Chapter Eighteen
Ihad to push Scarlett’s boxes away from the door when I heard Jackson drive up that evening. She had mulled over the idea of moving in with Grady all day, but by closing time she had made up her mind, and in a couple of hours she had completely cleaned out her bedroom.
“When you make up your mind, you don’t mess around,” I said.
“That’s right. I forge full speed ahead.”
I had lived out of two suitcases for more than half my life, and I could be packed up and gone in fifteen minutes or less, but Scarlett had lived in the trailer for five years.
“Where did all this stuff come from?” I asked. “Your room is smaller than mine.”
“You accumulate stuff when you live in one place for more than a few days,” she answered.
“But how did you get it all in one small bedroom?”
“Tetris,” she said with a shrug.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s called organization, and utilizing every single space,” she answered.
I opened the door expecting to find Jackson, but instead he and Grady stood side by side on the porch. The idea of the boxes being like a game of Tetris flitted away at the sight of the powerful testosterone before me.
“I’d invite you both inside, but I’m not sure there’s room,” I teased.
“I’ll start loading the stuff in my truck,” Grady said. “Don’t bother with introducing us. Jackson and I met each other in the café last week.”
“From what all you have to load, you should have brought a semi,” I told him.
“Hey, I’ve got a truck if you need more room, and I can help carry stuff out,” Jackson offered.
“I never turn down help,” Grady said. “And I really do appreciate the help. It’s supposed to start raining in a couple of hours, and I’d hate for any of Scarlett’s things to get wet. Let me repay you by asking you to supper Sunday evening at my folks’ house.”
“No problem, but you don’t owe me anything.”
The guys each picked up a box and headed toward Grady’s truck. In a few minutes they had everything loaded.
“Carla is coming to the supper, too,” Scarlett said with a wink. “And you’ll know a lot of the people, because they work for you out at the rig.”
“Then thank you. I would love to have supper with your family,” Jackson said.
“You could come to church with us, too,” Scarlett said. “It starts at six in the winter, and supper is at seven.”
“I’ll be there,” Jackson said. “The Baptist or the Catholic?”
“Baptist,” Grady answered.
Scarlett handed her house key to me. “This seems so final, and yet I’ll see y’all tomorrow morning. I hope that the new girl loves that bedroom. When I first came, it was a refuge—not only for my body, but also for my mind.”
“I’m not sure either one of those needed tinkering with for me, but my room is definitely a place I can call my own, which is more than I’ve had in years,” I said, and changed the subject before I started crying.
“I bet Rosie hates goodbyes as much as I do, and that’s why she conveniently had to go to the church to talk about some kind of fundraiser. ”
“This is not goodbye,” Scarlett frowned. “This is see you later.”
“I like that better. See you later, then, as in before daylight in the morning.”
“Yes,” she said with a chuckle and got into her vehicle.
Jackson slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I am happy for her.”
He opened his truck door for me and whistled as he rounded the front of the vehicle and slid in behind the wheel. “Since the roads are clear now, I thought we’d go over to El Paso to my favorite steak house, if that sounds good to you.”
“That sounds great.” My SUV looked sad, sitting there all alone as we drove away. Tressa would arrive on Monday afternoon by bus, which meant she wouldn’t have a vehicle.
“Change is tough,” Jackson said as he made a left turn at the end of the lot and then a right onto the highway.
“For everyone?”
“Absolutely,” he answered. “I retired from the military in July. For the first three months, I still had trouble getting into a different lifestyle. I missed the thrill of planning a new mission. I longed for my team and even missed mess hall food. I still have the option of going back as a civilian and teaching. That sounded good in the beginning.”
“When did all that stop?” I asked.
“It hasn’t, but it’s getting easier each day. Staying busy helps, and also knowing that the job offer to go back and train new teams is on the table until July 4,” he answered.
July 4.
D-Day for both of us. Rosie must have known.
“Independence Day,” I whispered.
“Shall we plan to celebrate that day—one way or another?” he asked. “Over a nice dinner with champagne?”
“How about with pizza and beer or a shot of good whiskey? I really don’t like champagne.”
He nodded. “You got it. Beer in a place where there’s dancing, even if the music is coming from a jukebox.”
“I would like that. Only let’s do it the day after the holiday.
I want to see fireworks somewhere that evening.
” Consenting to a date was a little scary—but then, so was traveling from Tucson to the Tumbleweed on a prayer and a few crackers.
“No, that’s not right. I don’t want to just see them.
I want to set them off like kids do. Mama was too afraid that I would get hurt to let me play with them when I was a little girl. ”
“You’ve never gotten to light a firecracker or hold a Roman candle?”
I shook my head. “I usually watched them from the window or balcony of whatever hotel we were in until I was fourteen.”
“And then?” he asked.
“Then I was playing poker in a room that seldom had windows,” I answered. “So, this year, I want to go to one of those roadside stands, spend money on fireworks, and set them off myself.”
“It’s a date. I’ll bring the beer and pizza,” Jackson said, “and find a good place for us to celebrate.”
What will happen in the five months ahead of us? Will I have put down more roots in that time?
“Will that be our eighth date?” I asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“So, is this our last date?”
“No, ma’am,” he repeated with a chuckle. “Independence Day will not be the date when we have a fight the first time. It could be our thirtieth one, but definitely not the eighth. That is, if you are willing to keep going out with me.”
“Depends,” I replied with my best poker face.
“On what?”
“By your standards, this is our third date, and you still haven’t kissed me,” I answered.
“Well . . .” He braked and pulled the truck over close to the piled-up snow on the side of the road.
“I expect it’s time to remedy that problem.
” He got out, rounded the front of the vehicle, and opened the passenger door.
His arm brushed against mine when he reached across my body to unfasten my seat belt.
I put my hand in his when he held it out, and a huge tumbleweed floated over the six-foot-high bank of dirty snow.
He helped me out of the truck, cupped my cheeks in his hands, and his eyes fluttered shut.
I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue, and his mouth closed on mine.
Heat like I had never known before shot through my body, and I leaned in to him so close that I could hear his heartbeat pounding against my chest.
When the kiss ended, he scooped me up and set me back in the seat. “Does that help you make up your mind about dating me?”
“It does, but I would like to know if we are exclusive.” My voice had gone high and squeaky.
“I don’t have the time, energy, or want-to for anyone else in my life,” he answered. “How about you?”
“Same,” I told him.
He started the engine and pulled back out onto the road. “Then tonight we will celebrate our decision to date—that kiss was hotter’n blue blazes.”
“Yes, we should—and yes, it was.” I didn’t tell him that I’d never been in a committed relationship before.
Or that he was the one person that might make me get off the fence concerning spreading my wings and going back to my familiar lifestyle or falling over to the other side and putting down roots.
“Feels a little surreal out here, doesn’t it?” Jackson said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen snow piled up this high. Seems like we’re driving through a tunnel.”
“If we had a full moon, it might be different, but that little sliver up there doesn’t give us much light,” I answered. “But I kind of like it this way. It seems so intimate and private.”
“Me too. Like we’re the only two people in the whole world,” he said.
“Exactly. You were with your team when you went on missions. Did you ever wish for more alone time?” I asked.
“You had lots of alone time,” he said in return. “Did you ever wish for family?”
“Not the kind that Frank had,” I chuckled.
“Why not? What was wrong with his kinfolk?”
“I only saw them four times a year. Easter, Independence Day, Thanksgiving, and sometime close to Christmas. They all came down from the hills for the holidays with a truckload of casseroles, their Bibles, and moonshine. They would argue about religion, politics . . . and it got louder every time they emptied a quart jar of ’shine. ”
“Sounds like a hoot to me,” Jackson said.
“As an eight-year-old little girl, believe me it was not.” I shook my head, trying to shake away the thoughts that arose about Frank’s abandonment. “Now, where is this steak house that we’re headed toward?”
“On the other side of El Paso, not far from the Mexican border,” he answered. “Are you hungry? We could always stop at some place before that.”
“No, I’m good. A steak sounds great.”
He was almost too good to be true. He didn’t make me feel awkward about sleeping in his house. He helped Grady load up boxes. And he was concerned about me. Something had to be wrong with him, and makeup sex or not, I intended to be cautious.
What about that kiss? my inner voice asked.
“Too hot for words,” I whispered before I realized I was talking out loud.
“What was that?” Jackson asked.
“I was muttering to myself,” I answered. “Like you said earlier, I’ve spent a lot of time alone. Sometimes I forget to keep my thoughts in my head.”