Something Sweeter

by Candis Terry

  “That’s nice of them. Your brother’s a firefighter, right?”

  He nodded. “He’s studying to move up in the ranks.”

  “I always thought my brother-­in-­law would choose firefighting over law enforcement.” A frown pulled her delicate brows together.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Both jobs are dangerous. But in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve always thought he was more of a rescuer. He’s often been my go-­to guy for advice I was afraid to ask my dad. He’s always been Johnny-­on-­the-­spot when it comes to helping someone out.

  “When we were in high school, he often included me in their activities—­much to my sister’s dismay.”

  “Sounds like a decent guy.”

  “He’s great.” She gave him a smile that revealed her deep admiration. “So what made you want to be a veterinarian?”

  He hesitated. Only those closest to him knew the reason. It wasn’t something he liked to share. Mostly because it made him look like a pansy ass.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Just trying to figure out a response that will earn me Brownie points with you.”

  She laughed. “Just tell me the truth.”

  “You’ll take away my man card.”

  “Just tell me. I promise I won’t laugh.”

  Time would tell.

  “Blame it on a cat.” He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel and sighed. “Since I was a kid, I’ve always been used to seeing things city kids don’t see. Like branding, artificial insemination, castration.”

  “Eeew.”

  “Yeah. Definitely not for the weak-­stomached.” He chuckled. “So you’d think not much would bother me. Not true. When I was about eight, I found this little gray kitten in the barn. The mother cat had pushed it aside for whatever reason, and I knew if I didn’t do something, it would die. I got my dad and Jared, who knew the most about stuff like that. We made a makeshift bottle and milked one of the goats. Jared and I sat up all night trying to feed this little tiny thing and keep it warm and alive. I tucked her inside my shirt next to my heart. Somehow she survived. In fact, she lived to be old and crotchety. But that first night when I was trying so hard to keep her little heart pumping? That’s when I knew I wanted to help as many animals as possible.”

  “Awwww.” Her expression softened as she reached over and touched his arm. And that touched something deep inside him. “That’s so sweet.”

  “Yeah. And if you tell anyone, I’ll have to hurt you.”

  “I promise I won’t say a word.” She crossed two fingers across her chest. “Unless someone offers me a million dollars.”

  He pulled the keys from the ignition. “Good to know you can be bought off.”

  “But I don’t come cheap.” She glanced out the window. “So, where are your brother and Abby building a house?”

  “Wilder Ranch.”

  Her perfect brows lifted. “You all live on Wilder Ranch?”

  “Why would we want to be anywhere else?”

  “It’s a great big world out there,” she said. “There are some fascinating places to choose from. In fact, I just had a friend, who’s lived in Seattle all her life, move to Paris.”

  “Texas?”

  “There’s a Paris in Texas?”

  “Yep. They even made a movie about it.”

  “Imagine that,” she said. “My friend moved to Paris, France, to indulge herself in the lifestyle, the iconic landmarks, and the arts.”

  “Well, that must be nice for her if she wasn’t content where she was at. Me? I’m happy looking at good old American soil, cattle, and barns as big as they come.”

  “So you’d never want to live anywhere else?”

  “I’ve spent plenty of time on foreign soil. And if my boots never touch it again, I’m good.” He expected a snappy comeback; instead, she surprised him.

  “I guess I can understand that,” she said. “Especially when you probably had to spend a lot of that time trying to stay alive.”

  “That is a fact.”

  “I always wonder if our soldiers understand how thankful we are.”

  “It sometimes gets lost in the heat of battle.”

  “Back in the States, I know it’s easy to go on about your day and forget what’s happening half a world away. To forget the sacrifices our soldiers and their families make. I can’t imagine how difficult it might be. Especially when you suffer such a loss as your brother. So . . . thank you.”

  Jesse looked up and caught the sincerity in her eyes. The sentiment touched him in a place he hadn’t allowed to be touched in a long time. “I appreciate that.”

  Warm as honey, a smile lingered on her lips long enough for him to think about changing his mind and pulling her into his arms. But there was no time. He was on a mission. And personal satisfaction was not in his deck of cards.

  “So what about you?” he asked. “You ever think of leaving Seattle?”

  Her slender shoulders lifted beneath that pretty dress. “Never gave it much thought. I was born and raised there. Almost everyone I know lives there.”

  “Except your dad.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “Except him.”

  “You miss him.”

  “I do. At first, I wondered what brought him here.”

  “Haven’t you ever asked him?”

  “I finally did last night. And now I realize it’s not so much about what brought him here as it is what drove him here. He needed to find some peace in his life. He needed a change. And I’m sure there’s more.”

  “Such as?”

  “My mother.” She gazed out the windshield. “She’s gone through five husbands—­all wealthy—­and yet she can’t stop trying to wring every last drop from my dad.”

  “Why?”

  “Clearly she’s selfish and greedy. And clearly I shouldn’t be talking about her like this without her here to defend herself.”

  “So maybe the real question is can she defend herself?”

  “Probably not.” She sighed. “My dad was always the caregiver. He was the one Danielle and I ran to when we needed comfort. Which is why . . .”

  “You feel the need to protect him.”

  “Yeah. No offense to your mom, but my dad has gone through some tough times. I just want him to be happy.”

  “That makes you a good daughter.”

  A smile quivered at the corners of her lips. “I try.”

  Something in this woman’s past had really done a number on her. And since she’d be leaving in just a few days, there wouldn’t be enough time to figure it all out. Which raised the question . . . why did he feel the need to know?

  “Guess we should go on inside,” he said, even while he knew he’d like nothing more than to sit right there all night and get to know her better.

  “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got up your sleeve.”

  It wasn’t what was up his sleeve that she needed to worry about.

  When she reached for the door handle, he said, “Wait.” In a flash, he was out of the truck, opening her door, and holding out his hand.

  She looked at him like he was ten kinds of crazy.

  He’d bet on twenty.

  Those intriguing gray eyes narrowed just slightly. “What are you doing?”

  “Being the Southern gentleman my mother raised me to be so I don’t get my ass kicked.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of opening my own door.”

  “Apparently you missed the ass-­kicking part of what I just said.”

  “I promise. Your mother will never know.”

  “See that house behind me? The one we are about to walk into?”

  “Yes.”

  “There are two ­people in that house who are right now spying through the lace curtains and watchin
g every move we make. If I don’t display every ounce of chivalry and Southern hospitality I was raised with, they will spread the word all over town. Without a doubt, that word will hit my mother’s ears, and I will never hear the end of it.” He moved his hand closer to her. “So please. Spare me the agony.”

  “Well . . .” She laughed and put her hand in his while he fought the desire to pull her in close. “Far be it from me to set you up for an ass-­kicking. Although that might be fun to watch.”

  “No. It’s ugly. Believe me.”

  As they walked up the sidewalk together, he fought the urge to reach down and take her hand. He didn’t know what was wrong with him and why he was having all these touchy-­feely urges. He only knew he’d have to get it under control now and figure it out later. Still, he couldn’t help be aware of every gentle sway of her hips, the sweet scent that reached out to him, the lavender polish on her toes, the smoothness of her skin.

  “Sounds like you have a lot of experience in the ass-­kicking department,” she said, looking up at him.

  “You have no idea.”

  Before he could ring the bell, the door flew open, and there stood the two little blue-­hairs who’d agreed to help him bring clarity to Allison’s doubtful nature.

  “Hello, hunkalicious!” Gladys Lewis, a fireball in orthopedic shoes, wore a slash of bright red lipstick that clashed with her silvery blue cotton-­ball hair. She threw her arms around him and gave him a hug that stole his breath.

  “My turn!” Arlene Potter, with her elderly girth hidden beneath a floral muumuu, shoved aside Gladys, wrapped her crepey arms around his middle, and squeezed. “God, I love a man in uniform.”

  “You crazy old broad,” Gladys said, “He’s not in a uniform.”

  Arlene gave him a wink. “Saw him once in those dress blues.” She tapped her finger against her temple. “Still got the memory locked in right here.”

  Jesse didn’t know what was more uncomfortable, that eighty-­year-­old Arlene thought of him like that, or the repulsed glare Allison shot at him. Like he had any kind of control over Arlene’s wayward thoughts? Hardly.

  For pure survival reasons, he prayed the remainder of the evening would go a whole lot smoother than the beginning.

  “This is Allison, Martin’s daughter,” he said. “The one I told you about.”

  That little comment received a lift of Allison’s perfectly arched brows before she was yanked into an exuberant hug by Gladys.

  “Well, aren’t you just a beauty,” Gladys said. “Figured so, with your daddy being such a looker.”

  After pleasantries—­or in this case, oddities—­were exchanged, he and Allison followed the two golden girls inside the cozy little bungalow. They were ushered into the dining room, where a spread of cookies and cupcakes was laid out on the table. Apparently, the ladies had spent a lot of time baking that afternoon.

  Although Jesse appreciated their caloric efforts, his main goal was for Arlene and Gladys to convince Allison that it would be to her benefit to believe, or at least consider, the fact that true love existed and relationships were meant to last. And that marriage was not an evil plan to strike terror in the hearts of those who chose to participate in the tradition.

  “Have a seat, handsome.” Gladys pulled out the chair next to hers.

  Arlene had other ideas. “He’s sitting by me.”

  To his surprise and delight, Allison jumped in and saved the day by plunking down in a seat across the table and patting the chair next to hers. “I apologize, ladies. Jesse promised to be my”—­she flashed them a wink—­“escort for the evening. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Oh, that’s fine,” Gladys said with a wave of her hand. “He’s probably too young for either of us anyway.”

  Probably?

  “Speak for yourself.” Arlene folded her arms.

  Ignoring her friend’s pout, Gladys poured sweet tea with a clink of ice into tall glasses, then passed around the cupcake-­and-­cookie platters. Jesse, who hadn’t eaten since breakfast, helped himself to probably more than was polite. Allison went the well-­mannered course and only took one slightly overdone sugar cookie.

  “So, Allison . . .” Gladys, the queen of mincing no words, jumped right into the matter at hand. “Jesse here tells us that you’ve got a bit of a problem with your father’s getting married to Jana.”

  Allison speared him with a glare.

  He shoved a cookie in his mouth to stay out of trouble.

  “I think what he meant to say,” Allison tried to politely explain, “was I have a problem with marriage overall. Statistics show—”

  “Statistics?” Arlene gulped down a good amount of sweet tea, then returned the glass to the table with a thunk. “Horse pucky.”

  Jesse glanced across the table at Gladys and noted a peculiar pink to her cheeks. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the two spry seniors had tipped the bottle a little earlier in the day.

  “Harold—bless his heart—and I were married for more than forty-­nine and a half years before he passed,” Gladys said. “Missed our fiftieth anniversary by just two months.”

  “And Arnie and I were married for fifty-­three years before he passed,” Arlene said. “I was a child bride.” She batted her eyelashes at Jesse.

  Allison managed to keep her smirk at a minimum as she asked, “So how did you two manage to stay together for so long? What’s the secret?”

  “Oh, there’s no secret.” Arlene pushed the cookie platter in Jesse’s direction. “Have another cookie, handsome. We need to keep your energy up.”

  He didn’t want to know for what. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  “You just need to be patient,” Gladys explained. “Understanding. If you know going in that the man is going to walk around in his skivvies, make gross body noises, and growl every time the mortgage is due, you know what to expect. Then it’s not a surprise, and you figure a way to work around it.”

  Gladys then leaned in closer. “Like once in a while, you just need to take a little sip from that bottle of cooking sherry.”

  Okay. Not the conversation Jesse had intended Allison to hear.

  “Good sex,” Arlene blurted out. “That’s the secret. Otherwise, you got nothing. For every dirty pair of overalls I washed, Arnie knew he had to take care of me. If you know what I mean.” Arlene winked at Jesse. “And I’m sure you do.”

  “Ladies!” Sweat dampened Jesse’s forehead. “How about we get back to all those special things that made your relationships last for fifty years? You and your husbands surely loved each other and were close.”

  “Close?” Gladys glanced away. “Not really.”

  “Arnie and I were close when it counted.” Arlene winked again. “If you know what I mean.”

  “Is sex all you ever think about?” Gladys huffed.

  “What else is there?” Arlene took another slug of her sweet tea and coughed.

  Jesse picked up his own untouched glass and sniffed. Yep. Spiked.

  “You never complained,” Arlene said, “but I’m guessing old Harold was a dud in the hay.”

  “Pfft.” Gladys waved a hand. “He spent more time out on the range than he ever did with me. Always complained he was”—­she made air quotes—­“too tired. Isn’t that supposed to be the woman’s line?”

  “You got to take care of yourself, Gladys. They got that special section in the back of the lingerie boutique.” Arlene winked at Jesse again. “You know which one I’m talking about.”

  Okay, this conversation was going to hell on a racehorse.

  Jesse glanced at Allison, who, guessing by the smile playing on her lips, was highly entertained. She even threw him a look that had Seriously? written all over it.

  “Well, ladies.” Jesse scooted his chair back and stood. “I apologize, but we’ve got to get going. I promised Allison I’d take
her to dinner.”

  “Oh?” Gladys looked surprised.

  “What’s your hurry, handsome?” Arlene pushed his glass of sweet tea closer. “You didn’t finish your drink.”

  He had a feeling that if he had even a few sips of whatever was in that glass, he’d be pounding back a hangover come morning.

  “And it’s just a darned shame we won’t be able to stay,” he said. “I know Allison really looked forward to just sitting back sipping and talking tonight. Weren’t you?”

  Luckily, she picked up on his please rescue me tone.

  “Absolutely.” She lifted her glass. Sipped. Then coughed so hard he had to whack her on the back, so she didn’t choke to death.

  She looked up at him with tears of laughter in her eyes. He reached down, took her arm, and helped her from the chair.

  “We’re meeting some friends at Sweet Pickens for dinner,” he lied.

  Allison looked up. “We are?”

  He tossed her a look that begged her to go along.

  “Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “I forgot. Yes. Unfortunately, we really do need to get going.”

  “Well that’s just too darned bad.” Arlene looked truly disappointed, and, for a flash, Jesse felt guilty for lying. But then she ran her hand down his forearm and squeezed. “You come back anytime.”

  “We will.” When the rivers in hell flowed with ice water.

  “You don’t be so hard on Jana, now,” Gladys said to Allison. “She’s a special woman.”

  “I understand.” Allison gave them a compassionate smile. “It’s not my intention to make anything personal.”

  “Well, that’s your problem, honey.” Gladys guffawed. “Everything’s personal. Especially here in Sweet.”

  Jesse figured he should probably explain to Allison how things worked around there. But right now, all he wanted was to be gone.

  With abbreviated good-­byes, they finally climbed back up in his truck. He glanced at the clock. What had felt like a several-­hour visit had actually only lasted a half hour.

  Allison’s chuckle turned into giggles. “Well that was fun.”