Chapter Six #2
Mitch wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting on the metal stools at an old sherry-cask table by the window.
People went out, waving their goodbyes at Betty and the three other bar staff who Mitch hadn’t noticed earlier.
They all wore Cowgirls do it better T-shirts, like Betty, and seemed to enjoy themselves despite being stuck in a peculiar honky-tonk on a Friday night.
“So.” Jackie hiccupped, pressing her palm to her mouth. Her lipstick had withstood two Long Island Iced Teas, tons of singing and a corn dog she’d finished moments earlier. “What do you want to do?”
Mitch took a bite of his cheeseburger. He considered the answer as he chewed. “In life or right now?”
Jackie drained the rest of her latest cocktail, set the glass back on the cask and shrugged. “Whatever you want to share. I’m all ears.”
Mitch hummed under his breath. What did he want to do? That was a million-dollar question; one his parents insisted on answering for him.
“In future, I’d love to be an equine vet. In college, I want to get all the prereqs for that. And to swim well enough to keep my scholarship, I suppose. My father wouldn’t pay my tuition here.” He turned his second Lone Star bottle between his fingers. “Right now, I want to hear all about you.”
His eyes lifted in time to catch the faint shadow of a blush rushing to her cheeks.
“My life’s boring. I’d much rather hear more about you.” Jackie looked down at her hands and picked at her cuticles.
Mitch frowned. “I don’t believe someone like you has a boring life.”
The laughter that rose from her chest lacked the previous joy. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
“Must be the athlete in me.”
Jackie snorted. “Or you’re just nosy.”
“Maybe I’m both.” He shifted on the uncomfortable seat, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing them at the ankles.
“Go on. Spill. You know so much about me already but all I know about you is your first name, Long Island Iced Tea is your favorite drink, you have two uncles, and are apparently a regular in here. Oh, and you have some shady contacts who supply fake IDs.”
Her unblinking eyes pinned him with curiosity. “See? You know stuff about me.” She sighed, rubbing her left temple. “Fine. But promise not to run for the hills.”
Mitch frowned. Why would she say that? His immediate thought was that her family were criminals or politicians, though he wasn’t sure if there was much difference between the two. His father was a judge and could rub shoulders with both.
“My name’s Jacqueline van Moetlier.” She raised her glass like she had forgotten it was empty.
Mitch’s mouth dried up. “van Moetlier as in …”
“The hotels, yes.”
Even though he’d never been outside of the US, Mitch had heard the name.
Likely everyone had. It was pretty much impossible not to, with Mr. and Mrs. van Moetlier being one of the most prominent couples in the country.
The “it” couple, according to his mother, who loved to obsessively flick through glossy magazines.
He racked his brain, trying to remember if he knew they had a child, but came up blank.
“I … Wow. How many hotels do your parents own?”
Jackie’s cheeks colored fully. “Eighty-five.”
“Wow.”
She scoffed. “You’ve already said that.”
“I know but this is … I don’t even know.”
She propped her elbows on top of the cask and rested her chin on her palm, looking into his green eyes with wistful sadness.
“People often treat me differently when they know. I can’t keep it a secret, as I share the same surname, but I prefer to just be Jackie.
Being a van Moetlier comes with certain expectations.
This,” she gestured to her outfit and then extended her arm to encompass the general Betty’s Hens Saloon area, “is something the press would love. When Dad married Mom, a Texan cowgirl, it was a scandal.”
She pressed her lips in a thin line and paused, like she wanted to collect her thoughts.
“I was raised on Mimi’s ranch, outside Austin.
That’s where I still live, when I’m not at school.
My parents live there too, in a way. It’s home but they both travel a lot.
So, it’s really been just me, Mimi, the horses and cattle.
And all the ranch hands, of course.” She sighed, eyes misting over with a nostalgic sheen.
“I love it there. It was so much fun growing up on a working ranch. Hard work, too, but everyone always made sure I had fun.”
“You’re a cowgirl, then.”
Jackie nodded, flicking her hair off her shoulder. “Born and bred. Mimi laughs that I could ride before I could walk.”
“Who’s Mimi?”
“Oh, she’s my grandmother, I just call her Mimi. Always have. Her name’s Brenda.”
Mitch smiled at her. “And Albert’s your dad’s brother?”
Jackie nodded. “A much younger brother. He understands that it can get a bit much, our last name and the family. He’s the one who first brought me here, for my sixteenth birthday.
Betty took a shine to me, and it’s been my place to be myself: Jackie, an ordinary teenager, a cowgirl who spent last summer drinking watermelon moonshine with ranch hands when Mimi was asleep. Not an heiress.”
His chest squeezed with indiscernible gratitude that she’d shared with him such a special place for her.
He rested his elbows on the cask as well, leaning over.
His face was wisps away from Jackie’s. Her warm breath tickled his nose.
He waited until her blue eyes focused on him.
“I can’t even imagine. But you’re as far from ordinary as they come. I hope you know that.”
He watched her throat bob up and down as she swallowed.
“You took my breath away when we met, and it had nothing to do with your last name, or who your family are. It was just … you. The way you hold yourself, your energy, how beautiful you are … That’s the Jackie I can’t wait to spend more time with.”
She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, blinking twice. “But you didn’t text me?”
Mitch blew out a breath. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her he’d been busy, but that wasn’t the whole truth.
What was he supposed to tell her, that he was shy?
That he’d opened a new message on his phone and typed multiple texts, which he had then promptly deleted?
None of them sounded right. He’d even physically flinched as he re-read some of the words.
“Have you seen A Cinderella Story?” he asked.
Jackie’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “That rom-com with Hilary Duff?”
He nodded once.
“Sure,” she said slowly.
“You’re confident Chad Michael Murray. I’m shy Diner-Girl-Cinderella.”
Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing himself for even going there. What had possessed him to do something as uncool as admitting he liked to watch “girly” movies? He should’ve said he liked action-packed thrillers, the more explosive the better.
But Jackie threw her head back in laughter. The real, carefree kind, the same that had enchanted him the first time they met. “I love it. Hopefully, I won’t have to wait for the rain to kiss you.”
Mitch opened and closed his mouth. Suddenly, the idea of kissing Jackie was the only one occupying his mind. It barreled through his shyness and made itself at home.
Jackie bounced up and down on her stool as “This One’s for the Girls” started playing. “Ahhhh I love this song!” She ran up to the jukebox, turned the volume up and got the entire bar dancing and singing along to it. With the help of two guys, she climbed up on the bar, pulling Betty up too.
She grabbed an empty tequila bottle and used it as a microphone.
And Mitch just stood there. Hands in his pockets, he buzzed with second-hand euphoria from witnessing not only her joy, but also the way she cheered people up. His own worries about busy schedules, with swim practices and classes, melted away as he watched her.
He had never met anyone like her before.
Waiting for the song to finish, he leaned back, resting his shoulder against the wood-paneled wall.
He took a long drink from his new Lone Star’s bottle, eyes not leaving Jackie’s face.
They had chemistry and calculus lectures together, and he was already struggling to focus when he knew she was in the room.
He’d need to get a grip if he wanted to get into veterinary medicine.
The song finished and Jackie bowed her head amid laughter and clapping. “Thank you! And thank you so much for whoever put it on! Was it you, Dean? Oh, you know my favorites, not fair!”
She sat back down, exhaling sharply. “I’m exhausted now. Think I’m getting old.”
Mitch bit back a grin. “I have a feeling you’re not going to be old, even when you’re old. You have a young soul.”
“Well, thank you Mitch from Portland, that’s very kind!” She closed her eyes, fanning herself with a cardboard food menu. “This was a hell of a workout. I’m sure I’ll get my ass kicked tomorrow, though it’ll be nice to be back on Ricochet again. I miss her.”
When Mitch blinked twice, visibly confused, she laughed.
“My horse. I’ve had her since I was fourteen. Need to get in a good few hours of practice over the weekend because I have an event coming up next month,” she said.
“An event?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you? I’m a barrel racer.”
Mitch shook his head, not even attempting to hide his wide smile. “I should’ve guessed. You any good?”
She rolled her shoulders, uncrossing her legs.
“Depends on what you think is good. Last October, I came third in the WPRA World Finals in Waco. Really thought I had a chance at getting the Junior Barrel Champion title but ended up third. I had an injury over the summer—nothing serious but I didn’t compete in the World Championship Junior Rodeo.
Moving up to big leagues now … I joined WPRA when I turned eighteen. ”
Mitch gawked at her. “Wow. That’s impressive. You’ve got brains and beauty, and you’re an athlete.”
She looked down, her cheeks crimson. “There isn’t much to do when you grow up on a ranch. I told you I learned how to ride before I could walk. I was only semi-joking.”