Читать книгу The Best Little Joeville - Anne Eames, Anne Eames - Страница 10

Three

As Hannah had promised, Wednesday was a busy day in the kitchen. In between serving the usual three meals, Jenny and Hannah prepared for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner.

After supper Jenny covered her cranberry gelatin mold and found the last available space in the refrigerator, while Hannah wrestled with the thirty-pound turkey, finding another feather to pluck.

“There. Think I got ’em all. Ya sure we cain’t stuff it tonight? I always have, ya know.” Hannah reached for the large box of foil.

“I know a lot of people do, but it’s much safer to wait till just before we put it in the oven.” Jenny eyed the old woman who had had her way in this room for over forty years, surprised she was even considering a change.

“Well then...ya’ve proved ya know what yer doin’ since the first day ya set foot in here, Jenny Moon. So guess we jes wait till t’morrow.” She wrapped the big bird and shoved the box of foil in Jenny’s direction for the dressing.

Jenny smiled, enjoying the compliment Hannah had just paid her.

“So ya gonna stay here this time, young one? I sure did miss yer help. These old legs cain’t take much more of these long days.”

The casual conversation ended as subtly as a brick through the window. Hannah was now working her agenda. Jenny knew it would come sooner or later, but was surprised how soon. She remembered Max’s open invitation the last time she’d been here. There was no doubt she would be a welcome addition to the ranch. The work was actually easier and a lot less stressful than her catering job back home. And here she would be with Savannah and all the others she had come to care for. So why the hesitation? Only one word popped into her thoughts.

Shane.

Could she be around him for long and not get involved? Was she ready to trust him? Or any man, as far as that goes? A fling was one thing, but a commitment was quite another. Her mother had taught her well: men could not be trusted. In a flash she pictured Ryder with Savannah and the obvious love they shared Maybe, just maybe, some men were different....

“Whatcha daydreamin’ ’bout, girl? Didn’t ya hear my question?”

“Hannah, you don’t need me. Savannah’s a big heip and—”

“And she’s gonna have a youngin soon...who has ta come first, a course. Whatever time or energy she’s got left over will be spent changin’ beds and vacuumin’ for me. M‘back cain’t handle them jobs anymore. Besides, she loves doin’ Max’s paperwork in his clinic out back. That alone takes her hours nearly every day.” She picked up the bundled bird and headed for the extra refrigerator on the side porch.

Jenny grabbed the dressing and beat her to the door, opening it wide for Hannah to pass. When she did, she shot Jenny a what’s-holding-you-back kind of glance, laced heavily with a dose of guilt for even resisting the idea.

They found room for the food in the old refrigerator and rushed in from the unheated porch. Jenny hugged herself and tried avoiding Hannah’s glare, but soon the big woman stood squarely in front of her and folded her arms across her heavy chest.

“Well?”

Jenny took her time looking up, knowing full well the expression she would find on Hannah’s face. This was a woman used to getting her way. Finally Jenny met the old woman’s determined stare. “I’ll give it some serious thought, okay?” She hadn’t meant for annoyance to seep into her tone, but she knew it had.

“Well, maybe you’d think better by yerself.” Hannah untied her apron and hung it on the hook near the door. “Mind cleaning up? I’m all tuckered out.”

“No...not at all. Go on and rest.”

Hannah waved without turning back. “Thanks, girl. See ya in the mornin’.”

Except for wiping the counters and putting a few utensils in the dishwasher, there was little left to do. Jenny moved around quickly, eager to check on Savannah and Ryder’s progress with the outside decorations—anything to keep from mulling over Hannah’s proposition. It was way too soon for such a decision. A nagging inner voice said she was wrong, but she ignored it.

With the last counter wiped clean, Jenny hung up her apron and pushed through the swinging door to the dining room. The French doors at the far side leading to the living room were open wide, showcasing a roaring fire behind the large stone hearth, its warm glow illuminating the spacious yet cozy area. Jenny crossed to it and held her hands to the flames, her gaze fixed on the areas of blue dancing along the massive pile of logs. When her eyes began to sting, she stepped backward and glanced out the bay window to her left. An afghan lay atop a pile of seat cushions, inviting her closer. She walked over and settled in one corner, tucked her legs under her and pulled the cover over her lap to ward off the chill from the small frosty-cornered panes in front of her.

Beyond the window she watched the trio hanging lights on the most perfect evergreen she had ever seen. Ryder’s truck lights beamed on the lower half of the tree. Savannah sat on the front bumper and untangled long strands of multicolored lights, handing them gingerly to Ryder who stood on a tall ladder next to her. Jenny’s gaze drifted to the opposite side of the tree where Shane worked in the shadows. His hands were slow and deliberate as he tucked each light into snowy branches. Always his movements seemed evenly paced, unrushed and with a purpose. To look at him, it would seem he didn’t have a tense muscle in his body. There was a grace and calm about him she envied. Her life had always been a series of deadlines, forever rushed, no time for reflection.

The thought jarred her and she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. Had she intentionally pushed herself from one task to the next, intentionally leaving no time to analyze her motives, her anxieties, her fears? Fears? Where did that word come from? Even the thought of it made her shudder. Had she ever acknowledged that she was afraid of anything? Not that she could recall.

She shook her head as if it would vanquish the idea, then refocused on Shane’s face, wishing he was closer, that she could see his eyes.

No! It was too soon to think of this man. She closed her eyes to block out his image and immediately her mother came to mind. Poor Mom. All that anger and hate. She opened her eyes and looked to the heavens, hoping that was where Mom was, that she had found some peace at last, that somehow—

“I think my mama lives on that one over there.” Jenny turned with a start. Billy stood behind her, his finger pointing to an area in the north. She expelled a long breath and smiled at him, then followed the direction of his arm, trying to spot his special star.

“Sometimes when I’m watching it, it looks like it’s winking at me.” He knelt on the cushion next to her and pressed his nose to the glass. After a moment he leaned back on his heels and looked at Jenny.

“I’m sorry about your mama, Jenny. Savannah told me.”

Jenny reached out for him and tugged him closer, sharing the afghan with him. He snuggled easily under her arm and she could feel the warmth of his young body spread through her.

“Mama told me to picture her playing with the angels and that sometimes she’d even put on some wings. Do you ever think of your mama like that?”

Jenny rested her chin on his silky blond hair and thought about his simple question. No, she hadn’t. She never thought of her mother playing or smiling or laughing. The world may have frowned on Maddy’s chosen profession, but at least Billy’s mother seemed happy. “Our mamas were very different people, Billy,” she said finally.

He turned his face up to Jenny, his eyes round with curiosity. “How?”

Jenny sighed and struggled to simplify her answer. “My mama was unhappy, Billy.”

“Why?”

She stared out the window, no longer seeing anyone. She wasn’t in the mood to answer that question, but then she never was. Billy was staring at her, waiting, his eyes filled with concern. She swallowed hard, then began. “M-my father left us before I was born.”

“So did mine,” he said, a frown creasing his forehead. “But mama always seemed happy. She said we were so lucky to have each other.”

Jenny kissed Billy’s forehead and could smell the sweet scent of his shampoo. “Your mama was very special, Billy.”

“I know,” he said, a smile curving his small mouth.

Jenny heaved a sigh of relief, thinking the topic had been exhausted, but then Billy spoke again.

“Did she tell you about your dad?”

“A little.”

He lifted his head and stared at her again. Details. He wanted details and Jenny wanted to pretend the man never existed. She could feel the tightness in her chest and decided to give him the shortest response possible. Certainly there were other things they could talk about. Safer things. Billy was still watching her face and she could feel herself getting angry. She wanted to tell him it was none of his business. But he was a child—an adorable one at that. And she had no reason to be angry with him.

“She told me he was a full-blood Crow Indian and that—” she hadn’t thought about this part in years and it suddenly struck her as eerie “—and that he was from Montana originally.” Suddenly she wondered where in Montana. Was it close by? “He told her he was leaving to visit his sick father and that he’d be back...but she never heard from him again.”

“Is that why you don’t like Buck?”

She met his steady gaze, surprised with his question. “Who said I don’t like Buck?”

Billy shrugged. “Nobody. It’s just that you’re different when you’re around him. You’re real nice to everybody else—” he looked at his lap “—well, except maybe Uncle Shane sometimes.”

This kid didn’t miss a thing. But were her actions so transparent? Obviously they were, if an eight-year-old could see through her. After an awkward silence, she lifted his chin with her finger and looked him in the eye. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re much too wise for such a young man?”

“Uh-huh. Dad and Savannah.” He smiled at last, apparently pleased with Jenny’s observation. “Sometimes Grandpa Max, too.”

“Well, I guess you can add me to that list, Billy Malone.”

He snuggled back under her arm and watched the tree decorating outside. So did Jenny, relieved that the boy’s questions had finally ceased.

The silence lasted less than five minutes.

“I wish my mama was with me, but there’s no place better in the world to live than here at the Malone ranch with Dad and Savannah, Grandpa Max and all the others.” He glanced up at her again. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so sad if you stayed here, too.”

“Enough, young man. I am not sad.” She forced a big smile that she could see did not convince him. He turned back to the window and fell silent again till Ryder plugged in the lights. Then he gasped.

“Oooh. Look, Jenny. Isn’t it neat?”

Through bleary eyes she looked from the twinkling tree to the awe on Billy’s innocent face and she knew one thing was for certain.

Leaving this place wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought.

The men rose slowly from their seats around the television, stretching and rubbing their stomachs as they inhaled the flavorful scents wafting from the festive dinner being set on the table in the next room. The Detroit Lions had barely beaten the San Francisco Forty-Niners, but Jenny and Savannah were milking the victory for all it was worth.

“What a great bet you came up with, Jen,” Savannah said loudly, finding a spot for the cranberry gelatin mold.

Josh was the first to react “She was just kidding. That wasn’t a real bet.”

Hannah deposited the golden brown turkey in front of Max’s place for the traditional carving. “Huh! It didn’t sound like a joke to me. All you guys get to clean up while we women watch a movie. That was the bet and I heard it. And ya better not break one of these here pieces of china or crystal, either...or you’ll have me ta answer to.”

There was some good natured groaning from the men as they settled into their places around the table. Shane and Ryder were the last to enter the room.

“It’s all Joe’s fault,” Ryder grumbled, dropping into his chair.

“Yeah.” Shane nodded, fiddling with the sound on the CD player before joining him. “If Montana was still quarterbacking, the Forty-Niners would have won for sure, right Billy?”

Billy laughed. “It’s so much fun to live in Joeville during football season, Uncle Shane. Did you know all the kids at school call this town Joe, Montana.” He giggled again.

“Yep. Did you know your dad was the one who started that tradition?” He noticed Billy’s eyes growing wider as he looked at Ryder with new admiration.

“Really?” Billy asked as Ryder smiled and nodded. “Could you and Uncle Shane teach me how to play football someday?”

Satisfied with his music selection, Shane walked to his seat and stood behind it. He eyed the young boy who looked with wonder at Ryder. Would he ever have a child look at him that way? Shane wondered. Would he even have a child? He was nearly thirty-four and he didn’t even have a woman in his life. Yet at times like this, feeling the warmth around the table, he wished he had his own young family. He pulled out his chair with a loud sigh and sat down at one end of the table, opposite Max.

“Football, football, football.” Hannah stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “We women slave for days to put this feast before ya, and all you guys can do is talk about some silly pigskin.”

Max reached out for Hannah’s hand from his seat at the end nearest the kitchen. “You’re right, Hannah. Now come and join us.” He motioned to the chair next to him, which on very rare occasions Hannah reluctantly occupied. She pushed wiry strands of gray hair behind her ears and smoothed the front of her white apron with her hands, looking very uncomfortable sitting with the family instead of in the kitchen as was the norm. She looked up shyly and Shane winked at her and lifted his glass.

“I propose a toast to Hannah, Savannah—” his gaze moved slowly to his left “—and Jenny.” Their eyes met and held a moment before he finished. “For your labor of love that we are all about to enjoy. Thank you very much, ladies. And Happy Thanksgiving to all.”

“Here, here.” The others lifted their glasses and drank.

Max said grace and then began carving the turkey as others passed platter after platter around the long table, conversation coming easily over the joyous sounds of Handel’s Messiah drifting from the living room. Everyone made sounds of appreciation as one dish after another was sampled and enjoyed.

From the corner of his eye, Shane could see a pink tinge on Jenny’s neck when the compliments didn’t stop. She kept her head down and continued eating, but he could feel her embarrassment. He wanted to add his own praise, yet he held back, seeing her discomfort. His own ill ease manifested itself under the table. If he moved his left leg a few inches to the left, he was certain it would touch hers. It felt as though a magnet was attached to his knee, the pull so great that he had a difficult time concentrating on the food in front of him. To his relief, he heard his father clear his throat and knew he was about to speak.

“After this marvelous meal I hesitate to bring this up. I’m sure the food won’t be nearly as good, but the university is having a special banquet two weeks from tomorrow... and, well—” he drank some wine and looked uncomfortable “—it’s in my honor and the family has been invited to attend.”

Shane lifted his glass and aimed it at his father. “Congratulations.”

The others followed suit with Josh asking the question, “Is there an award or something?”

“Well, yes.”

“For—?” Josh wouldn’t let him off the hook.

“Man of the Year.”

“Way to go, Grandpa!” Billy ran from his chair and threw his arms as far as they would reach around Max’s chest. He ruffled the boy’s hair while the others laughed, hooted and applauded.

Josh turned to Jenny next to him and explained further. “Dad has been lecturing to med students at Montana State every Wednesday since he stopped his full-time practice. And he’s mentored so many that there probably isn’t a university hospital in the country who hasn’t heard of some of his techniques in neurosurgery.”

Max smiled down at Billy and the boy scurried back to his seat, a forkful of mash potatoes in his mouth a moment later.

“Speaking of the mentor program,” Max started. “There’s an especially bright student that I’ve been thinking of approaching about working here at my clinic part-time. I’ve asked her to join our table so you can all have a chance to meet her.”

“Her?” Josh asked, suddenly more interested.

“Yes...Taylor Phillips. And you, Joshua, are probably my only hesitation in extending the job offer.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Not only is she bright, but she’s blond, beautiful and just about the age you’d be interested in.”

“What’s that?” Ryder piped in. “Fourteen?”

Josh tossed a roll across the table and Ryder caught it. “Very funny.”

Max laughed with the others, then added, “She’s in her mid-twenties...a graduate student and one helluva physical therapist. I don’t have the patience to do the follow-up work with my busted up cowboys, but I’d bet they wouldn’t balk at physical therapy if Taylor was the one they had to work with every week.”

“That special, huh?” Josh grinned.

“Come to the banquet and find out.” Max looked around the table. “Savannah and Jenny... I hope you’ll come, top...if it doesn’t sound too boring.”

The women eyed each other for only a second. “Of course we’ll come,” Savannah said. “If this Taylor is as gorgeous as you say, I’d better keep a leash on Ryder.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, feigning interest, and Savannah punched him playfully in the arm.

“Uncle Shane,” Billy said between mouthfuls. “Do you think I could stay overnight with Buck while you’re all at the party?”

Shane glanced at Jenny before answerittg, noticing she wore her usual frown whenever Buck’s name was mentioned. “I bet Buck would love that, Billy. Why don’t you go ask him after dinner. You could take him a big plate of leftovers while you’re at it.”

Billy stopped eating and the space between his eyebrows dimpled. “How come Buck isn’t here with us now?”

While everyone else kept their heads down and their forks moving, Shane could feel Jenny’s stare, waiting for his answer. “He was invited, big guy, but Buck isn’t too keen about crowds and small talk. One-on-one is more his style. That’s why I’m sure he’ll love you to stay with him when we go to Grandpa’s dinner, okay?”

Billy studied Shane’s face a moment, then resumed eating. “Okay.”

After a few seconds of utensils scraping plates and no conversation. Josh changed topics in his usual upbeat fashion.

“Think I’ll go into Billings tomorrow and load up on materials for my house. I’ve just about run out of drywall and studs.”

Ryder heaved a sigh. “Great. That means I get a day off from swinging a hammer. Thanks, little bro.”

“Enjoy it while you can.” Josh laughed. “Wait till you see what I’ve got in store for you next week.” He glanced at Shane. “You ought to ride over and look at the place, Shane. You wouldn’t believe how much we’ve got done already.”

Shane shifted in his seat and accidentally his leg rubbed against Jenny’s calf. She didn’t pull away. He knew he should—what signals it might send if he didn’t move soon.

He didn’t move a hair.

“Well?” Josh persisted.

“Uh...sure. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow morning after chores.” He wanted to ask Jenny if she’d like to ride along, but he couldn’t look at her. But then she slid her leg ever so slightly against his and he knew she was reading his thoughts. There was no doubt they would ride out to Josh’s farm together. Tomorrow. Miles from the ranch and curious eyes. Alone in a place with no heat other than the wood stove in the kitchen and a fireplace off the parlor.

Then he remembered Ryder mentioning there was a bed.

He shifted in his chair and broke contact under the table. This line of thought was as dangerous as the woman sitting next to him. Maybe he should ask Billy to come along—

Savannah broke into his reverie. “Ryder...as long as you have some free time tomorrow, why don’t you take Billy and me into town for some Christmas shopping?”

Ryder groaned, but nodded.

Shane pushed his plate away, food no longer on his mind.