Lost and Found (18 page)

“I just went back up to my bedroom and stayed there all night.” I continued to make the coffee rounds. Jesse picked his fork back up and dove into his breakfast, but his eyes shifted my way every few seconds. So much for playing it subtle.

“Sounds like an uneventful night,” Neil said.

“Perfectly uneventful,” I replied.

Jesse shook his head and grinned into his plate.

The pot was empty a few cups later. After a detour to refill, I headed back to the table. En route, Jesse lifted his full cup of coffee and took a drink. He didn’t stop until the cup was empty. He swung it from the handle with his finger and winked at me.

If he kept that up, the entire ranch would know something was going on between us.

“Refill?” I stopped beside him and held out my hand. I was likely imagining it, but his eyes twinkled a bit more this morning.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied as he handed me his cup. His hand grazed mine purposefully, and in that briefest of grazes, my heart picked up speed.

“Did you have trouble sleeping last night, too?” I asked innocently as I poured his coffee. No one was paying us any attention, but just in case . . .

“Maybe a little.” He twisted in his seat and gave me a not-so-innocent smile. “Once I did fall asleep, I slept great. Best sleep of my life even.”

I was one more flirty innuendo away from a blush. It took a lot to make me blush, and I really didn’t want to do it right here for all of these guys to witness.

“Did you have a tough time getting to sleep last night, too, son?” Neil spoke up. I almost jumped out of my skin. I didn’t think anyone could hear us above the din of conversations roaming around the room.

“Yeah, I did, Dad,” Jesse replied in a collected voice. Like he hadn’t just gone from talking in code with me about last night to discussing sleep with his dad a second later.

“You know, I did, too,” Neil said. “I kept hearing a bunch of creaking around and odd noises last night.”

It would have been my turn to choke if I had anything in my mouth.

“This house is older than you are, Dad. It creaks and makes odd noises all the time,” Jesse said with a shrug while he soaked up some hamburger gravy with a biscuit.

“Thanks for the age reminder, Jesse. Always something I love to be reminded of. But these were odd-
er
sounds.”
That’s probably because your son climbed down a chimney, hurled himself into my room, and made out with me in ways that are probably illegal in this county.
“Anyways, I’m sure it was nothing, but it looks like a few of us are going to be getting by on nothing more than caffeine and grit today.”

Jesse lifted his cup and took a sip. “Looks like it.”

I sighed with relief as I reached for the next empty cup. Breakfast was almost over, Jesse and I had dodged a few danger zones, and I’d managed to keep from kissing him the way I wanted to as soon as I walked in and saw him.

Maybe we could keep things on the D.L. until we figured them out and were ready to go public.

That was when Clementine shouted from across the room, “Rowen? Why were you wearing Jesse’s shirt this morning?”

Jesse’s fork clattered to his plate. The empty coffee cup in my hand clattered to the floor.

The Walkers had believed me. They’d believed my explanation as to why I’d been wearing Jesse’s shirt. Of course, I told them the truth—I didn’t have any clean pajamas and found it buried in the back of the dresser drawer—but I’d found adults were unappeasably suspicious when it came to teens. Especially when it came to the topic of sleeping around.

For example, if I’d woken up wearing some guy’s shirt at home, my mom would have just assumed we’d done the deed. She wouldn’t have asked for an explanation because she didn’t need one.

Neil and Rose, on the other hand, gave Jesse and me a curious look after Clementine’s announcement. I gave them a simple explanation, they nodded, then they got on with the morning. They trusted me. They believed me—they believed
in
me.

It had been a while since anyone had trusted or believed in me, and I didn’t want to do anything to betray them. Even if that meant Jesse and I had to admit what was going on between us sooner rather than later. I didn’t want to lie to them.

I knew the idea of their perfect son linking up with someone like me, with a less-than-perfect past, might make them uncomfortable, but the Walkers were quite possibly the most understanding and forgiving people out there. If anyone would give me the thumbs up to date their son, it would be them.

After I’d put a few loads of my clothes into the dryers, I wandered back into the kitchen. The guys were moving the cattle to a different pasture and wouldn’t come in for lunch, so we’d packed a sack lunch type meal, and I would drive it out to them in a few minutes.

Rose was stacking the sandwiches into a big cooler when I walked into the kitchen.

“Clean clothes are a mere dryer session away,” I said, walking over to help her.

“You know, my dear, you can always ask me or one of the girls if you need some pajamas,” she said as I started laying bottles of water into the cooler. “No need to go into the bowels of Jesse’s dresser in search of an old, smelly shirt.”

I almost corrected her. It wasn’t old and smelly. In fact, I’d take a shirt of Jesse’s any night over the finest, silkiest pajamas out there. “Okay, thanks. It wasn’t so bad, really.”

We were quiet for a few moments as we continued to load up the cooler for an army of ranch hands. The cooler was so big, I wasn’t sure Rose and I could move it on our own.

“Your mom called again,” she said slowly.

The chill Zen I’d managed to achieve at Willow Springs flew out the window. It always did when someone brought up the topic of my mom. Rose generally tried not to mention her, but she was in a tough spot. Since I’d refused to take any of my mom’s calls, my mom had moved on to Rose. Rose was the intermediary between Mom and me, and that wasn’t a role I’d wish on my worst enemy.

“She said she still hasn’t been able to get ahold of you,” Rose said diplomatically.
That’s because I’ve hit ignore every time she’s called.
“And that you haven’t returned her messages.”

“I don’t have anything to say to her, Rose. Her ultimatum included me working hard out here and not stepping a toe out of line. She didn’t say anything about pretending we have this great mother-daughter relationship where we check in with each other every day.” My voice was rising. It always did when I started down the rabbit hole that was my mom and me. “But I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this. I’ll give her a call so she’ll leave you alone.”
I’ll just make sure to call when I know she’s at work so I can leave her a message and not have to talk to her directly.

“You do whatever you think is best, Rowen. I’m a big girl, and I’ve been dealing with your mom’s drama for decades now. I’m an expert in drama dealing with that woman.” Rose placed the last few sandwiches on top of the pile and closed the fridge. “She’s seeing some new guy, I guess. She said she wanted to bring him out here to meet everyone and have dinner.”

So much was wrong with those couple of sentences I glanced around, half expecting the apocalypse.

“She’s always seeing a new guy. There’s never not been a new guy in my mom’s life.” I couldn’t think of a single instance when her boyfriend lasted longer than two months. As old as she was, that meant she’d dated so many guys, if you laid them down in a straight line, they’d circle the earth once. At least once.

Rose shrugged. “She sounded pretty serious about this one. Just the fact that she wanted to make the journey with him out here to meet you made me stop and make sure the sky wasn’t falling.”

“The only reason she wants to bring him out here is because she probably wants to break up with him. She knows seeing her freak of a daughter will be enough to send him running. It’s worked before. Makes it easier on her if they just run away screaming.” I leaned into the counter and looked out the window. I didn’t want Mom there. Willow Springs was my special place. A place where I didn’t have to walk on egg shells around her. A place where some “new guy” didn’t take automatic priority over her flesh and blood. I didn’t want to taint what small sliver of peace I’d found with the wars and battles that would surely come if we were under the same roof.

“Please stop calling yourself that, Rowen,” Rose said in as firm a voice as I’d ever heard her use. “You’re no more a freak than I am. You’re just as much a freak as I am, too. Don’t let some ignorant name you’ve heard directed your way define you. You define you.” She pressed her finger into my face. “Stop playing the victim and live your life.”

I think if she’d just slapped me across the face, I wouldn’t have been as shocked. Rose was such a calm soul that seeing her so fired up was a bit unnerving.

“Those are some powerful words,” I said slowly.

“That’s because they’re true.” Rose looked at me and waited. She wouldn’t let me out of the kitchen until she’d pounded it into me.

“I’ll think them over.” I reached for the handle of the cooler. Uncomfortable conversations were something I tried to avoid at all costs.

“Promise you will.”

To argue would have been pointless. Rose may be small, but she was mighty. “I promise.”

“Good,” she said, and her whole body relaxed. “Now,”—she grabbed the other handle—“let’s get this thing loaded up before those boys keel over from starvation.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want them to kill a cow and start roasting it over a fire.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Rose said around a chuckle.

Rose and I managed to wrangle that cooler out of the kitchen, out the back door, and down the stairs before we had to set it down and take a break. Last week, I couldn’t have helped carry that thing five feet. Just went to show how strong one got working around a ranch. I also knew my muscles weren’t the only things getting stronger.

Everything about me was getting stronger.

“What car do you want to take?” Rose asked. Her breathing wasn’t even labored like mine. “The Suburban or Neil’s truck?”

I studied them and made a face. The family Suburban was almost as long as a school bus, and Neil’s truck was an extended cab monster truck. Then another vehicle caught my attention.

“Why don’t I take Old Bessie?” I said. “It’s the only one I think I have a decent shot of seeing over the steering wheel without having to prop a phone book under my butt.”

Rose studied the truck with me and gave a good laugh. “Old Bessie it is then. Jesse would be happy to know someone on this ranch other than him isn’t too embarrassed to drive it.”

We lifted the cooler again and headed for Old Bessie. “I didn’t say I wasn’t embarrassed to drive that thing. I’m just choosing the lesser of two embarrassing options.” Rose lowered the tailgate, and we swung the cooler up into the bed. I grunted like it weighed a ton. Rose smiled like it was light as a feather. “Drive Old Bessie or sit propped up on a phone book . . .” I lifted both hands and weighed the options. “Kind of a tough call.”

“Well, enjoy the ride and make sure to wash your hands when you’re done driving that thing. Lord only knows what could be growing in it.” Rose lifted the tailgate and wiped her hands off on her pants. “You got your phone in case you get turned around?”

I patted my jeans’ pocket.

“You shouldn’t have a problem. Just follow that windy dirt road until you see a bunch of cattle and guys on horseback.”

“I think I can handle that.” I came around the truck and opened the car door. It made a whiny, screeching sound. I leapt up into the driver’s seat and found I could see over the steering wheel. Barely, but I could. “Oops. I need keys.”

“They’re in the ignition,” Rose said.

Yep. Sure enough. I guess no one would want to steal Old Bessie anyways. Turning them over, the engine fired to life. When I say fired, I mean I expected a real life, raging fire to erupt from the hood.

“See you later. If I’m not back in a few hours, send the search party.” I waved at Rose before closing the door and heading out of the driveway.

Surprisingly, Old Bessie drove fairly smoothly for a truck in its condition. And that truck had something no other truck had: Jesse’s smell overpowering the cab.

I was about a couple miles down the bumpy dirt road when I reached for the CD player. I hit play without thinking, and that Johnny Cash character Jesse was such a fan of started singing in that deep, dark voice of his about rings and fires.

Actually, it was pretty good. It could have been badass good if the country twang about it could be removed. The lyrics were like poetry, and Johnny Cash’s voice was like nothing I’d heard before. When the CD moved on to the next song, I realized that, in a little over a week, I’d gone from hating-with-a-capital-H country music to tolerating, and maybe, just maybe, appreciating it.

What. In. The. Hell. was happening to me?

I didn’t know yet, but I did know the changes taking place inside and outside of me were good ones. They were changes to be proud of, so I would just keep keeping on. I didn’t need to have all the answers to my questions yet.