Cowgirl Up and Ride (Rough Riders #3)(22)

Age was merely a number, but AJ couldn’t deny her mom was getting on in years.


Her mother looked at least a decade younger than her biological age, but AJ noticed Florence slowing down when she’d come home for visits in the last year.


Work-roughened hands reached for the mug. “Thank you. You’re the best daughter ever.”


“You’re just saying that because I don’t fight over the remote with you the way Jenn does.”


“What does she see in those blasted reality shows?”


“Beats me.” AJ smoothed the bedcovers and straightened the stack of Western Horseman magazines. “You need an extra pair of socks?”


“Stop fussing, child. Lord, you’re as bad as me. Now I understand how smothered you must’ve felt all those years.”


AJ looked up. “What years?”


“When you were growing up, but your daddy and I couldn’t help it, sugar. We were just so thrilled to have you in our life, our surprise baby, my early menopause gift. And how did we repay you? By slavin’ you during your teen years.” Her mother’s eyes teared up behind her glasses.


“Mama, you trying to make me cry?”


“No. Just feeling like an old fool. You finally get off the ranch to start your life and now you’re back here again, stuck taking care of me.”


She handed her a Kleenex. “My life didn’t ‘start’ when I went to school in Denver.


My life has always been right here. So stop feeling guilty or I’ll gorge on all the brownies to comfort myself.” AJ kissed her crinkled brow. “Stuck. As if. Glad I still have you to take care of.”


“I know. I miss your daddy every day too.”


Jenn’s minivan zipped up the driveway.


“I imagine you’ll be off now?”


“I promised Liza I’d swing by and look at a couple of wedding things.” A white lie.


Better than the truth of Cord McKay having his wicked way with her.


Her eight-year-old niece, Krista, shuffled in followed by her six-year-old nephew, Mason, and four-year-old Ariel. They plopped on the couch without a word—which was not normal.


“Guys? Why so glum?”


“Because I left Alan,” Jenn said from the doorway.


AJ glanced up. Jenn’s face resembled a puffer-fish. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.


“Why don’t you guys eat the ice cream bars I brought outside while I talk to Grandma and Aunt Amy Jo.”


The kids escaped out the porch door.


“You left Alan?”


“It’s not like he hasn’t left us first.” Jenn snagged a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “I’m tired of him being on the road all the time. Alan told me if a dispatch position opened up he’d take it. The money is better and he’d be home every night. Guess what? I found out he turned one down. Last year. He didn’t even talk to me about it.”


“I’m so sorry.”


“Me too. So is it okay if the kids and I stay here for awhile, Mama?”


“Absolutely, you know this is your home.”


“Thanks.” Jenn said to AJ, “Will you help me unload some of the stuff from the van?”


“Sure.” AJ looked at her mother. “Will you be okay for a bit?”


“I’m fine. Send in my babies with some of that ice cream. We’ll snuggle up and have some Disney therapy.”