The Cowgirl Rides Away (Bluebonnet, TX Book 1)

CHAPTER TWELVE: Zack

Zack was late. That little interlude on Jessa's bed had really put him behind. He'd no more than picked Travis up off his parent's living room floor when his mother started yelling for him.

"Zachary Kendall Boudreaux, come in here!" Her sharp tone made him wince—and didn't leave any room for argument.

With a sigh, he set Travis back down. "Be right back, buddy."

The use of his full name combined with the suddenly smug look on his niece's face spoke volumes.

"Yes, ma'am." He was busted. Seriously busted. Somehow, his mother had found out about Jessa. He'd hoped for a day, at least, maybe two, especially after her lunchtime revelation.

He slowly crossed to the kitchen doorway, wincing again as his boots seemed to reverberate on the hardwood floor. His face felt hot and he blew out a long, heavy breath, preparing himself for the worst. These days it seemed like every interaction with his mother was 'the worst'. He pushed open the swinging door to find her standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, a scowl on her face.

"Who is she?"

Zack cringed at her loud, ugly tone, the one normally reserved for his dad—or sometimes Tim. He was indeed in a world of hurt and hated like hell that Travis and Rene could hear her. "I told you I was going to lunch."

He stepped a little closer, concerned at her wild-eyed, untidy appearance. He hadn't seen her this wound up since he'd brought Travis home.

"You failed to mention it was with a woman." Her shrill voice made him want to shove his fingers in his ears. "A strange woman!"

"The last time I checked, I was a grown man," he quietly insisted. Hopefully if he kept calm and kept his voice down, she'd follow suit.

"Don't smart-mouth me, Zachary!" Her voice dropped in volume but her fierce expression never changed.

Footsteps sounded on the back porch and his dad came barreling into the kitchen. "What's going on? Margaret? I heard you yelling halfway across the yard."

"Zack met some woman at the hotel." His mother crossed her arms, lips set in a grim line.

"It was just lunch," he calmly insisted again. She made it sound like he'd committed armed robbery. "We went to lunch. She's not a hooker. We didn't have sex."

"There. See. It was lunch." He threw up his hands, equal measures of exasperation and worry on his face. "Now why are you yelling?"

"Oh, Jerrod! Leave it to you to miss the point!" She brushed him off with a wave of her hand then turned her attention back to Zack, "Who is she? And why is she staying at the Bluebonnet Inn?"

"Have you completely turned the corner, woman? It was lunch! How the hell did you even find out he went out with a woman?" Jerrod demanded, wedging himself between them. He blocked Zack's view, temporarily giving him a chance to catch his breath.

"Dollie Lovejoy. Her oldest works at the hotel. Now everyone in town knows Zack picked up a strange woman—"

"Ah, I see. I see," Jerrod interrupted.

Zack's face burned; his grip on the counter tightened. He had little love for his mother's gossiping church crowd. Or her hang-ups. That said, he did his best to keep the peace by not feeding the gossip mill. He'd known this was unavoidable, but hadn't thought it would be quite this bad.

"Momma, please—" he began.

"Just answer the questions, young man," she ordered, shouldering past his dad. "Who is she? Where did she come from? Is she—"

"Margaret, that is enough! If that boy wants to go to lunch with a woman, it's his business."

"Fine. Let him ruin his life again. See if I care." His mother slowly shook her head, uncaring when a pin slipped free and fell to the floor. "My God, he's just like you, Jerrod. Just like you. Careless, thoughtless, selfish." In a low, angry voice she added, "Don't even think you can come cry on my shoulder like you did when that whore dumped Travis on you."

All the color drained from Zack's face and his stomach churned as he stared openmouthed at his mother, at a complete loss for words because he couldn't think of anything even remotely close to respectful to say. He didn't want his niece or especially his son to hear that, not from him. Finally, he sputtered, "I never cried on your shoulder."

"Zack," his father murmured, "Take the kids and leave." Jerrod stared down at Maggie, both of them red-faced and scowling at each other.

Jesus, what the hell had happened to his mother?

Zack quickly did as he was told, shushing his niece on the short ride to his house every time she tried to ask questions. Thirty minutes later, his dad found them all in the den watching television together. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. Rene—" Jerrod turned to his granddaughter, "—it's time for you to head on home."

"Poppy," she whined, dragging out each syllable.

"Don't argue with me, young lady." His spoke softly but gave her shoulder a little nudge.

Rene knew better than to push her granddad; she stood and quickly made her exit. The two men retreated to the kitchen, leaving Travis stretched out on the couch with a ragged, stuffed cat.

"I'm sorry she did that to you," his dad said.

"It's not your fault, so please don't apologize for her. I didn't mean to set her off. I shouldn't have been late. That's on me. I know how mom is."

"Your mother wouldn't be that way at all if it wasn't for me," Jerrod sighed.

"That's not true." Shaking his head, Zack paused at the refrigerator door, tea pitcher in hand. "You're good to Momma. Obviously something's up with her and I don't know what it is, but all that crap about Dollie and, you know, her church ladies and crap, that's Momma. She chose that. She cares about that. I try to oblige her but... Dad, nothing happened. It was just lunch, for cryin' out loud."

His dad nodded. "I know you do. We all do. And I get that it was just lunch. You hide her, it'll be worse. You understand? More fuel for the fire and all that." Jerrod shook his head, obviously ready to drop the subject. "So tell me about her. Who is she?"

Zack smiled and then grimaced a bit, his face heating up under his tan, while a part of him wondered how much to say and how his dad would react. "Jessa. Her name's Jessa and we met on the internet."

He poured them both some iced tea then sat, explaining about the personal ad but omitting the lie she'd told, a part of him feeling like he was back in high school again.

His dad set down his glass, his face marred by a confused frown. "She's willing...to move? If this all works out?"

"I know it must seem strange—" he stammered.

Jerrod held up a hand. "You have no idea, but long as everything works out, as long as you're careful and you're happy, I suppose," he added with a chuckle, "it's not that different than your great-grandmother comin' over from Ireland to marry a man she didn't know. I'll deal with your mother—somehow. You just be sure and bring your young lady to the cookout on Sunday, so I can give her my seal of approval. No hiding her."

"Do I have to?" He wasn't ready to share Jessa, and he also wasn't ready to subject her to his family, especially after what had happened earlier with his mother. How the hell did you prepare someone for that?

"Yes, you most certainly do." His dad's raised eyebrows left no room for argument.