by Mae Nunn
Stella sat still, peering at her. She seemed entirely comfortable waiting for Jacqueline’s answer.
“Well, they’re drifters. They’re good parents, I think. I was never abused or anything. And we certainly had an interesting life moving around, trying different things. But the way you all feel about Kilgore—the deep sense of home you guys all have here—that has never existed in my life.”
“What about your grandparents?”
“The only one living is my grandma in Iowa. And I’m close to her. She’s the closest thing to home I’ve got.”
“You have any siblings?”
“I have one brother, Sam. He’s a missionary.”
“Fascinating.”
“It is. Especially since we never went to church much growing up. Something happened to him in college—he had a conversion experience that seems to propel him in his life now.”
“Where does he live?”
“Right now he’s stationed on a missionary base in Hawaii.”
Stella grinned. “Sounds like a tough job.”
“I know, right?” Jacqueline said. “And soon he leaves the base on a ship for a mission in the South Pacific. Although it’s not exactly a luxury cruise.”
Their conversation continued like this well into the evening. Jacqueline returned Stella’s questions with some deep ones of her own, genuinely interested in the woman who had won Joiner Temple’s heart. She became privy to all of the Temple family dynamics. As they sat together, the hours peeled away like the layers of an onion, revealing more of who each woman was on the inside. Finally, Jacqueline rose to go.
“You should have just brought clothes. We could have had a slumber party,” Stella said, patting the baby on the back to coax a burp.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jacqueline asked.
“This.”
“I could come back if you want. Bring takeout or something?”
“Sounds great to me.”
As she followed Stella and Joiner’s long driveway through Buster’s pasture, Jacqueline felt a peacefulness settle over her like a blanket. She crossed the cattle guard and saw Buster’s house—the house where Stella grew up—and then the Lone Star symbol that adorned the big red barn of Star Stables. Her heart warmed with a sudden desire to talk to Mac. She called him on her cell.
“Hello?”
“Hey, boss.”
“How are you?”
“Sorry it’s kind of late. I hope you weren’t in bed.”
“I am, actually, but not asleep. Joiner’s just calling Stella.”
“In the same room?”
“No, he’s in the bathroom.”
Jacqueline giggled.
“We’ve got this suite with a king-size bed and the bathroom’s as big as the office—the whole office.”
“Oh, my goodness.”
“I know. It’s got a hot tub in it and skylights. I think Joiner’s wishing Stella was here.”
“Well, she misses him, too.”
“That’s right—you two spent the evening together.”
“I’m just now leaving her place.”
“Wow—must have been fun.”
“It was. We talked for hours—really got to know each other a lot better.”
“That’s nice.”
“We’re doing it again tomorrow.”
“Cool.”
“How has your day been?”
“So-so.” Mac sounded tired. “I mean, this is beautiful country. But...”
“The search for your grandfather’s grave has been a disappointment, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Mac sighed. “It has.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“At least you have the peace of knowing you tried, that you’ve done everything you could.”
Mac cleared his throat. “I don’t have a peace about it, though. That’s just it. I seem to have run out of options, but I still don’t have any closure. I wanted answers.”
After a pause, Jacqueline spoke softly. “Maybe finding nothing is your answer.”
* * *
JACQUELINE PUT ON comfortable ripped jeans and a camisole under her silk blouse. Rife with swirling blooms and spirited accents, it was a joyful top. But she picked it because it was soft, and she hoped to snuggle Lilianna against it later that evening. She rolled a printed scarf and doubled it, tying it around her neck. The patterns mismatched, but the warm evening sky tones of the scarf and blouse complemented each other at the same time. Her red leather peacoat, with its distressed look and double rows of buttons, and her fringed, studded ankle boots tied the outfit all together. Checking Nemesis’s food and water bowls again, she kissed the cat’s head, grabbed her overnight bag and headed out the door.
Instead of ordering takeout, Jacqueline decided to stop by Whole Foods on her way to Stella’s. There she picked up her favorite things, hoping Stella would like them, too. It was a pretty random selection by the time she checked out: baguette, wheat sourdough bread with hazelnuts, Gruyere, Irish butter, red and green grapes, strawberries, blueberries, peaches and cantaloupe, plus Greek yogurt, walnuts and pecans. For a treat, she picked up Aztec hot chocolate and some goat’s milk, and a hazelnut chocolate bar. Then she whizzed through Sonic for Stella’s one request: a large vanilla Diet Coke with extra vanilla and extra ice.
When she rang the doorbell, balancing all of her bags, she could hear the baby crying inside.
“Come in!” Stella yelled.
Jacqueline let herself in. A haggard-looking Stella was in the calfskin rocker, trying to get Lilianna to nurse. She looked up at Jacqueline with wild eyes.
“I’ll just go set these down in the kitchen.” Jacqueline unpacked the groceries, putting away what needed to go in the refrigerator.
By the time she returned, the baby was calmer, and so was Stella. Jacqueline noticed she had on the same clothes as the day before.
“How are you?” she asked tentatively.
Stella laughed. “I am crazy with a capital C. But better now that you are here. My dad was supposed to come over earlier so I could take a shower, but we’ve had some trouble with one of the horses so he had to stay at the stables.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
“I don’t think so—but serious enough he couldn’t leave.”
“What can I do to help you?” Jacqueline sat down on the edge of the sofa.
“When she’s done nursing, I’m hoping you can hold her while I take a shower and change these lovely clothes.”
Jacqueline laughed. “Sure. No problem. I’ve been waiting to get my hands on her all day.”
“What did you bring us to eat? Although you can’t tell from this flabby gut, I am also starving.”
“I don’t see any gut.”
“Oh, yes. It’s there. The joys of my C-section.”
* * *
WHEN THE BABY finished nursing, Stella handed her to Jacqueline. “That’s it,” she said, “just keep one hand on her neck for support.”
Jacqueline sat down in the rocker with the baby on her shoulder. “Take your time,” she told Stella. “We’re going to get to know each other a little better.”
As she rocked Lilianna, she patted the baby’s tiny bottom. Her downy head brushed Jacqueline’s cheek and it felt like velvet. She kissed the little girl’s neck. It smelled like baby lotion. Apparently, even though Stella hadn’t gotten a shower, she had given the baby a bath. Her clean pink gown was as soft as Jacqueline’s silk shirt.
She put her ear to Lily’s mouth. She loved the sound of her even breathing, the shape of her rosebud lips. As Jacqueline rocked the little girl, it was as though invisible threads were weaving themselves between her and the baby. They were bonding, and the flow of lo
ve was so easy and natural. Perhaps this is how it happens, Jacqueline thought. And for the first time, she offered no resistance.
Jacqueline was singing softly when Stella returned in fresh pajamas.
“Did you sing her to sleep?”
“I guess I did.”
“What was that song?”
“It’s a Zambian lullaby. I learned it at KARIS.”
“That is so cool,” Stella commented, drying her hair with a towel. “You’ve had so many amazing experiences.”
“Do you feel better? Are you ready for some supper?”
“I feel human again!” Stella declared. “And I would love some supper.”
“Well, you’re going to have to fix it because I’m holding the baby.” Jacqueline glanced sideways at her, winking.
“It’s a deal. You can hold her all night if she’ll let you.” Stella walked over to the chair and bent over Jacqueline and the baby. “She is such a sweetie, isn’t she?”
“She’s a dream.”
Stella took her towel back to the bathroom. When she returned, she asked, “So what do I need to do?”
“I hope you like this, but I just went to Whole Foods and gathered up all of my favorite things. There’s fresh bread and some good cheese and butter, and then yummy fruit. I thought you might need some protein so there’s Greek yogurt and nuts to add to it. For dessert, there’s hot chocolate, and more chocolate.”
“Sounds delicious!”
“Oh—and I put your vanilla Diet Coke in the fridge—extra ice in the freezer.”
“I think Mac has found a keeper!”
A smile exploded across Jacqueline’s face. She’d seen a glimpse of what she could have—a sister, brothers, a niece. And she wanted it all. She wanted Mac.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE REST OF the trip was anticlimactic for the Temple brothers. Mac found nothing else to ease his questions about his grandfather’s death, and Joiner found no more wild mustang herds. And while Clint wined and dined them at his house in Jackson Hole, one of the most extravagant places Mac had ever seen, each could hardly wait to head home to Kilgore. If anything, the trip had taught Mac to appreciate the things right in front of him rather than chasing ghosts of the past—and that applied to Jacqueline in particular.
Sunday morning on their way to the airport, they stopped in Jackson Hole so Clint could pick up a gift for his wife at her favorite jewelry store. After Joiner and Mac spent a few minutes inside, they decided to take a walk and let Clint finish his business. Twenty-five-thousand-dollar diamond tennis bracelets simply weren’t in the cards for them at this time.
Joiner suggested they go into a few ladies’ clothing stores.
Mac shot him a questioning look.
Joiner shrugged. “These are cool stores for women. I know about these things. Seriously.”
Mac laughed, but acquiesced. Why not? They were just killing time, anyway.
Inside, however, he had to admit Joiner was right. Many items in each store reminded him of Jacqueline—her easy, natural glamour. And it all had a Western flair Stella would like.
They perused the aisles together and Joiner picked out a denim jumpsuit for Stella. It had diagonal zippers and snaps, and the material gathered at the waist.
“I wish I’d found that first,” Mac admitted. It was unique and effortlessly chic.
“You think you could guess Jacqueline’s size?”
“I’ve studied her body quite a bit. I think I could judge her size fairly accurately.”
“Ooh. Bro. TMI.”
“Not like that, Joiner.” Mac rolled his eyes. “I just meant—”
“I think I know what you meant.”
Mac stepped away from his brother to look at the shoes. He did know that Jacqueline wore a size nine in boots, and a unique pair caught his eye. They were authentic cobra, and turquoise blue, with snip toes and black pick-stitch accents on the toe and shaft. They looked to have about a two-inch heel. They screamed Jacqueline’s name.
Mac looked at the price tag. Yikes. But he loved them. They were unusual, and besides, he appreciated all of the work Jacqueline had done for him. Without her, he’d never have been able to come on the trip. Thinking of them as a bonus, as well as a souvenir, he plunked down his money.
Hours later, when Clint’s pilot pulled into the hangar at Kilgore Airport, it was six o’clock in the evening. Instead of going home, Mac headed straight to Jacqueline’s house. The moment he’d bought the boots he’d decided to surprise her.
He patted the package as he pulled into her driveway. Stepping out of his truck, he knocked at the side door, the one he was accustomed to using. No one answered. That was odd. And he couldn’t see any lights on. But her car was there. Where could she be? He walked around to the front door and rang the doorbell and knocked. Still no answer. He was just rounding the other side of the house when someone tackled him, making him drop the boots and almost knocking him off his feet.
“Jacqueline!”
She was in running gear, with her hair loosely braided underneath a hat. Her cheeks were red with cold.
“Mac, you’re home!”
He threw his arms around her and she clasped his face in her icy hands.
“I missed you,” she said, kissing him on the lips.
She tasted like winter, so cool and refreshing. Mac kissed her back, harder. For a moment, he forgot his resolve to take things slower, to not be swept away by the snowball of his emotions. All of the pent-up feelings of frustration, disappointment—even fear—of his unanswered questions seemed to find their release in her arms, her face, her lips. He held her tight as she leaned into him. Their bodies meshed.
When they came up for air, Jacqueline was laughing. Mac saw a change in her. After just these few days, she was even more beautiful than before. There was something more relaxed about her—less pensive. What was it?
“You can’t leave me again.”
They walked hand in hand toward her side door. She pulled the key out of a pocket in her sock and turned it in the lock, and they both took off their shoes in the foyer.
Jacqueline swiped a hand across her forehead. “Is it okay with you if I take a quick shower? I’m sweaty.”
“Sure.” He followed her into the kitchen, where she put on a kettle of water for tea.
“Nemesis will keep you company.”
The cat purred and rubbed against Mac’s legs. He picked her up and petted her. “Don’t take too long. I don’t care about a little sweat.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s in the bag?”
“Oh, just a little something for someone who showers quickly.”
“That will be me.” She patted his shoulder and skipped away.
When she returned, she was wearing pajama pants the color of lilacs. They were paired with a white camisole and heather-gray ruffled cardigan. Her feet were adorned with white terry-cloth flip-flops. To Mac’s delight, he noticed her toes were painted a pale pink hue.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” He held up his arms in resignation.
“In this?” Jacqueline scoffed.
“That’s what I call sexy lingerie.”
“I’ll have you know this is loungewear.” She shuffled to the stove and grabbed the kettle. Then she returned to the table and poured two cups of tea.
“Loungewear, huh?”
“Loungewear.”
The way she said the word made him want to kiss her, but he held off. He handed her the bag with the boots.
“Oh, Mac!” She shrieked when she opened them. “These are so beautiful.”
Mac grinned, heaving a sigh of relief. “I was hoping I knew you that well. Do you really like them?”
“Like them? I love them. Thank you!” She shrugged of
f her flip-flops and put the boots on right there in the kitchen. Then she walked the length of the room, modeling them as if she was on a catwalk. She sauntered back to him and he held out his arms.
“They look great on you.”
“They’re too much.”
“They’re a souvenir—and a thank-you—for taking care of the office so I could go.”
She looped her hands through his and pulled him to his feet. “Well, you’re welcome. But you’re not going anywhere else without me—for a long time.”
“Is that so?”
“’Tis.” She kissed him on the nose, the eyes, the cheeks, the forehead, the chin and then the lips.
They took their teas into the living room, where they sat together on the couch. Jacqueline peppered him with questions about his trip, and he told her any details he’d left out over the phone.
“I’m happy for Joiner about the horses,” he said. “I think he has direction now about starting his foundation.” Mac ran his hand through his hair. “So the trip was a success in that sense. But I don’t know where to go from here with Pap’s grave and trying to find closure. I’m beginning to think neither one may exist.”
She traced her fingers along his hand. “It’s so weird that while your trip ended like that for you, I think I actually found some direction for myself while you were gone.”
“Really?” Mac raised his eyebrows. “That’s great. What’s going on?”
“The first thing is that I found out about a new humanitarian project I want to pursue.”
Mac’s breath caught in his throat. “With KARIS? Where is it?”
“That’s the best part. It’s here. But I don’t think it will be with KARIS. I think I’ll kind of be on my own.”
“Is this what you wanted Alma’s number for?”
“Yes! I want to start a home for immigrant children. Here in Kilgore.”
God in heaven, thought Mac. But he said, “Hmm. You’ll have to tell me more.”
“I will,” Jacqueline said. Her eyes were shining.
“But Mac, there’s another thing I want to tell you about even more.”
