“Jake, what are you doing?” I was trying to remain calm but he was making an absolute mess and I wasn’t sure if that was intentional.
“Helping,” he said through gritted teeth. He was pushing the roller too hard and it was leaving thick, ugly swipes of paint on the walls.
I finally had enough and put my hand on his arm to stop him. I took the roller away and set it down. “No, you’re messing it up.”
He threw his arms up in the air. “Fine, you tell me what you want me to do.”
I took another deep breath and let it out. “What I want is to finish painting the nursery on my own and for you to go home and have a beer or do whatever you need to do so you’re not snarling at me.”
“I’m not snarling!”
With that, I abruptly decided that I’d had enough. “Choose a different adjective then, but do it somewhere else.”
I turned the radio back on—just not as loud—and tightened the mask on my face. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, I wiped off the excess paint he’d slapped on as best as I could and cleaned up the paint spills. I didn’t hear Jake leave the room, but I heard my backdoor slam, then his truck door, followed by the sound of the wheels spinning when he drove off.
I sagged against the unpainted wall. “Well, that could’ve gone better,” I said to the empty room.
“So much for finding some sort of equilibrium.” I picked up the roller. My heart wasn’t in it anymore, but I was determined to finish it anyway. When a Kenny Chesney song came on, I switched to a different station. The upbeat music had me tapping my toes soon enough and I was able to finish the final wall. Looking around, I decided I was happy with the results. I’d see how it looked in the morning, but I suspected I’d need to do a second coat. Still, it was a good day’s work.
After cleaning up, I checked on all the animals one last time and then showered and got ready for bed. Jake was on my mind the entire time. I kept replaying our interactions trying to figure out how we could’ve avoided it all, but even after replaying it a dozen times, I still wasn’t sure. The way things currently stood, I didn’t see a way forward for us. Not if everything I did went against his grand plan that he’d yet to discuss with me.
What I could do was keep moving forward. Whatever relationship Jake and I ended up having, this baby was stillcoming and I was determined that at the very least, he or she would have a beautiful nursery to sleep in.
THIRTY-ONE
JAKE
Afew days later, I stood with my hands on my hips watching one of my ranch hands exercising two colts. I wished I was pleased with what I was seeing, but the colts wouldn’t make anything more than decent rodeo horses or show horses. They could be ridden, but they were a long way from special.
“Hey.” Brian came up next to me and leaned on the corral fence to watch the horses. The family was all gathered on the ranch for a meal that our mom had set up. “Pretty pair.”
“Looks are about all they’ve got going for them,” I said. The colts were bays, but not matched well enough to sell as carriage horses.
“They…” Brian began. “I got nothing.”
“Even you can’t put a positive spin on their future. I’m thinking about checking with Josh Cafferty about buying them for his trail riding program,” I said, knowing my annoyance was obvious. “They’re not suitable for what I breed horses for.”
“How are your plans to make improvements going?”
“Slowly,” I said. I’d made a deal of sorts with Julia for Twister, but it wasn’t what I wanted. “I did get an email today about a stallion for sale. He’s not as good as Twister, but better than what I’ve got. Belongs to one of Dad’s old buddies down in the panhandle. The stallion fits with what Dad and Luke would have purchased. I’m tempted, but I’m stalling.” Partly because I was second guessing some of Luke’s plans, which six months ago, I never would’ve done.
“What for?” Brian asked.
“I’m waiting to see how things work out with Julia.” I was being dogged, stubborn, but I just couldn’t let it go.
“Seemed like the two of you were good when we were at the Squeaky Wheel. Something change?”
“Nothing’s changed,” I bit out. “That’s the problem. I thought I was making progress, but then I went over to her place the next evening and she was painting the damn nursery. I want her and the baby to live here. She doesn’t need a nursery at her house.”
“And you said that?”
“Yeah, but since she refused to back down and I didn’t want her to do all the work herself, I grabbed the roller to help her. You know what she did? She told me to leave and that she needed to paint the room herself. What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, but Brian held his hands up in an I-don’t-know gesture.
“She’s stopped calling me, too, when she wants something. I’ve made a few late-night food runs for her when cravings hit over the past couple of weeks. Nothing lately.” I should be happy for the extra time, but what I felt was frustration. I enjoyed helping her out. It felt right to do so.
“You’ll get more sleep.” Brian, of course, would look at the positive. A quality that I usually admired in my brother. Right then, it made me want to punch him. I didn’t need optimism, I needed a solution.
“Yeah, I know, and I’ve got more time to focus on the ranch, but it feels like she’s pulling away. Hell, I’m surprised she agreed to come to dinner tonight,” I said. “I’m trying to do whatever I can to show her that I’m in this for the long run, but it’s starting to feel hopeless. Nothing I do seems to make any difference.” I’d felt so good that night at the bar, but it was all lost now.
