Jesse

by C. H. Admirand

  His brothers grinned at one another, and Tyler drawled, “It’ll cost you, Bro.”

  It was after ten when they dropped off the car.

  Chapter 4

  Riding to her uncle’s house, Danielle was thinking about how much her life had changed since the last time she’d stayed with her uncle. She’d finished school, graduated with honors, met and married the love of her life, and was a mom.

  But what she’d felt for her ex paled in comparison to the residual effect the tall, dark, and handsome cowboy who’d rescued them had on her. But right now wasn’t a good time to let herself be distracted by another cowboy. She had more important things in her life to worry about now: Lacy, first and foremost. Everything else just wasn’t important.

  But the dark-eyed, dreamy cowboy filled her mind again, and for a brief moment, she wondered what it would be like to be held in his arms again. That brief touch, when he’d reached out to save Lacy from falling out of Danielle’s arms, was imprinted on her heart. He’d been strong, solid, and larger than life—heaven help her, it felt as if they belonged there.

  But there were things to consider, other than where she’d begin if she had Jesse all to herself for just ten minutes… you could pack a lifetime into ten minutes. But would she really have the nerve to ask him to park his boots under her bed? The image of his broad-shouldered frame standing in the doorway to her bedroom had her breath catching and her heart tumbling.

  “Mommy?” Lacy tugged on her sleeve. “When will we get there?”

  Danielle buried the image and glanced over at her uncle. “Five minutes?” She waited for a sign from him that she had been right.

  He smiled. “You still remember.”

  She reached across Lacy’s head to lay her hand on his forearm. “I spent the best summers of my life here with you.”

  It had always been that easy for her; their relationship had been based on love and trust from the time she was old enough to toddle into his waiting arms… and then he fed her pie. Life without pie wasn’t any kind of life at all. For those that hadn’t experienced manna from heaven—aka Sullivan’s chocolate pie à la mode—it was something that could not be explained. One had to experience firsthand the taste sensation of flaky perfection filled with smooth chocolatey goodness, finished off with his special whipped topping, a combination of crème fraîche—which tastes similar to sour cream but not quite as sour—and heavy cream.

  Perfection. There just wasn’t anything else that she could think of to explain the tasty goodness and sensation of the chocolate filling melting on her tongue.

  “Mommy?” Lacy asked as they turned onto the familiar road.

  “Yes, sweet pea?”

  “Can we go to the Circle G tonight? I wanna see cowboy Jesse.”

  Her heart stopped, then slowly, painfully, started beating again. Why should the mere mention of the man’s name affect her? She swallowed and shook her head. “Not tonight. Jesse had work to do and didn’t have time to give us a tour of the ranch, remember?”

  Lacy’s sigh was loud enough to have Danielle and her uncle looking at one another and grinning. “But I wanna learn to ride a horse.”

  Danielle was amazed that Lacy remembered the name of Jesse’s ranch but not surprised; her daughter listened to everyone and everything around her, sometimes hearing things Danielle wished she hadn’t. Hoping to redirect Lacy’s line of questioning, she asked, “How about if we promise to visit Jesse out at his ranch, but wait for him to call us?”

  “Do you know his number?”

  Danielle laughed, while her uncle asked, “Little June bug, do you always pester your momma like that?”

  Lacy stopped squirming on the seat and gave her undivided attention to her great-uncle.

  “I just want to see him again, Unca Jimmy.”

  “I’ve known him a lot of years and am pleased to say that he has worked hard to overcome the first impression I had of him.”

  “Really?” Danielle asked. “What did he do to give you a bad impression?”

  He smiled and shook his head as he pulled into the driveway.

  Since he wasn’t going to answer, she reminded Lacy, “Besides, it isn’t polite to just show up somewhere without an invitation.” She hoped that would be the end of it, but the man was a definite distraction.

  “But he did invite us, ’member?”

  Danielle sighed. Obviously she wasn’t the only one captivated by their cowboy hero. “He did, but he also said he’d pick us up. So let’s just wait for him to call us, OK?”

  “We’re here,” her uncle announced, getting out of his truck.

  Danielle and Lacy slid across the seat and got out, walking hand-in-hand up the front porch steps. A wave of nostalgia swept up from her toes, and from an adult point-of-view, she realized just how wonderful it had been to be able to spend summer vacations in Pleasure, her home away from home.

  “Why don’t you ladies go on in and make yourselves at home?” Her uncle grabbed the two bags they had brought with them.

  “You’ve already made us feel that way,” Danielle reminded him. “How about if I see what’s in your fridge and decide what to make you for dinner? You’ve been cooking since sunup, haven’t you?”

  His grin said it all and transported her back in time. No matter what happened during those long days of summer, he had the patience of a saint and a smile that would set hearts aflutter—well, at least that was what some of the ladies downtown used to say.

  “How come you never married?”

  He paused on the stairs and looked over his shoulder. “No one asked me.” Laughing, he made his way to the second floor. He’d probably put their things in the back bedroom, where the morning sun would peek in their window and wake them.

  “How come nobody asked Unca Jimmy to marry them?” Lacy was frowning up at her. “I like him.”

  “I don’t know. He is a good man and would make a good husband.” Opening the fridge, she contemplated the contents and decided she would pick up some groceries for her uncle in the morning. Tonight, they’d feast on leftovers. Pulling a few containers out, she was surprised to see Lacy staring at the staircase.

  “Hey, don’t worry, sweet pea,” she soothed, setting the food on the counter. “We’ll be all right.”

  “I was thinking ’bout Daddy,” she said without turning around. “Was he a good husband?”

  Danielle paused to consider her words carefully. She didn’t want to say something that her little girl would misconstrue. Her relationship with her ex had been difficult toward the end, but he was still Lacy’s father. Walking over to where Lacy stood, she knelt down so they were eye level. “He was the best he knew how to be. We can’t ever ask anyone to do more.”

  Her daughter seemed satisfied with the answer. “Maybe Unca Jimmy wanted to bake pies and sell them more than he wanted to be married.”

  Relieved that Lacy understood, she agreed. “He makes the best pie.”

  “The secret is in the crust,” his deep voice called out from the top of the stairs. “You two look as if you are either plotting to take over the world,” he said, walking into the kitchen, “or planning to meddle in my life.”

  “We were talking about Daddy.”

  “Ah.” He looked at the containers lining the countertop and then back at Danielle and Lacy. “Hungry, ladies?”

  Grateful for the distraction, Danielle answered, “Well, not really, but I thought it would help to know what I could either heat up or cook for dinner. You worked at the diner half the day, it’s my turn.”

  “You know, Lacy,” her uncle said, turning toward his grandniece, “this is just one of the things I love about your mommy—her willingness to pitch right in and get to work.”

  Lacy scrunched her face up and Danielle knew her daughter was considering her uncle’s words. “Mommy always works hard, Daddy says too hard.” When she grew quiet and frowned, Danielle knew it was time for a major distraction. Lacy had already cried buckets when her ex walked out of t
heir lives. She would do everything in her power to keep a smile on her daughter’s face.

  The promised trip to visit the Circle G would be perfect, now if only the cowboy would keep his word. Hope blossomed in Danielle’s heart. It was a good start.

  ***

  Jesse wandered out to the barn to make sure the horses were bedded down for the night. A rancher always took good care of his animals, especially the mount who worked with him every day, all day. He remembered a couple of ranch hands who had worked for his grandfather when he was younger, who hadn’t followed along with old Hank’s rules about caring for the Circle G’s horses.

  Once a ranch hand broke a rule, he was gone, no second chances. As far as his grandfather was concerned, if you didn’t take proper care of the horse you rode, you could take your sorry hide elsewhere and find work. Funny thing was, once a ranch hand was let go from the Circle G, no one else would hire him—or ask why he was let go. The town of Pleasure respected Patrick Henry Garahan. It was that simple. Hank had let the ranch hand go and that was reason enough not to hire him.

  Jesse had checked the horses earlier but made the rounds one last time. “Plenty of fresh water,” he said aloud to Dodge. His horse whinnied softly, pushing against Jesse’s shoulder. He reached out and stroked the broad handsome face that watched him, the wisdom of the ages in his luminous, dark eyes.

  He always felt better after talking to his horse. “I can’t help but be jealous of my brothers.” Dodge nudged him again. “How do I know I haven’t already met ‘the one’ and lost her?” Slumping his shoulders he turned to go, but his horse had other ideas, grabbing the back of Jesse’s worn cotton shirt with his equine teeth.

  Momentarily confused, he stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. The sound of fabric tearing had him sighing. “Damn it, Dodge,” he grumbled. “That was my last clean shirt.” Knowing his horse had an irascible temperament—just like his own—he retraced his steps and scratched the horse behind his ears. When he butted up against Jesse’s chest, he knew what Dodge wanted—more one-on-one time. With no other chores left for the night, he gave his horse his full attention.

  “Are you sure you weren’t female in a former life?”

  The horse snorted and Jesse laughed as Dodge bathed Jesse’s face with hot, moist horse-breath. He remembered the first time he sat on a horse, his grandfather had lifted him up to sit in front of his dad in the saddle. Jesse had known right there and then that no matter where in Texas he lived, he would always own at least one horse. His life wouldn’t be worth spit if he didn’t have one of those strong, graceful, hardworking animals in his life.

  Thinking about riding with his dad had him smiling and suddenly his mind detoured and settled on a little pink cowgirl who waited all her life to meet a real cowboy. Still stroking the blaze between Dodge’s eyes, Jesse’s mind changed direction and settled on a sweetly curved divorcée with tawny blonde hair and soft blue eyes. “Trouble ahead, Dodge,” he murmured, giving his horse one last pat.

  “Just because I saved Danielle from serious injury earlier today is no reason to be thinking about her.” But while he walked through the barn, double-checking latches on the stalls, his thoughts kept returning to the two damsels in distress who’d fallen asleep on the truck ride over to Sullivan’s Diner. He slowly grinned, remembering the sound of their soft snores filling the cab of his truck. Struck by the thought that he wanted to see them again, he started going over the next day’s never-ending list of chores in his head, all the while wondering how he could wheedle a chunk of time out of his day to drive on into town to pick them up… because he couldn’t wait to show them around the Circle G tomorrow.

  His head told him to slow down, but his heart told him to downshift and gas it, because even though there were dangerous curves ahead, he knew they’d be sugar-sweet and just ripe for the tasting. “Whoa!” he mumbled aloud coming to a halt. “Hell.” That’s what women were on your heart, and other parts of your body, once they moved on to greener pastures. That was the one lesson he learned when Lori left him for the second time.

  Walking back over to the house, he decided he wasn’t ready to turn in yet, so he settled on the porch swing and gently pushed off. The soothing motion, moving back and forth in the cool night air, was just what he needed. He remembered the night and the fight that had smashed the slats of the bench apart. He was glad Dylan had been able to repair the gift their father had built for their mother before he’d been deployed; if he hadn’t, the guilt would have eaten them both alive.

  Life was precious. He and his brothers had learned as children that it didn’t matter if you were ready for what lay ahead of you or not; sometimes life came at you with both barrels, and as his grandfather often said, “Best you be ready, boys.”

  But was he ready for the subtle changes a certain divorcée and her little girl might make in his life? His body stood at attention and said, Hell yeah, but his heart put up both hands and said, Whoa!

  Distracted, disturbed, and discouraged, Jesse stopped swinging. “A cold one would be good right now.”

  As he walked to the back door, a feminine moan of ecstasy drifted toward him on the night breeze. He gritted his teeth and reached for the door. He missed the soft touch of a woman but it probably wouldn’t kill him. Admitting that it had been a while longer than either of his brothers thought wouldn’t happen in this lifetime. After all, a Garahan had his pride to think of—that and his reputation in certain circles in town.

  He slammed the back door and felt perversely better for having given it an extra push. Grabbing a hold of the refrigerator door handle, he yanked and pulled it open. He knew he should calm down, but the frustration had been building inside of him for about a month now. He’d known something was up, but Lori hadn’t wanted to confide in him… and then she was gone.

  Opening the bottle, he tipped his head back and drained a third of the bottle in one big gulp. “Damn shame that I couldn’t have fallen in love with someone like Emily or Ronnie.”

  Thinking about the two newest additions to their life out at the Circle G, he wondered if he would have noticed someone special. He’d been so hung up wanting someone he couldn’t have that he probably wouldn’t have noticed if the woman came wrapped in a bow with a note that said, “I’m the one you’ve been waiting for.”

  Snickering, he lifted the beer to his lips and sipped. The cool, yeasty flavor had his taste buds cheering. Sometimes there wasn’t anything better than a cold longneck.

  The breathy moans were getting louder. Shaking his head, he drained the rest of his beer. “Gotta find me a woman—fast, before I lose my friggin’ mind!”

  Trudging up the stairs, he headed to his room. A shaft of moonlight lent an eerie glow to the darkness, and he could just make out the balled-up sleeping bag on his bed. Why bother to put clean sheets on the damned bed if he wasn’t sharing it with anyone? Only women cared about that kind of thing. Well, now that the ladies had moved out to the ranch, his brothers had started to care too.

  “I don’t,” he repeated loudly enough to be heard down the hallway if his brothers had been listening—which he was certain they weren’t. They were too preoccupied. “God, I’m going crazy. Do. Not. Go. There.”

  Heaving a sigh of resignation tinged with frustration, he smoothed out the sleeping bag and zipped it shut so it would lay flat. He’d have to wash his sheets eventually; for now, the sleeping bag would do. It was too hot to sleep inside of it, but it would be more comfortable than the old mattress he never had the time or funds to replace; its lumps were hard to ignore. Most nights he was too tired to notice, but tonight, he wasn’t tired and they sure as hell would keep him awake.

  Pulling the T-shirt over his head, he tried not to think about being the only Garahan presently sleeping alone. His frustration level wasn’t at the critical point yet, but he had a feeling the more time he spent around Danielle, the higher it would go. She had curves in all the right places.

  Hell, one thought led to another
and pretty soon he was hard, hot, and horny. “Damn.” He hadn’t had a case of SBS in a long time. Snickering, he remembered the first time Tyler used the phrase when they were teenagers and it had been especially true; Sperm Backup Syndrome wasn’t pretty, and the reason he was so grouchy lately. The need to find a willing woman speared through his insides, twisting his guts and other parts into knots.

  Unzipping his jeans, he stepped out of them, leaving them right where he could reverse the movement at first light—saved time getting ready in the morning.

  Naked and aching, he rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t just ride into town and pick up the first woman I see and ask her to do a little mattress dancing.”

  “Sure you can,” the devil on his right shoulder said, poking him in the cheek with his pointy, red pitchfork.

  “No you can’t,” the angel on his left shoulder insisted, plucking a soothing note on his tiny golden harp.

  Man, he was insane. “Damn. Too bad this wasn’t the good old days, when a man could do whatever he wanted and damn the consequences.”

  But his mama, and then his grandfather, raised him right, and he knew he couldn’t or wouldn’t even try. He’d had sex for the sake of release, and while it felt really great at the time, there was just something missing. Then, he’d thought he’d found the perfect woman… but it turned out Lori only wanted to be friends. After meeting Danielle and Lacy, he wanted to spend more time with them. Who knew where it might lead?

  He crawled onto the bed. With a sigh, he settled on his back, stacking his hands beneath his head. The shaft of moonlight wasn’t as wide as it had been before. It was getting late if the moon was moving beyond his bedroom window.

  “Women!” Rolling over, he pushed up off the bed, punched his pillow a couple of times, and settled on his side. Exhausted from a hard day working the ranch, Jesse closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep, but the pretty blonde with eyes the color of cornflowers had him rolling back onto his back.