“Don’t you start trying to manipulate me, too.” Ross rubbed the horse under his forelock. “Wrangler will be getting lots of exercise. I’m planning to stick around…for a while. But don’t say anything to Mom. She’ll be planning flower arrangements and surfing the Internet for dresses the minute you do.”
“Ross, what was it caused the rift between you two back in New Brunswick? Had to be something pretty serious. Jessi came home, unexpected as roses in January. She never explained it to anyone, that I know of. Not something really stupid…the old wine, women, and song bit?”
“It was whisky, and only one woman, and I sure as hell wasn’t singing.” Ross kept focused on his horse. “Cat Holt and Clint Harrison showed up.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. Jess and I had this stupid fight, and we both went off separately with them…first Cat and I to her hotel room—where I assure you nothing happened aside from her throwing a glass of whisky in my face—and then Jess and Clint to a fancy dinner at an expensive restaurant. Then…” He stopped. God, it all sounded so high school.
“Then?” His brother leaned against the stall beside him and crossed his arms. Ross could tell he wasn’t going anywhere until he got the whole story.
“Then Clint made a pass at Jess, started getting nasty, and I stepped in, he took a swing at me…long story short, we had one whale of a fight and both of us ended up in jail. Before I could explain, Jess hightailed it for Alberta without knowing that nothing happened between me and Cat…that nothing will ever happen between that woman and me.”
“Hell, is that all?” Chase turned away to pick up a hay fork.
“Is that all?” Ross stopped him before he could enter a stall. “Isn’t it enough? Jessi isn’t into one-night stands, and much as she understands the lifestyle of some rodeo cowboys, she isn’t about to fall for any guy who is part of it…like she discovered Harrison is. Only you wouldn’t understand, you who went off to university, who never got into any scrapes.”
“Listen, little brother.” Clay put a hand on Ross’s shoulder. “Don’t nominate me for sainthood so fast. I had my times at college…my share of wine, women, and song. I think most men have to get a certain amount of craziness out of their systems before they’re ready to settle down.”
“You…wine, women, and song? Hell and high water, Chase. I always thought…Mom and Dad always believed…”
“Maybe Mom, but definitely not Dad. He actually gave me a lecture on safe sex the day before I left for university.”
“Dad? Why didn’t I come in for this talk? Why…?”
“Because you took off before he had a chance. Later, I guess he assumed you’d learned on your own.” He continued into the stall. “So go see Jessi. Explain everything to her. She’s got a lot of common sense. I’m pretty damned sure she’ll accept a cowboy’s confession…just like Janet did.”
****
A hazy winter sun peeked over the trees late the following afternoon as Ross led a saddled Wrangler out of the barn. He’d lunged him in the round pen and realized his parents and brother had been right. The horse was in desperate need of exercise. He would have taken him out first thing in the morning but it had seemed more important to help Chase with ranch chores, to give him more time with his wife and child. Now that Ross had his horse reasonably quieted, he planned to go for a long ride up into the frost-trimmed trees above the hayfields. Later, maybe, if he got up the courage, he’d drive over to the Wallace ranch. Maybe.
He was about to swing into the saddle when he saw a maroon king cab, with a horse trailer attached, driving into the yard. It drove past the house, out to where Ross stood, stopped, and Jack Wallace swung out.
“’Afternoon, Ross.” He came forward to greet his neighbor’s son, an affable grin on his ruggedly handsome face, right hand extended. “Heard you were home. Good to see you, boy.”
“Good to see you, too, Jack.” Ross accepted his greeting. “Getting or bringing?” He indicated the trailer.
“Oh, getting. Your dad called last night and said the Grey Gent needed more work and would Jessi have time to get him straightened out. So…”
Warning bells went off in Ross’s head. Hadn’t Chase just told him the stallion was behaving well, that he’d been riding him?
“I’m surprised Jessi didn’t come for him herself.” Ross scratched Wrangler under his forelock, avoiding Jack Wallace’s eyes.
“Yeah, well…” The man looked down at his boots and shifted them in the light snow. “She was busy.”
“Not comfortable playing cupid, Jack?” Ross broke into a grin. Man, who could resist these people? Furthermore, he didn’t want to. Not any more.
“Damn it, Ross, we all know you and my girl would make a great team.” He squinted over at Ross. “Your mother and my wife are just determined to give the situation a boot in the backside.”
“Yeah, well, boot received. So let’s get down to business, Jack. Is this just too outdated or do I still have to get your permission to ask your daughter to marry me?”
“Hell, how would I know, Ross?” He grinned over at the younger man. “But if you’re asking, sure, go ahead, with my blessing…or whatever I’m supposed to say.” He shook hands with Ross again, nodded, and turned back to the truck and trailer. “I have to go in to Calgary, so I’ll leave the trailer here. No need to drag along something that was only a smokescreen anyway. Give me a hand to unhitch.”
“Sure.” Feeling happier than he had in months, Ross went to assist his hopefully future father-in-law.
“But, Ross.” Jack Wallace paused when they’d finished unhitching the trailer. “You might have some work to do first. I’m not sure what happened that last while down in New Brunswick, but Jessi came home, from what I could see, more than a bit riled at you. Never gave details, but…”
“Yeah, yeah, I can’t say I blame her.” Ross leaned against the trailer. “But I can explain…if she’ll just listen.”
****
“Ross, don’t you look nice!” Ross came downstairs to find his mother taking a golden brown pie from the oven.
“Clean shirt and jeans are hardly fancy.” He pulled on the sheepskin-lined rancher’s jacket he carried and reached for his Stetson on a peg by the door.
“But a midday shower?” She gave an appreciative sniff.
“Okay, okay.” He grinned over at her. “Will it make your day to know you might be on the road to getting what you wanted?”
“And what might that be?” She shot him an innocuous glance.
“I’m heading over to see Jessi.”
“Really? Well, drive carefully.” She turned back to the stove.
“I will.” He stared at her back, puzzled. “Come on, Fox. Jess will be glad to see you, anyway.”
He had his hand on the doorknob when his mother lost her battle to remain disinterested. She crossed the kitchen in a rush to hug her tall son. “Good luck, honey,” she whispered, a catch in her voice.
“Yeah, well, I’ll need it.” He swallowed a quiver of emotion, kissed the top of her head, and stepped outside, his little red dog at his heels.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ross drove up to the rail fence in front of the Wallace ranch house and got out. It had started to snow as he left his home. Now it had all the earmarks of one heavy storm. He shoved open the gate and headed toward the verandah.
“Ross!” Joan Wallace burst out the door. “I’m so glad to see you!”
She rushed down the steps and into his arms.
“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Wallace.” Although pleased with the woman’s greeting, he was more than a bit astonished at its vehemence.
“Jessi went up into the hills, looking for that little palomino she’s been working with.” Joan Wallace’s words spilled out as she looked up at Ross, her face creased with lines of concern. “A customer’s truck backfired as he was leaving, and the mare panicked and took off. Jessi rode after her just as the first flakes started to fall. Jack is gone to Calgary on business, and I hate to
leave this place alone. Ross, will you…?”
“Which is your best horse…the one that can keep his hooves under him in snow?”
“That would be Badger. He’s the buckskin in the first stall on the left.”
“Good.” He released her and headed for the barn with long, determined strides. “Come on, Fox,” he called to the little dog who’d jumped from the truck when he got out.
“Thanks, Ross,” Joan called after him.
He waved a dismissive hand without turning back, Fox at his heels. He had to find Jessi. Maybe the little dog could once again work her magic.
****
White. Everything around him appeared to be an endless blanket of white. Snow slanted into his eyes. He pulled his Stetson lower as he squinted into the swirling flakes.
“Jess!” he bellowed for what must have been the hundredth time, at least. “Jess!”
Beneath him, Badger shook his head. His mane had frozen, frost had made a rim around his snout, but he hadn’t once faltered.
Poor old devil must find it damned uncomfortable, but he’s one great horse. Joan gave me the right one. He’s tough as nails and not about to give in to a bit of weather.
Plugging ahead, Ross turned the collar of his sheepskin-lined jacket higher.
Damn, it’s cold. Gloves aren’t doing their job. My fingers are getting numb. Jess, where in hell are you?
****
A winter twilight was beginning to descend and Ross had all but given up hope of finding her before complete darkness engulfed him when Fox, who’d been running ahead, paused and sniffed the air like a pointer. Badger turned his head to the right and whinnied. A horse answered.
“Where, Fox? Show me.” Ross swung in the saddle, looking in the same direction as the horse. “Go, girl. Find Jessi.”
The dog gave a sharp bark and headed toward a grove of naked birches about fifty yards away. In the deepening darkness and driving snow, Ross recognized the silhouette of a horse. A horse with reins hanging to the ground. Something jumped in his chest.
He turned and sent the old horse plunging through the rapidly accumulating snow.
Once beside the animal, he jumped to the ground. Standing a few feet away, head bent over a mound in the snow, rope dangling from its neck, was an animal barely recognizable as a palomino, so encrusted was it from the elements. Fox set up an insistent barking over the immobile lump.
“Jess!” He floundered to join the dog, dropped to his knees, and pulled her out of the drift and into his arms. “Jess!” He shook her roughly, desperately.
You have to be alive, you have to!
She moved and moaned. Her eyes opened slowly.
“Ross.” He’d never thought his own name could sound so good, so perfect.
“Yeah, Ross.” He fought to make light of the situation. He couldn’t handle anything else. “Got yourself into a fine mess this time, lady.”
“Big cat startled my horse.” The words came out thick, struggling. “I wasn’t paying attention…trying to get a rope on Maisy.”
“You got throwed.” He had to joke…had to or his voice would crack. “Come on…” He gathered her up in his arms and began to struggle through the storm toward Badger. “I brought a bomb-proof fella. He’ll get us home, big cats or not.”
“Badger?” She turned her head slightly to look at the horse. Good. She was coming out of it…at least enough to recognize the horse. “You rode Badger?”
“Your mom’s recommendation.” He hoisted her into the saddle. When he felt she could remain there, he went to gather up her mount’s reins and the rope dangling from the palomino’s neck. When he finally vaulted up behind her, with both horses in tow, she slumped against his chest.
“Take me home, Ross.” The words were the sweetest mumble he’d ever heard.
“You got it, lady. Come on, Badger, Fox. Home.”
****
“How is she?” Ross turned from the darkened ranch house window where he’d been staring out into the blizzard. His jaw worked in a tick he couldn’t control as Joan Wallace returned to the warm kitchen with its fire crackling on the stone hearth.
“Sleeping.” A weak smile curled her lips. “She’ll be fine, Ross, thanks to you.”
“Don’t forget Fox and Badger.” He was able to grin in return.
“Of course.” She looked fondly down at the dog curled up on a mat near the fire. “I think I might just have a very large beef bone for you, Fox.”
She went to the refrigerator and took out a treat that made Fox’s head come up and her ears perk. When Joan laid it in front of her, the little dog heaved a sigh of pleasure before attacking the meal.
“Can I see her?” Ross couldn’t stop himself asking.
“I think you’d best wait for morning.” Joan Wallace touched his arm gently. “She’s exhausted.”
“Sure.” He sank into a chair at the table. His boots sat drying by the fire, his coat hung thawing around the back of a chair beside them, and he felt a weariness enveloping him. “I’ll just sit here for a bit and rest up.”
“Fine.” Joan Wallace put another log on the fire and replaced the screen in front of it. “I assume you’ve called your family to let them know you’re safe? Good. I’ll be off to bed, then. There are cold cuts and beer in the refrigerator and bread in the box on the counter. If you feel you need something stronger, help yourself to Jack’s bar in his office.”
“Beer and a sandwich of cold cuts sound just fine, thanks, Joan. I’ve sworn off the hard stuff.”
“Well, good for you. The guest room is on the right at the top of the stairs. I’m sure you’re ready for rest. And, Ross”—she paused on her way out of the kitchen—“a hundred thousand thank-yous.”
****
“Ross?” His name spoken softly jolted him out of his sleep. In front of him, an opened bottle of beer with little more than a mouthful missing sat on the table beside an uneaten sandwich. Standing in the kitchen was a vision in a pair of flannelette pajamas with galloping horses all over them, golden-brown hair falling over her shoulders.
“Jess?” He pulled himself upright and cleared his throat when her name sounded like a croak. “Jess.”
“Yes.” Smiling, she crossed the room. “Ross, Mom told me what you did. Thank you.”
“No need. It was mostly Fox and Badger.” He reached for his beer and took a long drink from the bottle, its carbonation long gone. God, how long have I been asleep?
Glancing toward the window, he saw early morning sunlight flooding into the room. The room was still warm, but the fire on the hearth had died to a few embers.
“Looks like the beginnings of one very fine day.” He pulled himself upright and flinched as cramped muscles came into play. “Guess I never made it to that bed your mother offered.”
“Guess you didn’t.” She headed to the percolator and began to make coffee. “Ross, what brought you back to Alberta?” She spoke with her back to him.
“New nephew.”
“Oh, yes, right.” She finished setting up the machine but didn’t turn back. Instead she stood looking out a window.
“Pretty awesome little guy.” Ross struggled to find comfortable conversation.
“Certainly is.”
“Wouldn’t mind having one of my own someday.” He took a giant leap.
“Really?” She swung back to face him. “I thought, after Katie Rose got lost, you said…”
“Yeah, well, I was kind of freaked out. I’ve had time to think since then…and I’ve met my nephew, and…”
“And?” She crossed the room and startled him by sliding onto his lap.
“And since I’ve found a lady I think would make a great mother…”
“And might you be in love with this lady who will be the mother of your progeny?”
“Pretty damned…darned sure. And that’s an all-out confession. She’s made me give up whisky and work on cutting down on the cussing.”
“And other women?”
“Jess
, about Cat…”
“No need to confess to anything right now. After I had time to think things over, I decided a man who’d get into a fight with that useless bit of trash called Clint Harrison, in order to defend my honor, couldn’t be too serious about that bold…witch.” She grinned for a moment before looking deep into his eyes and moving forward to put her lips to his. “See, no more unacceptable language from me, either.”
Ross’s arms went about her, and a complete happiness he’d never felt before enveloped him. No bull riding championship could be as good as this. Him and Jess.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” she murmured against his cheek as he pulled her close.
“What?”
“I went to New Brunswick to save you, and you came back to Alberta in time to rescue me.”
“Yeah, I guess.” But he was only half listening as he bundled her closer into his arms, as thoughts of kissing her and so much more distracted him.
“Well, well.” They broke apart but Jessi remained on his knee as Jack Wallace came into the kitchen, stamping snow from his boots. “Caught you, young fella. Now you have no choice but to marry my daughter and make an honest woman of her.”
“Guess so.” Ross grinned at Jessi. “Find a parson, and we’ll get right to it.”
“Ah, now, that won’t work at all, at all.” Jack Wallace shed his Stetson and coat and headed across the kitchen to put a big hand on the coffeepot. “Damn! Cold.”
“I must have forgotten to plug it in. It’s all set up.” Jessi started to rise, but her father waved her back.
“Stay where you are.” He shoved the plug into an outlet. “Now, as I was saying,” he continued, turning back to the couple. “No quick wedding plans will do. Can you just imagine the stir your mother would kick up, Ross, if she didn’t have time to see it done up the way ladies consider right? And that probably would be mild, considering what I’d have to face here. We only have one child, and I’m damned sure Joan isn’t about to let her get married in anything less than stellar style.”
“Okay, fine.” Ross emitted a half-groan. “Then, when?” He looked at Jessi.
“I’m thinking Valentine’s Day.”
Cowboy Confessions Page 20
