Cowboy Chapter 15
The past few days had been tense. After Saranya received the note at her clinic, we’d been stressing about whether more would come and waiting for word from Micro or Maddog, which was stretching our nerves thin.
So far, nothing has been found. Since her clinic had no cameras, courtesy of the landlord who rented her the place, there was no way to identify the person who left it.
But Micro assured me he wasn’t giving up.
I insisted on escorting her to work. Saranya protested the move, saying I already had a long enough ride from her house to St. Augustine, but I ignored it.
It didn’t add that many extra miles to it.
When it was time for her to leave for the day, she was instructed to call me and wait until I arrived to escort her to her place or mine.
We were sticking to Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights at my house.
During the day, she promised that for any calls outside the clinic, she’d take Owen with her. He was a strong guy. I felt slightly better knowing he was going with her. I’d wanted to assign a brother or prospect, but she adamantly refused. She said if more threats came, then she’d allow it.
To put her staff on alert without alarming them, she simply informed them that a dubious letter had arrived and that we were being cautious.
She begged them to stay alert and, if they saw or heard anything suspicious, to let her know.
It was how she explained that she needed Owen with her every time.
It seemed she only took a tech with her if she thought she might need help.
Saranya had chosen not to tell her parents, Raff, or War about the letter. She refused to worry them. If we discovered something concrete, then she’d tell them. I agreed conditionally. If I felt there was a reason they should know, we’d tell them. She reluctantly agreed.
It was the stress of always watching that led me to come up with an idea to distract her. It would still be somewhat stressful, but she’d soon know there was no reason for it to be. And it would get her out of the Ormond Beach and St. Augustine areas.
I called my parents Thursday night, and during our catch-up chat, I told them I had an old lady.
They had been stunned, but ecstatic. They had a lot of questions.
I suggested that rather than telling them over the phone, Saranya and I would go to see them in Woodbine.
It was about eighty-five miles to get there, and the drive usually took around an hour and a half.
My parents happily agreed and said to come on Sunday, and we’d have a family dinner.
Saranya was nervous after I told her. I reminded her that I had gone to dinner at her parents’. She was my old lady. That meant both families had to get to know both of us. It couldn’t be one-sided. She agreed.
We were almost to my parents’ place. She’d been abnormally quiet during the drive whenever I tried to engage her.
I’d reassured her more than a few times that she had nothing to be concerned about.
My folks would love her. It didn’t help.
The only thing that would make her feel better was having the meeting over with.
“Wildling, see this,” I pointed to the open land out my window.
She nodded. “That’s the edge of my parents’ property on this end.
They have fifty acres. Dad inherited it from his father.
He grows crops of wheat and corn. In addition, he raises cows and pigs that he takes to slaughter and sells.
They’re not rich, but they make a decent living.
Mom works alongside him. They were married young.
He was twenty-three, and Mom was nineteen when they got married.
I came along two years later. There were some complications when Mom delivered me, so the doctors advised them not to have more kids.
I tease them that they want me to have kids so badly so they can spoil them.
They tell me that’s a given.” I grinned at her.
I earned a smile back. “It’s the same with my parents.
Mom and Dad wanted more children. Mom ended up hemorrhaging when she had me, and the only way to stop it was to give her a hysterectomy.
She told me she cried for months about it.
They considered adopting, but ultimately decided against doing so.
Then they gained War as a son, so they were happier.
Growing up, my friends flocked to my house because of my parents,” she informed me.
We exchanged a few more stories, and that kept her distracted until I slowed down and turned into a dirt driveway.
The house sat back away from the road. There were tall pines in front of the house that helped to shield it from prying eyes.
You could see it because the trees, which usually blocked the view in spring and summer, had no leaves.
“Babe, take a deep breath and let it out. I swear, everything will be wonderful.”
She did as I asked. After I parked outside the garage and got her out of the vehicle, I led her to the main door. We made it on the porch before the door opened, and there stood my parents. Both were smiling and mainly had eyes for Saranya. Dad swung open the screen door.
“Hello, son. And welcome, Saranya. It’s wonderful to meet you. Come in,” Dad said as he and Mom stepped back. Moving inside, I saw Mom scrutinizing Saranya, but not in a mean way. She appeared curious. I halted in the entryway.
“Mom, Dad, let me introduce you officially to my old lady, Saranya. Most people call her Sari. Babe, this is my dad, Alex, and my mom, Dyani.”
“It’s great to meet you both. Thank you for the invitation,” Saranya said sweetly.
“Oh, honey, there’s no need to be so formal. Our Zander sure found himself a beauty. You have to be special if he gave you his heart. As long as he has yours, then you’re our daughter. We don’t stand on formality in this house,” Mom said, right before she hugged and kissed Saranya on the cheeks.
I hugged Dad as they embraced. Mom was whispering in Saranya’s ear. Whatever she said made my woman beam. When they broke up, Dad grabbed Saranya for a hug, while I went to Mom. She whispered in my ear, too.
“She’s gorgeous, and you said she’s a vet, so she’s smart. Oh, honey, if she treats you right, then you have a treasure.”
“Mom, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more. Plus, she loves me.”
“That’s all I needed to know,” Mom sighed.
When the greetings were over, we went to the family room. There was a flurry as drinks were gotten and seats were taken. Once we were all taken care of, Saranya spoke first.
“Thank you both for such a warm welcome. I want you to know, Zander is a hit with my parents. And my best friend, War, even likes him. And Mrs. Brashears, I see where your son gets those curls and that skin I adore. The rest, I dare say, he got from his handsome dad.”
“I like her even more,” Dad preened. I chuckled.
“Please call us, Dyani and Alex. That Mr. and Mrs. isn’t necessary. Yes, he did inherit those curls and a few other things from me, but the rest is all Alex. Zander hated his curls when he was young. As he got older, they helped attract the girls, not that he needed help,” Mom told her.
“Mom, don’t tell her that,” I groaned.
“Like I can’t guess that you were probably beating the girls off you, or not, by the time you were ten. Add to that the fact that you were a cowboy and are now a biker. You used it to your advantage,” Saranya said without rancor.
“That’s not true. I was a pure angel when you got me,” I joke.
“You’re so full of it! My God, lightning will strike you. Better stop,” Saranya said after she stopped laughing. My parents were still snickering.
The upfront teasing and relaxed atmosphere were enough to dispel her anxiety over meeting my parents. I participated in the conversation, but left the bulk of it to Saranya and my folks. She was easily speaking to them, so I let her roll with it.
It was always amazing to be home. I wish I could visit more often. I typically came once a month. Sometimes they’d come down for a day. It was harder for them to come to me because they needed someone to feed the animals. I had plenty of help on the compound to take care of my horses.
The scent of freshly baked bread was in the air. It was mixed with something savory, followed by a sweet aroma. I got up and wandered into the kitchen, which was visible from the family room.
“Zander, you better not be in what’s on the stove,” Mom warned.
“You know me. I will. I can’t resist. God, it smells delicious. Anya, Mom made her homemade bread and a fresh peach-and-blueberry pie. And for dinner, it looks like lamb stew,” I exclaimed as I took the lid off the large pot on the stove.
“I hope you like lamb. Zander told me that you’re very adventurous when it comes to food.” Mom said a tad apprehensively. I had told her that Saranya ate almost anything.
“Oh, I am bold in my food choices. I’ve been torn between my dad’s love of anything hearty and American and my mom’s Thai cooking.
Most meals I grew up with, and even to this day, have a mixture of both.
I’ll go make sure his fingers or a spoon stay out of it,” Saranya promised, then got up and came to the kitchen.
My parents trailed her. Saranya leaned over, inhaled the scent of the stew, then groaned.
“That smells fabulous. I don’t think I’ve ever had lamb before. How do you make it? I can tell by his expression it’s a favorite of Zander’s, so I’d better learn how to make it for him,” she winked at me.
“Babe, you do that, and I’ll love you even more. She already cooks amazing meals for me. You’ll have to ask Mom what she puts in it. All I know is it becomes fabulous.”