Loving a Lawman (22 page)

“Yeah,” Jessie said. “I'm looking for some boxes.”

“Trouble between you and Seth already?”

“I'm cleaning out my grandmother's house.” Why was everyone in this town so mean?

“Oh.” Shonda nodded. “Come around back, and I'll see what I have.”

Half an hour later, Jessie pulled up to her grandmother's house and cut the engine. She wasn't ready for this. Too many changes, too much loss. Seth had told her to wait a couple more days and he would come with her. Dusty had gone to training in San Angelo and would be back by then, but she wanted to do this alone. It was her responsibility, and she was tired of postponing the inevitable.

She sighed. It had to be done.

The porch steps creaked as she made her way up to the porch and let herself into the house. It smelled the same, like cigarettes and menthol.

“Meemaw, I'm home,” she said to no one in particular.

Everything was just as she had left it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd hoped that it wouldn't be as bad as it was. She didn't know where to start. She walked into the kitchen. Some things could be donated to charity. She wasn't up to a garage sale. Or maybe that was the answer: pull everything out into the yard and take the best offer.

She didn't need the dishes. Or the pots and pans. She poured a glass of water from the tap and gave a drink to the four little pots of herbs that grew in the windowsill. She should take them back home with her.

Home. This used to be home, but now she lived with Seth. For how long?

She had been mulling it over for days. Seth was a noble man. He had said forever and that was what he would deliver. But was forever in their cards?

It wasn't. She knew that. This morning with Shonda was
a prime example. Jessie didn't belong here, the one place she had lived all her life. It was time for her to go. She knew that.

She needed to get her money together and get out as she had always dreamed. Only then Seth could go on in the life that was truly destined to be his.

She hadn't decided where she wanted to go. That would have to be her first decision. Then get her job back at Chuck Wagon. Seth wouldn't like it, but he couldn't cry pregnancy as a reason for her to be a housewife. With any luck, she'd have enough to leave by the beginning of the year.

She opened the cabinets and started pulling out the cans of food. Take them back to the old ranch house or donate them to the food bank? The thought of lugging them out to the Diamond sounded like way too much effort. Not when she could load them up in paper grocery sacks and leave them on the porch for someone else to deal with.

She stacked all the can goods on the countertop, then started for the cabinets holding the dishes. She stacked them next to the canned goods, then reached for the coffee cups.

*   *   *

J
essie went into town every day for two weeks. She got up each morning and took a shower, shared a cup of coffee with Seth on the porch, then drove behind him all the way to Cattle Creek. Seth had never felt more separated from her.

“Chester,” Seth started, doing his best to defuse the situation. “Why would Amos come over in the middle of the night and paint your mailbox pink?”

Better yet, why would he want to?

“I know he did it.” The elderly man spat to one side, and Seth winced as the old birddog dodged to avoid it.

“I'll talk to him,” Seth promised. “Just do me a favor.”

The old man thought about it a minute, then gave a quick nod. “What?”

“Don't retaliate.” He had too much to do to have to run back over here because Chester was missing his mailbox.

“Bah.” Amos waved him away with one hand, then hobbled back to his front porch. A shotgun sat propped up next to his rocking chair.

“And put that gun away.”

“Rabbits,” Amos said without turning around.

Please, Lord, let that be all he's shooting at.

His cell phone jangled as he slid back into his service vehicle. He grabbed it up as he pointed his truck back toward town.

“How's Jessie?” his mother asked without preamble.

Seth bit back a sigh. “Healing,” he said. Such a lie. He didn't know what was going on in Jessie's head. He hadn't been by her grandmother's house to see if she had made any progress. He just knew that she was going there every day, and every day it seemed that the chasm between them was bigger than the day before.

“Why don't the two of you come out to the house tonight for supper? Grandma Esther is making chicken enchiladas.”

“That sounds good.” He wasn't sure if he could get Jess out of the house, but he would do everything in his power to. Maybe a night out was exactly what they needed.

Maybe this weekend he would take her into Midland. Maybe catch dinner someplace nice and a movie, her choice. He had let her wallow in her grief long enough. Now it was time to move forward.

“We'll be there,” he said, then turned his truck down Larkspur Lane.

Her Jeep was out front when he pulled into the gravel driveway. The house looked so different to him now. Yet the only thing that had changed was that Naomi McAllen was no longer there.

He took the steps two at a time and let himself inside. “Jessie,” he called, his gaze bouncing around the room. For a moment he wondered if the house had been burglarized. Most the pictures were off the walls; knickknacks
were stacked in boxes and strewn about the floor. Papers littered the rug between the rooms. “Jessie?”

She came out of the kitchen. “Seth? What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see how you were doing.” His gaze bounced off the mess spread out in front of him. “Do you need some help? I told you I would give you a hand.”

She shook her head. “I've got it under control.”

“Yeah, sure looks like it.”

Wrong thing to say. Immediately her hackles were up, but facing her anger was much more satisfying than dealing with her indifference. Perhaps she was healing after all.

“This isn't easy, you know.”

“I know.”

“Coming here every day and trying to decide what to keep and what to give away. These are her
things
.”

“I know.”

“I can't go into her room. I can't go into the nursery.”

And now they were at the crux of the problem.

“Do you want me to take a couple of days off and come and help you?”

“Don't you understand?” Tears rose into her eyes. It was the first time he'd seen her cry since she lost the baby. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad one. “She's gone.”

“I know.” He moved toward her, needing to comfort her, let her cry, then dry her tears.

She flung herself into his arms, clutching him to her as if he were a lifeline and she was going down for the last time.

“It's okay, Jessie.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. “We'll hire someone to pack everything up. We can store it all in the barn until you're ready to sort through it, okay?”

As quickly as she grabbed him, she let him go. “I'm okay.” She dabbed at her eyes, but as she wiped the tears away, they reappeared.

“You're not.” He wanted to hold her in his arms once
again, but even as he reached for her, she took a step back. “Maybe you should go talk to someone.”

She shook her head. “I said I'm fine.” Her chin tilted to that stubborn angle he knew so well. Her shoulders straightened, and her eyes blazed with determination.

“I just need a little more time.”

“I know.” He tried his best to sound supportive, but he had his doubts.

Yeah, she would be fine. But what would happen to them in the meantime?

*   *   *

M
ama invited us to the ranch tonight for supper,” he said when he got home later that evening. It had been a helluva day. After the incident with Chester and Amos and his time with Jessie at her grandmother's house, there had been a problem at Manny's. At least this time neither Jessie nor Chase was involved. Thank heaven for small miracles.

She took so long to answer that he was afraid she was going to tell him that she wouldn't go. “Do I have time for a shower before we leave?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he would join her, but it was too soon. “Sure. I'll go after you.”

She nodded and headed for the bathroom. On her way down the hall, he heard her close the nursery door. How had it gotten open? He needed to check the latch to make sure it was working right. Otherwise Jessie would be closing that door . . . forever.

The pipes thumped as she turned on the water.

She was slipping away, he could feel it. And the worst part of all, he didn't know what he could do about it.

D
inner at the ranch was always a special occasion. Jessie had enjoyed many suppers at the Langston table. The food was always tasty, but it was the sense of family that she loved most.

“I'm glad you're here, Aunt Jessie,” Wesley said. “Can you come out to the barn and see the kitties that Uncle Seth brought over? I asked Daddy if we could keep them. He said he'd think about it, and he's been thinking about it so long I think he'll say yes.” She stuffed a tortilla chip into her mouth and grinned.

“Of course,” Jessie replied. She wasn't really up for a trip out to the horse barn, but she couldn't tell that sweet little face no.

It was all part of her plan to continue. Or at least pretend she was. Fake it until she could make it. Fake it until she had the money to leave everything behind.

She took another bite of her enchiladas as Evelyn frowned. “That dog.” Evelyn shook her head. “He never stops barking.”

“He's just lonely,” Wesley said.

“How can he be lonely?” Jake asked. “There's five kittens and half a dozen horses out there.”

“Is that the puppy Chase brought home at the wedding?” Seth asked.

Evelyn shook her head. “He came by this week with this little guy.”

“I'd like to keep him,” Jake said. “He's at least half cattle dog. I thought he'd be good around here, but it's almost too much for him. Seth, why don't you take him for a while? Then once he gets used to the ranch, I'll bring him back over. All he's doing now is upsetting the horses.”

“Sure. Is that okay, Jess?”

But Jessie couldn't find her voice to answer. Chase had brought home another dog, another stray. Just like Sadie. Just like her.

How many times had Chase dragged home a stray only to make Seth be the one responsible for its care?

In a heartbeat she was back on that faithful day when she met the two of them. Heather Clemens's dog had come out of nowhere. Jessie had turned to run and tripped over her own shoelaces. Down she went, skinning the palms of her hands and both knees. Chase had come over to help her up. She had been so thankful to him for his assistance. She remembered staring at him and thinking how cute he was. For a boy anyway. Chase had held her arm as he escorted her back to his brother. She had always attributed Chase for her rescue, but in truth, it was Seth who had cleaned her wounds and given her a cherry ice pop, still her favorite to this day.

She was just another one of Chase's strays.

“Jess? Are you okay?” Seth asked.

“I'm sorry. I don't feel very good. Can you . . . can you please take me home?”

She ignored the concerned looks that rippled around the table. Only Wesley's expression remained the same.

“Does that mean you won't be able to come see the kittens?”

“Can I do that another day?” Jessie asked.

“I s'pose,” she replied.

“Wesley,” Jake said, his voice low with reprimand.

“I mean, that'd be fine, Aunt Jessie. I'm sorry you feel bad.”

She trailed her fingers down the girl's cheek. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Let me get you a plate to go.” Grandma Esther started to stand, but Jessie waved her back down.

“That's okay. Thank you anyway. I think I just need to lay down.”

She refused to look at Seth as he said his good-byes and walked with her to his truck.

She got in without a word and nothing was said on the short trip back to their house. But she could feel him winding up to talk. And that was the last thing she wanted to do.

He pulled the truck to a stop, then turned to face her. “Jessie.”

She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Do we have to do this now?”

“What's wrong?” His voice was so soft and filled with concern that tears clogged her throat.

“I just need a little time,” she managed. But was she talking to him or herself?

“I just want to—” He stopped. “You can have all the time you need.”

She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't look at him. She was so afraid of breaking down right there in front of him.

She had been so excited when he told her that he loved her. She had just never considered the many definitions of love. Yes, he had known her his entire life. Yes, whenever he kissed her it sizzled, but that didn't mean he harbored romantic feelings for her. He could have any woman he wanted in Page County. Why would he pick wild child Jessie McAllen?

“Thank you,” was all she said as she slipped from the truck cab.

*   *   *

S
eth sat in his truck and watched Jessie make a break for the house.

Damn it all to hell! He smacked his hand against the steering wheel and debated on whether or not to go after her. He wanted to chase her down, kiss her like crazy, and make love to her until that lost look faded from her eyes.

But it was too soon for that, both emotionally and physically. She needed time to heal, time to get her mind straight, but he was afraid that by the time that happened she would be lost to him forever.

He gave her enough time to hide out in her room before he got out of the truck and followed her inside. As he expected, she was nowhere around. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled down to watch the last of the Rangers game.

But he couldn't keep his mind on anything but Jessie. He had come right out and told her that he loved her, but he didn't think she believed him. He had done everything in his power to let her know that he would be by her side forever and always, baby or no baby.

He slipped off his boots and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

Sadie climbed up next to him and laid her chin on his thigh, staring up at him with those questioning brown eyes.

“What am I supposed to do, girlie?”

She didn't answer.

“Did she shut you out of her room?” Normally Sadie slept curled up next to Jessie, a place that Seth wished he could claim for his own.

He scratched her behind one ear. She closed her eyes and sighed, but he knew she would rather be in there with Jessie.

“That makes two of us.”

He drained the last of his beer and switched off the television. The Rangers were getting beat anyway. No sense in adding insult to injury.

“Come on, girl.” He made his way down the hallway to Jessie's room. He gave a small rap on the door and quietly peeked inside. It was still pretty early, but Jessie had already crawled into bed. From her lack of response he figured she was also asleep.

Sadie looked up at him, then over to the bed, quickly deciding on joining her mistress rather than hanging out with him.

What he wouldn't give to be able to slip into bed beside her and hold her close all night long.

As if they had a brain of their own, his feet carried him to the bed. What harm would there be to just lay with her for a while? Hold her close and pretend that everything was right with the world.

It might not be wrong, but it was pathetic. Still he climbed into bed with her.

He just wanted to hold her. She was facing away from him, so he curled one arm around her waist and spooned to her back.

She felt so good, warm and sweet. And he never wanted to let her go.

She sighed in her sleep and snuggled a bit closer to him. He grew hard as her behind pressed against him, but tonight wasn't about that.

“Down, boy,” he muttered, and buried his face in her hair. She smelled like strawberries and sunshine. He breathed in her scent and knew that he could never let her go. Finally—finally—he had her in his arms and he would do whatever it took to keep her there.

If only he knew what that was.

*   *   *

J
essie woke the next morning realizing that she'd had the strangest dream. She had been standing in line to get on a plane. She had no idea where she was going, but Seth came up behind her and pulled her close to him.
Somehow with his arms around her the trip didn't seem quite so important. She had missed her flight, but she didn't care. Not as long as she had Seth.

But in the light of day she could see the dream for what it was: her mind's pitiful attempt to keep Seth close. But he could only be hers in dreams, and she would do well to remember that.

“You have any plans for today?” he asked over their morning cup of coffee on the porch. She would miss this when she left. She would have to make a new tradition to follow to keep her mind off him. Like that was going to work.

At least she had a while before she would have enough money to head out. “I thought I would go up to the Chuck Wagon and see if I can get my job back.”

He looked up, clearly surprised. “You don't have to go to work.”

“I want to.”

“Are you sure you're up to it?”

She nodded.

For a minute she thought he might protest, but then he seemed to relax. “Just promise me that you'll take it easy and rest if you get too tired.”

Just another reason why she hated her lie from the night before. Physically she was fine. Emotionally she was a wreck and it wasn't only from losing the baby. With the baby she had lost Seth. And that was the worst part of all. “I promise.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I probably won't start until next week. I still have so much to do at the house.”

“Why don't you postpone getting a job until after you get the house cleaned out?”

Because that meant it would take that much longer before she could set them both free. “It'll be better this way. Give me motivation to get the house finished this week.”

“It was in pretty bad shape when I was there yesterday. Are you sure you'll have enough time?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I have a plan.”

*   *   *

H
er plan was simple. She'd make three piles: keep, donate, and throw away. Touch an item once and don't second-guess.

With the new plan in place, it took the rest of the week to get most everything in order. She called the Baptist church to come pick up the donations. Then she loaded all the trash into the can and pulled it to the curb for the next pickup day. Now all she had to do was take the keepers to her car and she was done.

She had saved three large boxes of things. Most were pictures mixed with a few keepsakes. She had kept it minimal. She would be leaving soon. The less she kept, the less she would have to move when the time came.

She moved two of the boxes to the Jeep, then went back into the house to get the third one. She placed the old black-and-white picture of her mother and her grandmother on top. Meemaw had told her so many times to make sure she kept that picture. How could she leave it behind? She ran her fingers across the glass, over the frozen images of the two women who had raised her. Now was not the time to get overly sentimental. She picked up the box and started for the door. She stopped just inside the house, unable to leave without one last look around. This was the last time she would be there. The bank would take possession and sell the house. And this part of her life would be over. She looked at the nearly empty room. Only a few pieces of large furniture remained. She left them for whoever bought the house. She had no need.

“Oh, Meemaw,” she whispered to the empty house. “I hope we're both going on to better things.”

She raised one shoulder to wipe the tears from her eyes. The picture frame on the top of her box unbalanced and fell.

Jessie tried to catch it but only succeeded in almost dropping the box she held.

The picture frame hit on the corner. The wood split and the glass shattered.

“Oh, no!” She set the box down next to the mess and started separating the stack of pictures that the frame held. She had never known there was more behind the picture of her mother and grandmother.

She shook the glass from the photos, realizing that there were only two photographs. The rest were merely paper, some sort of documents. She looked them over, nearly forgetting about the mess of glass that still needed to be swept up.

The papers were old, though how old she had no idea. Carefully she peeled them apart and gently unfolded them. Jackson Tractors, Midland, Texas, the first one said. She had never heard of them. Another was Southwestern Bell, and the third was for Rigley Produce. They were bonds, she finally realized. Was that why her meemaw wanted her to keep the picture, for these documents? The Southwestern Bell one had to be worth a little, but the other two were probably worthless. Only one way to find out. She'd take them over to Carson Accounting. Dale Carson was the only CPA that Cattle Creek had and most likely the one person in town who could track down the bonds' value, if there was any.

She shook them one last time just to make sure there were no other lingering shards of glass, then stacked them and the other photos on the top of her box. Careful to step over the glass, she took the last box to her car, then went in search of a broom.

*   *   *