How to Rope a Real Man Page 5

  Could their differing religions be the reason for the dark flash of inner turmoil she sometimes saw cross his face? Maybe that was the reason he wouldn’t ask her out or kiss her. It was so tempting to scold herself for making things unnecessarily complicated again, but what if religion was a deal breaker for him?

  She was still mulling over the possibility when he cracked the knuckle of his middle finger and said, “I have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you. And I bet you’ve been asked it a hundred times.”

  Boy howdy, had she ever. She’d been asked it enough that she could hear the question coming by the timbre of a person’s voice. People all sounded the same when they broached the topic—tentative, with each word a slow labor of speech. Men sometimes smiled nervously. Women leaned in, their expressions solemn, as if they were Jenna’s confidantes.

  As far as transitions went, this one was about as smooth as a dirt road after a rainstorm, but rather than press him about their religious differences, she decided to follow his train of thought around the mental U-turn. “You want to ask me about Tommy’s father.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  She grinned and offered a shrug to show him she didn’t mind. “He’s not in the picture at all. Never has been, never will be.”

  Matt’s breath gushed out in a whoosh and his torso folded in as though he would’ve doubled over if not for the support of the steering wheel. “What an idiot. I can’t understand men like that.”

  One of Jenna’s greatest sins was letting people believe Tommy’s father wasn’t around because he was a deadbeat. The truth was, the reason Tommy’s father wasn’t fulfilling his fatherly duties was because she’d never told him she was pregnant with his child. And unless she were to divulge the whole story of why she’d made that choice—which she’d never do because lives and livelihoods were at stake—then she came across as a borderline criminal, keeping a little boy and his daddy apart for no good reason.

  “How’s Tommy coping with that?”

  She loved that Matt thought about her son’s happiness. Most men she dated were only concerned with whether or not they’d have to fight off a jealous ex-boyfriend. “Tommy doesn’t know any better. When he asks about his daddy, I tell him he’s one of a kind because he doesn’t have one, but that he’s a lucky boy because he’s got a mommy, two devoted aunties, and two soon-to-be uncles who love him dearly and look out for him.”

  “What about you? How are you coping with it? It’s none of my business, but does the creep at least pay child support?”

  Child support would’ve been nice. The money might have helped her cut down on her waitressing hours and given her more time with Tommy when he was little. “Tommy and I have managed all right. Rachel’s helped a lot and now we’ve got the oil money coming in regularly.” She touched his arm because gratitude was a good excuse to get her hand on him. “Thank you for being concerned about us.”

  He eased his arm away from her. “You almost told me something earlier but stopped yourself. You said you were juggling being a waitress and mom and something else.”

  It took her a lot of blinks to catch up with his second directional shift in as many minutes. And this time, she didn’t like where they were headed. Not at all. “I was hoping you missed that.”

  He pointed at himself. “Hello, lawyer here. I was trained to deal in details.”

  Her first instinct was to follow his lead by changing the subject. Then she thought about what a ridiculous conversational dance they were doing, twisting around every sensitive topic. How did she ever expect him to open up to her if she refused to do the same?

  Besides, everyone was going to find out sooner or later. Confessing to him would be great practice for telling her sisters, and she had a feeling Matt would keep her confidences.

  She scooted sideways in her seat, her heart pounding with a sudden burst of adrenaline. “I’ll tell you something about me I’ve never told anyone, but it can’t get around. Not even to my family.”

  Chapter Four

  Déjà vu smacked Jenna hard.

  She ground her teeth together, fighting panic. Holy shit. Whatever made her phrase it like that, it must’ve come from deep down in her psyche.

  I’ll tell you something about me I’ve never told anyone, but it can’t get out. Not even to my family. Those had been Carson Parrish’s exact words. Followed by the secret that had changed everything for both of them. Not that the secret itself was to blame, but it had been the tipping of the first domino.

  Matt set a hand on her knee. “My lips are sealed.”

  It wasn’t like this secret was dangerous—not like Carson’s had been. But still, what Jenna had been hiding from her sisters for four years would complicate everyone’s lives all over again. It would be as if someone had reengineered the dominos she and Carson had tipped that fateful night and she was going to start a whole new chain reaction.

  “For the past four years, I’ve been going to college and I’m graduating next month,” she blurted before she could overthink it to death. She sucked in a breath and studied his reaction.

  His brows squeezed together and he hit the brakes, maneuvering his truck onto a turnout on the shoulder of the road. Jenna tensed, feeling confused and defensive.

  He unbuckled his seat belt and twisted, hitching a knee on the seat. Then he looked her square in the face with a huge smile. In the glow of the car’s instrument panel, she could just make out her favorite dimple. “I was trying to guess what you were going to say, but it sure wasn’t anything that cool. Where? When? Let’s hear some details.”

  His enthusiasm was irresistible. Her body instantly relaxed with relief. “The University of New Mexico has a correspondence program. For the most part, my classes have been online except for midterms and finals. Once a week, I have a computer lab on the UNM campus in Albuquerque.”

  “You’re getting a degree in something computer-related? That’s perfect for you. Let me think . . . graphic design?”

  Graphic design was a great guess. After she, Amy, and Rachel had transformed their farm into an inn and restaurant, Matt had asked for a referral to their website designer to help him create one for the legal clinic he was thinking of opening. Jenna would never forget the bold admiration on Matt’s face when he’d discovered it to be her. That had been a moment of clarity for Jenna, outside proof that she had marketable skills to go along with her passion for computer programming.

  “Close. Computer engineering.”

  He whistled, clearly impressed.

  “Why did you stop the car?”

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “News this extraordinary deserved my full attention.”

  Well, that was something. She’d been bending over backward for eight months trying to get his full attention. If she’d had any idea that her secret life as a college student would do the trick, she might’ve taken him into her confidences months ago.

  He rubbed his chin. “Let me get this straight. When you were twenty, you had a one-year-old son, a job as a waitress, a sick mom, and a farm to take care of—and you signed up for college on top of all that? And you’re graduating after only four years, even though you chose not to seek any support from your family or friends?”

  “Yes,” she answered breathlessly. What was he getting at?

  His eyes glittered with genuine admiration. “You’re a badass, Jenna. You know that, right?”

  “I . . .” She didn’t feel like a badass. She felt desperate to build a better life for her and Tommy somewhere away from Catcher Creek. But Matt’s praise felt good. Jenna wasn’t sure anyone had ever admired how hard she worked and how many hats she wore. “Thank you.”

  “Does UNM hold a ceremony for people who graduate in summer?”

  “A small one, along with an invitation to walk in the campus-wide one after the fall semester.”

  “Are you going to attend them?”

  She considered demurring, then decided against it. “Yes, I am. I think I’ve earned that.” />
  “Absolutely.”

  She gestured out the windshield. “We’d better keep moving. I don’t want your sister waiting too long for us.”

  He nodded, reclipped his seat belt, and eased back onto the highway. “This doesn’t sound like it should be a secret, but something you should be shouting from the rooftops. Your sisters would be proud of you. Why haven’t you told them?”

  No wonder he was such a great lawyer. Always bringing the topic back to the main point, not letting anything slip past his radar. “Because it means I’m leaving the farm. I have a job lined up working for the state as a software developer in their Santa Fe office. It’s not my dream job, but it’s another step in the right direction.”

  His eyebrows flickered up. “When is that happening?”

  “September first.”

  “Wow.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Amy’s wedding, it’s a thank-you for her help in saving the farm, but it’s also a parting gift to your sisters, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She hugged herself. Guilt gnawed at her every time she thought about breaking the news to Rachel and Amy, even though she knew full well that leaving was her only logical choice.

  “I still don’t understand why you’ve kept your schooling a secret all these years. How could they be upset with you for going after your dream?”

  She picked at her fingernails. “It’s not Amy I’m worried about. If anybody will understand, it’ll be her because she left town to pursue her dream of being a chef the same week she graduated high school.”

  “Rachel . . .”

  Helping Matt understand meant sharing with him the unflattering details about her past. Not exactly the stuff a lady should be talking about with a man she was interested in romantically, but it was too late to start pulling her punches now.

  “I might owe Amy for saving our farm, but it’s Rachel to whom I owe everything else. For the longest time, it was Rachel and me against the world. Our mom was bipolar and iffy about taking her meds, and our dad was good for nothing all the way around. When Amy skipped town, I was twelve and green with jealousy. Before she left, it’d never occurred to me that someone could pick up and walk away from Catcher Creek. After she opened my eyes to the idea, not a day went by that I didn’t dream about escaping.”

  She knew he understood the general flavor of her family history already, having renegotiated their oil rights contract the year before in the wake of her parents’ deaths, but the two of them had never had a serious, private conversation like this. They’d never talked specifically about her life and her dreams.

  When she paused, his focus shifted briefly from the road to regard her. “Did you ever go through with it—running away?”

  “No. I was too chicken. And lazy. Running away would’ve meant getting a job to support myself, and why bother with that when I had a free ride courtesy of Rachel?”

  “Ouch. Hard on yourself much?”

  Ouch was right. It wasn’t a pretty picture. Real life rarely was. “Just telling it like it is. I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not, especially to you. And glossing over my trip to rock bottom would be a disservice to Rachel. She’s nine years older than me and handled all my raising up, which was no easy task because by the time I started high school, I was already wild.”

  “Miss Soon-to-Be College Graduate, wild? I don’t see it.”

  She laughed, although it wasn’t at all funny. Wild didn’t begin to describe her teenage years. “It was only by the grace of God and Rachel that I didn’t end up dead or in jail. Since the day I was born, she worked her fingers to the bone on our farm to make sure I had a roof over my head and food in my belly. She’s the reason I didn’t drop out of high school. She made me do my homework, got me out of bed so I wouldn’t be late for school. And I repaid her efforts too many times by getting brought home in a patrol car, drunk or high.”

  “Drugs even?”

  She was determined to own the choices she’d made, even the ones she was the least proud of. “Pot mostly. But sometimes harder stuff.” And, boy, her knees had been chafed from praying that Tommy wouldn’t be born with problems because of it. She’d given it all up cold-turkey the day she’d found out she was pregnant, but there’d been a couple times in those weeks before she’d known . . .

  Even now, it dropped a rock in her stomach to think about it. His first year, she’d anticipated every one of Tommy’s doctor appointments with vomit-inducing anxiety. But he’d been smart and healthy and happy since the day he’d greeted the world.

  “And then, fresh out of high school, I got pregnant. When I dropped that bomb on her, she told me everything was going to be okay, and it was.” Even now, six years later, the emotion of that day, that conversation, crashed through her, potent and painful. She teased the cuticle of her thumb, fighting the welling of love and melancholy. “She won’t understand why I have to leave.”

  Matt was silent for a beat. Then, “Why do you have to leave?”

  That was one secret she wasn’t prepared to divulge—not even to Matt. She’d tell Rachel. While Amy and Kellan were on their honeymoon, she’d sit Rachel down and explain every last sordid detail of the disaster that had brought about Jenna and Tommy’s need to move from Catcher Creek as soon as humanly possible.

  Before Carson brought about the reckoning he’d threatened when he’d left.

  But she wouldn’t tell Matt or Amy or anyone else. The fewer people who knew, the safer she and Tommy were, and in the end, that was all that mattered.

  Time to throw one of Matt’s verbal U-turns back at him. “You mentioned at the saloon that most of your relatives live in the Santa Fe area. How many generations does your family go back in New Mexico?”

  The quirk of his lips told her he knew exactly what she’d done. The question was, would he play along? He tapped the top of the gear shifter. It had to be killing the lawyer in him not to press her back to his topic of choice.

  Finally, he nodded in acquiescence. “My great-great-grandfather on my dad’s side moved his family from Maryland and settled in the mountains outside of Santa Fe right before the Civil War broke out. He wanted everyone out of the line of fire without leaving the country altogether. I know that seems unpatriotic, like why didn’t he support the North and fight? But honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do in his position. Self-protection or sacrifice. It’s a complicated choice.”

  Not for Jenna. She admired that kind of circling the wagons. Protecting family was her number-one mantra in life too. “I like the way your great-great-grandfather thought.”

  “When my grandpa was alive, he used to tell stories about the pioneer days, as he called them. Stories passed down from his father. I loved hearing about how the Roenicks and the other families who made the trip with them transformed from mercantile factory workers into bona fide cowboys and cowgirls. They built ranches from the dust up and eventually a synagogue.”

  Pride colored his words. And how could it not, with such a rich family history? “My family still lives on the same property my great-great-grandfather staked more than a hundred and fifty years ago and worships in a new synagogue built on the original location. There’s a lot to be said about growing where you’re planted.”

  Envy tugged at her heart. She’d grown where she was planted, yet her experience had been far different. Maybe because Catcher Creek’s population had never exploded like Santa Fe’s, but small-town life had smothered Jenna since she was old enough to notice that every single person she came across knew her name, her family history, and everything else about her—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

  As she’d aged, she’d started noticing the ugly in other people too. The crime and the small-minded ignorance. The way people turned a blind eye to her mom’s depression and her dad’s gambling. Everyone stood aside and watched her family sink. And then after what happened to Carson . . . well, after that, there was no beauty left in Catcher Creek at all that Jenna could see.

  She cleared the lump from her th
roat. “I had no idea the Jewish community had such deep roots to Santa Fe. That’s incredible.”

  He scowled. “Sorry. You just told me you and Tommy were moving and then I put my foot in my mouth. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty for wanting to leave your hometown.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll always have roots and family in Catcher Creek. And I’m excited about starting my career. Nothing to feel guilty about.”

  That was the God’s honest truth. Except that she couldn’t shake off the regret. Even with a future as bright as hers was looking, the unfinished business of her past wouldn’t lie down and die.

  Two hours and a pit stop later, the Rocky Mountains began. The road snaked a path through the rising elevation. Santa Fe unfolded from the darkness one light at a time until the string of homesteads lining the road gave way to a bustling city. Unlike Catcher Creek, which rolled up the welcome mats early, even on Friday nights, Santa Fe was alive with activity and cars.

  It was nearing midnight when they stopped for coffee at a convenience store. Jenna poured from the pots that were the fullest with the hope that they were also the freshest while Matt walked the aisles with a basket, dropping in snacks. Loaded with goodies, they drove the remaining few blocks to Tara’s flower shop.

  Carpe Diem Flowers sat in the parking lot of a supermarket and shared a flat, Southwest-style roof with a dry cleaner and sandwich shop. Behind the glass walls of the shop, all the lights were on. The doorway and aisles were crammed with plant stands and signs that looked like they belonged outside during operating hours.

  Matt parked his SUV out front. He met Jenna on her side and took the tray of coffee cups from her. A pretty thirty-something woman with a slick, black pageboy haircut and a one-sleeved green shirt looked up from a spread of flowers on the counter. She gave a wave as she trotted toward the door to unlock it.

  She shared Matt’s rich brown eyes and was blessed with a willowy figure that was soft around the edges in a way that looked carefree and happy. Up close, it became clear to Jenna that the one-sleeved shirt was actually an emerald-green tank top and an elaborate hummingbird-and-flower tattoo cascading down her left arm. Bold. And totally forbidden by Jewish laws, Jenna recalled reading somewhere. It seemed as though Tara took a carpe diem approach to life as well as her flower shop. Jenna admired that.