Chapter 5
Jasmine
I frowned into my whiskey as emotions swirled through me, cycling quickly between my chest and my mind.
“You’ve gone and done it this time,” I whispered to myself, huddling deeper in the wool wrap I’d grabbed from the back-door hook before I settled on the porch.
With a sigh, I stared off into the deepening darkness. This time of night was often called the witching hour, but I’d found it to be soothing. No matter the time of year, it was silent and pleasant for its silence.
Few stars shone, thanks to the clouds. The distant lights at the barn illuminated the building.
After frustration and pity twisted around, I took a long sip of my drink.
I wrinkled my nose at the burn of the alcohol.
With a flick of my wrist, I dumped out the last few drops and the ice over the rail and into the flowerbed.
Wouldn’t pay to get drunk—not with Christmas tomorrow.
My grandbabies were all too excited to lay abed long.
The kids chose to continue the tradition of a large family Christmas that Cam was hosting.
I’d taken my presents down to shove under his too-stuffed tree a couple of hours ago.
I hadn’t stayed long, letting my kids and their spouses enjoy an evening together.
Instead, I’d smiled and waved and made the lonely walk back here to my house.
Much as I loved the place, it held many memories. Most were good, many weren’t. But that was life, not just life in a house. I wasn’t typically lonely or melancholy, and annoyance flared hot in my belly.
This funk I’d been in today, since Steve fled my bed, really needed to end. I straightened to my full height and rolled back my shoulders, lifting my chin as I continued to stare out into the thick, velvety darkness.
Steve wanted to ignore me, ignore what we’d shared the night we’d spent wrapped in each other’s arms and again tonight, but now that he’d forced me to face that moment again, I wouldn’t let him.
Hell, I was closer to the grave than the cradle and now wasn’t the time to get tentative.
“Just going to have to up my game,” I said.
And I knew just who to ask to help me.
A little over a week later, Jenna’s eyes sparkled as the shallow dimple peeked out of her cheek. For the first time in weeks, she seemed to be finding her way back from the grief.
I’d asked her to come over while Cash napped, and she’d complied. I was pretty sure she knew why I’d asked her over because, despite myself, I’d fretted all during the holiday week. Jenna had noticed but kept silent, which was one of the many reasons I loved the girl to bits.
Now that New Year’s was behind us, I was ready to tackle my Steve problem, and Jenna was going to help me.
Jenna had settled in my living room on the larger couch that faced the windows, her feet on one of the new rugs the kids had purchased for me. It was thick and luxurious, not something I’d have been able to afford on my own.
I’d always refused the kids’ offers for financial help.
I might not have that many zeroes in my bank account, but I was comfortable.
The house and land were paid off, had been the entire time I’d lived here.
Cam insisted on taking care of the ever-rising property taxes, so I just had to manage my house upkeep and myself these days.
The horses I trained and sold more than met my needs and some extra cash for me to set aside.
All in all, I was better off financially than I had been in decades, and I enjoyed the independence afforded by my growing nest egg.
Still, I knew I’d have to stop training horses at some point, which was why I’d focused more on growing my savings than improving the house.
We’d lived with that kitchen my entire time there, and it still served me well, even if the kids complained about the dated appliances and aged countertops.
Solid, well-built, it went on. Just like me.
“Earth to Mama Grace,” Jenna said, snapping me back to our conversation. “I thought you had something to tell me.”
“I do,” I said, smiling at her.
Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she had on gray leggings with an oversized purple sweatshirt along with a pair of fancy sneakers.
Her engagement ring and diamond studs that Cam had given her for Christmas flashed in the watery afternoon sunlight.
She set down her glass of tea and a plate with a half-eaten oatmeal raisin cookie.
She’d nibbled through part of it as I explained the entire situation to her.
“I knew something was up with you.”
She picked up the cookie and took a big bite.
I bit my cheek so I wouldn’t smile at her as I watched her eat with gusto.
I shifted my tush on the smaller couch, aware this one didn’t get as much use.
They were older now, but they were comfortable, and done up in a thick brown material that had survived Cam as a boy.
My house smelled of brown sugar and, faintly, of lemon and rosemary from the environmentally friendly cleaning products I whipped up every few months. The space was tidy and clean, as always. Now that the kids were grown, I didn’t abide mess or dust.
“Steve won’t be glad you already figured out we’d ah…hooked up.”
The words felt weird on my tongue and Jenna scrunched her nose, letting me know they sounded just as awkward.
“He seems to think he’s good at ‘covert ops’.” I rolled my eyes even as I used my fingers for the air quotes the girls liked to use.
Jenna giggled, and that sound brought joy to my heart.
Jenna was an intoxicating mix of fragile and confident, and Cam hadn’t stood a chance resisting her.
Not that I would have wanted him to. Jenna wasn’t easy—high maintenance, the kids called it—but she felt deeply and loved more wholly than nearly anyone I’d ever met, which made her perfect for Cam. My boy loved just as hard.
“You know I need to call in the rest of the crew,” Jenna said. She flopped back on the couch, hands over her belly. She didn’t even realize how she was sitting—almost as if she was protecting herself from herself. Oh, this girl.
“They’ll be hurt otherwise,” she added.
I pressed my hands to my chest, right over my fluttering heart. “I know. But I’m worried Kate will judge me for wanting a relationship. And Aya will judge me for having…relations with her father-in-law.”
I blushed—blushed!—at my comments. Nothing sounded right.
“First, don’t ever say relations again. That was weirder than hooking up.” Jenna crinkled her nose. “Just like I struggle with the term making love. Just…no.”
“I don’t want to call it whatever you do,” I said.
“Good because that’s weirder and grosser still.” She picked up her phone and sent a text.
I laughed. “I’ve been having relations longer than you’ve been alive.”
“So, you got the doing down, just not the lingo. And if Cam hears you, I’m not responsible for his conniption fit.”
“Noted.” My tone was drier than the hard-packed horse arena.
“So, I’ve let the girls know to head over, stat. Kate’s working out babysitting, but Nash is home to snuggle sweet little Levi.”
I melted at his name. Levi was the best baby I’d ever been around. He slept well, ate like a farmhand, and had his daddy’s smile. He was, in a word, perfect.
“What about Cash?” I asked, who was an absolutely perfect specimen of toddlerhood.
“When he wakes from his nap, Cam will take him out with the horses. Don’t worry, I got my sweet pea covered.”
My girls were beautiful and precious, their eyes as glossy as jewels and their coloring varied enough to remind me of butterflies. But these ladies were strong. Resilient. They didn’t suffer fools—and I’d been one, which meant they wouldn’t let me get away with my choices.
That was one reason I hadn’t wanted to tell them.
With a glance to ensure everyone had enough tea, I settled in my chair in my kitchen.
We’d moved into the large, sunny room so the girls were closer to the refrigerator…
and the cookies they planned to devour. My hands shook, and I shoved them into my lap, trying to ignore the age spots on the backs of my hands.
“I made a mistake,” I announced. I focused on Aya, most worried about her reaction to my next statement. “Steve and I…” Could I say it? My cheeks blossomed.
“What she’s trying to say is that she and Steven hooked up at your wedding,” Jenna said.
Aya hid a giggle behind her hand, her eyes dancing. At least she wasn’t upset about the situation.
“Hmm, I’ve been wondering about you two,” Kate said, her tone softer. She swallowed, and I worried she was thinking of her daddy. “I noticed the sexual tension.” She shrugged.
“I don’t want to cause problems between us,” I said. Worry gnawed at me, and I shifted in my chair.
The three of them exchanged looks before Aya reached over and laid her hand on my arm.
“There isn’t a problem with us, and I doubt there’ll be a problem with our guys. But Steve…he’s another issue altogether.” Aya grimaced. “I’m guessing you told us this because he pushed you away, and you don’t know how to go about pursuing anything romantic with him. Or if you should.”
My shoulders slumped, mostly because I was relieved the girls weren’t upset, but also because Aya’s words reverberated against my insecurities, causing them the grow…and grow…and grow.
“I’m not sure I should, but not because I don’t want to. He locks down his emotions so tightly.” I scowled. “I know he’s been hurt, and bad, but that kind of repression can’t be good for him.”
“I’m sure it isn’t,” Aya said. “I don’t know why he’s the way he is—just that Nash told me Steve had a very rough childhood.”