Sensing her gaze, Ray met her eye. “What?”
“I had no idea how good you were with babies. I would never have guessed it.”
“There is a lot you don’t know about me, Miss Jessica.”
It was true, over the year any conversation they had had, Jessica had done the talking. Ray was the silent type, but also, she had never really thought to ask him about himself over the years. She was always so caught up in her own life when she was over at Ray’s.
“So, tell me then.” Jessica propped her elbow up on the back of the couch and leaned in towards the big man next to her.
“What would you like to know?” Ray asked, crossing his leg over his knee and turning towards her.
“For starters, why a bar? Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a drink.”
“I’ll have a whiskey neat occasionally.”
“How often is occasionally?”
Ray looked at her with a twinkle in his eye, “Every Christmas. Postmaster Glenn brings me a bottle for Christmas every year and insists that I have a glass with him. He ends up drinking the rest.”
Jessica laughed. “The bartender that doesn’t drink. That’s like the hairdresser that has a rat’s nest on her head.”
He looked her over. “You have beautiful hair. It looks like gold to me.”
Jessica blushed and moved the conversation on from her. “So why bartending if you don’t even drink?”
“It was my uncle’s business. He moved out East and left it to me. It just seemed like the sensible choice, to keep it going. That’s how I got started, but I keep it going because of the people.”
“You always seem so stoic; I didn’t peg you for a ‘people person’.”
“I may not be as chatty as others, but I care for the people of this town. I just show it in a different way. People are going to drink if they are going to drink. I figure I can give them a safe place to do it where I can keep an eye on them.”
“And cut them off when they’ve had too much?”
“Yes.”
“And drive them home when they need a ride.”
“Yes.” Ray smiled at Jessica. “And cut their drinks when they get too big for their britches.” He winked.
“What? You cut my drinks?”
“Sometimes. When you were younger and drinking those maraschino cherry drinks I would half the vodka and still cut you off after the same number.”
“Did you do that to anyone else?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“No.” He looked down. “There’s a lot of things that I would do for you, Jessica, that I wouldn’t do for anyone else.”
Again, Jessica looked over this man, a familiar man she had known her whole adult life that had now become a wonderful friend to her. Wanting to kiss him again she imagined the feel of his rough beard on her face, she imagined what it would be like to be pressed against the bare skin of his chest.
“He peed on me.”
Jessica jumped up from the couch, embarrassed by the flush her daydreams had brought to her face. She felt like her thoughts had been projected onto a screen for Ray to see. She quickly took Evan from Ray and rushed off to the bedroom to diaper the baby and collect herself.
“Whew, baby. Mama’s the one that needs the cold bath, now.” As she dressed Evan in a diaper and tiny tee shirt, Jessica caught a glimpse of her appearance in the mirror above her bed. The hair that she had pulled into a ponytail that morning was now half in and half out. Dark circles were under her eyes. Her baggy tee shirt was stained with milk and mummy tummy sagged beneath it. And yet, the haggard new mom looking back at her had the most beautiful smile on her tired face.
Life found its rhythm, as it tends to do. Jessica had Evan on a schedule, he was growing like a weed. Thankfully, he had been as healthy as he could be since that scary night of the fever. Ray had taken to coming over every evening, to spend time with Jessica and Evan. He was getting to be like another member of their family.
The salon was busier than before, and Jessica could barely keep up with the demand. Between Mama, her mother, and Carrie when she wasn’t at school, Jessica was working thirty hours a week. She refused to take new clients because she just couldn’t stand to be away from Evan any longer than that.
The waves of grief still hit her occasionally, but having Evan was healing her. Girl time with Carrie always helped to brighten her spirit, and Jessica tried to get together with her regularly.
One lazy afternoon when Carrie texted Jessica to see if she could catch a few hours of girl time and shopping with her, Jessica had quickly replied ‘That’d be great will pick you up soon.’ Packing up the stroller, diaper bag, and Evan had taken longer than she anticipated, as it always did, but Jessica finally picked Carrie up from the ranch and took them all to the mall in Clinton. After a few rounds around the building, Evan fell asleep in his stroller and the ladies decided to grab a coffee and sit and chat. Jessica was always on the search for good coffee whenever she left the town of Poke, where it was sparse.
Stirring the cream into her coffee, Jessica looked at Carrie, “Did you see if the barista poured decaf for sure? I’m worried this is regular.”
“Well, one real coffee can’t hurt you, can it?”
“Caffeine isn’t good for nursing babies.”
Carrie rolled her eyes at the anxious mother. “I’m sure it’s fine, Jessica. You could probably have an expresso and Evan would be fine.”
“Oh, Ray would never let me do that.”
Carrie snorted and spit the sip of peppermint mocha hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and sprinkles, she had just taken, all over the table. Thankfully, none landed on Jessica’s white blouse.
Laughing and mopping up the mess with a stack of napkins, Carrie said, “Let you? Since when does Jessica ever let a man tell her what to do? I thought it was the other way around.”
“What do you mean?” Jessica asked innocently as she took a dainty sip from her cup.
“What?” Putting on her best Jessica face, Carrie flipped her hair over her shoulder and mimicked, “Oh, Ray would never allow me to do that.” She copied Jessica’s drinking style, then slapped both of her palms down on the table. “How positively archaic of you, Jess. What happened to the woman power ultra-feminist, dominatrix, cat woman, Jessica that we all know and love?”
Jessica shrugged. “Motherdom?”
“Um, I think the word you meant to say is Motherhood, but the word you should have said was ‘Raydom,’ as in, Ray Dom, Ray is your Dom. You, my dear Jessica, have a Daddy Dom.”
Now, it was Jessica’s turn to choke on her own drink that she had just shelled out five dollars for.
“He is most certainly not my Daddy Dom.”
“Really? Then you shouldn’t be threatened by me asking you a few little questions. Let’s go over the list, shall we?” Narrowing her eyes at Jessica, Carrie pressed on. “Has Ray ever taken your phone from you and told you to go to bed?”
“Maybe.” Jessica had a small smile on her face and looked to the side.
“Maybe, as in how often?”
“Like, maybe, every night,” she shrugged sheepishly.
“What time?”
“I dunno, nine o’clock?”
“Oh,” Carrie exclaimed, rolling her eyes, “nine o’clock, that is such a Daddy Dom bedtime.”
“Well, I still have to get up in the middle of the night to feed Evan,” Jessica protested.
“Okay. Daddy Dom establishing a bedtime. Next question. Have you been eating healthier since Ray has been coming around?”
Jessica blushed. “He does cook for me, I guess. And forces me to eat when I’m too busy to remember, so, yes. But lots of friends do that for each other.”
Carrie gave her a satisfied smirk. “Healthy eating. Check.” With a flourish, Carrie made an imaginary check mark on the table. “Next question.” Leaning in, Carrie whispered, “Have you- gotten in trouble with Ray at all?” She raised her eyebrows demanding an honest answe
r.
Jessica leaned back in her chair and sighed. “No, Carrie. Ray has not spanked me if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s not what I’m asking. Have you ever gotten in trouble with Ray?” Carrie tilted her head to the side and grinned. “Even a little bit?”
“Okay, okay.” Jessica threw her hands up in surrender. “Ray does have this stern tone, it’s like...”
“Like a daddy,” Carrie interrupted, nodding knowingly.
“Call it what you want, but it does give me shivers—like in a good way. Sometimes, I push him a little just to hear him use it.”
“For example,” Carrie said expectantly.
“Well, for example, I was watching one of those horrid murder mystery movies that I love…”
Carrie’s face scrunched up. Jessica had tried to expose her to one during their time together on the ranch, and at the first scary scene, Carrie had made her change the channel to While You Were Sleeping.
“Anyway, they never used to bother me but ever since I had Evan they scare me and I can’t sleep but I just can’t give them up. So, Ray had Evan in the living room and I was in the bedroom folding laundry and watching one and Ray came in. He said, ‘Don’t these movies give you nightmares? You should turn it off.’ And I said, ‘No, Ray, it’s fine,’ then Ray said, ‘Yes, they do, Miss Jessica. I don’t want you watching them.’ And then he picked up the remote and turned my TV off. Turned my TV off, just like that. I’m a grown woman and I can watch whatever I like.” Jessica looked down at her coffee and smiled sheepishly. “I was shocked by how much I liked that he did it.”
“Oh my gosh,” Carrie’s palms once again slammed down on the table. “You so have a daddy.” She began to tick things off on her fingers. “He takes good care of you, sets boundaries so you take care of yourself, and gets strict with you when you disobey him.”
“Carrie, language,” Jessica exclaimed with mock revulsion. “If another woman in the food court heard you say the word, ‘obey,’ you would get us kicked out of this mall.”
“That’s a daddy, Jessica. But it’s nice, isn’t it? Having a man take care of you in that special way.”
“Yes. It is,” Jessica admitted. “But I will not, under any circumstance, be calling him ‘daddy.’ He’s not even my boyfriend, really.”
Having said that, Jessica checked the time on her phone. Ray was coming at six that evening and she didn’t want to be late.
“Give it time.” Carrie winked. “Now, we’d better be going. I don’t want to be the one to get you in heaps of trouble with daddy.”
Carrie stood and cleared the cups as Jessica weakly protested, “Ray, is so not my daddy.”
Chapter 4
Ke-vin, Ke-vin, Ke-vin, Ke-vin. The beat of the horse’s hoofs hitting the dry ground seemed to drum out the name of the dead boy. No one, but Mabel, knew that Wes had taken to riding every morning before dawn. Grief often made sleep impossible, and after tossing and turning, Wes would throw back the covers, pull on his faded Wranglers, and head to the barn. He always chose Mabel, the once wild Mustang he had saved from being taken to an overcrowded facility, then tamed and given to Carrie. May made no qualms about reminding Wes that she belonged to Carrie, with an angry whinny every morning when he roused her. After a few sugar cubes from Wes’ pocket, May would allow the dusky, break neck paced early morning rides.
The horse somehow seemed to sense Wes’ sadness and the two became one as they rode over the open hills of the ranch. Sweaty and exhausted, cowboy and horse would return to the barn and Wes would serve up Mabel’s breakfast which consisted of sweet hay and a little token of Wes’ gratitude, a granny smith apple.
During this morning’s ride, Wes was remembering the time Kevin had cut his arm. Returning to the ranch they found him bleeding out on Mama’s kitchen table. Carrie had stepped in and gotten Kevin stitched up. When they took Kevin to the hospital in the morning to have the wound checked out, the doctor had said that Carrie had done an excellent job. The little cowgirl had surprised them all with her calm, take charge manner that night. The same trait had shown up after Kevin’s death, and Evan’s early birth. His thoughts turning to Carrie, Wes slowed the horse and brought May down to the creek bed to drink.
As he led the horse down to the water, Wes continued to puzzle over the pieces that put together he and Carrie’s story. Something deep down was troubling Wes. Through the cloud of grief, then the whirlwind of baby Evan’s arrival, Wes could barely keep up with the daily running’s of the ranch. He certainly didn’t have time to clear his head enough to untangle his thoughts.
Stroking the strong back of the now tamed beast, Wes basked in Mabel’s magnificence. With her golden coat, tawny mane, and rebellious spirit, Mabel sometimes reminded him of his petite fiancée. Over time, he had gained May’s trust and now she was the most coveted horse in his barn. It had been a long road and some of the hardest work he had ever taken on. In the end, the feeling of May’s strength beneath him as they rode, and knowing how much Carrie loved the horse, made it all worthwhile.
Trust. That was what it had taken for the mustang to become tamed.
As Wes watched the rosy colors of the sunrise spread through the early morning sky, the upset feeling seemed to unravel itself like taking the knots from a rope. Trust. Carrie did not fully trust Wes. In what capacities, only she knew. It was so clear to him now. Why she had taken so long to first return to the ranch, why she had run from the restaurant in New York, why she had fled at the sight of Wes placing a chaste kiss on the head of their devastated, pregnant friend.
“But why?” Wes wondered aloud to himself. May gave a grunt in response, and Wes fed her a sugar cube from his pocket. Wes had been nothing but a loyal, loving, boyfriend, fiancé, and devoted daddy to her, giving her his love and attention. Always a steady rock for her, Carrie had absolutely no reason to be anything but trusting. The realization had taken away the unsettled feeling that recently resided in the pit of his stomach but replaced it with a cold, hard, feeling. How could he marry the woman when she didn’t trust him?
Carrie and Mama were having an impromptu, breakfast cooking, dance party when Wes entered the kitchen. Singing into a spatula, Carrie twirled and sashayed her way over to Wes, saying, “Good morning, cowboy,” as she placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Good morning,” he replied, unable to summon a smile. Carrie looked so sweet and innocent in her little skirt and braids dancing around the kitchen with his Mama. Maybe he was making something out of nothing, a phrase his father used to say, but the heavy feeling remained with him.
“Blueberry pancakes, one of your favorites,” Mama joked to him, knowing Wes could never pick a favorite as he loved all his breakfast foods equally. Wes took plates down from the cabinet and started to set the table for three, just as the old-fashioned landline phone hanging on the wall, rang.
“Hello,” Carrie sang into the receiver. “Oh, hi, Jessica.”
Wes watched his beautiful fiancée smiling, holding her utensil turned microphone in one hand and the phone in the other.
“Uh-huh. Oh, dear. Okay, I’ll be right over.”
She smiled over her shoulder to Mama before she replied into the handset, “No, that’s okay. Mama’s been hogging up all the babysitting time with little Evan. My turn. See you, soon.”
Carrie walked over to the counter and set her utensil down. “Well, looks like I’ll be taking my breakfast to go,” she said, grabbing a banana from the counter. “Mrs. Robinson tried to save some money and go platinum at home and she called Jessica crying saying she looks like a woman with a giant orange trying to swallow her head and she’s hosting a baby shower this afternoon. Jessica is going to open up the salon for her and work her magic.”
Hating to see her leave, Wes met Carrie at the back door. He held her tight and gave her a passionate kiss laced with urgency.
Sensing the difference from his normal goodbye kiss, Carrie joked, “Well now, cowboy, that’s quite a kiss before breakfast.”
Softer, she said, “I’ll be right back. I’m not going far.”
“I know,” Wes said quietly. But you have before, and you could again his heart screamed. He had to get to the bottom of this and soon. The wedding was only a few weeks away and having a nagging suspicion that you didn’t have your wife’s full trust was no way to start a marriage.
After Carrie had left, Wes and Mama sat down to eat breakfast.
“Well, this is nice, a little mother, son date,” Mama said, spreading her blue damask cloth napkin in her lap.
“It is.” Wes served up a stack of pancakes on each of their plates. He ate quietly, his brow furrowed. The morning ride had already worn him out and he still had a full day ahead of him.
“Something troubling you, Weston?” his mother asked.
Wes sighed, pushing back his plate. There was no more debating with himself. He needed to talk to someone and he sure could use a piece of Mama’s gentle wisdom right now.
“It’s Carrie. I get this unsettling feeling that she doesn’t trust me. I know she doesn’t doubt my loyalty, it’s not that, but something else. I can’t quite figure it out.”
“Hmm.” Mama continued to eat as she thought the problem over. After a moment, she placed her fork and knife neatly across her plate and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Sometimes it’s not the partner a person can’t trust, it’s something within themselves that doesn’t allow them to trust anyone, not fully. Maybe something in her past did a number on her? We know the situation with Garrett wasn’t easy on her.”
Contemplating Mama’s words for several moments, Wes finally replied, “It was difficult.” Wes remembered that day well and he never wanted to see Carrie go through something like that again. It broke his heart. But that wasn’t what was getting in the way of them. He was sure of it. “She said she was over that before we even got together, and I believe her. I feel like it’s something deeper.” Wes sighed.
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