Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars

by Patti Ann Colt

  Ladonna came out the back door and bustled down the steps. “You’re home! You’re home! I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Mama, Amy Rose hasn’t had breakfast and she’s about to pass out. Think we could feed her?” He released her to his mother’s hug.

  “Of course we can. Come on in the kitchen. You are looking a bit pale.

  “It’s the heat.” She gave him a wan smile. “Are you coming to?”

  “I could use a cup of coffee and a couple pancakes.” He slipped his hand in hers and squeezed. He noted the approval in his mother’s eye and wished it was based on truth not hope.

  They flanked Amy Rose as they walked up to the porch, and inside he excused himself and went to wash his hands. He stood in the bathroom for a minute and listened to the two women chatter like old dear friends. He’d never really expected that. He’d always thought his family would accept whoever he brought home. But to have his wife be so close to his mother was a bonus.

  He wished like hell he could say those type of feelings were reciprocated towards her parents, but Amy Rose’s mother was about money and appearances and got on his last nerve. Her father was about power and position, two things Jess had no use for. Neither one of them had a warm spot in their heart for him.

  He walked into the kitchen and Amy Rose was at the table, a glass of juice in front of her. Her eyes reflected a pool of hurt which just made him want to hold her and say forget the argument, but he couldn’t let himself do that.

  She rubbed her stomach and concern pushed him to the table. She looked up at him and flashed him a tentative smile.

  He sat next to her, giving in to the need to rub her shoulders. “You feel okay, honey?”

  “Just dehydrated, I think.” She took a sip of juice and glanced over at his mother. His mother was bustling around, mixing the batter for pancakes and dumping hash browns in the frying pan. “We need to talk.”

  His stomach seized. In his experience, that phrase coming from your girlfriend was a bad omen. “Yes, we do. I’m sorry about walking out last night.” He rubbed a hand through his hair, stifling any other words, because at this point it was only piling on.

  “Come to dinner tonight. Just us. Seven?”

  “Okay.” He watched her sip her way through her juice, damning the awkwardness between them and the presence of his mother. Both made conversation impossible.

  His mother was able to discern most situations with wise astuteness. She set food in front of them both and began to chatter about the wildfires, church and Shane’s new work schedule that seemed to have him from visiting on a regular basis.

  Jess carefully avoided the Shane-with-his-secret-girlfriend minefield by keeping pancakes in his mouth and watching Amy Rose. Tiredness washed over him along with a bit of sympathy for how she was feeling. He needed a nap, preferably wrapped around her, but knew he wasn’t going to get that one.

  His mother rose to clear their plates and he took the opportunity to slide a private word in.

  “Am I allowed to stay over tonight?”

  Amy Rose gave him an exasperated look. “When have you ever had to ask?”

  “All things considered, I figured I should maybe do so and not assume.”

  He expected her to smile and give him a nod, not have a perplexed “who are you” look. She gave a deep sigh filled with emotion he didn’t want to decipher.

  He took a deep breath, searching for patience. “We’ll talk tonight.”

  She rose. “Thanks for breakfast, Ladonna. I needed that.”

  His mother paused in her load of the dishwasher. “You’re welcome, honey. Come back later and we’ll have a girl chat.”

  “I’ll try.” Her hand slid across his shoulder for a brief moment and she slipped out the door.

  His mother let out a huff. “Are you going to let her go like that? Didn’t I teach you any manners? Walk her to her car.”

  Jess stood and slammed his hat on his head. “Thanks for breakfast, Mom, but I got this, okay?”

  He heard her mutter something under her breath, but was pretty sure he didn’t want to know what it was.

  Amy Rose was driving away by the time he got to the driveway.

  ∞∞∞∞

  This pregnancy thing sucked. Not the end result, but the getting there. Amy Rose wrestled a bag of groceries from the car to the kitchen and struggled against no energy, a queasy stomach and a mass of anxiety. She’d ditched the new cell phone idea when she discovered the store full of people. Grocery shopping had taxed every ounce of perseverance she’d had against feeling lousy and the heat. Traffic on the way home had been snarled and patience sucking.

  She still had to cook and to shower and set a special scene to tell Jess about the baby. She wanted it to be something they both would remember despite their differences. Yet, all she wanted to do was take a nap.

  It didn’t matter how she felt about Jess allowing her to make her choices which was the crux of her problem with him. The baby was a game changer. Despite her nerves, she knew what Jess was going to say and how he’d feel about it. She knew him that well. Which made their argument and her subsequent run to her parent’s about the most idiotic thing she could have done. She loved Jess and her future was here.

  Really, her cell phone being out of commission was definitely for the best. She imagined her parents were having a fit. She knew what had to be done, what she had to say to both of them, yet she still didn’t want to take that final step.

  She unpacked the groceries, mixed her favorite marinade and poured it over the chicken. She slid the tray into the refrigerator and poured a glass of milk. She spread her hand over her stomach and took a sip. “Guess I have no choice to eat right now, huh peanut?”

  She finished prepping dinner while nibbling on crackers and apple slices. She found her grandmother’s favorite tablecloth and dishes and set the table. She worried and fretted and practiced variations of “Jess, honey, I’m pregnant.” They all sounded stilted and desperate. Then she took a cool shower and lay down in bed. She had two hours before she had to put the chicken in the oven. She could get an hour nap in and then dress. Jess would be thrilled, even more so when he realized she wasn’t going anywhere near her father’s law firm.

  She dropped off to sleep and dreamed of a little girl with Jess’s eyes.

  At some point, what felt like minutes later, she was aware of Jess easing into bed next to her. She woke in the dead of the night with a pressing need for the bathroom and realized he was next to her and they’d missed dinner.

  She wanted to wake him, but he was snoring. Jess only snored when he was past tired and into exhaustion. She could relate. She eased out of bed, used the bathroom and shifted back in next to him without him moving.

  She awoke hours later to the heat of a new day and a sun more than part-way risen in the morning sky. Jess was gone.

  “Dammit. Of all the times to blow a plan sky high.” She rolled from the bed. For once, her stomach cooperated and she accomplished shower, hair, makeup and clothes without the slightest twinge of morning sickness. She turned this way and that in the full-length mirror in her bedroom to check her profile. “Gotta go find your daddy now, baby. Hang in there. I promise I’ll get this solved.”

  She gazed at the lonely china settings on the dining room table and swore under her breath, then made her way to the kitchen. She paused to gather a morning snack, grabbed her keys and went out to the driveway.

  Juggling juice and a piece of toast, Amy Rose squinted at the black car driving up her lane.

  Her father.

  “Shoot. Two more minutes and I would have been gone.” She put a hand against her car and took a deep breath, still not prepared. Her stomach flipped in a sudden turn that didn’t portend a good end. Please, let me not throw up in front of my father.

  But it wasn’t just her father. Her mother got out of the passenger side and followed him up the not-long-enough driveway. They both were dressed in ridiculous formality. Her father sported his usual b
lack-striped, tailor-made Italian suit. Her mother was dressed in a white Ann Taylor suit dress with pearls. They couldn’t have looked anymore out of place. Amy Rose wore jean shorts and her favorite, well-worn college T-shirt.

  She straightened her shoulders and found her pride. Her baby needed her to follow her heart and do the right thing. And if they thought they could gang up on her, they had another thing coming.

  She opened her car door and dropped her purse on the seat, then closed the door again.

  “What a surprise,” she greeted when they got to the bumper of her car and stopped.

  “We tried to call you, dear.” Her mother didn’t smile and the look of distress on her face made Amy Rose feel a tad guilty.

  She tried for a smile, but was pretty sure one didn’t appear on her face. “My phone quit. I have to replace it today.”

  “What are you doing here?” Her father’s growl had always intimidated her and she forced herself to take a moment before she answered him.

  “I live here, Dad. I couldn’t stay at your house forever.”

  “The bar exam is in a month. That is hardly enough time to study sufficiently to pass. Our home, with Miles to help you study, would be a much better decision.”

  Oh, so he had arranged it.

  She looked at her mother and noted the shine of hope in her eyes.

  Years of stifled anger came to her rescue. Her father always tried to make her choices and her mother constantly stepped around her wishes. And their comments always implied that they made the better choices, comments she always ignored. She’d always let them have their way, thinking it was simpler. But today that stopped.

  She uttered words that had been a long time coming. “I’m not going to take the bar exam.” She tensed, waiting for the repercussions.

  Her father huffed. “Of course you are. That was decided when I paid for law school.”

  “No, you told me I was going. My choice was not involved. I didn’t want to argue with you and I wanted to be fair to you and figure out if that was something I wanted. I’m sorry, Father, it isn’t.”

  He stiffened. “Young lady, that’s unacceptable. I’ve held your spot in my law firm and expect you to join. It’s your birthright. You will be taking the exam.”

  She looked at her mother. “Miles adores you, dear. He was looking forward to working with you.”

  Amy Rose gagged. She swallowed hard against the bile churning at the back of her throat and remembered Jess’s touch from last night. There was love there and, argument notwithstanding, a bedrock belief in her that up until now she hadn’t fully appreciated. “That’s not what I want either, Mother. And you knew that. We talked about this after I dated him the first time.”

  “He’s a good catch, dear. You couldn’t ask for a better gentleman and a smart lawyer.”

  Fed up, Amy Rose blurted the truth. “Or a bigger asshole.”

  “Amy Rose Adams, don’t speak like that! Is that cowboy teaching you to forget your manners?” The horrified expression on her mother’s face was enough reward for finally speaking her mind.

  She opened her mouth to reply, but her father stopped her. “I agree with your mother. This is what happens when we let you make your choices. Your future derails.”

  “My future derails?” Amy Rose wrapped her arms around her stomach and moved towards her parents, feeling a whole lot pissy and ready for this to be over.

  “I thought a parent’s job was to help their child reach her potential, not tell her what it was going to be. I thought it was your job to be supportive and respect my need to decide that for myself. That’s never what you’ve done for me.”

  Her mother’s face reddened. “We’re just trying to stop you from making another mistake, dear.”

  Amy Rose felt a rant skim like raw energy just beneath her anger. “Another mistake? These are my choices, my decisions. I won’t be taking the exam. I won’t be joining your law firm. I won’t be marrying Miles.” She stepped away from both of them, going back to her car.

  Her father’s face flushed. “Don’t you walk away from me, young lady. Do you think you’ll live here and chase that cow rancher? Is that your decision?”

  “Edgar.” Her mother touched his sleeve, her face full of alarm.

  Amy Rose searched deep inside and knew there was no way around tearing apart their relationship. She owed it to Jess to be honest about how she felt. “I love that rancher. And I’m going to see if Jess will have me and along the way I might become a teacher or a truck driver or a stay-at-home mom, but it will be my choice, not yours.”

  “Amy Rose, there is no need to get snippy.” Her mother’s proper nasal tone infuriated her.

  “Yes, Mother. There is every reason to get snippy. You’ve been trying to set me up with every eligible male in your circle. You were trying to make my choices for me, too. Just once I’d like both of you to respect my right to live my own life.”

  Her father clenched his fists. “I can sell this homestead. I will sell this homestead. Should have long ago.” He looked around with loathing.

  Her heart seized, but she shoved the devastation away. “You family’s history is here on this land. But do what you think you need to, Dad. Jess has a home and a ranch where I am more than welcome. I know I am wanted there, just the way I am.” She opened her car door. “Now if you don’t mind, I have someone I need to see and you need to leave.”

  “Amy Rose, come to dinner at the house and we’ll discuss this like civilized adults.” Her mother’s command grated.

  Her father shook his finger at her. “This isn’t the end of this discussion.”

  She gripped her keys. “I’m never setting foot in your house again, Mother. There is nothing for me there. And yes, Father, it is the end of the discussion.”

  She got in, shut her door and started the engine, working hard to keep her face bland. When her parents didn’t move, she cranked on the steering wheel, did a three-point turn and drove across the lawn to get to the highway.

  She had to find Jess.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jess wiped his feet on the mat and went in the back door of his parent’s house. He could smell biscuits and bacon and his stomach growled. He’d left Amy Rose’s bed more reluctantly than he could ever remember, but a text message fire alert from the McCormick Ranch had him scurrying so fast he’d forgotten to leave a note for Amy Rose. The small fire had been started by a thrown cigarette and had scorched four acres before being put out by fire department personnel and ranch hands.

  He’d text messaged her before he remembered her phone wasn’t working. Figuring she was probably still asleep, he drove to his parents. He was sooty, dog-tired and wishing he’d been able to ignore the request for help and just stay in her bed for once.

  But he was a rancher.

  Helping your neighbor in a time of need meant he helped you in the same circumstances. That sentiment is what kept small communities close-knit. Copper Canyon was no exception. Amy Rose had been around this area long enough to understand.

  His mama was at the stove, dishing up a plate. “You better have wiped your feet.”

  “Mama, I’ve been wiping my feet without being reminded since I was about two.” He stopped and redid the wiping just to please her.

  “How bad?” His father pushed out a chair next to him at the breakfast table.

  Jess lifted off his hat and hung it on the hook. “Buy me a cup of coffee and I might come up with some details. Let me wash up.” He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and spent five minutes scrubbing his face, neck, hands and arms. He still smelled like smoke. Nothing to be done about that until he could get home and take a shower and change clothes.

  Back in the kitchen, he leaned in to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  She peered into his face. “You look dead tired. Don’t you ever sleep?”

  “If it would rain, I might.” He took the heaped over plate she offered him and went to the table. Hash brow
ns, biscuits covered in thick white gravy, Spanish scrambled eggs heaping with chilies and onions just the way he liked them, and a stack of toast — wheat, as a nod to healthy.

  He pulled out his chair and sat, grabbing a napkin from the holder and putting it in his lap. He paused and just breathed in the aroma of the cup of coffee his father put on the table in front of him. “Fire department found a cigarette where they think the fire started. Four acres, mostly grassland, no cattle on the space, thank God. Got put out quickly.”

  His dad took a sip of his own coffee. “Still dangerous stuff. Temperatures going to be well over a hundred again today. Thirty-two days of this weather and counting. How are we for hay and feed?”

  “We’ll be okay. Working on a different supply source. It’s going to cut our margins some. But most of our regulars are tapped.”

  His mother joined them at the table with her plate and her usual cup of tea. “Don’t suppose Amy Rose’s place is fairing any better?”

  He took his time taking a bit of eggs and swallowing a mouth of coffee before he answered her. “Not as near as I can tell.”

  Mama looked like she’d say more, but Daddy interrupted. “You let me know if you need help. I’m right here.” He took a bite of his food.

  “I know, Dad.” Muscles tightened across his shoulders in preparation for more prodding questions. Even though he’d asked his mother to leave it alone, she’d only do that so long. He finally relaxed when his parents let him eat in silence. He took the last piece of biscuit and cleaned his eggs and gravy off his plate.

  He wasn’t fooling himself that the invitation to dinner with Amy Rose last night would have solved anything. There wasn’t a simple solution to this. He couldn’t stand her parents, didn’t like how her father treated Amy Rose or him, and felt strongly about her not working in her father’s law firm. They couldn’t leave this same problem simmering as they had for three years. Finding her asleep last night, when she’d clearly set up a nice dinner for him, had softened his heart. Sleeping against her had made him realize he wasn’t about to let her go. But could he live with her choices?