“Can I get a tattoo someday?”
Jenna cringed. “When you’re thirty, sweetheart. Then we’ll talk.”
“What? That’s ridiculous! I’m not going to be thirty for a really long time.”
She loved the way he said ridiculous like he was an old soul in a kid’s body, outraged by the innumerable indignities of youth. She had to work to keep a grin from her face as she opened the door for him. “I know. Life stinks like that.”
She followed Tommy in. The woman at the register smiled in greeting. She looked to be around Jenna’s age, with straight brown hair falling around her shoulders. On the counter was an open textbook. Ever the nosy one about books other people were reading, Jenna did some eyeball stretching to look at the page of differential calculus equations. Nice. Calculus had been one of Jenna’s favorite classes.
“Is Tara here?”
“I’m afraid not. She’s making a delivery and isn’t expected back for an hour. Is there something I can help you with?”
An hour? Must be quite a delivery. “No, thank you. We’re friends of the family and were in the area. I thought we’d stop by and say hi. Another time, perhaps.”
“May I have your name so I can tell her you were here?”
“You can tell her Jenna and Tommy,” Tommy said. “Are those suckers?” He pointed to a glass jar of rainbow-colored lollipops next to the register.
The woman chuckled. “They sure are. You may have one if it’s okay with your mom.” She raised an eyebrow in Jenna’s direction.
Jenna nodded. Keeping Tommy away from sugar was like trying to keep flies off a horse’s ass. Impossible. His sugar radar was more highly developed than that of anyone else she knew. Thank goodness he was an active kid who never stopped moving. If only she could get him to brush his teeth without a fight, then she might feel a more worthy opponent in her battle against sugar.
She’d made him get milk with his lunch and no dessert, even though the ice-cream sundaes at the fast-food restaurant were dirt cheap and darn tasty. A lollipop wasn’t so bad and might keep his mouth too busy to pepper her with questions about Matt’s ranch on the way there.
After he selected a green lollipop, they bid the woman behind the counter good-bye and set off to Matt’s family’s property in the eastern outskirts of the city.
In the directions he’d given Jenna the night before, Matt had explained that he had his own entrance to the property three-fourths of a mile past the main gate. Jenna was impressed by the privacy that having his own road afforded him. Her cottage sat a quarter mile from the big house, which doubled as an inn three seasons out of the year, but her family’s farm boasted only a single, unpaved road that forked to the separate houses. With the dust kicked up by a vehicle’s tires, anybody standing on the big house’s front porch or in Jenna’s yard could see if someone was coming or going.
Matt had given her the code to his entrance gate, which probably meant his road was paved to boot. Her property didn’t even have a gate. Just an old wooden arch over the turn-off from the main road. It seemed excessive to shell out money for a locked gate, especially since only the newly rich did that in Catcher Creek. Coded entrance gates were interpreted as even more antisocial and snobby than locked front doors.
The urban landscape of Santa Fe gave way to a winding mountain road cutting through a wide valley between two mountainous ridges. She slowed the car after passing the winery Matt had mentioned as a landmark and did a double take when an elaborate, stained-wood and wrought-iron gate appeared to her left, a sign above it declaring it the Circle R Ranch. Behind the gate, a long, tree-lined drive ended in a glimpse of sprawling buildings, white fences, horses, people, and cars.
Sweet sundae, Matt’s family was loaded. She’d only seen ranches this luxurious in reruns of Dallas.
As he’d described, a second unmarked gate appeared three-quarters of a mile later. The lack of signage didn’t detract from the opulence of the sculptured wrought iron and thick, espresso-stained wood. Jenna punched in the four-digit code Matt had given her and watched the gate swing slowly open.
In her rearview mirror, she saw Tommy’s eyes grow wide. “We need one of these, Mommy.”
“Someday, sweetie. An apartment with a pool is the best I can do right now, but someday.” Maybe they’d be able to claim this gate as their own eventually, if she and Matt worked out like she hoped.
She kept her speed at a crawl, taking in the gorgeous green landscape surrounding the single-lane road that wound through the property. There wasn’t a whole lot of green grass in Catcher Creek, save for alfalfa fields, and she couldn’t wait to run barefoot with Tommy on Matt’s ranch, then lie in the grass and stare up at the sky. Even the smell of horses and ranch life was tempered by the scent of lawn.
Matt’s house appeared after several minutes, tucked behind a hill near what she assumed was the back edge of the property, judging by its position near a ridge overlooking an expansive high-desert valley. With the hill, the ridge, and its distance from the main highway, Matt’s house seemed purposefully positioned to be secluded. No other buildings, roads, or people were visible as far as her eye could see. She liked that a lot.
The house itself was larger than she expected—two-storied and made of light stained wood like a modern log cabin, complete with a wrap-around porch that ran around the entire circumference of the house. Jenna was entranced. Already, she felt like she could be happy here for the rest of her life with Matt and Tommy and whatever other kids they adopted.
What caught her by surprise was the appearance of Matt’s SUV under a carport to the left of the house, and in front of the house, Tara’s minivan. Why hadn’t Matt called to tell her he was home early?
Baffled and trying not to jump to any conclusions, she pulled her car alongside Tara’s van. Before she could get both her legs out of the car, Tara jogged out the front door. Not seeming to notice that Jenna had arrived, she headed for the open back doors of her van. When she spotted Jenna, she wobbled and her eyes grew wide. “Oh! Hi there. Just a sec.” She spun toward the house and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Matt?” she hollered. “Jenna’s here.”
“What? No!” came Matt’s panicked reply.
Jenna got Tommy out, feeling awkward. Matt didn’t sound happy.
Tara grinned at Jenna. “He didn’t mean that. It’s just that you’re early.”
“I know. We let our excitement get the best of us and couldn’t stand to wait any longer.” Tommy bounded out of the car, toward the house.
Tara snagged Tommy’s shoulders to prevent him from getting any closer to the house. “Whoa there, partner. Just bear with us for a moment.”
Matt skittered through the front door, looking winded. “Hiya. Hey, Tommy. You’re here.” He loped down the porch steps and held his hand out for Tommy to slap. “Gimme five.”
They high-fived, then Matt ruffled his hair, then met Jenna’s gaze. “Okay, you have to leave now.”
Chapter Fourteen
“What?” Jenna asked Matt, searching his happy, anxious expression for a sign about what he meant.
Her favorite dimple appeared as his smile broadened. “I got off work early because I have a surprise for you.” He dug into the pocket of his khaki shorts and brought out a set of keys, which he twirled on his finger. “You can wait at my parents’ house. I’ll drive you.”
Before she could protest or ask any more questions, he’d swept Tommy into his arms and planted a big old kiss on her lips. “Trust me on this,” he whispered. “I promise it’ll be worth it.”
Delicious tingles skittered over her skin. The reality of dating Matt was so much better and more romantic than she’d ever imagined. Every day she fell more in love with him.
The drive to Matt’s parents’ house took only a few minutes, much to Tommy’s disappointment since he’d been allowed to ride without a booster seat, which was a rare occasion indeed. Matt pulled up in front of a long, two-story ranch house that made his own large house look dimi
nutive in comparison. Across a gravel courtyard, inside a massive covered arena stood a cluster of adults surrounding a child on a horse that was being led in a slow walk. That must be the therapeutic riding school, Jenna reasoned.
Jenna got out of the car, helped Tommy out, then stood admiring the house’s wood and stone exterior. “This is where you grew up?” she asked when Matt joined her.
“Yes. It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it? My grandparents built it. There was a time that three generations of Roenicks lived here.”
“Are your grandparents still alive?”
“Both my grandfathers died more than a decade ago. Not long after that, my bubbies decided to move to town together. My parents offered to build them a cottage on the ranch or a private suite attached to the main house, but they wanted to be within walking distance of a Starbucks.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that logic.” There wasn’t a Starbucks or fast-food place within more than thirty miles of her family’s farm and there were many times she’d wished for the modern convenience of having one nearby.
A large, colorful mosaic hanging over the front door caught Jenna’s attention. Amid swirls of tiles in every color of the rainbow were various images—a tree, a Star of David, birds—and beneath them in letters formed from onyx black tiles were the words TIKKUN OLAM.
Jenna gestured to the mosaic. “You weren’t exaggerating that your family was into the whole tikkun olam idea.”
With a snort of laughter, he broke out in a white-toothed smile. “Yeah. It’s no joke to them. Don’t worry, they’re not going to drill you about it—yet. They’ll wait until they’re sure you won’t be scared away.”
“Oh, ha, ha.”
His eyes went wide with mock-seriousness. “What? You think I’m kidding?”
She bumped her shoulder with his. “I guess I’ll start working on my answer.”
“I’m glad you’re not expecting to get scared away.”
“Never.”
He tipped his head toward the stable to the left of the house. “Mom won’t be inside. She’s probably running the show out with the riding classes.”
On their walk to the stable, they nearly collided with Matt’s mom, who was beating a hasty path from the tack room with her nose in a clipboard. She looked up and saw Matt, Jenna, and Tommy just in the nick of time to grind her boots to a halt, smiling warmly at them. “Beg your pardon for nearly bulldozing over you. I get in work mode and forget to look around.”
Though she still carried an air of dignity and old money about her, the glamorous fashion statement she’d made at Amy’s wedding had given way to cowgirl chic. She wore a radio clipped to the belt of her Wranglers, no-nonsense brown boots, and a blue and white western-style shirt.
“Mom, you remember Jenna from Amy’s wedding?”
“Of course! Matt told us you were coming for a few days.” She offered her hand and when Jenna clasped it, she sandwiched Jenna’s hand between both of hers and gave it a hearty squeeze. “We were delighted to hear it.”
“Likewise, it’s wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Roenick.”
“Call me Cynthia, please. Only my doctors call me Mrs. Roenick.”
Matt wrinkled his nose, smiling. “You still do that?”
“You bet your bottom dollar I do.”
Matt looked Jenna’s way. “Mom thinks it evens out the power differential for doctors to have to address their patients formally.”
“I figure they owe it to me since I have to call them by their surnames, which is a crock because I’m the one hiring them to do a job and not the other way around. Besides, my primary physician is a fine-looking man so having him call me Mrs. Roenick reminds me that I’m married.”
Jenna chuckled. That was awesome.
Matt groaned. “What a terrible joke, Mom. It gets worse every time I hear it.”
Cynthia winked at Jenna. “I love watching my boys squirm.”
Jenna chuckled at that. “I can tell.” She squeezed Tommy’s shoulder. “This is my son, Tommy. I’m not sure if you two met at the wedding.”
“We didn’t have the pleasure.” Cynthia squatted and offered Tommy her hand to shake. He timidly leaned in to Jenna’s thigh, but shook her hand. “Very nice to meet you, Tommy. You can call me Ms. Cynthia, okay?”
Tommy nodded, wide-eyed.
“Tommy has a sweet tooth as big as Brittany’s,” Matt said.
Cynthia stood and crossed her arms over her chest, maintaining eye contact with Tommy. “Oh, my. That’s serious.”
Tommy nodded sagely.
“You’ve come to the right place, sir, because I have a magic cookie jar.”
“Magic?” Tommy whispered.
“Magic because it’s never empty,” Cynthia said.
Jenna felt Tommy’s shoulder relax against her leg.
“Matt, would you like to show them where the cookie jar is?”
Matt rattled his key ring. “I was hoping you could give them a tour while I finish with a surprise I have in the works at my house.”
Cynthia beamed. “That would be my pleasure.”
“Then I leave them in your capable hands.” He kissed Jenna’s nose and added, “I’ll be back for you in forty-five minutes, tops.”
Jenny nodded, feeling relaxed and confident with the choice she’d made to use Matt’s ranch as her safe haven. These were good people. Nothing could touch her while she was here with Matt and his family, not even the demons from her past.
They watched Matt drive away; then Cynthia offered Tommy her hand to hold. “All right, sir, let’s see about that cookie jar. I’ll teach you the magic words on the way.”
A half hour later, Tommy had put the magical refilling cookie jar to the test, as had Jenna. Jenna’s own mom had lived a tormented life, plagued with bipolar disorder. By the time Jenna had been born, farm living and her poor mental health had beaten her down pretty hard. The only time there’d been cookies in the house had been when Rachel had bought them or Amy had made them, and there had never been any magic to their days, just scraping by and coping and treading water.
When her mom was in a good mood, life couldn’t have been sweeter. But that wasn’t all that often. Jenna lived for those days, even though she never knew when her mom’s mood would turn on a dime. All that unpredictability wore on her and her sisters.
It’d worn out their dad before Jenna’s birth, hence his escape through gambling, drinking, and doing God-knows-what for the long stretches of days and nights he’d be gone. Jenna had vivid memories of her two parents being unable to tolerate each other for even a few minutes. It was hard to believe the two of them had spent enough time in the same room together for her mom to get pregnant with her.
All three kids had worked out their own ways of escaping, too. Rachel immersed herself in farm work, Amy in cooking, and Jenna in books and school. And secrets. Then, as a teenager, drugs and drink and friends.
Matt’s mom’s house was a lot like the home Jenna had set up for Tommy. On a far grander scale and with top-of-the-line appliances and furnishings, true, but homey and bright and easy to be in. After maxing out on cookies, Cynthia had taken them to the barn to meet Mrs. Carrots, a calico cat who had appeared at the ranch one day from out of the blue. She’d accepted the food they left out and let everyone pet her and seemed thoroughly domesticated—until anyone had tried to pick her up or trap her in a cat carrier. They’d finally stopped trying and let one of the grandkids give her a name.
Two months later, Mrs. Carrots had become the proud new mother of four. Tommy was instantly smitten. The moment Cynthia set a kitten in his waiting hands, he looked at Jenna with pleading eyes and asked to keep it. While she was mentally rephrasing Not a chance in hell to make it kid-friendly, Cynthia stepped in and broke it to him that all four kitties had homes waiting for them already.
“That’s for the best, buddy, because our new apartment probably won’t allow cats. But we can visit Mrs. Carrots and her babies a lot while we’re here, okay?”
When they walked out of the barn, Tara was waiting for them with the side of her minivan open. She waved them over with a big smile. “Matt’s ready for you.”
Jenna’s pulse sped. She wasn’t usually a fan of surprises, but she had a feeling this one was going to be great.
Cynthia hugged them both good-bye. “I already suggested to Matt that you all come to our home for dinner on Wednesday night. You two discuss it and let me know.”
Tommy squealed. “We could see Mrs. Carrots again and eat cookies!”
Jenna smiled and took his hand. Her little guy was already settling in and making himself at home. That pleased her. She’d be back from her computer lab on the UNM campus by dinnertime and truly hoped they could make it. “I’ll talk to Matt, but that sounds great to me. Thank you.”
When they were loaded in Tara’s car and driving once more, Tara asked, “Having fun yet?”
“Definitely. Your mom’s great. I can see so much of her in Matt and you.”
“Wait until you meet my oldest sister, Leah. She’s Mom’s spitting image.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Just so you know, Tommy and I swung through Carpe Diem on our way to the ranch. We left a message that we’d stopped by with your employee.”
“That’s ironic with me already being here. The woman you met was Evie. She’s not an employee, though. We met a few years back and started a coalition of women small business owners called Destiny by Design, or, as we affectionately call ourselves, The Alpha Chicks.”
“Nice. What was she doing at your store?”
“Everyone in the group helps each other out by watching each other’s stores when our employees call in sick, things like that. Evie owns a salon.”
That took Jenna by surprise. “She was reading an advanced calculus textbook.”
Tara snickered. “That’s her dating strategy. She likes her men young and smart so she keeps enrolling in college classes. It works because she gets asked out a lot by her classmates—and she’s halfway through her second bachelor’s degree.”
How to Rope a Real Man Page 19
