The Bride (The Bride #1)(27)

I had no doubt he would see to Wyatt’s comfort before his own. That’s the kind of cowboy Jake was.

“You should have taken the raise I offered. You could start fixing things up sooner.”

“There will be plenty of time come May.”

I nodded. May. When this whole thing would be over and we would move on with our lives.

It was good that he was so focused on that. On the future. On his dream.

Really really good.

I had spaghetti and meatballs and he had the chili. When we got back to the house I gave him his birthday present. Fur-lined work gloves for winter. He loved them.

And red velvet cake with cream cheese icing.

It was his favorite.



*

Ellie

October



So life was rolling along. School continued to be school, boys continued to ignore me, and I tried to focus on my grades, mostly because Jake insisted, but really what was the point?

I was going to be rancher. Did I really have to know geometry?

It was so crazy to think about the things that used to upset me BDD (Before Dad Dying) and now.

BDD: When was I going to finally lose my virginity?

Now: Did I know enough to handle running a fairly large cattle ranch? Was I making a mistake even trying to do this?

BDD: Were Chrissy and Karen hanging out without me? More importantly, were they talking about me?

Now: I hoped Chrissy and Karen got to hang, because I had no time to see them. I hoped they wouldn’t forget me completely. Maybe talk about me once and a while.

BDD: Was Jake going to marry Janet?

Now: Who was Jake sleeping with?

Yeah, I’m not going to lie. Those thoughts started to creep in. I guess it happened after the trip to Missoula, because I knew why he’d gone. I knew he’d had sex with someone else. Heck, I was the one who encouraged him to do it.

I hadn’t accounted for how it was going to make me feel. I tried not to think about it.

I tried really hard.

Then, what I came to forever refer to as #penisgate, happened.



*

“Hey,” I called out when I heard the back door open.

“Damn it Ellie! The shoes.” Shoot, I had made a mental note to get them before Jake got home. Jake always griped when I left my shoes by the door because he inevitably tripped over them and Jake didn’t like tripping.

“Sorry! My mental note got lost.”

“Whatever,” Jake returned.

“How cold is it outside?”

Weather was a new thing in my life.

Again, BDD I didn’t think much of it. Certainly I knew I had to respect it. Dad had taught me that much. Winters were no joke—snowstorms could be deadly to people as well as cattle, and as a ranching family our livelihood depended on having the cattle survive each season.

So yeah, weather was something I understood. Now it was something I obsessed about. How cold could it get? What could cattle survive in and what couldn’t they? How many calves could we store in the barn, how many head could survive in the pen? When did we hook up the running line from the house to the barn and the barn to the pen? Before it started snowing, or could I wait to see how bad it got?

All of these things were new to me. Things I had always trusted my dad to take care of for me.

“Colder than a witch’s tit,” he said as he came into kitchen.

“I don’t even get that. You’re saying what? That witches have cold skin in general or is it just their tits?”

He thought about it. “Yeah, I don’t know either. It’s October. It’s cold, kiddo. What do you want me to tell you?”

I glared at him. “You know I hate kiddo. You know I hate it. Every time you say it I tell you I hate it, and you still say it.”

He smiled fiendishly. “Chill out, kiddo. It’s a term of affection.”

“It’s a term that identifies me as a child, which I’m not. One hundred and eighty-nine days, Jake.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s for dinner?”

It was my night to cook so I was standing at the kitchen island, mincing garlic. That’s right. This girl could mince garlic with the finest chefs in the land. Inseminate cows, heard cattle, mince garlic.

It was an all-around education I was getting.

“Steak and mashed potatoes.”

“Awesome. I’m going to go up and take my shower. I’ll be down in ten.”

“You have to use my shower.”

“Why?”

“I’m cleaning yours with special stuff that gets mold off the tile. You should have told me how gross it was getting in there.”

“What were you even doing in my room?”

I looked at him then. It wasn’t an accusation. Like, how dare you, what the fuck were you doing in my room, but I could hear the surprise in Jake’s voice.

We’d lived in the same house together since last January, and I had never been in his room. Because I wanted him to know he had his privacy. Because I was afraid if I walked in there it would no longer smell like my dad, and that would make me sad.

It didn’t smell like my dad. It smelled like Jake. It was a little sad.

“You said you wanted me to pick up cotton swabs. I shopped today and went to put them in your vanity. Then I saw how dark the corners of your shower were. I have this stuff that will take it off, but you have to give it twenty-four hours to sit.”