The Cowboy's Housekeeper Page 12

  Jessica grabbed her napkin and covered her mouth before she let out a stifled giggle. Willis had little black pieces of burned meatloaf stuck between his teeth.

  “Why, that’s sweet of you, Willis, but I don’t want to mislead you. I don’t cook quite this heavy a meal for Jason every night—just on special occasions, like tonight.”

  Eric glanced up from his plate, started to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Instead he gave Jessica a devilish grin and turned regretfully back to his food. The grin did a lot to soothe her conscience. Maybe he’d caught on to her plan.

  The ghastly meal finally came to an end. Everyone ate lightly except for Willis, who took seconds of everything.

  Jason suggested they have their coffee and dessert in the living room. They all left the table with the zeal of refugees leaving a war zone.

  Jessica brought the tray with coffee and cups in, placing it on the low table in front of the sofa. She left briefly, returning with the chocolate cake that had fallen in the middle when she iced it hot from the oven. Four sets of eyes immediately focused on everything in the room but the cake. Jessica had used so many toothpicks to hold the cake together it looked as if it had been shot with a pellet gun.

  Jessica handed Marcy her coffee first.

  “Oh, hot tea,” Marcy remarked, looking at the almost clear liquid in the bottom of her cup. “How nice for a change.”

  “No,” Jessica answered coolly, “it’s coffee. Jason can’t sleep nights if I make it too strong.”

  Eric sat up straighter, peering into his cup. “Well, you ought to sleep like the dead tonight.”

  Willis started to squeak and suck on his teeth again. Jessica’s nerves stretched nearly to the breaking point. Would this night ever end?

  Jason shot Willis a dirty look. He reached over to the cake, withdrew a toothpick, and offered it to him silently.

  They made small talk for another hour or so before Willis and Marcy said their good-byes, and Eric retired to his room early.

  Jason saw the Mercys to the front door, closed and locked it behind them. He switched off the large yard light and turned back to Jessica, who still sat in the devastated living room.

  He crossed the room and stood beside her chair.

  “Thank you for an outstanding meal tonight. Truly unforgettable.”

  Her mouth gaped open while her mind conducted a frantic search for a response.

  He started toward his bedroom, whistling “Auld Lang Syne.”

  Jessica’s eyes fell on the hideous chocolate cake. The horrendous thing blurred as tears welled up in her eyes. She had tried so hard to take revenge on him for refusing her advances last night, but he’d turned the tables on her. Instead of being angry or embarrassed, he acted like a complete gentleman. Laying her head on her arm, she released the pent-up tears and sobbed her heart out.

  When her tears subsided, and she made her way down the hall to her bedroom. This plan had gone down the drain along with the others.

  Fourteen

  A violent clap of thunder jerked Jessica out of a sound sleep. Outside the wind roared. The limbs of the old tree by her bedroom window made grotesque patterns on the wall in her room, against the security light left burning all night in the farmyard.

  She raised up on her knees to peer through the window just as a jagged streak of lightning forked through the sky, followed by a deafening boom which shook the entire house. Heart pounding, she scurried to the foot of her bed. The rain had not started yet. It seemed to be one of the violent electrical storms that came up occasionally. The kind she hated the most.

  Another lightning bolt shot across the sky. When she was small, she would always run into Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey’s room, crawl between them, and bury her head under the covers. Aunt Rainey would pull her close, pat her back, and tell her not to be afraid. “It’s just the angels’ potato wagons falling over,” she’d say comfortingly. Then another deafening clap would come, and Jessica would say, “They sure must have big potatoes.”

  Oh, how she longed for those comforting arms tonight!

  Another peek through the window showed the wind whipping the branches of the old oak violently now. The streaks of lightning were following almost on top of one another, with the thunder sounding like sonic booms.

  Calm down, Jessica. You’re a big girl now. No need to be afraid.

  But she was. Cringing, she pulled the curtain shut across the window in an ineffective attempt to block out the raging storm.

  She pulled the pillow up over her ears, but even that didn’t muffle the sound. Above her head, the wind rattled the window, and she shivered in terror. What if it broke? She needed to get away, to someplace safer. But where? The bathroom, maybe? That was an interior room, with no windows and sturdy walls reinforced by plumbing. Yes, the bathroom.

  She crawled out of bed, dragging her quilt with her. Wrapping the blanket tight around her shoulders, she hurried to the door and threw it open as another blast of thunder exploded. With a screech, she dashed into the hallway—

  And straight into Jason.

  “What are you doing in here?” she asked.

  “I woke up and happened to remember a little violet-eyed pixie who has an unnatural fear of storms.” He enfolded her in his arms. “I thought she need some reassurance about now.”

  The deafening boom of another loud clap of thunder shook the house again, and buried her face tightly in his neck.

  “C’mon, Angel.”

  He guided her to the living room, dropped on the sofa, and pulled her down beside him. With an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her tightly, securely against him. Though she remained wrapped in the quilt, his body felt wonderfully warm.

  “How did you know I was afraid of storms?”

  “I was there one day when you came running in Rainey’s back door during a spring thunderstorm, your face as white as a sheet.” The memory stirred up a tender chuckle, which she felt in his chest.

  “I know it’s silly.” She sighed. “And it’s something I’ve tried to overcome, but I’m still deathly afraid of storms.”

  “It’s all right,” he whispered as the storm raged on in its full fury. “It’s the angels’ potato wagons falling over?’ He teased. “Besides, how many times lately have I had to hold beautiful woman in my arms?”

  A woman’s arms. He finally thought of her as a woman, and a beautiful one.

  Outside, the rain began. Huge drops pelted hard against the windows as she snuggled closer to him, her head fitting smoothly into the curve where his arm met his chest.

  “Why are you so special?” He was so uniquely…hers.

  His mouth opened in a huge yawn, and then he shifted his position sideways so he could lean against the sofa’s padded arm, pulling her with him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Angel, but I’m too tired to figure it out tonight. Go to sleep.”

  And she did— as rain pelted the old farmhouse, she slept peacefully, calmly, and most contentedly in his arms.

  Rain was still falling softly when she felt Jason heave himself off the couch. She mumbled a protest, and cracked open an eye.

  “What are you doing up so early?” she whispered. “It’s hours before daybreak.”

  “Shhh.” A warm finger laid across her lips. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got a couple of farms to run.”

  She snuggled deeper into the couch cushion to enjoy another few hours of sleep before she faced the new day. As she drifted back to sleep she heard him and two of his farmhands slam the doors of their trucks, start their motors, and drive out of the farmyard.

  The next sound she heard was that of Eric’s electric razor in the hall bathroom. She lay there in lazy limbo for a few minutes, thinking of the night before, and poor Eric’s face through the whole nightmarish part of the evening. A soft giggle escaped. What must be going through his mind this morning? The pigsty of a house, the horrendous meal.

  She jumped off the couch and dashed to her room to pull on a
pair of old jeans and a soft yellow cotton T-shirt. Picking up her hairbrush, she brushed rapidly through the tangled mess until it crackled in the early morning air. Then she hurried to the kitchen.

  The smell of coffee perking and ham frying in the large iron skillet on the stove filled the kitchen as Eric entered a little later.

  “Good morning, pretty lady,” he said cheerfully. “What’s got you out of bed so early on a dreary morning like this?”

  “Good morning to you.” She filled her voice with the affection she had for Jason’s younger brother. “How about some breakfast?”

  His face paled slightly before he pleaded, “Just coffee, please. My stomach is a little queasy this morning.”

  “Nonsense.” Jessica smiled. “I owe you a decent breakfast after what I put you through last night. Sit down. I promise you your meal will be different this morning.”

  He let out a long breath as he pulled out the chair at the kitchen table and settled his long frame in it. “I got to tell you, Jessie, that meal hung heavy on my stomach all night. I’m afraid I’ve cleaned you out of Alka-Seltzer.”

  Jessica giggled as she placed a mug of hot coffee before him. He sat up straighter and peered intently into his cup as if to assure himself it wasn’t of the same quality as the previous night’s. Apparently satisfied, he picked up the cream pitcher and added a liberal portion to the strong black liquid. Jessica turned back to the counter, preparing to mix batter for hot cakes. She set the large cast-iron griddle on the burner to heat, then began mixing up the batter.

  “How long have you and Rena been married?”

  “Three years last month. You would really like her, Jessie. She’s the best-looking blonde you’ve ever laid eyes on, believe me.”

  Jessica smiled as she picked up a wooden spoon and began beating the thick batter in a rapid motion. “You wouldn’t be just a little partial, now, would you, Eric?”

  He picked up his coffee cup and he took another sip of his coffee before conceding, “Maybe a little. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  Jessica chuckled as she spooned out the batter onto the sizzling hot grill. The hotcakes puffed up slightly before bubbling on top. She flipped over the golden-brown cakes, which gave off a mouth-watering aroma. Removing the first two cakes, she generously spread them with golden butter and handed the plate to Eric before spooning more onto the hot griddle.

  “How old is your little boy?” she asked.

  Eric had a bottle of maple syrup in his hand and was drowning his cakes in the gooey, sweet liquid. “He’s a year and a half.” He flashed a wide grin and laid his fork down. A moment later he produced a cell phone that had at least fifty pictures of a smiling, chubby, blond-haired boy.

  Jessica’s eyes misted as she looked at the beautiful child, who bore a strong resemblance to his father and uncle. Is this what Jason’s baby would look like? She scanned the pictures, seeing the chubby baby go from an infant to an endearing toddler. Would she ever have the honor of carrying Jason’s children, seeing the proud look on his face that was now radiating from Eric’s? The last picture was of a very lovely blond woman holding the baby, her eyes shining with a mother’s love. She wore the look of a very contented woman, one who had found her place in life with her child and her husband.

  “This must be Rena,” Jessica said softly. Pangs of envy shot through her as she gazed at the picture of this woman who seemed to have everything important in life.

  “That’s her.” His love for Rena waved in his face like a red banner.

  “She’s very beautiful,” Jessica assured him, “and Scottie’s a real angel.”

  “Kids are great. We want at least six.” He returned to his hot cakes. “What about you and old Jase—you thinking of gettin’ married again? He isn’t getting any younger, you know.”

  Jessica was removing the last hot cake from the grill as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. They started running down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away.

  Eric looked up with surprise, his expression turning to a worried frown as he saw the river rolling down her face. “Did I say something wrong, honey?” Grabbing a napkin from the table, he began awkwardly mopping at her tears. “Sit down, Jessie.” He pulled her over to the table and placed her in the chair across from his, still wiping ineffectually at her tears.

  She felt like a total basket case now, the flood gates of the dam completely opened.

  “Jessica!” A note of panic sounded in his voice. “Will you please tell me what in the world’s going on. I feel like I’ve stayed overnight at the zoo—in the monkey cage.”

  “Oh, Eric, I’m so miserable,” she sobbed, “and I’m making Jason miserable. Everything is in a miserable mess.” Her slim shoulders shook violently as she sat at the table, ready to pour her heart out to the one man she hoped could tell her what to do.

  “What are you talking about? Are you and Jason having a little quarrel? Good heavens, that’s nothing to get so upset over. Rena and I average one a day, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her.”

  “Oh, Eric, you just d— d—don’t understand. Jason doesn’t love me, period. The only reason we’re together at all is this stupid business arrangement. I’m paying him thirty thousand dollars to stay here and run my farm for me until November, when I can collect my inheritance.” She stopped to blow her nose. Her face felt hot, the skin puffy from all the crying. “Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey stipulated in their will that I had to come home and run the farm for six months or all my inheritance would go elsewhere. At first, I didn’t care, but then I know how hard my aunt and uncle worked to build this farm, and I can invest the inheritance in my business in Austin, so I offered Jason the opportunity to make extra money if he would help me out.” She blew her nose again loudly. “He agreed to the arrangement, I guess, partly because he felt sorry for me, partly because he needed the money.”

  “Needed the money?” Eric interrupted. “Jessica, this is getting crazier by the minute.”

  Jessica sniffed hard, then looked up at Eric. “What do you mean?”

  “Hasn’t Jason told you anything about his finances?” His expression was openly incredulous.

  “Of course not. We don’t talk about that sort of thing.”

  Eric reached up and ran his fingers through his thick hair, clearly disturbed by this mind-boggling conversation. “Jessica, it’s not my place to tell you Jason’s business, but you two should stop fighting and sit down and have a long talk. I can’t believe he’s never told you anything about his life after you left.”

  “Why should he?” she hiccupped. “I’m nothing to him but a business arrangement.”

  “You mean to sit there and tell me that my brother, Jason, who is the most level-headed one in this whole family, is just doing this for you as a favor? Sorry—for thirty thousand dollars?” Eric shook his head, eyeing her with pity. “Then he’s going to up and walk out on you in November? Go his own separate way? Honestly, do you think you can make me believe that? That’s a heckuva of a lot of hard work for Jason.”

  Clearly, he didn’t believe a word she was saying, and that was starting to irritate her. “Well, it’s the truth, whether you believe it or not.”

  “Then you’ve missed your calling,” he said. “You should be selling ocean-front property in Kansas.”

  She laid her head on the table and gave in to desperation. “Oh, Eric, what am I going to do? I love him more than anything in the world.”

  He shook his head in disbelief as he got up to pour himself and Jessica more coffee. “Wish I could tell you, honey, but I can’t make heads nor tails out of any of this.” Suddenly his eyes softened. “You really love the guy, don’t you? You know what? I’ve always known you loved him, since you were a child. It was always there, plain as the nose on your face.”

  “I love him more than life itself, but I’ve lost him forever.” A return of the sobs threatened. “He can’t forgive me for letting the annulment take place.”

  H
e laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. “I think you’re borrowing trouble. Jason doesn’t take his personal affairs lightly. Who knows, he could still be in love with you. Something must have caused him to agree to this arrangement of your.”

  “There is,” she nodded, miserable. “Money. Oh, how I wish I could undo the past, but I can’t. Now he’s involved with a woman named Monica, and I don’t know—he may be in love with her. She certainly is with him. And who can blame her? He’s…perfect in every way.”

  “Jessica,” Eric said kindly, “did you ever stop to think that not everyone sees him through your eyes? Jason’s just an average guy, no better, no worse than the next guy. You’re looking at him through the eyes of love, honey.”

  “What do you mean?” she snapped. “He’s wonderful.”

  “If you say so.” He paused. “I mean, I guess he is— he’s really not my type. But what I’m trying to say is you’ve got to take him down off that pedestal you’ve had him on all these years. You’re just as lovely a woman as he is a man. If you want him, go after him.”

  “I’ve tried, truly I have. Just the other night—” She bit her lip. No need to embarrass herself further by describing her disastrous attempt to make him notice her as a woman. Then she looked at the expression on Eric’s face, and a sprig of hope bloomed in her heart. “Do you really think I would stand a chance with him again?”

  “I don’t know, but I can tell you this. I think I know my brother well, and I have never—I repeat, never—known him to do anything unless he knew exactly what he was doing.” He picked up his fork and tackled his hotcakes. “I have a strong hunch that things are not nearly as dark as you picture them.”

  After Eric left to catch his plane, Jessica poured her fourth cup of coffee. Her mind replayed their conversation over and over. Would she really ever have a chance to become Jason’s wife again? Was she looking at him only through the eyes of love? How could she ever look at him any other way? She didn’t know—all she knew was she did love him. And it hurt.