Cowboy Confessions

by Gail MacMillan

  “Jesus, Jessi!” Ross froze, his hand on the gelding’s withers.

  “She left a credit card, told me to get you out once she was gone.”

  “And you didn’t decide to tell me until now?” Ross advanced toward the other man, his hand on the brush turning white-knuckled.

  “You weren’t ready to hear it.” Jake straightened up to face him squarely. “And Jessi wouldn’t have been ready to listen to you. But now, after you’ve both had time to cool down, to get more than a little lonesome…”

  A hot, furious anger engulfed Ross’s gut. “Who made you judge and jury in our relationship?”

  “Not just me. Shel and I together. We had a rocky start to our relationship, and we saw a bit of similarity in yours and Jessi’s. We had to be apart a while to realize just how much we meant to each other. Now”—he moved out of Ross’s way—“I’d suggest that as soon as you finish rubbing down Midnight Brandy, you get out your cell and book a flight to Alberta.”

  “And just what makes you think this is the right time?” Ross scowled at the man he’d come to regard as a friend.

  “Shelby’s kept in touch with Jessi.” Jake shrugged. “She advised me to talk to you, that now is the time for you to make your move. Listen, man, my wife is a clever woman. Trust her. Make the call.”

  “I have to think about it.”

  ****

  Ross stepped into the farmhouse kitchen to Fox’s usual profuse greeting. Responding, he wondered what he’d do without the little mutt. She’d been the only constant in his life since he arrived in New Brunswick.

  His cell vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out.

  “Hello. Chase? Good to hear from you, man.” His voice reflected genuine enthusiasm. In spite of their often competitive stance, he and his brother loved each other and were good friends. “What’s new? Everyone okay?” He listened, then let out his best cowboy “Yehaw! A son! Congratulations, brother! Mother and boy doing well? Terrific.” Another pause, then, “Yeah, I will be out to see him…soon. You got a name yet? Jordan? After our favorite country singer? Great. When we get together, I have a great yarn to spin…about that name.”

  As he punched off, he was grinning. “Guess we’ve just got ourselves one great big legitimate reason to be Alberta bound, buddy,” he told Fox.

  ****

  “Hey, birthday girl.” Ross stepped into the farmhouse kitchen littered with discarded bright gift wrappings, the table in the center bearing the recent carnage of cake and ice cream.

  “Oh, Uncle Ross!” Katie Rose struggled out from a mound of toys and brightly colored paper to rush to him, face flushed. “You missed the best party ever!”

  “I can see that.” He grinned at Jake and Shelby, collapsed in chairs. “Sure looks like it was a real whingding.”

  “What’s that? Whingding?” She looked up at him, wide-eyed in a way he’d discovered could melt him like a popsicle in a microwave.

  “Good time.”

  “Whingding.” Ross guessed she was adding it to her vocabulary. Glancing over at Shelby, he was relieved to see it got a wry nod of approval.

  “Sit.” Katie Rose indicated a chair at the table. “You have to have some cake.”

  “Sure, okay, but why don’t you cut me a piece while I go out to my truck? I need to get something.”

  “Okay.” She climbed onto a chair and reached for the knife resting beside the remains of the cake.

  “Let me help.” Shelby came to her side and modified the size of the serving from a third of what was left of the cake to a more reasonable helping.

  Grinning, Ross went out to his truck. Shortly he was back, carrying a pony saddle, matching bridle, and a three-foot-high stuffed pink rabbit. Katie Rose’s eyes widened as he’d never seen before as she sucked in a deep breath.

  “Oh, Uncle Ross!” Her face lit up in a huge smile.

  “Oh, Ross!” Shelby shook her head ruefully, but she, too, was smiling.

  “Just a few things I picked up today in town.” He found himself suddenly feeling shy under the happy attention he was attracting.

  “I’m sure.” Shelby came to stand beside her daughter as the little girl dropped to her knees beside the gifts. “That saddle and bridle were custom made, or I don’t know anything about riding equipment.”

  “I might have talked to a guy about it a while back.”

  “Yes, you might have.”

  “Uncle Ross, can we put these on Pretty right now?” Hugging the rabbit, Katie Rose gazed up at him.

  “In the morning, honey.” Shelby took her daughter’s hand, sticky with cake, and helped her to her feet. “Anyway,” she hurried on as a lower lip pouted out, “Pretty’s probably asleep. Wash your hands and you can watch the Bugs Bunny video your dad gave you. Then it’s off upstairs for a much-needed bath.”

  “Okay.” The word came out slowly, reluctantly. “Want to watch it with me, Uncle Ross?”

  “I’d like to, but I have to get back to the farm. Fox will be wanting her supper.”

  “Why didn’t you bring her with you?” she asked.

  “She was asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her,” he lied, not wanting to say he’d been afraid a birthday party with a bunch of sugar-fueled five-year-olds might be too much for the dog.

  “Okay.” She headed for the parlor, but Shelby caught her up in her arms and carried her to the sink to wash sticky hands.

  “Now you can turn on the DVD player,” she said, replacing her daughter on the floor.

  “Don’t forget to eat your cake, Uncle Ross,” the child said as she headed into the next room holding the big rabbit and looking back at him. She ran the stuffed toy into the doorframe and promptly sat down unexpectedly on the floor. “He’s a big bugger, isn’t he? Excuse me, Mommy,” she continued as her mother rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I meant to say he’s a big bunny.”

  “Of course you did.” Shelby crossed her arms and gave her daughter a mildly admonishing look.

  Unabashed, Katie Rose scrambled to her feet and gathered up the rabbit.

  Grinning, Ross sat down at the table and took the fork Shelby handed him as the little girl scurried into the living room.

  “Milk?” Shelby went to the refrigerator.

  “Sure.” He remembered his objection to milk the first time Jessi had put it in front of him, but over her days with him, he’d developed a taste for it…or maybe a desire not to disappoint her.

  “Jake, what are we going to do about Katie Rose’s vocabulary? If she keeps on using that kind of language, she’ll be expelled on her first day of school.” She poured out a glass, then sank down on a chair across from Ross.

  “Not to worry. She’s learning. Did you see how quick she was to correct herself and apologize, just now? That’s progress.”

  “I guess.” Shelby heaved a sigh.

  “Good. Hold the thought. Man, am I beat.” Jake sat, as well. “Ten five-year-olds full of cake and ice cream can make one amazing amount of noise and confusion.”

  “Worse than a bunch of half-wild groupies after your body and soul?” Ross slanted him a sly grin.

  “Jake…” Shelby looked over at her husband, astonishment in her glance.

  “Ross knows. He caught me singing in the barn the other day, and I confessed.”

  “And were you surprised?” Shelby asked.

  “Surprised is putting it way too soft.” He finished the cake, downed the milk, and stood. “I never knew a genuine celebrity before.”

  “You’re leaving?” Jake asked as Ross slapped on the Stetson he’d removed before sitting down at the table. “Hang around. Once that cake and milk settles, we can have a beer while Shelby gets one very tired, sticky kid to bed.”

  “No, thanks. I need to get home and finish closing up the place. I want to get an early start in the morning. Aside from attending the birthday bash, I dropped in to say good-bye. Fox and I are heading home…to Alberta.”

  “Did you call Jessi?” Shelby’s words came out with e
agerness.

  “No, I got a call from my brother. He and his wife Janet had a baby boy. I need to be introduced to my nephew.”

  “That’s wonderful news!” Shelby gave him a hug, then stepped back to look up into his face. “But you will be seeing Jessi when you get out there?”

  “Not sure she’ll want to see me.”

  “Ross Turner, you’re not afraid of a two-thousand-pound bull, but one small woman…” Shelby put her hands on her hips.

  “Yeah, you got that right.”

  “When does your flight leave?” Jake got to his feet. “Do you need a drive to the airport?”

  “Thanks, but no. Fox and I are driving. I bought my rented truck some time back.”

  “Driving? Man, it’s November. We could get a snowstorm anytime now. And it’s thousands of miles.” Jake faced him, his expression grave.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want Fox shipped in an airline crate clear across this country. Look after this guy, Shelby. He’s still not the world’s best rider.”

  “I will.”

  He gathered her into a bear hug. When he released her, he held out a hand to Jake. “Till we meet again, my friend. And thanks.”

  “For what? You’re the one who saved our daughter.”

  “You know for what. Now I have to go. Say good-bye to the kid for me.”

  “I’ll get her.” Shelby started for the parlor door.

  “No!” Ross stopped her with more vehemence than he’d intended. Then, more softly, “No.”

  “Understood.” Jake nodded and slapped him on a shoulder. “Good luck. We’ll be rootin’ for you. Let us know how it goes.”

  “Sure will. Oh, and by the way…” He paused in the doorway. “They named the kid Jordan, after my brother’s and my favorite country singer.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The windshield wipers couldn’t cut it. The Alberta snowstorm was too much for their slashing sweeps. Ross could barely see ten feet in front of the truck. Jesus, what a night. Then he stopped himself. Have to stop cussing.

  In the passenger bucket seat, Fox lay curled up in a blanket, eyes wide open. She hadn’t slept since they’d driven into the storm just over the Alberta border. She seemed to sense they were in trouble as Ross struggled to keep the truck on what he assumed was the road in the whiteout.

  We should have pulled off at that last town. Ross’s gloved hands gripped the wheel with a vengeance. But, damn it, five more hours and we can be home…well, maybe six or seven, in these rotten conditions.

  The truck swerved, swirled, and catapulted off the road.

  Ross’s head flew forward and hit the steering wheel as his vehicle jammed to a stop, nose buried in a snowbank.

  ****

  “Sir, are you okay? Can you open the door?”

  Ross came back to a blurry consciousness, aware of someone banging against the window on his left side and Fox’s indignant barking.

  What happened? He struggled to clear his head as he turned slowly toward the noise to see eyes peering in at him through a framework of snow.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He swallowed hard, rubbed his forehead, and lowered the window.

  The blast of cold air helped to clear away some of the cobwebs of confusion and pain. “What happened?”

  “You spun off the road.” The man he was now recognizing as a mountie informed him. “I’ve called for a tow truck. It should be here any minute. Sure you’re okay? How about the little dog?”

  Ross turned to Fox, who’d stopped barking. “Okay, girl?”

  She wagged her tail.

  “Yeah, she’s fine.”

  “Would you mind stepping out, sir?” The officer moved back to allow Ross to force his way out through the snow piled against the driver’s door.

  “I haven’t been drinking, Officer.” Ross shoved his way out of the vehicle and faced the mountie.

  “Have to check,” he replied. “Although I know anyone could spin out of control on these roads. There’s a motel with a restaurant and gas bar about five miles up ahead. I think you should check in there once you’re back on the road. Fatigue can be almost as bad as drinking. Nothing can be so important as to risk your life on roads like this.”

  “I’m heading home to see my nephew. He was born last Friday.”

  “Congratulations. Is the child well? And his mother?”

  “Both hale and hearty as far as I know.”

  “Then there’s no rush. I’m sure the boy will still be there if you arrive a few hours later than you’d planned.”

  “You’re right, Officer. Kid’s not going anywhere.”

  An hour later, as Ross settled for sleep in the bed of a seedy motel, he grimaced as he touched his forehead. Bloody hell, all I’ve got is a big headache, nothing near serious enough to bring Jessi rushing to my side. Damn it, what gave me that thought? Jake and Shelby analogy? I’m going home to see my nephew. Must have banged my head harder than I thought.

  ****

  “He is one good-looking guy.” Ross grinned down at his nephew in his arms. He’d found Janet and Chase at his parents’ house when he arrived at the Turner ranch. “Looks a lot like his mother, lucky kid.” He winked over at Janet.

  Jordan Turner screwed up his small face and wailed.

  “Time for lunch.” Janet took her son back into her arms and headed upstairs.

  “Where did he get that outfit?” Ross turned to his mother after they’d gone. “ ‘Cowboy’ on the back of sleepers that small?”

  “Jessi brought it over yesterday.” Laura Turner turned casually back to checking the roast in the oven. “I think she had it specially made. He is fourth-generation cowboy, after all.”

  “Jess was here? Yesterday?” Forgetting to play it cool and disinterested, Ross asked quicker than he knew he should have.

  “Actually, she’s been here a few times since Jordan was born.” His mother shoved the roaster back inside and closed the oven door. “She’s really fond of the little fellow. She’ll make a great mother. Hopefully she’ll meet a good man who will make that possible some day.” Humming she went to the sink and began peeling potatoes.

  “Someday?” Ross followed her. “Someday? I thought you had Jess and me all but married. I thought…”

  “So did I, dear.” Laura half turned to him and smiled. “But I was wrong. I see now that you and Jessi weren’t meant to be a couple. She’s devoted to her home and work, while you’ll no doubt be going back on the circuit. Furthermore, after her experience with Clint Harrison, I don’t think she’ll ever want to get serious about a rodeo cowboy again. I obviously misread the entire situation.” She paused and looked musingly off into space.

  “Now, there’s that nice young man from down Smokey Lake way. Joan tells me he’s been up here more than once, looking for horses. I understand he’s more or less taken over his father’s place these past few years.” She went back to peeling potatoes. “Actually, I was thinking Wrangler might be just what he’s looking for.”

  “Wrangler? Wrangler?” His horse’s name burst from Ross twice in his agitation. “I hardly think so. Wrangler isn’t for sale. Not to some guy from Smokey Lake that I’ve never clapped eyes on. And you can tell Jess for me I don’t appreciate her suggesting…”

  “Jessi didn’t suggest any such thing.” His mother glanced sideways at him. “I imagine she knows you too well to believe you’d be willing to give up Wrangler at any price. I simply thought it might be good for the horse to be somewhere he can do the work he was bred to do, the work he enjoys. The same goes for Jessi, in a way.” She peeled a length of skin from a potato, her attention apparently on her work. “She needs a place to settle down and do what she does best.”

  “Your mother’s right.” Tall, broad-chested, blue-eyed Bob Turner, from his seat at the kitchen table, joined the conversation. “Fine girl, Jessi Wallace. She deserves nothing but the best.”

  “Yeah, well.” Feeling chafed to the bone, Ross rubbed his palms on the seat of his jeans. “Okay, sure, fine.
Just remember, my horse isn’t for sale…especially not to some guy from Smokey Lake who’s up here putting the moves on Jess. Now, I’m going down to the barn to visit Wrangler until dinner’s ready.”

  He grabbed his jacket from a peg by the door.

  “I’ll go with you.” Chase followed his example.

  As they walked down to the barn, Chase swung an arm about his brother’s shoulders.

  “Damn it, Ross.” He chuckled. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “What do you mean?” Ross stopped short and scowled at his brother.

  “Mom’s playing you. Dad, too. Reverse psychology.”

  “You mean…?”

  “Yes, I mean. Mom is still dead set on getting you and Jessi paired up…Dad, too. They know you pretty darned well. If throwing you together didn’t work, then making it seem exactly the wrong thing to do might just be the answer. Sure, there was a guy up here from Smokey Lake, but he wasn’t putting the moves on Jess. He was just looking for good stock. And Mom and Dad would never sell Wrangler…well, that is, unless you’d acted like anything other than a gentleman when you and Jess were sharing that old farmhouse in New Brunswick. And even then…”

  “So you’re saying…”

  “Yeah, I’m saying they’re still as hot as ever to get you married off to her.”

  They continued on to the barn. Once inside, Ross went to the box stall where his gelding Wrangler stood, head thrust out to greet him. The horse whinnied a greeting.

  “Good to see you, too, boy,” Ross rubbed his snout. “I’ll take you for a run tomorrow, promise.”

  “He’s been restless, Ross.” Chase moved on to another stall with steel bars. “Maybe you should consider selling him. Not much sense in you keeping him when you’re never home. Now this guy”—he put his hand in to pat the stallion inside—“has been living up to his name as a gentleman since Jessi worked with him. I’ve been riding the Grey Gent a fair amount since she got him settled. I sure as hell wouldn’t do that if I thought there was a serious chance of getting pelted. I have a family to think of these days.”