When Love's Gone Country (Sequel two of the Embracing Love Trilogy)

by Merri Hiatt

  “I am. I never thought I’d find someone like Alex. He’s amazing. A bit of a worrier and stubborn as hell, but amazing.”

  “So, no more stopping yourself from saying how happy you are. No more rubbing your tummy then looking at me with those sad eyes. No more changing the baby conversation to something else when I walk in the room. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir. Ma’am.” At Meg’s scowl, Purity amended again, “Meg.”

  As they walked back to the car, Bobby looked pointedly at his watch. “I thought we had a schedule to keep?”

  “As creator of the schedule, it’s mine to keep. I say we’re right on time.”

  “Now women even rule the clock,” Alex said.

  “Why not, they rule everything else,” Brad said.

  “Now that we’ve got that settled,” Courtney said, “why don’t we bust out the last leg of this trip and get to the ranch already.”

  Heads nodded in agreement all around.

  “Maybe just one bathroom break,” Purity suggested.

  “Folks in each car can choose when and where to stop, but make it short. If we want to actually see any of the ranch, we need to get there before sundown.”

  “Why pardn’r, I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all day,” Bobby said.

  “Sundown at the Double Y. Sounds like a good title for a movie,” Court said.

  While they were talking, Jacob and Jeremy had settled into the back seat of the convertible.

  “Are you guys coming?” Jeremy asked.

  “And a child shall lead them,” Purity said.

  “Text or call if you need anything. We’ll try to stay within eyesight on the highway, but you know how that is,” Meg said.

  The sun was low in the sky when the group met up under the Double Y Ranch sign.

  “We made it!” Jeremy said, excitement replacing his dour disposition for the latter half of the car ride. “Look, there’s horses and cows and sheep.”

  “Is that a silo over there?” Meg asked.

  “Looks like more than one. Probably for grain,” Bobby said.

  “The directions said to go through the gate and then veer to the right and follow the path to the ranch hand quarters,” Meg said.

  Everyone returned to their vehicles and followed Meg and Bobby.

  “This is a long road,” Jeremy said.

  “Sure seems like it,” Meg said.

  “At least it’s paved,” Bobby noted. “Think that’s the building over there?”

  “I see a parking lot, so I’d say yes.”

  They all pulled up and parked, then retrieved their luggage from the trailer.

  “I need more hands,” Courtney said.

  “We can always make a second trip,” Brad said.

  “Second trips are for wimps.” Courtney managed to double up on her bags, crisscrossing them over her shoulders. “I’ve got ‘em on me, but I’m not sure I can walk.”

  Brad chuckled. “Give me at least one of those. I only brought two bags.”

  “If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. ‘Til then, just call me Wonder Woman.”

  “Did you pack your bullet-deflecting bracelets?”

  “I did. And my truth-telling rope. I’m dangerous, I tell ya.”

  When they had all made their way across the asphalt to their quarters, they opened the door.

  “It’s dark in here. Turn on the lights,” Meg said.

  “Can’t find ‘em,” Bobby said as he felt around the wall for a switch.

  “There has to be one,” Court said, bumping into Bob as she searched for any protrusion on the wall. “Wait, I feel something.” Her hands slid across glass and metal. “It’s a lantern, I think.”

  “Are their matches?” Bob asked.

  Courtney felt around the table the lantern was sitting on. “Yes. Do you know how to work these things?”

  “I do.”

  Court thrust the box of matches into the darkness. “Let there be light.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “I handed you the matches. Put your hand out.”

  “I can’t see a damned thing in here.” Bob’s hand hit the box of matches. He took one out and struck it across the side of the box. A flash of light flooded the area and he lit the lantern.

  “There’s six of ‘em,” Jeremy said.

  “Better light them all,” Meg said. “This place is huge.”

  When all the lanterns were lit, they turned their gaze toward the room. They stood in stunned silence. All eyes surveying the long barracks. Bunk beds lined the walls with a locker and metal chair on either side.

  “It’s gray,” Jeremy said. “Where are the mattresses?”

  “I don’t think there are any,” Court said. “Meg, are you sure you booked us at the right ranch?”

  “Positive.”

  Two wooden picnic tables sat in the middle of the room. No other furniture could be seen. Windows were covered with what appeared to be burlap sacks, allowing only small specks of light to peer through.

  The steady drip of water could be heard, piercing the quiet.

  Purity screamed, then curled her body against Alex. “Mouse!” Her eyes were closed as she shuddered. “I cannot sleep in a room with a rat!”

  “There must be some mistake,” Alex said, running his hand along Purity’s back to soothe her. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Well, hello. Thought I saw you come up to the main gate. Welcome to the Double Y. I’m Francis J. Peterman. My friends just call me Frank. My wife, Emma, and I have been runnin’ this place for nigh on to forty years now. We’re glad to have you aboard.”

  “Mr. Peterman—”

  Frank held up his hand.

  “Frank. I think there’s been some confusion here.”

  “I’m not sleeping in a room with a rat!” Purity’s voice edged higher with each word.

  “Oh, they won’t hurt you none. They’re too busy chasing the snakes.”

  “Snakes?” Meg asked, her eyes widening as she looked at Bobby and then over her shoulder.

  Bob put his hands up in the air. “I didn’t bring ‘em.”

  “Your brochure didn’t say anything about snakes or rats or sleeping in a cold room on beds with no mattresses,” Meg said.

  “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout the brochure. Walter takes care of all that. Walter’s my son.”

  “How you folks doin’?” Emma Peterman walked through the door in a faded pair of overalls and hip boots. “Don’t mind me, I just been out catchin’ and guttin’ fish.”

  The fishy smell made Purity’s stomach reel. She pressed her hand against her stomach in an attempt to keep down the chicken sandwich she’d eaten a few hours ago.

  “Dinner’ll be ready in about half an hour. Go on and get settled. We’ll bring it on out to ya. And, welcome,” Emma said.

  She and Frank left the bewildered group staring at the empty space where they had been standing.

  “Maybe we should just stay here tonight and try to get things straightened out in the morning. We’ll all feel better after we’ve had something to eat and some sleep,” Brad said.

  “I’m not sleeping in a room with a rat,” Purity said, looking around for signs of the intruder.

  “It wasn’t a rat, it was a mouse. A little, teeny, tiny mouse.”

  “Alex—”

  “I know. I know. We’ve already hauled all our stuff in. I think Brad’s right. Let’s just get some rest and some food and we’ll figure it all out tomorrow.”

  “If I get bit by a rat, you know who I’m taking it out on, right?”

  “I am painfully aware.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. No one’s going to get any sleep with these springs pokin’ ‘em in the ass all night,” Court said, pushing down on one and feeling the pressure against her hand.

  “Is there even a bathroom?” Purity asked.

  “Probably an outhouse,” Bobby said.

  “That had better be a joke.”

  Bobby
rubbed his chin. “I wouldn’t take bets on it.”

  Chapter Ten

  They all staked out their beds, such as they were, with Jacob and Jeremy taking the two at the far end, away from everyone else.

  When the Peterman’s returned with a wheelbarrow filled with a black kettle, cast iron plates with high sides and a basket filled with bread, they were all ready to fill their bellies with a good meal.

  “Emma outdid herself today, bringing you her famous fish head stew.” Frank lifted the pot lid to reveal fish heads in a broth so thick it looked like Jell-o. Fish eyes stared up at the onlookers as they peered into the pot.

  “That’s it!” Meg declared, getting up from the bench and planting her feet firmly twelve inches from the Peterman’s bodies. “I want my money back right now and I’m going to sue you for false advertising.”

  “Meg,” Bobby started.

  Meg didn’t slow down for a second. “What are you trying to pull here? How many other people have you done this bait and switch to? We came here looking for a chance to work at a real ranch and this is how we’re treated!

  We’ve driven all day, we’re tired and we paid for, for, for THIS!” She flung her hand out to encompass the fish, the room and even the mouse that had poked its head out hoping to get a bite of stew.

  “Should you tell ‘em or should I?” Emma asked.

  “You tell ‘em. It’ll probably sound better comin’ from you,” Frank said.

  “You can tell a lot about a person by how they react to circumstances beyond their control.” Suddenly Emma’s hillbilly accent faded away. “This is how we greet all newcomers to the Double Y. Most take off as soon as we leave to go get dinner. A few stick around, figuring they’ll get things straightened out in the morning. No one has ever tried the fish head stew.”

  Frank took over. “This ranch hand quarter is one of the originals, the others have all been refurbished and updated. If you’d have been hired to work the ranch back in the fifties, this is exactly what it would have been like.”

  “Right down to the mouse in the corner,” Emma added with a warm smile.

  “Follow us over one bunker and we’ll show you where you’ll really be staying. We have a feast waiting for you, too,” Frank said with a wink. “They’ll get your belongings and bring ‘em over.” Six burly ranch hands came through the door with gloved hands, booted feet and Stetson’s on their heads.

  “Well… that’s more like it,” Meg said.

  “Thank God I’m not going to have to share my bed with a rat,” Purity said.

  It wasn’t until they were halfway to the new quarters that Bobby realized the boys hadn’t followed them. Meg began retracing their steps.

  “I’ll go,” Bob said. “You go ahead with the rest of the group.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. And, Meg, if they want to stay, I’m going to let them.”

  Meg bit her lower lip, but shook her head. She didn’t know if it was wise or not, but what else could they do? At least it would make the boys feel like they had some kind of control.

  “Hey guys,” Bobby said as he approached the boys. “If you want to stay here, instead of moving over to the new place, that’s okay.”

  “Really?” Jacob asked, surprised that Meg would let him out of her sight. “Mom’s okay with that?”

  “She is.”

  “I’d like to stay here, but I don’t really want to get bit by a rat. Can I come look at the new place and then decide?” Jeremy asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Is that okay with you?” Jeremy asked Jacob.

  “Do whatever you want. It’s your life.”

  Jeremy wasn’t sure if that was a yes or a no, but sleeping without worrying about getting bit sure sounded better.

  “Why don’t you come over for some food, then you can come back here and unpack?”

  Jacob didn’t say anything, but he followed Bob and Jeremy.

  When they opened the door to the second ranch hand quarters, Jeremy let out a resounding, “Wow! I’m staying here!”

  The open floor plan was gone, replaced with individual bedrooms, along with a living room right out of a Bonanza episode. A large dining table could be seen on the far side of the room. The kitchen was located off the dining room with a full staff hard at work.

  Leather chairs and couches were set in a u-shape around a fireplace as tall as Diego when he was up on his hind legs.

  Muted jewel tones of green, blue and red punctuated the décor tastefully, along with plenty of wood begging to have a finger run along the grain of mahogany, cherry, pine and oak. Antlers from various wooded creatures hung above the fireplace.

  “This looks like the brochure,” Meg said.

  The Peterman’s laughed good-naturedly. Frank said, “Thanks for being such good sports. We’ve got some hard work ahead of us and we need to separate the chaff from the wheat right from the get-go.”

  “Are we chaff or wheat?” Jeremy asked.

  “You’re a hard worker,” Frank said, “and that’s what we’re lookin’ for.”

  A meal of pot roast with root vegetables, salad with freshly ripened tomatoes, corn on the cob and blackberry cobbler was eaten with great enthusiasm.

  “I have died and gone to heaven,” Courtney said. “You guys can go do all the work. I’ll just stay here and eat.”

  “Nice try,” Purity said. “If we’re working, you’re working.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Get a good rest tonight,” Frank said. “We rise before the roosters around here.”

  “He’s not kidding,” Emma said. “One of the ranch hands will be by to wake you in the morning. You’ll have less than fifteen minutes to get dressed and head down to the fire pit for instructions.”

  When Emma left, Jeremy said, “No breakfast?”

  “On a ranch, you tend to the animals first, yourself second,” Alex said.

  “I think I liked California better’n this.”

  Courtney laughed as she put her arms around his shoulders. “Me, too. Maybe it will get better.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  Bobby noticed Jacob heading back toward the other ranch hand quarters. “Night, son.”

  Jacob nodded.

  “If you change your mind, there’s a room at the end of the hall for you. You can have it all to yourself,” Meg said.

  “I won’t need it.” Jacob made his way back to the sterile barracks. It seemed to fit his mood. Two of the lanterns had run out of kerosene, but four were still lit. He sat at the picnic table, reaching into his pocket to remove a roll he’d stashed away at dinner. He pulled off two small pieces and placed them at the far end of the table.

  It wasn’t long before a scurrying sound caught his attention.

  “It’s okay. I brought it for you. We’re going to be sharing this space for a few weeks. I figured we should be friends.”

  The mouse stared at him, but remained hesitant.

  “I’ll just leave it there for you. I don’t really know what to call you. I guess just mouse. Doesn’t really seem to fit you, though.

  I’m going to go to sleep. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bite me or anything, but I get it if you feel like you need to protect your space. I’d do the same thing if someone busted in on my territory.”

  Jeremy left three of the lights burning and took one with him to the end of the barracks where he sat it on a chair. He gathered all the blankets, laying all but two on the old springs. The other two he used to cover himself and keep warm, keeping his shoes on in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

  Yeah, he knew about protecting what little was his. His hand curled around the gun handle in his pocket. His father had taught him that. One of the few things he had learned from Paul Reese.

  He’d been at him again that night, but it was different. Jacob had the ritual down. Knew what his dad would say and how he would say it. Threatening with his tone and body language, as well as his words. He was in control and they both kn
ew it. But one day, one day Jacob would be the one in control.

  Instead of following his routine, he had shown concern over a bruise he saw on Jacob’s shoulder. He’d told him to take his shirt off so he could get a better look at it.

  Jacob was leery, as he always was of any kind of gentle care either of his parents showed him, but he did as he was told.

  When Paul Reese told him to remove his pants for a full body check, Jacob knew this time was different. He said he didn’t feel well, like he was going to throw up.

  “If you throw up, you’ll be eating it with a spoon for breakfast.”

  He’d grabbed one of the belt loops on Jacob’s jeans and pulled him into his lap. Jacob fought, as he always did, even though it made his father madder.

  Blood and pain weren’t new to him, but this kind of invasion tore a hole in his soul. When his father said, “Just remember, if you don’t do what I say, I’ve got little Jeremy to go to,” something snapped inside Jacob.

  He endured the rest of his dad’s physical torture. He slapped him on the butt for the last time, leaving a red hand stain, then left the room.

  Jacob found him in the recliner in the living room drinking a beer and watching Cops. It hadn’t been hard to find the gun. Paul Reese made no secret of where he kept it, or where the bullets could be found.

  Jacob held the fire arm with both hands. No sign of hesitation. No quivering. No regret in his heart.

  When his father saw him, he laughed. “Be careful now, son, you might put your eye out with that thing.”

  His father was laughing when Jacob pulled the trigger. He’d been aiming for his heart, but ended up skimming his kneecap.

  “Son of a bitch! You shot me. You little mother fucker! You shot me.”

  Jacob ran into his room, stuffed his and Jeremy’s clothes in a bag along with a few other items, then woke Jeremy. “Come on. We’re leavin’.”

  “Where we goin?”

  “Away from here.”

  “Are we comin’ back?”

  “Never.”

  “What the hell’d you do to your knee?” Amanda Reese asked her husband.

  “Your damn kid shot me.”

  Amanda laughed callously. “He better learn to aim better.”