by Anne Martin
His eyes danced. “That sounds very efficient, Miss Jessie.”
I shook my head. “Cora, let’s head out.”
We all climbed into my old truck. I drove because Jackson was probably exhausted. He leaned against the door with his eyes closed until he started snoring while Cora’s elbow dug into my ribs, on accident, of course.
She coughed and said, “It’s lung cancer. I suppose you can say, ‘I told you so.’ You always said that’s what I’d get for smoking.”
I shot her a look. “I wouldn’t say that. Barely. I’m holding it in with great effort. Is Jackson right, is it early, or are you headed out to that big rodeo in the sky?” My heart pounded as I gripped the steering wheel and veered around a puddle that took up most of the gravel road.
“Your husband blackmailed me into getting checked. It ain’t much. I told him that I didn’t need you to fuss over me, but more blackmail.” She laughed and patted his knee. “He’s a little bit meddlesome. Do you mind him intruding on your affairs?”
I glanced over at Jackson, looking rumpled and worn as he slept against the glass. “I can’t mind too much that he cares about you.”
“But this Billionaire fiasco? It doesn’t put your teeth on edge? He’s gung ho now, but just wait until you’re giving private trick riding lessons to his amoral acquaintances. He’ll be changing his tune real quick. Wonder what his next scheme will be.”
I snorted. “You think I’m giving anyone private anything, and you’ve sorely misjudged me.”
“That’s got to be the draw, Jessie. Jezabel Whiskey’s private ranch, secluded time playing cowboy with the sequined queen. You should have kept your rack.”
“I was on a horse for fourteen hours yesterday. I’m never going back to the torture.”
She laughed, dry and rattling. “Torture rack. Tell you what, you can lure them here then I’ll give them private lessons. I’ll wear sequins and everything. The shock should do some good.”
I laughed but shook my head. “You’re not lifting a finger until after your treatment. You know how it tires a body.”
She pulled her arms into her body and glared out the windshield.
“Cora, you’ve got to let me take care of you,” I said softly. “Who else will make me behave if you die on me? You know that dad won’t do it.”
She sniffed. “Your father always was a sinner. Don’t know what your mother saw in him. I think she married him just because I didn’t approve.”
“It was love at first sight. That’s why it was so bad for her. Love at first sight is always a mistake.”
She gave me a hard look. “You say that like someone who knows.”
I nodded at Jackson. “It felt like fate, destiny, other childish fancies.”
She elbowed my ribs, and it made me swerve. “He’s playing your game, Jessie. He’s a gambler, and he’s playing for your heart.”
“I’m a better player than he is.”
“So, what are you playing for? If you don’t know, how can you win?”
I rolled my eyes and focused on the road, which was a good thing because the water was still high in a lot of places. When I got back to the JS ranch, the first thing I noticed were the black vans and trucks. They looked like government security.
I reached over Cora and slugged Jackson’s shoulder.
“What?” He said, sitting up, blinking around.
“We were going to discuss your scheme.”
He looked at the black vehicles and shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.” He got out and jogged over to the van, slipping inside before I had time to object.
I got out, and a gentleman got out of each truck in black suits and dark sunglasses, arms crossed while they watched me like I was a threat.
Okay then. “Come on, Cora. Let’s get you set up in the house.”
“I’ve already picked a room. Jackson suggested it since it was furthest from yours. He said that you two might disturb my rest.” She raised her eyebrows at me.
I sighed even while my cheeks heated up. “Seriously, grandma, can you stop talking to him?”
“He’s your husband. Shouldn’t the two of you consider giving me great-grandchildren? You’re not getting any younger. Your eggs are going to be as shriveled as my lungs if you don’t start hatching them soon. Make as much noise as you like. You’re married. You had alligators and everything. You don’t have any of them here, do you?”
I shook my head and smiled at the nearest guy in black. He nodded at me, but kept his stone face. He looked foreign. Should I wait for Jackson? I needed a bath. He’d be up soon enough.
I was falling asleep in the cold tub before I realized that Jackson was not coming. I realized it in the same moment that I knew the guy in the van was not some fancy contractor come to work on the ranch. Gambling. That’s what he was doing instead of coming into my bath with me to talk or not talk about things.
I left the tub, threw on my blue dressing gown, grabbed my rifle, and headed down the stairs.
“Jessie, where are you going like that?” Cora asked, but I ignored her.
I went out onto the porch, marched through the mud in my bare feet, put the rifle to my shoulder and shot the front fender of the van. It dinged and the bullet ricocheted off. I probably shouldn’t be shooting like that, but what was he thinking, gambling on my property?
“Put your weapon down!” One of the stone guys said behind the door of his black truck, the tip of his black gun showing.
“Get off my property!” I roared back and shot at his door.
He scrambled into the truck, slamming the door behind him. I saw him on a phone, face panicked.
“Girl, you don’t go into a gunfight without shoes!” my grandma yelled, throwing my boots at my head.
I ducked behind the fence and pulled on my boots. They’d be all muddy inside. Dang it! When I came back up, Jackson was exiting the van, his hands rising slowly until he had them on the back of his neck.
“Jessie, I’m unarmed. Can I come up?”
“Tell that van to get! You don’t bring your gambling mafia to my ranch. Show some respect!”
He nodded and turned, saying something to the guy in the open van door. There was nodding and bowing, and then the door slammed, and the van and the other black trucks were tearing down my drive. I peppered their rear fenders and so did grandma, just to help them on their way.
When I’d had my fill, I whirled around and headed back inside, my boots squelching from the mud. I propped the rifle beside the front door and hopped around, tugging on my boots.
“Can I help you, Miss Jessie?”
“My bath water ran cold,” I said, turning my back to him.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest, his nose sliding down my neck. “I’m sorry, Jessie. I don’t know what came over me. We can heat up some water on the stove.”
I shook my head. “That’s not necessary. I’ve taken my bath. You’re probably tired. Not too tired to get into trouble, but tired all the same. You’ll have a nice time sleeping on the couch while you rest up. Is there really a crew coming to remodel the ranch or was that just you blowing smoke?”
“I did hire people. I spent a lot of money on it, not as much money as gambling. Sorry, Jessie. Do you really want me to sleep on the couch?” His eyes got all pathetic and sad.
I pushed him towards the stairs. “No, there are plenty of bedrooms for everyone to have their own. You can go take a nap in your room while I get dressed in mine.”
He turned and grabbed my hand, gaze intent. “It was quite careless of me, letting your water get cold. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not my water that’s the problem, it’s you gambling. I’m supposed to be your sponsor. You need consequences for your action. Do you like being in my bed?”
He raised his eyebrows. “This is a trick question. Yes, I prefer to be in your bed, so the punishment should be kicking me out.”
“Not punishment, consequence.”
“
How is that a consequence?”
“My water got cold, so I feel rejected and don’t want you in my bed, all because you let your addiction get the better of you. Natural consequences.”
He stared at me before his lips twitched. “Or the natural consequence of you being cold is that you demand that I warm you up.”
I stared at him. Gamblers were a funny breed. Time wasn’t normal for them. It slowed down or sped up in action or before play, but most things were in the now. My dad had almost missed my birth because when my mom sent someone to get him, he was in the middle of the play. Time stopped, and nothing else existed as his scope became so small, so focused.
I cupped his face and stared into those soft brown eyes. “Jackson, I think that your consequence is to work with your crew to get the place up and going. Maybe billionaires won’t be our targets, but doing some kind of B&B isn’t a terrible idea. There is that whole bunkhouse not being used, and we do need an income, particularly if you’re going to be blowing through money.”
His brows came together. “You don’t want me to warm you up?”
“Not unless it’s building me a fire. A lady doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
His lips twitched. “I don’t suppose you’d like random gifts, either?” He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I stared at it. “Is that a fossilized egg?”
“A sapphire. I won it. It’s a good thing you started shooting, or I’m sure I would have lost it in the next hand.” He put it on my palm and pulled me in for a quick kiss. He pressed his forehead against mine and said real low, “I’m sorry, Jessie. I’m a bit lost, but I’m trying to find my way. Please let me keep landing in your life.”
I kissed him quickly before I pulled away and tossed the sapphire on the mantel. “I’m not giving up on you Jackson. You had a good long streak. Don’t take it too hard. Get up on that horse and ride again.”
He frowned at me. “I really, really wish that van hadn’t been in the driveway. Your water wouldn’t have gotten cold, and I’d be tucked in your bed tangled with you and your sheets.” He sighed heavily and kissed my hand. “Something has to change.”
I shrugged. “That thought is all you need to start with.” I turned my back to him in spite of that look in his eyes. He wanted me, but I wasn’t about to let him think it was okay to make a woman second place to his addiction. I had to say no however hard it was, because it wasn’t good for him. Or me.
Chapter 21
Moving out of Jessie’s bedroom put things into perspective for me. I had to earn the right to get back into her good graces and stay there. I spent the next week working as hard as possible on the bunkhouse, even getting out the old soldering iron to fix the ‘JS Ranch’ sign at the bottom of the drive. I should have sent the van away along with the offer to build ten more plants in a country I’d specifically targeted because of their ideal locations and most polluted waterways. That egg-sized sapphire was one of their country’s greatest possessions, and a huge honor for me to receive.
And now it was on the mantel between an old skinning knife and a dried up orange. Jessie Strait was a lot of things, interior decorator was not one of them. She didn’t mind the furniture that came with the old ranch, and Cora was right at home. That was fine, but for the sake of keeping her ranch solvent independent of my influences, it needed updates.
I made sure that Jessie voiced her opinions, like that it couldn’t be cold and ritzy. I needed her to feel like I was working for her so she’d let me into her bed. And it was going to be a new bed with a new mattress and crisp Egyptian cotton sheets. She wasn’t particular, and I could deal with camping on the ground for awhile, but eventually my rich boy bones would protest and I’d find some downy feathers.
I wasn’t an interior decorator either, but I knew how to hire the best. She looked over the bunkhouses, the barns, the house, and came up with detailed lists in a short amount of time. She was extremely expensive as were her crew, but by the end of a month, everything was painted and the house had a new tub that would fit both of us in case Jessie decided to take a bath with me again.
Jessie worked right alongside me, and it was good, better than good to have her with me. She didn’t quit working except for the days she took Cora to Abilene and Sundays, when everyone had the day off.
Marketing was simple enough. I hired a designer to photo-manipulate Trevor into cowboy gear and posted it on his social media page along with how much he’d loved the cowboy experience. I snickered when I did that. He’d be too out of it to notice probably, but his friends would jump onboard because he always did the trendiest rich boy thing and everyone followed. If he did notice, he’d be good-natured about it. He didn’t care about anything enough to get really upset. Suing people took effort. Even if you hired a bunch of lawyers, they wanted you to sign things. He could do extreme sports for a diversion, but signing papers was work.
I loved her. It was almost painful being near her because it was so much of what I wanted and it would be so difficult to keep her. It took a month before she looked up at me at breakfast and said, “Jackson, will you move back into my bedroom?”
Cora snorted and ate her sausage.
My heart pounded but I tried to look casual. I’d begun to think that she’d be able to do without me indefinitely. “I’d like that.”
Cora shook her head and pointed at Jessie. “You shouldn’t use his sex drive to control him.”
“I’m not! Grandma, can you not use that word?”
The old woman laughed until she started coughing. “Such a strange prude. You can go up to your shoulder in a horse to fish out a foal, but heaven forbid someone speak unseemly. Jackson, she was waiting for you to drop from exhaustion, then you could wake up in her bed. Too bad you’ve got such a strong constitution. Most rich boys don’t seem to.”
“I am not a rich boy. I also got my constitution from my grandfather who was a working man. He married a debutante, but he never let that stop him from bringing home the bacon. Sometimes literally and squealing. Please pass the ketchup.”
That night, I made dinner, using a nice tablecloth and gold leaf plates from the manor. I had candles and everything ready but she took her time coming back from an emergency trip with Sam to a neighbor’s.
Cora had come down, taken one look at my set-up, shook her head and went back up, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll eat the leftovers. Good luck with that girl. She hasn’t been broken yet, unless you’re talking about the time you broke her heart.”
I chilled the champagne and tucked everything into the oven on warm until the front door opened and Jessie came in late, tired, covered in mud and who knew what else.
How could she look that good and that bad at the same time? She froze when she saw the table and the low-burning candles. When her eyes met mine, there was shock and vulnerability. I was almost certain it was real.
“Jackson, what’s all this? I texted that I’d be late. You shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”
I shrugged. “I’m staying up as long as it takes. Do you want me to run a bath for you first and then you eat, or do you want to bathe and eat at the same time?”
She bit her bottom lip and inhaled deeply. “That smells really good. Is it French?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. Sorry. Blackened chicken, artichokes, baby onions, that kind of thing. You’re right, that’s the only thing rich people know how to make. Well, do you want the luxurious pleasure of eating in the bathtub?”
“I think I’d like, well, would you mind if I took a quick shower and got fixed up in something nice and came back down?”
My heart warmed as I smiled at her. “I’d love that.”
She beamed and took off for the stairs, taking them two at a time. I picked up my carving and started working on it, smoothing it down, rubbing it until the mellow wood glowed. It had turned out nicely, if I didn’t say so myself.
When she came down, I stopped breathing. Her ‘something nice’ was a floor-sweep
ing blue-velvet gown with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. It moved beautifully as it clung to every subtle curve.
I’d put on a jacket and tie with my jeans, but this was a dress that called out for a tuxedo. I met her at the bottom of the stairs and held out my arm. She gave me that smile, the one she’d given me the first time I’d seen her when I’d taken her suitcase.
“Thank you,” she said in her soft voice, not the one she used when she was scaring off gambling intruders with her rifle.
I cleared my throat and my mouth went dry. “Mrs. Dewitt, you are a vision.”
She gazed at me with her heart in her eyes and I ached in absolutely every way. I didn’t grab her and kiss her, I pulled out her chair and served her like she was my lady, because she was. I was almost too nervous to eat. By the time I brought her tiramisu for dessert, I’d feasted my eyes on the only thing I wanted. My hands ached to touch her.
I cleared my throat. “So, Sam’s making a veterinarian out of you. How do you feel about it?”
She sighed and rested her chin on her fist. “Honestly, it’s a little overwhelming. I’m not a trained vet, I’m just good with animals. I took a bunch of classes in college, but nothing was very practical. New vet medicine is mostly administering drugs and doing surgeries. I can do basic necessities that can’t wait, but I don’t want people to get the idea that I’m a professional. On the other hand, I love animals and it feels good to be able to help people who might not be able to afford a vet for every little thing. How about you? Are you adapting to life as ranch hand? Going a month without gambling is a big deal.”
It’s almost like she was paying attention to the passage of time with me not in her bed. Maybe she missed me. I leaned back and took my little sculpture out of my pocket and put it in the center of the table. Was I really going to do this? Don’t gamble what you can’t afford to lose. Unless the prize was worth the risk. “Jessie, to be honest, I haven’t been the same since you won the deed. I wanted closure because I couldn’t live the rest of my life haunted by the sweetest, loveliest, most complex and fascinating woman I’d ever met, not if I couldn’t have her.” I pushed the statue across the table. It was of Jessie riding a bucking horse, back arched, hand outstretched. “Jessie, I don’t just want to be in your bed, I want a real marriage. I want to love you and care for you in sickness and health until the stars fall from the sky. If I fall, I want to fall with you and land where you land.”
