’s just the right thing to do.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Hello.” Jessi’s tone registered her distraction as she answered her phone an hour after Ross had left.

  “Jessi? Is everything all right. You sound strange. Is it Ross? Is he…?” Laura Turner’s voice quickly filled with concern.

  “No, nothing’s wrong…not really. Ross’s fine. He’s walking without his cane, actually.”

  “Then why the ‘not really’? Jessi, I can tell when you’ve got concerns.” Laura Turner’s tone relaxed only slightly. “Talk to me, young lady.”

  “Cat Holt showed up here this evening.” Jessi’s reply was a breath of weary exasperation. “She and Ross have gone out on a…date.”

  “Cat? In Carleton? I was hoping I’d never again hear her name—which, by the way, fits. Jessi, you have to put a stop to that, get rid of her. She’ll try to convince Ross to go back on the circuit. She’ll ruin his life!”

  “Laura, I’m aware that you had hopes for us, but knowing what you do about Clint and me, you must have realized how unlikely they were. Ross isn’t interested in anything permanent…including me.”

  “And what about you, Jessi?”

  “After Clint Harrison, I’ve had my fill of rodeo cowboys…even ones like your son.”

  ****

  Rain lashing his windshield, Ross drove through Carleton and out to the shore road that led to his farm, only to find it barricaded by police.

  “Sorry, sir,” the officer informed him. “We had to shut it down. Waves are going over the road in several places.”

  “So when are you anticipating it will be open again?” Suddenly Ross couldn’t wait to get back to Jessi.

  “Not before morning, and even then only after the department of transportation has had an opportunity to assess the damage.”

  Ross turned his truck and started back into town. He’d have to spend the night, but where? He sure as hell wasn’t going back to that hotel where Cat might well still be in a major snit. Walmart. That was it. Walmart allowed RVs to spend the night in their parking lot. He didn’t imagine they’d object to one king-cab truck.

  He glanced at his watch. The store might still be open. He’d buy a sleeping bag and pillow and try to get a half-decent night’s sleep in the back seat before he faced the problems he foresaw back at the farm. Then another thought struck him.

  Damn it, they may not serve me, smellin’ like drunk of the year. They may even call the cops to report someone they suspect of drinking and driving. Well, I’ll have to chance it. If the police do come, I’ll let them breathalyze me.

  ****

  The storm clouds that had started to roll in off the bay shortly after Ross and Cat left blotted the sky with a mottled charcoal cover. The wind rose and howled about the farmhouse. Jessi cleaned the kitchen and went into the parlor with a cup of coffee. She ignored the uncomfortable old sofa and curled, with her back against the wall, on her mattress. She’d lighted a fire on the hearth, but now she decided it would be best to allow it to burn down because of the wind howling down the chimney. No telling when the old stone structure had last been cleaned. A chimney fire on such a night could be disastrous.

  Fox climbed up and rested her head in her lap with a sigh.

  “He left with that witch.” She stroked the little dog. “We had a fight, and he left with that beautiful, sexy witch.” She paused, then continued, “But why should I care? I’m a veteran of two-timing cowboys.” Another pause. Then: “What am I saying? Two-timing? In what universe would Ross’s taking off with an old girlfriend in any way be two-timing me? There’s nothing between us…except a couple of stellar kisses and…maybe a few hot fantasies…and maybe some warm, cozy ones,” she concluded, thinking back to the domestic contentment she’d witnessed between Jake, Shelby, and their daughter.

  Fox looked up at her and whined.

  “I know, I know. He’s been good to you. I guess he does have some good points. Still, going off with a woman called Cat! Unbelievable.”

  But, a nagging little internal voice muttered, he has been celibate since the accident. Maybe even for a while previous. And he has respected you even though you’re sleeping in the same room.

  The wind shrieked to new heights of violence. The electric lights flickered twice, three times, and went out.

  “Lovely.” She moved Fox aside and got up to light the lanterns on the mantel. “Glad you’re here, girl. This promises to be the proverbial dark and stormy night.”

  ****

  Late the following afternoon, Ross drove into the farmyard. He was glad he’d insisted on taking his own truck the previous evening, following Cat into Carleton instead of relying on her for transportation. But then, he knew her. She’d left him stranded on more than one occasion. The question now was what kind of a greeting was he about to get inside the old house.

  Fox burst from the back door, barking her joy at seeing him. Well, at least one female is glad I’m back safe and sound.

  He got out and headed for the house, limping even though he no longer had to. Maybe a little sympathy might rear its head?

  “’Afternoon.” He stepped into the kitchen, spoke, then froze. Jessi stood by the table dressed in a short tangerine-colored dress that clung to every curve of her body, a single wide strap over one shoulder holding it in place. Cut down to there and up to there, the outfit made his breath catch in this throat. The woman inside it caused his gut to do a double take. Jessi Wallace—hair piled on her head, a few errant curls caressing creamy cheeks, slender gold earrings moving when she turned her head to face him—was a total knockout.

  “What’s all this?” He struggled to subdue Fox’s exuberance and get himself re-centered.

  “I’ve got a date.” She leaned against the cupboard and crossed her arms.

  “With who? You don’t know any men around here except Grady and Jake, and I’m pretty damned sure neither of them…”

  “I don’t see as how it’s any of your concern.” Green eyes, hard and bitter, narrowed as they looked over at him. “You appear to have had quite a hot date last night yourself. You reek of stale booze and look as if you’d been hit by a bus.”

  “Hot date! What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t pretend you and Cat Holt didn’t rekindle the old fires.”

  She was angry, angrier than he’d ever seen her, than he’d ever suspected she could get.

  So she does care. Now I just have to get out of this hole I’ve dug myself into.

  “Jess, listen…”

  The sound of a vehicle coming up the lane stopped him. Jesus, don’t let it be Cat. Not now.

  “That will be my date.” She swept a cream-colored shawl from the back of a chair and swung it about her shoulders. “Fox has been fed, and there’s a fire laid in the parlor. All you have to do is drop a match into it. Cold chicken in the fridge.”

  “Now just a damn minute!” By this time he was getting angry. He wasn’t about to let her walk out with another man with things the way they were between them. He followed her as she went out the back door. “I have a few things to say…”

  His words trailed off as Clint Harrison stepped out of a gleaming red sports car.

  Aw, hell and damnation! Not that bastard!

  “’Evenin’, Ross.” The bronc rider grinned as he strode around the vehicle to hold the passenger door open for Jessi. “Takin’ my girl out for dinner. Don’t bother to wait up.”

  He winked, and Ross felt his hands knotting into fists at his sides.

  Nothing he could do. He’d screwed up big time, and Jess had made a choice. He could only watch as the bastard gunned that fancy car around, tearing up chunks of dooryard, and headed back down the lane way too fast, a hand out the window waving at him.

  ****

  He stood
and went to the window, the beer still clutched in his hand. The sunset across the bay was a mixture of pinks and oranges beginning to purple as night began to arrive. He wished Jessi were there beside him to enjoy it. He wished he could take her in his arms and tell her how special she’d become to him, how he’d never met anyone like her, how…

  “Argh!” He broke off his thoughts and finished his beer in a long, single drink. What was the use of wishing for what wasn’t going to happen? Obviously she still had feelings for Clint Harrison or she wouldn’t have gone out with him. Clint Harrison with two good legs. Clint Harrison who hadn’t been stupid enough to go off with an old flame that meant nothing to him.

  Well, he could still feed himself and put himself to bed. And that was exactly how she’d find him when she got home…fed and asleep.

  ****

  “Kind of surprised you agreed to come out with me so easy.” Clint lowered his wine glass and looked over at her in the candlelight of the upscale restaurant to which he’d taken her. He was working his way through a second bottle. “You ignored my texts and phone calls all summer. Comin’ down here was a last-ditch effort on my part.”

  “Really? What made you decide to come now? Rodeo season slowing down, or is your butt getting too sore to go on?” She narrowed her eyes and looked over at him.

  “Come on, Jess. You know it’s how I make a livin’. I couldn’t just up and leave mid-season.”

  “Not even for two or three days? You could have caught a couple of red-eyes here and back…just to see how I was doing.”

  “And what would I have been seein’, Jess? You and that has-been bastard of a bull rider gettin’ it on?”

  “Hold it right there, Clint. Ross and I are simply friends…good friends. As you’ll remember, you were the one snuzzling up to Ginny Morgan. By the way, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” She gestured at his glass.

  He started a reply, a nasty one if Jessi knew facial expressions and body language. Then he paused, drew a deep breath, and let a slow, sly grin move over his face.