“What?” he says. “Don’t drink coffee?”
“I do,” I say, and I quickly bring the mug to my lips. I don’t want to be rude. I take a sip and notice it’s not as a bad as I thought.
“I know how to make a good cup.”
He winks and it makes me smile.
“You can take a shower if you like. Must feel crappy in those muddy clothes. Bet you’ve got some spares in that elephant-size luggage of yours.” He takes another sip of his coffee.
“As a matter of fact I do, and yes, I’d love to.”
“Hey, you can stay for dinner, if you like,” he says. “If you’ve got nowhere else to go, I mean. Got anybody to call? Ask them to pick you up?”
I bite my lip and take my cell phone out of my bag, but then realize it was empty. What does it matter? Who in the world would I call anyway? No way in hell I’ll call Ronnie, and Nicole … well, I just can’t speak to her yet.
“No … not really,” I mutter.
“Hmm …” Jack puts his hand behind his head and seems agitated. He sets down his mug and holds out his hand. “Hand me your keys, will you? I’ll get to work on your car while you freshen up.”
I hesitate for a moment and gaze at his hand. Should I? I’m in a stranger’s house, drinking coffee that could be drugged for all I know, and I just agreed to take a shower in another man’s home. And I’ve not even started on all the possibilities with my car. Maybe he’ll wreck my car, steal it, or he’ll try to keep me here against my will. What the hell am I doing? I don’t even know where I am and I’m just blindly going after this man as if he’s all I have. Should I trust him?
“What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me?” he says, the smile disappearing from his face.
I bite my lip.
“You know … you’re a very strange girl,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say with furrowed brows.
“I’m the one letting you into my house. I should be the one worried.”
“Why? I’m not dangerous,” I say.
“Well, then why do you think I am? I’m just a rancher, doing my business, helping out strangers in need.”
I swallow, not knowing what to say.
“If you think I’ll pull a number on you, I won’t, trust me,” he continues. “I wouldn’t want to steal that car if my life depended on it.”
“Hey!” I put down my mug so hard it makes a thumping sound, and the coffee spills over the edge.
He holds up his hands. “Relax. Geez, you really are the sensitive one, aren’t you?”
“I’m not the one throwing around remarks. I could say some things about your house, but I don’t, because I have manners.”
One of his eyebrows lifts up and the left corner of his lip quirks up. “Oh really? I don’t mind. You can say anything you like. C’mon, tell me, what do you think of my house?”
I fold my arms. “I’m not falling for your taunts.”
Jack steps closer. A little too close. He’s so close I can almost feel his body. As if the heat radiating from his skin touches mine and warms me up. I hold my breath as he steps into my comfort zone. The smell of his unwashed clothes is somehow wildly attractive.
He gazes into my eyes with a daring look. “I can take it.”
“Fine. Your house is a mess. Ever clean it?”
Jack squints, not moving an inch. The infinite stare between us makes me nervous. My body is gravitating toward his without my consent.
Then he bursts out into a roaring laugh. “No.”
I frown, my mouth dropping open because of his blatant affirmation. “I just told you your house is dirty. And you don’t care?”
“No. Why should I? Does it matter what other people think? Or does it matter more what I think and know?” Jack smirks. “Don’t let things get to you that much. It’s not important. It’s not what makes life worth living.” He holds out his hand.
“Then what makes life worth living according to you?” I say, sniggering. I fumble in my pockets and fish out my car keys.
“Making as many people as you can happy.” He snatches them from my hand. “And I intend to make one stranger happy right now.”
Jack turns and walks out the kitchen, leaving me breathless.
Chapter 3
Jack
She amuses me. I don’t know why. She just makes me want to taunt her. Her smile is just that contagious, and it makes me want to get her to laugh. Somehow when I see it, it lights me up.
Fuck, what the hell am I thinking? I only just met her. I shouldn’t be thinking about this shit. I’ve got more important things to do than crack up with some random stranger. A cute stranger, though.
Dang, that girl’s got some issues, though. I wonder what’s up with her, going all ballistic in my car like that. Jesus, the way she just froze scared the living shit out of me. My heart just stopped seeing her stone cold face blank like that, as if she saw a ghost or something. That can’t have been because of what I said to her. I know I can be a douche, but not to the point where a girl looks like she almost pisses her pants.
I should’ve known when I saw that pouty tear-jerking face of hers that’s what was waiting for me. I don’t know what’s bothering her so much, but I’m not too keen on finding out either. I shouldn’t get involved. It’s not my business, even though I offered to help her. Goddamn why did I make this promise to myself to continue Rose’s legacy? With chicks like these I remember why I thought her idea of helping random people sounded incredibly stupid and dangerous. But there’s something about Amy … her smile … her lips … the way she seemed so helpless, it reminds me of Rose.
Something inside me tells me I need to help Amy. As I should’ve helped Rose that night …
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t you fucking think about that McCallister! Just fucking stop and get to work. Stop complaining.
I blow off some steam and kick a bucket standing next to the door.
I should just fix her car and that’s that. Nothing more.
Tucking my hem back into my pants, I open the door to my truck and get inside. I step on the gas and turn the car so it’s right in front of the garage, exactly the right spot for me to work on her car. I can’t get it inside and there’s no way in hell I’m pushing it all the way inside by myself, so this’ll have to do.
I step on the brakes, stop the truck and get out again. Twirling the set of keys in my hand, I walk up to her car and unhook the chain connecting it to my truck. Turning on the light outside the garage, I point it at the car, so I can actually see something. I open the hood and check for loose valves and gauge the fluids. Nothing seems off, except for the horrible stench and this old barrel’s engine. Probably the latter is causing all this trouble. It’s already giving me a headache just thinking about all the replacing I have to do to get this baby running again. Busted engines aren’t easily fixed. It’ll be days before Ben could get me a new one at the shop, and picking it up will take hours.
Shit, there goes my plan of getting her out as soon as possible.
Fuck, what should I do? I can’t keep her here. She’s too much of a distraction to me, but I can’t kick her out either. There’s nowhere she can go at this time at night and I am not going to send her out there. Fuck. I’m fucked.
I sigh and drop my head between my shoulders. Thinking about it only makes me feel queasy. I don’t want any temptation in my life, not after … I just can’t handle it, but I can’t let her leave without a car either. Maybe it’s not that bad to have her in my house a couple of days. She could help out on the farm. If she’s gonna act normal that is.
I snort and spit on the ground beside me. Whatever. I’ll just have to deal with it.
Disappearing under the hood again, I make certain it’s really the engine that’s broken and nothing else.
“Daddy!”
My head bumps against the hood from the scare, and I let out a groan from the pain. I turn my head and see Madeline bouncing around in a puddle of water in her tiny boots. Seeing her three-
year old face makes me both happy and scared.
“Daddy!”
“What are you doing here, sweetie?” I say, and I rub the painful bump on my head. “It’s too dark to play outside.”
“I know, but I’m not playing!” She comes closer and jerks on my leg. “Daddy, there’s a lady in the shower. Who is she?”
I turn around and get to my knees. “That’s Amy, Madeline. She’ll be staying with us a couple of days.” I grab her by the shoulders and smile to make her feel comfortable, just as Rose told me.
“Can I play with her?”
“Sure you can. Ask her. Maybe you two can become friends.”
She purses her lips. “Maybe …”
I squint. “What?”
“She’s strange. I said ‘hi’ and she was staring at me.”
I try to suppress a laugh. “Sweetie, you shouldn’t say that about people. Especially not to them.” Although I do think she’s absolutely right.
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
“Sometimes the truth shouldn’t be said, because it can hurt the people you’re talking about, Madeline. How would you feel if she said you were strange?”
Her eyebrows lower and she starts to pout. “I’m not strange!”
“I know,” I say and I laugh a little.
My little angel always makes me smile, even though she’s created a huge indent in my life. I can’t imagine what it would be like without her. I don’t even want to think of being without her. She’s the only one I have left that still loves me.
“Well, you go get inside where it’s warm.” I kiss her on the forehead. “Play some more with your dolls. I’m sure she’ll be out of the shower in no time, and then you can ask her to play with you.”
I turn her around and she giggles, because I always leave my signature tickle. Running back to the door, she stops to jump up and down in a puddle two more times. I love seeing her happy. It soothes the painful gash in my heart.
***
I’m cutting up the beans, watching the sports channel in between. The shower is still running, and I wonder if spending so much time in the water is regular business to this girl. If she doesn’t come out soon, she’ll end up looking like my late gran.
Chortling from the images that come to mind, I take a peek at Madeline who’s playing in the corner. She’s pretending her dolls are marrying again, but it never ends well. They never have that happy ever after that’s boasted so much in those fairy tale books I read to her at night. Sometimes she makes them fall down a ramp, or crashes the tiny doll car into a post, or worse … she pretends they drown.
Lucky she hasn’t arrived at that part in her story yet.
I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve spoken to a couple of therapists, but they all say the same thing. It’s a period she has to go through in order to process what happened. Normal, they say. Normal my ass.
I clear my throat and bring the bowl of beans to the kitchen, starting up the fire. The beef steaks are already on the grill outside and I can smell them through the open window, bringing water to my mouth.
I pick up a sack of taters and grab a knife. Peeling taters isn’t on my list of favorite things to do, but it has to be done. Nobody else is here to do it and I sure as hell ain’t going to cook up something difficult.
The shower is finally turned off. About time. Madeline’s eyes and ears perk up like a dog hearing its owners call. She’s too interested in Amy, and it freaks me out. I don’t want her to become attached to someone who’ll leave again. And I know Amy will.
Everything’s already started cooking before Miss Sensitive comes downstairs to join us in the fun. She briefly glances at me and smiles. A knot twists in my stomach, because I know I have to break the bad news to her now.
Madeline comes running to us, but I stop her. “Maddy, wait, not now sweetie. Daddy has to talk to Amy for a second, okay? She’ll be with you in a moment. Go play a little more.”
She sighs and pouts again, but still listens to me, thankfully. I wait until she’s too far away to hear us before I start talking.
“Uh … ‘bout your car.”
“What about it?” Amy says, tucking her still wet hair into a bun.
“The engine’s broke. Like completely busted. I’ll have to replace it entirely.”
She shoots me a oh-no-you-didn’t look, and I back up immediately. “Hey, I’m just the messenger. And I’ve got worse news. Ben’s shop doesn’t have a spare one lying around. I’ll have to call him tomorrow and make some deal to get one quicker, but it’ll still take days to arrive.”
“What?” she screams.
“Sorry. Didn’t think it’d be this bad.”
“No shit!” she yells. “Crap! I don’t have anything else, Jack. My car is the only thing I have right now, and you’re telling me it’s too damaged to drive?” Amy starts pacing up and down the hallway. Jesus, it’s just a car. Why’s she so attached to that dump?
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it fixed in no time.”
Her forehead is wrinkly from distress and her eyes flick about. I can’t help but think that something is seriously wrong in her life right now, for her to act like this. As if her life depends on that car. I don’t really know how to react. All I know is that I want to help her, because that’s all I know. I do the only thing I know to make things better.
“Hey, I promise. I’ll fix it. Stop worrying.” I make promises I don’t even know I can keep.
“What do I do now? I can’t go home,” she mutters. She rests her hand on her forehead, still pacing around.
“Guess there’s nothing to do about it. If you want, you can stay here for the night. Maybe longer, depending on how much time it takes for me to repair your car.”
“Stay here?” Amy repeats.
“Yeah. It’s no problem. I’ve got a spare bed.”
“What? No, no … I can’t.”
“Why not? You’ve got nowhere else to go, right? No one else to pick you up?”
She shakes her head.
“Well, what do you suggest then? Would you rather sleep outside?” I say.
“Of course not.”
“Guess it’s decided then.”
Madeline suddenly comes running into the kitchen again. “Daddy, are you done yet?”
Amy’s caught off guard and I see it as the perfect opportunity. Maybe spending some time with my Madeline can calm her down. She has that effect on people, or at least on me.
Amy turns to me to say something, but has no time to speak because Madeline is jerking her arm.
“Come play with me!” Madeline says.
“Uh …” Amy stammers.
Madeline pulls her arm, dragging her to her corner. Amy looks at me, desperation crossing her face. It makes me laugh. Poor thing. Probably not used to having kids around. Well, I don’t blame her. I never expected to have one myself at my twenty-five years of age. Let alone having to raise her by myself.
“Go on,” I say to the both of them. “I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”
Madeline grabs her least favorite doll and presses it firmly into Amy’s hand, pulling her down to the floor. I chuckle as I watch the two play together. Madeline never shares her dolls, so it surprises me she gives one of them away. To a stranger, no less. It’s as if she already trusts Amy, even though she just said she was weird. That girl never ceases to amaze me.
I go outside and check on the beef, which seems grilled enough to be taken off. Medium is better than well done. I like my beef juicy, not as a shoe sole.
Back inside, I clean the table. The beans and taters are done too and I take them off the gas. “Dinner’s ready!”
I put the pans and plates on the table and wait until both of them get here before I sit down. I stare at the decked out table and am reminded of all the times I wasn’t the one cooking. I hope I’ve learned enough the past year to make up for it.
Madeline jumps on her seat at the corner of the table, clattering her fork and knife against each other
while Amy takes a seat opposite of me. She’s quiet, distant, looking away. I wonder if she’s just shy and feels embarrassed to eat in front of strangers. Or maybe there’s something more.
“Guests first,” I say, and I hand Amy the spoon for the beans.
She hesitates to scoop up some food, as if she’s afraid I’ve put something nasty in it. She glances at me and I know she sees I’m watching her. She quickly puts a tiny amount on her plate and hands the spoon back to me. I frown, trying to understand what’s going on inside that head of hers. I could ask, but that would be rude, and I’m sure Miss Sensitive will make dinner very unpleasant if I do.
After all of us have our plates full, she’s still tossing her beans as if she’s bored.
I swallow a few beans. “What’s the matter?” I ask.
She looks up at me and a cute flush appears on her cheeks. “I’m … just not that hungry.”
I started cutting my beef steak, but the gurgling sounds coming from where she’s seated make me stop. Her stomach’s growling.
“Oh, really?” I say, unable to withhold a stupid smile from creeping up on my face. She’s hungry, or at least her stomach is. Why isn’t she eating? “Give it a try. It’s not going to bite you.”
My persistent gaze drives her to pick up a single bean with her fork. Her shaking hands bring it to her mouth and she starts chewing it very carefully. I wait and see until she reacts. I’d like to know if my cooking is on par with her standards.
She makes an approving hum. “Did you make this all by yourself? It’s delicious!”
I smile. “Yep. Prepared by the infamous Jack ‘of all trades’ McCallister.”
She bursts out into laughter. “Jack of all trades?”
“Uh-huh. There ain’t nothin’ this guy can’t do, Miss.” I pass her a wink, and she chuckles loudly.
“Yeah, right. I’ll need to see that for myself,” she says.
“All right. I’ll show ya. Tomorrow.”
One of her eyebrows rises. “And why would I find that interesting? I’ve got better things to do.”
Blissful Vol. 1 Page 3
