The Cowboy's Housekeeper Read online

  Her eyes scanned the pastel paper, trying to read Mrs. Houseman’s scratchy writing. “Don’t worry about the lease, dear,” she wrote. “There was a young girl by here this morning wanting to know if the apartment was available, and though I’ll miss you something fierce, I know your place is at home right now. I’ll be happy to pack your belongings and send them along to you.”

  Jessica’s eyes teared up as she folded the letter back up. Her plans to make Jason fall in love with her again were as far away as ever. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of moving back into Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey’s house at the end of this six month arrangement, but dismissed it. In all likelihood, she’d have to return home in Austin permanently. Unless things changed, she would never be able to live here in this town when she and Jason parted. She would never be able to live in the small town with him, seeing him married to Monica. No, she couldn’t live through that. Instead of coming out of this “arrangement” unscathed, she had succeeded only in falling in love more deeply with Jason.

  Jessica sighed. She would write Mrs. Houseman and ask her to hold the apartment for her. Her heart heavy, she returned to the house to do that.

  As she entered the kitchen, phone shrilled. She jerked the phone off its cradle. She wasn’t in the mood for a phone conversation this morning. “Hello!”

  “Wow, I’m sorry,” Maureen Winters’s voice apologized. “The day this young and going so bad already?”

  “Bad isn’t the word,” Jessica told her. “This whole week has been the pits.”

  “Well, old Dr. Winters has just the right prescription. Let’s go out to lunch and do some shopping.”

  “I can’t,” Jessica responded, toying absently with a lock of hair. “Jason has invited Willis and Marcy over for dinner this evening. I have to do the shopping for that, and then come home and tear up the house.”

  “Tear up the house?” Maureen laughed. “Don’t you mean clean up the house?”

  Oops. She didn’t intend to say that. “Uh, yeah. Listen, Maureen, I’m sorry, but I can’t chat right now. Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “Sure, no problem,” Maureen said. “I’ll talk to you then.”

  Jessica placed the receiver and gave it a threatening look which forbade it to ring again. She hurried to the bathroom for a quick shower, then donned a pair of white slacks with a navy-blue top, applied a light coat of mascara to her lashes and a touch of gloss to her pink lips. She then twisted her thick hair into a knot, pinned it securely to the top of her head, and pulled free a few wispy tendrils to hang down the sides and back. Satisfied with her work, she picked up the keys to the Lincoln from the basket that was lying on the kitchen counter and let herself out the back door.

  She cruised to the market slowly in the elegant luxury of Jason’s air-conditioned car. Songs from her favorite CD, “Hooked on Classics,” drifted from the elaborate stereo system She parked the Continental in front of Mr. Sweeney’s store and jumped out onto the hot pavement. The cool air inside the store instantly dried the perspiration that had erupted during the short walk from the car to the building. Grabbing a cart, she started down the aisle, fighting the temptation to squeeze the Charmin as the old toilet paper commercial emerged from childhood memory.

  At the meat counter, she selected the hamburger that looked as if it had the most suet in it. She wanted her meatloaf to be just right, with enough grease to float a battleship. Continuing down the aisle, she handpicked the vegetables to go into the meatloaf. The green pepper was so limp and tough she would have to use the electric carving knife to chop it up. A cart of discarded lettuce sat next to the produce department—heads of brown wilted lettuce ready to be taken to the back to be dumped. She stopped her cart next to it and casually selected the sickest-looking head in the basket. With a smug smile, she plunked it into her cart.

  When she came to the check-out stand, Mr. Sweeney greeted her warmly and started to remove the items from Jessica’s cart. When he reached for the head of lettuce his face paled.

  “Jessica, let me get you another head.” He left his register and started for the produce counter.

  “No, Mr. Sweeney, that one will do just fine.”

  He gave her a puzzled look. “But this was going to be thrown away. I’ll get you a fresh, crisp head that we just unpacked. It won’t take a minute.”

  “No.” Jessica stood firm. “That’s the one I want.”

  Mr. Sweeney looked helpless. Finally, he shrugged. “Well, I’m certainly not going to charge you for it.” He finished ringing up the items in her cart.

  Leaving the store feeling satisfied, Jessica drove home humming under her breath. “This will definitely be a meal they won’t forget, Jason.” she muttered.

  At home, she unloaded her groceries and brought them in, setting the brown paper bags on the kitchen counter. After she put the perishables in the refrigerator and the canned goods in the cabinet, she tore around the living room disarranging throw pillows, draping various items of clothing over chairs, scattering newspapers haphazardly around.

  She sprinkled a sack of popcorn on the floor and threw a couple of pairs of Jason’s boots, covered with cow dung, next to his chair. She set several glasses full of ice on the end tables. It would be melted by the time the guests arrived. Standing back, she admired the mess she’d created. It would do. Now for the food.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon working on the meal itself, not bothering to wash up any of the dishes after she used them. Instead, she left them sitting around on the cabinet to grow dry and crusty. The floor looked like it had snowed from all the flour she scattered around while mixing her cake. She had a great time, humming under her breath and working as hard as a beaver.

  When Jason opened the door that evening, the house looked like the predicted approaching storm had already hit. She concealed herself behind the doorsill and peeked to see his reaction. His eyes widened in astonishment before he pulled a calm mask over his face.

  He stepped into the room and called over his shoulder. “Come on in, Eric. Jessie must be in the kitchen.”

  Eric?

  Jason’s younger brother, Eric, followed him through the door, talking as he walked. “I can’t wait to see her after all these years. I bet she’ll be surprised. She doesn’t know I’m here, does she?” Eric came to a halt, his eyes mirroring Jason surprise as he surveyed the living room.

  Jessica jerked back into the safety of the kitchen and swallowed a groan. Why did he pick today to show up?

  “Yes, I bet she will be surprised,” Jason agreed. “I tried to call her this morning when I found out you were flying in, but I couldn’t reach her.”

  Drat! She’d left her cell phone at home on the charger when she went to the store, and had been too busy to check it since she returned home.

  “Well, I sure wish Rena could have made the trip, but Scottie had a summer cold, so she thought she had better stay home with him this time.”

  “Maybe the next trip.”

  She peeked around the corner in time to see Jason pitch the cat’s bowl out of his chair. He motioned to Eric to take a seat.

  “Jessie has changed things quite a bit.” Jason stretched out in his chair. “You wouldn’t recognize this old house.”

  Eric’s reply sounded wary. “No, that’s for sure.”

  Her shaky knees nearly dumped her on the floor. This was not turning out at all as she’d hoped.

  Calm down. Eric always had a great sense of humor. Maybe he’ll think it’s funny as the evening progresses.

  She shouted into the living room. “Are our guests here yet, Jason?”

  “Part of them, Angel. Come on out here. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Was that a snicker she heard in his voice?

  Drawing a breath for strength, she stepped through the doorway and made of show of Jessica stopping dead in her tracks. “Eric?”

  Eric jumped up from his chair, crossed the room, swooped her off her feet in a tremendous bear hug, and swung her
around the room.

  “My Lord, you’re prettier than ever.” His grin stretched from ear to ear.

  Eric wasn’t as tall as Jason, but he possessed the same golden-brown hair and luscious green eyes. He’d always been the biggest tease of all the boys and usually said the first thing that popped into his head, regardless of decorum.

  “Why in the world would you want to get hooked up with this bum again?” He pointed at Jason and grinned broadly.

  Jessica replied in a light tone. “Oh, we still hate each other. I’m only working for him now. It’s strictly a ‘business agreement’.”

  Jason gave her a big grin and a mock salute with his hand. “Touché.”

  “Well, if I had known you weren’t too particular who you worked for, I would have been down here trying for you myself.” Eric awarded her a saucy wink.

  “What would Rena think about that?” Jason commented dryly.

  Eric feigned innocence. “Rena who?”

  “Rena who?” Jessica echoed.

  “My adorable wife”—Eric grinned—”and she’s a mean woman when she gets her hackles up.”

  Jessica gave him one big hug before letting go of his neck. “I am so happy to see you. I had no idea you would be here tonight.” She shot Jason a dirty look.

  “Didn’t know I was coming myself until the last minute.” Eric returned to the sofa. “I had some papers that needed Jason’s signature, so I hopped a plane and flew down this afternoon.”

  “How have you been?” She tried unobtrusively to stuff a pair of Jason’s dirty socks under the cushion of her chair.

  “Can’t complain.” He leaned forward, his puzzled eyes roaming the cluttered room.

  Jason pushed himself back up out of his chair. “Come on, Eric. You can wash up before dinner if you’d like. Just put your bags in your old room. You’ll have to shove a couple of saddles out of the way.” He turned to Jessica. “Eric’s going to spend the night here and take the early flight out tomorrow morning.”

  “How…nice.” Her heart sank. What would he think of the coming dinner?

  Eric stood, picked up his suitcase, and followed Jason down the hall. “Your cat not trained?” He asked as his eyes took in all the newspapers lying on the floor.

  “No, it’s trained,” she heard Jason’s deep voice say as they reached his room. “Just put your things in there, and we’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

  The peal of the doorbell brought Jessica back to her feet, scurrying for the kitchen at a run.

  “I’ll get it, Angel,” Jason called sweetly.

  “Thank you, Jason,” she responded in the same sweet tone as she slammed through the kitchen door.

  Once again Jessica took up her post by the doorway and peeked.

  “Ms. Vogue” and her “brown shoe” were smiling brightly as Jason opened the door and let them into the cluttered room. To Jessica’s satisfaction, Marcy’s eyebrow rose in distaste, but she recovered her composure. Willis was obviously just along for the ride. Judging by the expression on his face, all was as it should be.

  “Jason, darling.” Marcy clutched his arm. “How nice of you to have us in your home!”

  “I’m glad you could come this evening, Marcy, Willis. Come in and sit down. I think dinner’s almost ready.”

  Marcy headed for a chair beside Jason’s, but discovering the seat full of cookie crumbs, she moved to the sofa.

  Willis sat down in the pile of cookie crumbs.

  Jessica returned to her work putting the finishing touch on the ‘special’ dinner, but kept her ear tuned to the conversation in the living room. She could hear everything from the dining room.

  “Could I get you both something to drink?” Jason sounded like the gentleman owner of a manner house, just like he wasn’t sitting in the middle of a disaster.

  “No, thank you,” Willis replied. “I’m fine, really.”

  “Nothing for me, darling,” Marcy piped up. “I still have to watch my figure, you know. I was telling Willis on the drive over here, just because I have children now doesn’t mean I can let myself go. Most people are shocked when they find out I have children. Isn’t that what I was telling you, sweetie?”

  Jessica set a fifth plate on the table and pretended to gag herself with a finger.

  Willis answered in the manner of a truly henpecked husband. “I told her she looks just fine to me, don’t you think? I mean really fine?”

  “Yes, she looks just fine.” Jason repeated.

  Jessica snickered. They sounded like a room full of parrots.

  Time to make an appearance. Jessica came through the kitchen door. The men both stood, and Jason took her arm. “Everything going all right? Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

  “No, I can handle things just fine, thank you.” She turned a pleasant expression toward their guests and mimicked Jason’s polite manners. “Good evening, Marcy. Willis.”

  “Good evening, Jessica,” Willis said. “Jason certainly has a lovely home.” He reached out to shake her hand. Jessica felt like she was squeezing a nerf ball. “It’s just so homey-looking,” he said sincerely.

  Their eyes took in the disarray in the living room.

  “Yes, that’s what I told Jessie,” Jason piped up. “Now, this is a room a man can really be at home in.”

  Jessica couldn’t believe her ears. He was actually enjoying this.

  Willis indulged in a habit that had always driven Jessica crazy—he sucked on his front teeth. That sucking, squeaky noise grated on her nerves. Many was the time when she could have cheerfully strangled him.

  Jessica was never so relieved as to hear Eric’s booming voice behind her.

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving. I’ve had to put up with Jason’s bragging all afternoon about what a great cook his—uh, housekeeper is. Now I’m ready to be convinced.”

  Jessica managed a weak smile. “Everything’s ready now. We can eat anytime.”

  “Then, madam, if I may?” He held out his arm Jessica and led her into the dining room.

  Jason escorted a chattering Marcy, with Willis trailing along behind, sucking on his teeth.

  The table was lovely in its simplicity. A fresh bouquet of late-summer flowers nestled elegantly in a peanut-butter jar in the center of the table. She had placed gaily flower-patterned Melmac in front of each chair. Sparkling clean jelly glasses caught the light from the glittering chandelier, waiting to be filled with the cherry Kool-Aid Jessica had made to complement the meal. Two candle stubs in brass holders rested next to the flower centerpiece.

  Jason seated Marcy and dramatically lit the candle stubs before Jessica brought in the food. “The table looks lovely, Jessie.”

  How do I get myself in these messes?

  “Excuse me a moment and I’ll get our dinner.”

  In the kitchen, she slammed pots and pans around with such force she was sure the people in the other room thought there was a war going on.

  Eric thinks I’m an absolute basket case. Why did everything have to backfire on me like this?

  But she was committed now. There was no turning back.

  She began dishing up the vegetables and potatoes in all the mismatched bowls she could drag out of the cabinet. Defiantly she marched back to the dining room, slamming bowls down on the table, and returning for more.

  The guests sat quietly, expressions on their faces ranging from mild surprise to deep puzzlement to outright astonishment. Jason’s eyes, however, held only mild amusement.

  Jessica shoved the large bowl of potatoes under Eric’s nose and asked in a curt tone if he would mind passing them. Then she turned to Jason. “I’m bringing in the meatloaf now. Would you mind serving?”

  “Of course not. Can hardly wait to taste it.” He smiled at his guests. “Wait until you taste her meatloaf. You’re in for the treat of your life.”

  Jessica fired him a disgusted look and returned to the kitchen. Moments later she returned with a meat platter bearing the ne
arly charred remains of the meatloaf.

  She looked at the blank expressions on the four faces, and announced, “Jason prefers his meat well done.”

  To her surprise, he backed her up. “I don’t like any pink left in my meat.” He picked up a large carving knife and began slicing generous servings of tough, dry meatloaf for each plate. “Ahhhhh…just the way I like it.” He looked up and smiled adoringly at her.

  Eric picked up the bowl of potatoes and spooned some onto his plate, leaning down to peer closer at them. “Are these mashed or fried, Jessie?”

  “Mashed,” she replied curtly.

  He passed the bowl on to Marcy, who, in turn, immediately passed it on to Willis.

  “You know, Jessica excelled in home ec in high school,” Jason said.

  Marcy muttered under her breath, “You must be kidding.”

  As Jason picked up Marcy’s plate to serve her meat she practically shouted, “Just a very small serving for me.” She cleared her throat and cast an apologetic glance around the table. “I try not to eat too heavily in the evening.”

  “Oh, but you must let down just for tonight,” Jessica urged.

  The table was laden with a dazzling array of starches, all for Marcy’s benefit. First Jessica passed a large bowl of corn, then one each of hominy and pork and beans, followed by a bowl of creamed peas so thick you could easily have hung wallpaper with them. The tossed salad looked like someone’s garbage, and the Jell-O salad contained large chunks of pineapple floating in a not-quite-congealed green ooze.

  Eric surveyed the table with awe. “You got enough starch here to start a Chinese laundry.”

  She flushed a bright red, and turned to Jason. “You haven’t served Eric his meat, Jason.”

  “Oh, sorry.” He grinned at his brother. “Pass your plate, bubby and take it like a man.”

  “Could I have some catsup, please?” Eric ducked his head in a half-apology. “I always eat my meatloaf with catsup.”

  “I’ll get you some.” Eric was being so pathetically obliging about eating his meal Jessica had a hard time keeping a straight face.

  “Jessica,” Willis said when she brought the catsup back to the table and set it before a grateful Eric, who was trying to work his way through the gooey peas, “this is a fine meal. Marcy is an excellent cook, but she rarely fixes so many—rib sticking dishes at one time.” The banker gave her an angelic smile.