Chapter 29 Jake
TWENTY-NINE
JAKE
Yesterday had been an absolute crapshoot.
One of my newest hands drove the tractor over an open drainage ditch, breaking an axle.
To make things worse, the ground was too damn soft to get a truck out there to tow it out.
I ended up having to call for a tow truck with a much longer cable attached to a winch.
Several hours with everyone working and we finally got the tractor out and towed to the barn. Sure, Dave apologized. Over and over. I get it. Mistakes happen. But this one was both costly and time consuming.
Everyone was exhausted, so I sent them home. It was close to midnight by the time I fell into bed. This morning was another whirlwind of new problems, and it took me until well into the afternoon to call Julia, managing to catch her between patients at the clinic.
I needed to get right with her, since I felt as though the happy family I’d been imagining was slipping out of my grasp. The realization that she was still planning for two nurseries had thrown me for a loop and I hadn’t reacted well. I’d been dwelling on it ever since.
I regretted my hasty retreat from her bed, and had even considered turning back.
But I’d suspected if I’d stuck around, we wouldn’t have resolved anything.
At least not the way I wanted to. I needed to use the time I had with her to work this out.
There had to be a way to make this all work and convince her that we should live together on my ranch.
It was the only thing that made sense in my head.
“I’ve got ten minutes,” she said after greeting me.
“Busy day?”
“Very. Started early with some sick alpacas and one very cranky peacock that came from no-one-knows-where. I’m in the clinic now and so far, I’ve had to deal with three dogs and four cats, including a very pregnant Persian who snuck outside to get it on with the neighborhood feral. How are you?”
She didn’t sound upset that I hadn’t called her, which was good, I supposed. “Tractor in a drainage ditch.”
“Oh, no.” I could hear the bell over the door at her clinic chime. “That’s my next patient. Is there something you wanted to talk about or should I call you after they leave?”
I didn’t want to wait, so I blurted out, “I think we need to focus on us. No horse talk, no baby shopping. Us.” That was the conclusion I’d reached earlier in the day.
It wasn’t that the other stuff was getting in the way.
That other stuff was important, especially when it came to our child, but with all our focus on everything else, we hadn’t spent much time outside of bed where it was just about the two of us.
I felt I owed it to our baby to have a solid relationship with Julia by the time our little girl or boy came along. “How about a date?”
There was a pause, enough to make me worry she’d reject the idea. “A date? Could we go stargazing again? That was my favorite—”
“I was thinking a real date. Going out. How about the Squeaky Wheel? We could dance,” I said. She liked dancing with me, or so it had seemed the night of the fundraiser. And I’d loved having her in my arms.
“Oh, okay,” she accepted. “But maybe we could ask Brian and Caitlin and Cal and Amy to join us. A triple date. I’d like to get to know them all better, since they’ll be our baby’s aunts and uncles.”
Not what I had in mind. I envisioned the evening as just the two of us, but I’d take what I could get with her. And if she felt more comfortable with my family, maybe she’d be more open to the idea of moving to the ranch. “Sure. I’ll make the phone calls. Tomorrow night? I could come pick you up?”
“Yes, pick me up,” she confirmed. “I won’t leave without you this time. Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”
Before I could say goodbye, she hung up the phone. I tapped out a text to Brian and Cal about joining us at the bar.
I picked her up the next evening. She wore the red dress again, the one I’d been happy to help her out of on the night of the dance.
“It’s the only dress I have that fits,” she admitted when she met me at her door.
“I like it. You look beautiful,” I said.
“Thank you.” She gave her dogs each a pat on the head and locked her door. “I may need some new clothes soon, roomier ones.”
“Maternity?” I asked.
“I’m not ready for that yet. I just need a few things that don’t cut off my circulation. Are the others meeting us?”
“That’s right.” My brothers and their fiancées were happy to join us and it hadn’t taken any convincing.
As much as I wanted Julia alone, going with a group did take some of the pressure off.
During the drive, she told me about the patients she’d seen recently, including more details on where they’d eventually discovered the peacock had come from and an amusing story about two dogs who decided they were in love in her waiting room.
Neither of us touched on anything personal.
Maybe on the trip home or during the evening we’d get there.
At least that was my hope when we pulled into the parking lot of the Squeaky Wheel.
Mounted over the building was a giant lighted sign with a turning wagon wheel but some of the bulbs had burned out making the wheel look as if it truly did squeak.
The other couples were getting out of Brian’s truck, having come together, so we all walked in at the same time.
“Whoo-hoo,” Caitlin exclaimed. “It’s karaoke night. Let’s get a table near the front.”
So much for dancing. I’d have to find another way to be close to Julia. I took her hand as we walked to a table close to the stage, where a young man was singing a poor rendition of an Alan Jackson song. When he finished, people graciously clapped anyway.
“Who’s next?” the bar’s manager, acting as a sort of emcee, asked over the microphone.
Cal raised his hand, gave Amy a wink, and walked up on stage. A minute later he was singing an old Alabama love song. Cal’s attention was focused straight on Amy. No one in the bar could have doubted that she was his love. The applause was loud when he finished.
“I suppose you want me to do that,” Brian said to Caitlin as Cal returned to the table. “I can if you really want me to.”
This I would pay money to see. My twin was about the last guy to sing karaoke willingly. Not that he had a bad voice, but he couldn’t stand the attention and he didn’t like to do anything that might reflect poorly on his position as sheriff.
“Not necessary,” Caitlin said with a grin. “I know how much you’d hate that. But if you’re into gestures to prove your love, you could let me tattoo something on you. Maybe something on the other ass-cheek? Hate to see that one be bare.”
I had to swallow quickly to keep from spitting out my beer. My brother, the sheriff, had a tattoo on his ass? I looked at Brian, whose ears were turning pink with embarrassment.
“You’ve got an ass tattoo?” I asked. “When the hell did that happen?”
“While back,” Brian admitted.
“What is it?” Cal wanted to know.
Brian smiled at Caitlin before answering. “That’s personal.”
I glanced at Julia who was watching the interplay between the others.
She seemed amused by it all. I caught her eye.
“I’m not getting a tattoo for you, but I can sing you a song.
” I headed for the stage, knowing what number I wanted.
It took just a minute to queue up. The words showed on the prompter, but I didn’t need them.
I knew the lyrics by heart and began to sing a country love song by Kenny Chesney that I’d long admired.
It wasn’t my usual choice for karaoke. On other nights, I’d gone for something upbeat or a song that got laughs. But with Julia watching, I wasn’t in the mood for anything lighthearted. I was feeling serious and the sincere, unguarded song expressed that better than my words could.
I found Julia and kept my eyes on her as I sang, really feeling the lyrics and how they related to her. It was almost a shock to realize how much the song expressed what I felt for her.
Her gaze was on me, and I was hopeful that she felt the same thing.
Maybe I’d get my happy family after all.
A surge of optimism went through me as I finished the song.
I walked off the stage to thunderous applause, headed straight for Julia.
When I reached her, I didn’t hesitate. I pulled her to her feet, wrapped my arms around her, and kissed her much to everyone’s enjoyment.
“Did you like it?” I whispered to her, my hands cupping her face.
She nodded but didn’t speak. I saw a tear in the corner of her eye and took that as a good sign.
We had some things to work out as a couple, but our relationship had taken another leap forward.
I sat next to her throughout the evening, feeling closer to her than I had in days. This was good, this was what I wanted.
Our relationship wasn’t fixed, and I wouldn’t push it.
I could wait, at least a little while, to get everything else.
So despite the closeness I felt between us, I dropped her off at her ranch and went home.
It had been hard pulling myself away with only a good-night kiss, but worth it to make sure we stayed on the right track, and that we held our relationship together instead of letting it splinter apart.