Jenna's Cowboy

by Sharon Gillenwater

  “Like I said, it was a good sermon.” Jenna laughed, and the minister joined in.

  Nate knew they were talking about Misty, but he didn’t particularly appreciate their humor. The woman had done everything except stand on her head and whistle “Yankee Doodle” to get his attention. Evidently, it had been apparent to everyone. He felt a flush creep up his neck. Great.

  “Nice to meet you, Nate.”

  “You too, Pastor.” He was relieved that his voice didn’t betray his annoyance.

  Nate carried Zach out to Jenna’s pickup. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation. “So was everyone watching Misty and me during church?”

  She threw the diaper bag on the front passenger seat. “I expect a few people figured out what she was up to, but I doubt most people realized what was going on. For the most part, the folks around me weren’t paying her any attention.”

  “But you were.” Fastening Zach in the car seat, he waited for her answer. When she didn’t say anything, he clicked the last strap in place and straightened, looking at her.

  She made a face at him. “Caught me. As did Pastor Brad. I’ll admit it. I spent almost the whole church service watching her make a play for you. And I didn’t like it one bit.”

  That put a whole new wrinkle on things. Nate grinned and opened the driver’s door. “Jealous?”

  “Yes. And don’t you dare gloat.”

  “Aw, come on. My girl is jealous, and I can’t gloat? That’s no fun.”

  “Am I your girl?” she asked softly, her expression thoughtful, maybe a little wistful. She looked so pretty in her turquoise dress that he was sorely tempted to lean down and kiss her.

  “Honey, you’re the only girl—or woman—I’ve ever truly been interested in. The only one I’ve ever cared about.” He decided to be completely honest. “The only one I’ve ever dated.”

  She blinked, then frowned. “But we’ve only had one date.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’ve never taken anyone else out?”

  “Not really. I spent time with a woman in Marfa at a couple of church picnics and met her once for coffee at the cafe. She was visiting her cousin for the summer, then went back to Boston. I never heard from her.”

  “Did you write her?”

  “Naw. She didn’t suggest it, and I didn’t ask for her address. We didn’t have any special connection, only interesting conversation.”

  “You’ve been deprived.”

  “I’m bashful.”

  “A little bit in high school, maybe. But you shouldn’t be now. Nate, every single woman from fifteen to forty in Callahan Crossing would turn cartwheels down Main Street for the chance to go out with you.”

  He tweaked a little curl that blew across her cheek. “You tryin’ to get rid of me?”

  “No, but I don’t think you should underestimate yourself, either.”

  “Ma-ma!”

  Jenna stuck her head into the pickup and looked over the front seat. “What’s the matter, Zach?”

  “Fruit snack.”

  “Okay.” She leaned across the seat and dug through the diaper bag, coming up with a little package. After ripping it open, she handed it to her son. Straightening, she rested her hand on the truck door. “I really have to get him home.”

  “I’ll see you around four. Jenna, just to be clear on this—I don’t want to go out with anyone else.” He hesitated a second. “And I hope you don’t want to, either.”

  Her smile sent his heartbeat into overdrive. “I don’t.”

  “Good.” He helped her in the truck, waited until she was buckled up, then shut the door. He waved to Zach and chuckled when the little boy waved back, happily chewing on his snack.

  Nate watched them drive away, his good mood restored. Glancing at his watch, he jogged over to his truck. His folks were expecting him for Sunday dinner, and he was late.

  Jenna laughed as her big, tall brother bent down, swung a blue kid’s-size plastic golf club at the large white plastic ball, and completely missed it. Zach stepped up and smacked the ball clear across the room. He raised his hands and a red golf club up in the air. “Yea!”

  “Good job, buddy.” Jenna clapped her hands. “Now, why don’t you and Uncle Chance play golf a little later? You have other presents to open.”

  Chance pouted for a second, then ruffled her son’s hair. “Go on, pardner, see what other good stuff you got.”

  Zach handed him the golf club, and Chance tucked both of them away in the little cart.

  “This one is from Nate.” Jenna picked up a colorful balloon-patterned bag. “There’s a card too.” With Zach standing beside her, she pulled the card out of the bag and handed it to him. “What a cool card. It has cars on it.” He opened it and music began to play, punctuated with an occasional “Vroom, vroom.” The little boy studied it seriously as he closed and opened it a couple of times. Then he began dancing around to the music.

  After a couple of minutes, he set it on the coffee table and peered into the sack. Pushing aside the blue speckled tissue paper, he pulled out a clear plastic package with two cars, what appeared to be launchers of some kind, and a post with countdown lights similar to what was used in car racing.

  Jenna pointed to one of the toys. “Cool, Zach. Race cars.” He grinned and tugged on one corner of the thick plastic, but it was sealed tight. “Why don’t you take it over to Nate and let him open it. You need some grown-up help with this one.”

  Zach obediently carried it over to Nate, who was sitting on the red leather couch. Her little guy stood at her big guy’s knee, watching intently as Nate tried to figure out how to get into the thing. He pulled his pocket knife out of his pocket. “This may take awhile, buddy. All the pieces are fastened in. Why don’t you open something else while I work on this?”

  Zach frowned and thought about it for a minute, then nodded and went back to Jenna.

  “This bag is from Grandma and Papa.” Jenna put the big bag on the floor. The first thing Zach pulled out was a green plaid cowboy shirt. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  Zach’s gaze drifted to Nate. He glanced in the bag—more clothes—and headed back to check on the race car unwrapping progress.

  Jenna pulled out a little blue Western shirt with pearl snaps. “Zach, look at this cute shirt that Grandma and Papa got you.”

  Zach stopped, turned, pointed his index finger at the shirt, and nodded once. “Yeah.” Short and sweet. He spun around and went straight to Nate while all the grown-ups laughed.

  “He’s definitely more interested in those cars than clothes,” said her mom with a grin.

  “But he’ll like wearing them.” She took out a couple pairs of jeans. “He knows when he looks snazzy.” In the bottom of the bag, Jenna spied a bright red furry toy. So her mom hadn’t missed his love for the red muppet. “Zach, you’d better come check this out. There’s something really cool still in the bag.”

  Zach watched Nate struggle with a plastic strap holding one of the cars in place.

  “Not there yet, bud.”

  The little boy went back to his mom and peeked in the bag. “Elmo!” He tugged on it, tipping over the bag. When he got it out and hugged it, the toy started talking.

  Zach jumped and held it out away from him. Elmo’s mouth moved when he said hello and his head turned from side to side. Zach’s forehead wrinkled in concentration, then he grinned and looked at his grandma. “Wow.”

  “You like that?” asked Sue.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Papa picked it out.”

  Jenna stared at her dad. “Really?”

  “I notice what interests my grandson. And the rest of my family too.”

  Jenna grinned at him. “And here I thought you paid more attention to the livestock than us.”

  Her dad winked at her. “Don’t count on it.”

  She instructed Zach to set the toy on the coffee table so everybody could see and hear it. He obeyed, listening as Elmo sang a tune. He giggled when the toy crosse
d its legs.

  Will stared at it. “How does it do that?”

  “You’re jealous because that red thing is more agile than you are.” Chance ducked when his brother threw a pillow at him.

  Nate set the toy cars and the rest of the race equipment on the coffee table. Zach went around the table to check them out. He pushed a button on the start tower and it blasted out “Start your engines.” Lights flashed—red, yellow, green.

  Nate glanced at Jenna. “Oops. I didn’t know it would be so loud. Maybe you should play with the cars.”

  Zach picked up a car. “Nate help.”

  Nate helped him gather up the two cars and launchers. They moved over to a spot with plenty of room and sat down on the hardwood floor. Nate fastened each car into a launcher and lined them up side by side. Then he showed him how to make them go. Zach tried pushing the lever with two fingers, then three, but he couldn’t make it work. So Nate helped him, launching his own car simultaneously. The cars raced across the floor and partway down the hall. Giggling, Zach ran after them and brought them back.

  They raced the cars over and over for the next twenty minutes, sometimes using the ramps in the set and sometimes not. Zach tried hitting the lever with his fist, but that didn’t work. So Nate kept helping him. He laughed almost as much as Zach and never lost patience with the little boy. They finally moved so they could sit back against the wall.

  Jenna watched them for a long time and noticed her dad doing the same, a smile lighting his still handsome but weathered face. As if sensing her appraisal, he turned his head and met her gaze. When he nodded his approval, she almost hopped up and did a happy dance.

  “Is it time for me to start grilling the burgers?” asked Will. “I’m hungry.”

  “Me too.” Chance rose from his chair. “I’ll help.”

  Her brothers headed for the patio to fire up the grill, and Jenna and her mom started for the kitchen to get everything else ready. Zach stood by Nate instead of sitting down as he’d done all the other times. She paused to see if he was getting too tired and might need to do something quieter for a while.

  He rested his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Push with my toe.”

  “Good idea.” Together they put the cars in the starting blocks. Zach stood and hung on to Nate’s arm for balance. Watching as Zach positioned his foot on the lever and pushed, Nate launched his car at the same time. They zipped across the room side by side. “Hey, that worked great.” Nate held up his open palm. “Hi five.”

  Zach slapped his palm, then ran to get the cars.

  “Did you suggest that?” Jenna decided her son still had enough energy to play for a while longer.

  “Nope. He thought of it all by himself.” Nate smiled up at her, beaming like a proud papa.

  Jenna’s throat clogged with emotion. She might be scared of love, but that didn’t seem to matter to her heart. She was falling fast.

  The rest of the afternoon and evening passed quickly, with delicious food, lots of good-natured teasing, and laughter. Zach blew out his two candles with her help. He swiped his finger in the blue icing on the race car cake—which now seemed perfect given the way he’d spent much of the afternoon— before she could cut him a piece.

  When Nate decided he needed to go home, Jenna walked out to the pickup with him. It was dark, but she purposefully didn’t turn on the porch light. The half moon illuminated the yard well enough to see. Still, she was thankful that Nate had parked with the driver’s side away from the porch. She wouldn’t put it past her dad to flip on the light.

  Nate waited to open the truck door, settling his hands at her waist instead. “I had a good time. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Zach would have been disappointed if you weren’t here.” She moved a little closer. “I would have been too.”

  “He’s quite the kid.” His hands tightened slightly, drawing her nearer.

  “He thinks the world of you, Nate.” She slid her hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it. “So do I,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop him before he feathered a kiss across her lips. She moved her hands around his neck, and he pulled her against him, kissing her tenderly. His touch was gentle and so sweet that her eyes misted.

  When he finally, but all too soon, raised his head and eased his hold, she brushed aside a tear that had slipped down her cheek.

  “Hey, what’s this?” he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing bad.” She swiped the other eye with her fingertips and smiled up at him. “For my first almost-on-the-front-porch good night kiss, that was really somethin’.”

  He grinned and lightly caressed her cheek. “It was pretty good.”

  “Just pretty good?” Wide-eyed, she tried to see his expression more clearly in the silvery light. He had to be kidding. Nobody had ever kissed her like that. Because nobody has ever cared for you the way he does. Her mouth went dry.

  “Well, I thought it was great, but I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

  That got her attention. She drew in a deep breath. “Nothing?”

  Chuckling, he released her and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I’m digging myself into a hole here.” He shifted and leaned against the pickup, crossing his arms. “Put two and two together, sweetheart.”

  So she did. He said he’d never dated anyone but her. So that meant . . . “You’ve never kissed anybody else?”

  “Give the lady a gold star.”

  “Really? That was your first kiss?”

  Nate groaned. “Jenna, don’t rub it in.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

  “No?” He sounded irritated. And probably embarrassed.

  “No.” She trailed her fingertips along his jaw as she backed away, making a sassy, girlish twirl before she reached the front of the pickup. “I’m thinking if the first one was that great, I have a lot to look forward to.”

  His laughter followed her up the walk and onto the porch. She decided to wait on the steps in the moonlight and wave at him as he drove away. Maybe it would give her flushed cheeks enough time to return to normal.

  16

  Nate settled into a good routine, working with his dad a couple of days a week. They repaired a tractor and made sure the cotton stripper was in top shape. They cleaned out the barn, expanded the fenced area around the chicken coop, and added new shelves in the pantry.

  The rest of the time he was at the ranch, occasionally working on Saturday too. Sunday was the only day off he could count on, but that would have been normal if he’d been full time either place.

  He often ate with the Callahans at noon, unless he was in a pasture on horseback and too far away for an easy ride back. They extended a standing invitation for supper, which he sometimes accepted. He tried not to infringe on the family’s time too much, but it wasn’t easy to bid Jenna and Zach an early good night.

  That might change before long. Her folks had agreed to let her move into her grandparents’ house, but Dub had insisted all the single pane windows be replaced with good insulated double pane ones first. The old windows were fine if someone was only staying there for a few days, but with winter coming on, he didn’t want his grandson and daughter living in a cold house fighting drafts.

  They would all probably still eat with the family most of the time, but he looked forward to spending some longer evenings at Jenna’s place. It was the season to take advantage of quiet times snug and warm inside on cold days, or enjoying a light breeze drifting through an open window on warm ones.

  The first few days after the roundup had been spent herding the cows away from the pasture next to the calves and back to other parts of the ranch. Some of the calves weren’t thrilled with the idea of losing sight of their mamas, but the cows had resigned themselves to the inevitable and were ready to move on.

  Now the work on the ran
ch was more low key and solitary. Riding fences to check for breaks or weak stretches, sometimes on horseback, sometimes in the pickup, was on the agenda. If he found a problem, he fixed it.

  Checking the windmills was also on his list. When he came across a squeaky one, he climbed up the forty or fifty foot tower to oil the head. A lot of cowboys didn’t like the chore, but he enjoyed the view from way up there. And the adrenaline rush. With everything locked down so nothing would turn, he often took his sandwich up with him and ate lunch perched at the top.

  After functioning on adrenaline surges much of the time in Iraq, he needed a charge now and then. Racing a horse full speed across an open stretch was almost as good as climbing the windmill, and more fun. The horses loved it too.

  Other days, he rode the pastures, counting the cattle and checking for any that might be missing, injured, or sick. Dub liked all the pastures checked every day, dividing them up between himself, Will, and the hired hands. In the flatter, open areas they could use pickups, but the more rugged terrain required a horse and rider.

  He and his dad were getting along well. They always had, but working together with his father treating him as an equal was a new and gratifying experience. Just as things had changed some on the ranch, farming techniques had evolved too. His dad was a good teacher, and Nate was a quick study, so there weren’t any major problems.

  The warm weather continued for a couple of weeks until a blue norther blew in late Saturday afternoon and dropped the temperature into the twenties. The timing couldn’t have been better. By then most of the green bolls were open, and the fields were filled with white, fluffy cotton. The freeze killed the leaves on the cotton plants, making them ready to strip without having to use chemicals.

  Sunday remained cold and clear. Nate and his dad hauled the long module builder to the field during the afternoon and parked it in the turn row.

  On Monday morning, they waited for the dew to burn off and for the cotton to dry out completely before starting the harvest. Any dampness could cause fungus to grow in the cotton, which ruined it.

  When they decided the field was ready, Tom drove the huge cotton stripper, leading their little procession. Nate followed on a John Deere tractor, pulling the boll buggy, a big portable basket used to carry the cotton away from the stripper. His mom took the pickup, parking it near the module builder and the tractor used to pull it.