Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars

by Patti Ann Colt

  “Thought you weren’t going to tell me your opinion.” Jess put his tools away, his calmer mood evaporating.

  Shane rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s plain as the star on Lady’s forehead that Amy Rose is your sunrise and sunset. Call the woman, beg forgiveness and go forth and multiply.”

  Jess stopped next to his brother, chaffing at the advice that was so damn close to Sully’s it made him think they’d conspired. Shane had this annoying and manipulative habit of hammering on a body until he heard the answer he wanted. Only this time, Jess couldn’t tell him what he wanted. “I tried. She’s not answering. Figure, she had her reasons for leaving and isn’t ready to talk, yet.”

  “Wrong answer. Go after her.” Shane held up his hands. “Now I’m going to walk away from this conversation before pounding on you.”

  “Try it.” They’d been equally matched since high school so it was debatable who would win.

  Smart man that he was, Shane changed the subject. “Playing poker tonight at the Low Down?”

  Jess closed his eyes and grimaced. He’d just get more lectures from cousin Gifford, and friends Nick and Peyton. On the other hand, none of them missed a Friday night poker game unless dead or on a date with potential benefits. They’d hunt him down and the grief would be doubled. “As long as my love life isn’t a topic of conversation.”

  “What love life?” Shane slapped him on the back and whistled his way out of the barn.

  He stood in the shimmering heat of the dim barn and realized Shane had neatly turned the tables on the conversation. And worse yet, he was right.

  He ran a hand through his hair. Amy Rose, I need you. Call me.

  ∞∞∞∞

  Friday night. Amy Rose stared across the white-clothed, china-laden dinner table, over Miles Justin's left shoulder, to check the time on the antique clock that was artfully arranged on the opposite wall. 8:30 p.m.

  Jess’s poker night.

  He always played and then met her on her back porch around midnight. God, she’d give anything to be back on that porch, holding his callused hand, kissing his warm lips and hearing his rumbling voice in her ear.

  Instead, she was stuck at the dinner table with a calculating grin across from her and trying desperately to ignore the ever-widening ache under her breasts.

  Seems since she calmed down and let the hurt settle, the ache worsened.

  Her brain kept zeroing in on her main issue. Jess hadn’t supported her choices.

  He knew she wasn’t happy taking all the law coursework. The lawyer notion wasn’t a good fit for her and she knew it by the end of the first semester. Even though she had the capability of pulling high grades, the day-to-day grind of coursework rubbed against her future with Jess.

  She’d continued because she’d made a deal with her father and she always chose to take a passive approach to the problem of pleasing him, not wanting to sacrifice their relationship. Jess was more straightforward and would have taken an aggressive approach. That’s when their arguments began and she’d gotten prickly about him not supporting her decisions. Was still prickly.

  Yet, every part of her father’s plan was a moot point now. She wasn’t going to work at the law firm, especially not an eighty hour work week with Miles in an office down the hall, and especially not with a baby on the way.

  Miles turned his wine glass and gazed at her. “When do you want to start studying?”

  Never.

  Amy Rose stifled a sigh and wished her mother would return from the kitchen and her father from an urgent phone call in his home office. That was a setup if ever she’d seen one.

  She took a small sip of her iced tea. “What makes you think I can’t study by myself and pass?”

  His mouth turned up in an indulgent smile. “Oh, I’m sure you can. That’s one thing I always liked about you, Amy Rose. Quick mind and deliciously smart. Among other things.” He let his eyes wander from her lips to her breasts.

  Amy’s stomach rolled and for a moment she wished like hell she could run upstairs and change back into her cotton shorts and soft T-shirt. Instead, she was decked out for dinner in a designer coral shift dress that was too tight and revealed too much cleavage given her dinner companion. She pressed a hand to her stomach. She’d thought she’d dodged this exact awkward situation by begging off dinner two nights ago.

  He winked at her, more than aware she’d caught him staring at her breasts and non-apologetic. She was sure he thought the quirk in his lips was charming and persuasive, but the expression just reminded her how fake he was. He offered because her father had commanded the assistance, and Miles wanted a partnership. No doubt, he would marry her on command, too. There was no illusion on her part what kind of husband the man would be. After Jess, the best of the best of the male species, Miles was not even worth toying with.

  Her stomach tossed and tumbled again. She swallowed harder against the churning and sipped more of her iced tea. “I can study on my own, Miles.”

  “It’s a tough exam, Amy Rose.”

  “Well, if I can’t pass it on my own, then I shouldn’t be allowed to practice law.” She rose from the table. “Excuse me, Miles, I’m going to call it a night. I’m still not feeling well.”

  He glanced at the kitchen doorway as if waiting for her mother to pop up and prevent her departure. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Your mother said you had some kind of bug.”

  And you came anyway. Like a dog on a leash.

  She murmured some insincere nicety and escaped. She took the grand staircase steps two at a time, praying to avoid her father. She locked her bedroom door behind her and went to the bathroom and upchucked her dinner.

  So much for good filet mignon.

  She rose carefully, flushed the toilet and washed out her mouth. She eased onto the bed and closed her eyes. The longing for Copper Canyon rose up with a tidal wave of tears. She let herself fall into the memories, desperately in need of comfort.

  When she’d been fifteen, her father’s health had taken a bad turn on a cancer threat. The doctor had ordered him to focus on fighting the cancer. To her surprise, he’d followed the advice to the letter. He’d taken a leave of absence from his law firm, the firm he’d founded a tumultuous decade prior. The family left their high profile home in the suburbs north of Dallas and relocated to his family’s homestead in Copper Canyon to slow down as the doctor had ordered.

  Amy Rose rolled over and blew her nose, determined to battle down the tears. She’d loved the ranch – still did. The relaxed pace, the country life and the land called to something in her soul. First day of school, she met Jess and fell in typical high school puppy love. She waited all through her sophomore year for any sign that he was interested. While he was friendly, no date invitation was forthcoming.

  By spring, her father had decided that nine months of slow life in Copper Canyon was enough. His cancer had been successfully treated. Her mother was extremely unhappy. So they’d moved back to Dallas and the notion of love and memories of Jess died in the scribbling in her notebooks.

  Except she found herself thinking of Jess thru high school and college and every time she tried to get serious about anyone.

  After her college graduation ceremony, she’d had a nasty argument with her father who demanded she attend law school and take her place in his law firm as his heir and successor. After weeks of an impasse, she’d finally agreed to go only if she could move to the homestead and live full-time. It was a long drive to school, but would allow her the freedom she was craving. He’d finally relented.

  Life in Copper Canyon had been worth every difficulty. She’d met Jess again, was thrilled when he asked her out, and fell harder into adult love.

  She rolled into a sitting position on the bed and reached for the light. She pulled open the drawer in the nightstand and carefully lifted the book Jess had given her for Christmas – Shakespeare’s Love Sonnets with a ribbon in #116. Stopping to put the volume in her bag when still so furious with
him had been pure impulse – one she was glad she’d acted on. She stroked the front cover before lifting open the volume. Inside the front cover, Jess had inscribed the page with a scrawled “Your Jess.” The reminder of sophomore English in high school where she’d first seen Jess brought tears to her eyes. She hugged the book to her as if holding Jess and rocked in place.

  “Dammit. Enough. Amy Rose, get back home where you belong.” She slugged her pillow, rejoicing for once that her stomach wasn’t rebelling. She reached for her cell phone.

  The screen was blank. She pushed the buttons, turned it off and on, but nothing happened. Dead.

  Amy Rose sighed. “Grrrr. Where’s my charger?” She eased out of bed and went searching in her bag. The damn phone had been randomly turning on and off since she’d left Copper Canyon. But, after fiddling for long minutes with plugging it in and trying to turn it on, she gave up.

  “Great. Just great.” She knew Jess’s phone number, but he was at his poker game. She always joked that nothing except a tornado warning would blast them away from the table. She picked up the house extension and dialed Jess’s number anyway. His voice mail answered. Frustrated, she hung up. She dialed the only other number she knew by heart. She had a flash of second thought and almost disconnected before Jess’s mother could answer. Then it was too late.

  “Hello.”

  “Ladonna, it’s Amy Rose.”

  “Oh honey, honey.” The woman sniffed. “I’m so glad you called. I didn’t want to interfere, but I’m missing you something awful, girl.”

  The tears started. “I’ve missed you, too.” Ladonna had two sons and no daughters. From the first, she’d opened her arms and welcomed Amy Rose into the family. They’d been instant close friends, which is more than she could say for her parents and Jess. He definitely got the worse end of the parent stick and the thought gave her pause.

  “I know why you haven’t called. That Jess of mine is being a silly fool.”

  A defense leaped to her tongue. “It’s not his fault. We both said stupid things.”

  “Oh, I understand, honey. These things happen in relationships. Just don’t give up on him. He’s so miserable.”

  The news didn’t make her feel any better. “I’m miserable, too, but we’ve got to work this out ourselves.”

  “I understand, honey. Once your kids get to a certain age, they don’t appreciate interference. I’m afraid I’ve said more than I should. Chase says I’m pushing and I’ve gotta stop.”

  Chase and Ladonna had been married for thirty-five years. Amy Rose adored the strong, burly man for his soft heart and infectious sense of humor.

  “I didn’t mean to cause problems between y’all.” She rubbed her tummy and wished with all her might that she could tell Ladonna about the baby. She was going to be a fabulous grandmother.

  “Oh honey, nothing can stop me from lovin’ my boys with a big ole heart. And nothing can stop me from butting in with my opinion. You know that.”

  Amy smiled. Ladonna’s opinions had always been grounded and honest and steeped in nothing but the purest loving, something she couldn’t say about her own mother.

  She had to find Jess, morning sickness be damned. She loved him, wanted him and obviously her absence had just confounded him. It had been a mistake to come here, a reminder really. She didn’t have the same kind of relationship with her parents that Jess did with his. She felt closer to Ladonna than to any other woman and had from the very first.

  She wiped her cheeks, brushing away the tears. “Well, I called because I’m coming home, back to my place that is. Tonight. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. But my cell phone is dead and he’s at his poker game.”

  Ladonna gushed with delight. “You’re going to give him a second chance to get it right?”

  She fussed with the covers, ashamed of herself for running home in the first place. She knew that had never proven to be a good option. She couldn’t make her parents happy without sacrificing her own wants and needs. She’d know this crossroads was coming, had maneuvered around it for years, playing out as many other options as possible. She took a trembling breath. “I figure he can’t get it right if I’m not there to get it right with. I love Jess. I’m hoping he gives me a second chance to get it right, too.”

  Ladonna squealed in delight. “I’m so glad, honey.”

  “If you see Jess, will you tell him my cell phone isn’t working and I’ll be home soon?”

  “I will, honey. I will.”

  She hung up after a few more minutes, heartened by Ladonna’s reaction. She found her travel bag. Within minutes, she was repacked and ready to leave. She went to the top of the stairs and leaned over the bannister to listen. Her parents and Miles were talking at the dining room table, presumably eating dessert. She went back to her room and drew out a sheet of paper from her desk and scribbled a note for her parents.

  Sneaking down the back stairs and out the side door by the kitchen struck her as a tad juvenile. Still she stayed in the shadows along the sidewalk. The landscaping lights flooded the terraced back yard and pool and were openly visible from the dining room and she didn’t want a confrontation.

  She slipped into the garage by a side door and went to the far end of the six-car area to her convertible. She hit the remote to raise the garage door, praying that the cook didn’t hear the rattle. She settled herself in the driver’s seat, started the engine and drove through the estate gates and down to the security entrance.

  She didn’t breathe until she was on the highway. “Ready or not, Jess. Here I come.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jess stared over the top of his cards at Gifford. Three-of-a-kind, kings high was pretty good hand for him. But Gifford had the dangest luck. He claimed he got it from his mama’s side of the family. Her ancestors had been gypsies and gamblers. Since he and Giff were related by their fathers, Jess couldn’t claim any of that luck as his own. Frankly, he couldn’t see Aunt Fayrene carrying on that family tradition either, but Gifford sure got the skill.

  “Call.” Gifford shoved a matching dollar amount into the large pile in the center of the table.

  Peyton Reed, Jess’s best friend, hooted. “You’re in for it now, Jess. Say goodbye to your money. Again.”

  Shane and Nick Campbell had left the table and gone to the bar to gather more drinks. Sully was leaned back in his chair, feet propped on the opposite empty chair with his eyes closed, catching a snooze while Gifford and Jess went head-to-head over the hand.

  Happened every Friday night.

  Jess would get a deep need to beat Gifford and every time, he went home broke. This time, he was feeling reckless and just a tad pissed, so he’d pushed the round further than normal.

  “Well, what have you got, Jess?” Gifford leaned back in his chair and laid his cards against his chest.

  Jess spread out his three of a kind. “Kings high.”

  Gifford sat forward. “Nice hand.”

  His grin made Jess groan deep down, but he kept his poker face.

  “Full house.” Giff spread his cards across the table.

  Jess made a face, then tossed the cards to the table. “I’m tapped. Dammit, man, you do this to me every Friday.”

  Gifford gathered the winnings. “You fall for it every Friday.”

  Shane and Nick returned to the table and deposited another round of drinks. Gifford collected the cards and began to shuffle.

  Sully cracked an eye. “Are we done with our Friday night Gifford-out-plays-Jess round?”

  Jess took a drink and stayed silent. This routine ran the same every week and the sameness chaffed as much as it comforted. He was too damn predictable, a comfortable country cowboy chasing after a thoroughbred filly. He’d lost out through his own cussed stubborn stupidity, on an argument he started, and then chose to hang with a sorry ass bunch of guys who had the same problem.

  Why did everything have to come back around to Amy Rose? He wished he could get past the
lump lodged in his throat. He wasn’t choked up, he just needed another drink.

  He swallowed a healthy dose of his beer and reached for his wallet, fishing out another forty. “Deal her up.”

  Sully’s feet hit the floor. “What? Jess going past his set limit? Where’s the snow?”

  Shane looked ready to open his mouth, so Jess stepped into the silence.

  “One, I’m not ready to go home. Two, it’s my money. I can change my limit any time I want.” He was defensive and didn’t care. These guys knew why he was raising his normal ante and he dared any one of them to say something.

  Gifford, the smartest of the bunch, shuffled silently and dealt. Of course, he would. He went home every week with a good portion of Jess’s money in his pocket. He had his eye on the forty dollars on the table.

  Nick pulled out a chair and entered the fray. “You really ought to go find Amy Rose and beg, man. You’re miserable.”

  “Says the man who is divorced.” Jess bit off the rest. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

  Nick shrugged and gave Jess a bland look. “Truth. Worst mistake I ever made.”

  “Women,” Peyton muttered, well past his way to drunk. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t leave ‘em behind.”

  Jess raised his brow. “You haven’t had one girl you’ve stuck with. Who are you talking about?”

  “Just being philo…philo…sophical.” Peyton burped. “Don’t think the lot of them are worth the interruption of a good poker game. He shoved his cards at Giff to indicate he was out.

  “Don’t think anyone would define this as a good poker game. Not when Giff goes home with all the money.” Shane reached in and picked up the cards Giff had dealt.

  Nick handed his cards back to Giff, too. “I’m out. Going to take knockhead here home.” He shoved Peyton’s drink away from him. “You’re done, pal.”

  Peyton leaned back in his chair and nearly slid off the edge. He twisted his head and gave Nick a confused look. “Man, I’m drunk.”