Our Chance (Los Rancheros #4) Read online

  "It's alright, Jules. I'm a farmhand right now."

  "What were you before?" Jet asks.

  "I was in the Navy for a while," he says slowly.

  All of our heads swivel to him, but Trigg is the one who asks, "What did you do in the Navy?"

  He looks at the kids then locks eyes with me before admitting just as hesitantly, "I was a SEAL, actually."

  My fork drops with a clatter and I collapse back in my chair. My eyes wander around the room before checking the kids’ expressions. Harper looks scared, Trigg looks mad, and Jet looks confused. Brody sees it too and tells Jet, "I used to go places and take care of bad guys."

  Jet's expression clears, "Oh, like my dad?"

  Brody nods and says chokingly, "Yeah, kinda."

  Jet turns to Trigg. "Isn't that cool, Trigg!? He did the same thing dad did."

  Before Trigg can answer, Harper asks Brody, "But you don't anymore, right?"

  "No, I don't, Harper," he tells her softly.

  Trigg and Harper go back to eating slowly and Jet opens his mouth, but I cut him off. "Eat, Bubba. You can talk to Brody another time, and he can tell you if he wants to."

  I take a deep breath and push my food around until everyone is done eating. They loved their grandma's King Ranch chicken casserole, and even had seconds. When they are done and take their plates to the sink, I tell them to leave them on the counter and take showers. Harper asks me, "Can we watch TV?"

  I tell her yes, then start scraping the scraps into the compost bucket before loading the dishwasher, completely ignoring Brody.

  He sets his cleared plate in the sink before leaning against the counter, facing me.

  "Jules—"

  I slam a plate down into the washer. "I can't talk about this right now."

  "I got out a few years ago," he tries again.

  I turn to him. "How could you do that? You were supposed to go to college."

  I slam the door on the dishwasher and turn away as he fires back, "So were you!"

  I shake my head as I put the glass cover back on the casserole dish and put it in the fridge. I fill up three water bottles and walk out. My hands shake as I go up the stairs. A freaking SEAL, are you kidding me? What would I have done if something had happened to him? Too, I belatedly add. I'm a terrible widow.

  I get the kids ready for bed and change the sheets on the mattresses before tucking them in. I take a bath in the clawfoot tub in the master bathroom and change into a racerback sleep shirt that has a banana on it tossing its peel that says, “I work out to look good naked.”

  After the kids are in bed, I download all of my video clips on my laptop and edit late into the night. After midnight, I go downstairs to let Angus out, finding the door already locked from when Brody left.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, I'm leaning against the counter sipping coffee, sleepy eyed, when Brody walks into my kitchen. Really, it's too early to deal with all of that hotness. I look at the kids eating their eggs, bacon, and fresh orange juice at the table. They look over at Brody as he sets two milk pails down, along with a wire basket of eggs on the counter.

  I gesture with my coffee. "Is this going to be an issue?"

  He sighs. "What?"

  "I just wanted to know if this is the regular time you come in to bring this stuff. I thought I might be dressed next time."

  He looks me over for the first time and runs his tongue over his top teeth. "Do you work out?"

  I look down at my shirt and shrug. "Nope. I just like the banana."

  Brody smirks and mutters, "Of course you do," before walking out.

  I roll my eyes at the kids and they giggle. They finish breakfast as I strain the milk and store it. I rinse the eggs in the sink then put the milk and eggs in the fridge. Slipping the kids vitamins into shot glasses, I slide them on the counter like a bar tender and they shoot them down like pros, chasing the pills with the last of their juice.

  The big kids unload/load the dishwasher while I take Jet upstairs to get dressed, then I get ready for the day. I put my hair in a low bun then slip on a straw fedora with a black stripe across it. With my makeup done, I go to the closet and get out white shorts and a black cinched strap tank top that is high up on my chest and loose until it cinches at the waist. Black sandals and white sunglasses and I'm out the door.

  I make sure Harper's hair is up in the ponytail she wants. Her hair is thick and long so I have to put in three holders to make sure it stays in all day. It goes to the middle of her back when it's on top of her head, and is so shiny. I love her hair. Trigg wants gel in his hair so he can spike it, and since he tends to be heavy handed, I make sure I do it. That causes Jet to need his done, too. After that, I do breath checks to make sure everyone has brushed and gargled. I finally get them in shoes at nine, and we're off to enroll them in school.

  I see Brody riding a tractor to the back pasture as I back up the van and force my eyes forward. He was always the one person in the world who I wanted to kill and kiss at the same time, and I know it was the same for him. Eleven years seems to have changed him, but not that much. He definitely has an edge now. Probably from the freaking SEALs. I can't even wrap my head around him being in danger for years without me knowing it.

  The school is brand new, not the falling down heap I went to. Now it's all high tech and guarded, probably because of all the celebrities in town. The receptionist is a girl I went to school with who was shy, which means I probably stuck up for her to the popular kids. I don't remember her specifically, I just know I did that a lot and she greeted me like we were best friends. Brody was always covering for me, giving me an alibi when a bully came out of the bathroom with busted lips. Good times.

  We go to Costco and get supplies for school lunches and a fast Wi-Fi router. After, we go to the Farmer's Market. I'm blown away.

  Everything is divided by aisle: milks and cheeses, wines and meads, produce, leathers and wools, meats, baked goods, candles and miscellany. We walk through the aisles slowly. I get a couple bottles of wine and the cultures I need to make all of the fermented drinks as Trigg films me.

  We get to Glenny's Alpaca Farm booth, and Brody's mom, Glen, spots me right away.

  She shrieks, "Oh my God, Juliet. Juliet! Look at these babies!" She's screaming and crying, snatching and clutching each kid before moving to the next one.

  She's drawing a huge amount of attention, so when she gets to me, I smile and give her a hug, saying, "Glen, you look amazing, but people are staring."

  She pulls away, holding me by the shoulders. She looks me over, ignoring what I said. "Oh, honey, I have missed you so much. You have no idea."

  I laugh. "I email you once a week and we talk on the phone."

  She waves that away. "It's not the same, you know that! Thank God you're home now! I thought it would be too late if you waited much longer."

  I look at her, confused. "Too late for what?"

  She looks at me incredulously. "For Brody! Last time they were at the house that Maggie girl was talking about rings and I almost had a heart attack!"

  I'm frozen and I feel like my heart stops. Maggie? Rings? I look down at the kids and see them watching me, so I say, "Trigg, Harper, Jet, this is Mrs. Denton."

  Jet asks, "Like, you're Brody's mom?"

  Glen nods her head and he asks, "So can I call you Granny Glen then? ‘Cause Brody kinda lives with us."

  She looks at me and I shake my head trying to brush that off. "Just in the garage where he's been. He just gave us a tour of the place, that's it. Speaking of that, we have a ton to do today, so I should probably go." I have to get out of here.

  "Sunday, we should do dinner. Come to the house at five." She runs off before I can tell her no, and Trigg snickers at me. I turn down the aisle and go to the next, which is the meat aisle, looking for my parents’ booth. My mom sees us and gives us much quieter hugs than a few minutes ago.

  "Glen just accosted us. She said we have to come to dinner Sunday."

 
Mom looks at me with worried eyes, "She's just a little stressed right now. You don't worry about it." She turns to the kids. "Now, how are my lovies doing today?" They keep talking as I go over to her employee in the booth and buy beef bones to make broth.

  I come back over to them planning a slumber party already. "Mom, let's get settled in. Maybe next weekend."

  She looks over at me. "Definitely next weekend! It's a plan!" She gives us all hugs again and I herd the kids towards the other aisle so I can get the rest of my list.

  When we get back to the house, I send the kids to grab their wellies they keep at the back door so they don’t lose them or track mud in the house while I put the bones in the oven to roast and search for a crock-pot. I open all of the cabinets around the island and find mixers, cake pans, loaf pans, cups, coffee mugs, but no crock-pots. Going to the cabinets next to the dining table, I pull open the first cabinet’s door and see rows of different sized crock-pots, going back in time to probably when they were invented. I open the next cabinet and there are more; another cabinet has all different stone crocks with lids for fermenting and huge glass jars. I close them all, grab the biggest crock-pot and put it on the counter, plugging it in. The kids come into the kitchen and I tell them to get glasses of water and sit at the table. There's a bowl of veggies on the table again, so I use them as their snack.

  They talk about everything and nothing as I unload the dishwasher. When the alarm goes off, I've been through every cabinet in the kitchen and know where everything is. I place the bones from the oven into the crock-pot, filling it up with water and a splash of apple cider vinegar before shooing the kids outside. I show them what weeds look like and give them all little pails to pick strawberries and set them to it while I use sheers to cut the circular scapes off of the garlic plants.

  Halfway through the row, I feel Brody, but ignore it. It's always been like that. I know where he is. If he can see me, it's like a magnetic pull. I tell myself I'm stupid for caring about a girlfriend. I was married for goodness sakes. He could have been married by now, had kids of his own. It's just when I was in school, I knew all of those girls he was with, and I knew they weren't his type. Then I was with Sebastian, and couldn't care anymore. Now what do I do? I've been back a day and we can't even be around each other.

  "You shouldn't be out here in white. You're gonna get filthy."

  I look over my shoulder, instantly annoyed. "You're not my daddy, Brody. I do my own laundry."

  He says caustically, "Oh trust me, I know what I'm not, Jules."

  I spin around and point at him with a gloved hand. "Don't go there with me, Brody. You really don't want to do that right now."

  Harper says, "Hey, Brody! Are you going to dinner at Granny Glen's house with us?"

  Brody looks over at her. "When?"

  "Sunday."

  He shrugs. "Sure."

  I huff a breath, but freeze when Harper keeps going. "Is your girlfriend gonna be there?"

  Brody cuts his eyes to me quickly before he sneers and turns back to Harper. "Yeah, she'll be there."

  I curl my lips in and bite them to keep the venom from flowing out of my throat. Okay, so I didn't try too hard to come back home, mainly because I didn't want to see Brody when I was with Sebastian. I knew he didn't want to see us together, and I didn't blame him. So why is he bringing her?

  We finish going over weeds in the garden then throw them in the compost before checking on the bunnies. As we head into the house, I tell them to wash up and get their bathing suits on. They yell and whoop, stomping up the stairs. I take the Wi-Fi router out and set it up before changing into a neon yellow bikini. After getting towels, I grab my computer and the portable boom box thing we have that hooks up to the iPhone. We head outside with the kids bouncing around and running down the grass.

  I set up the music and towel on the dock before lying down on my stomach and opening my computer as the kids splash around in the pond. I pull up my video of day one of our trip and watch it again, then post it on YouTube. I pick up my camera and take a few shots of the kids in the pool then start a blog entry of my trip.

  When I finish it up, it's been an hour since I started, so I turn off the computer and jump in with the kids, throwing them around and acting like a kid myself. We race and do handstands, goofing around for another hour before I pull them inside for a late lunch. Brody never showed up, that I know of, but the kids took a lot of my attention. They all get showers and come down, wanting to shoot a video. So I take my turn showering, put on light makeup and the same outfit I was wearing before. When I come downstairs, Trigg has the camera on the tripod and is moving it around the room, trying to get the best light, while Jet eats a sandwich at the bar. Brody is behind Harper, attempting to brush her hair as she eats.

  I head over to them with my hand out. "Uh uh."

  He holds the brush away from me. "It's been a while, but I think I remember how to braid, Jules."

  That's a double-edged sword. He used to love to brush my hair. It was waist length back then and he was always pulling my hair ties out. He would always touch it, so it would get tangled and I made him brush it out, since it was such a hassle. Directly behind that thought, I wonder if he brushes Maggie's hair. I need to stop.

  I turn and ask Trigg if he's had a sandwich. He nods, so I pull out what I need for the first video. I need to get the kombucha tea going, along with kefir, so I set those up and get out the big fermenting crocks I located earlier.

  "Jet, when I look at you, you produce. Okay?" He nods, patting his clapper.

  I pull out a dark blue teakettle and measure out the water to boil. I set up the supplies I need for the demonstrations, then I set the water kefir making supplies over next to the fridge so that they’re out of the shot.

  Brody and Harper are sitting at the table while Jet is standing off to the side of the camera. Trigg has his camera set up on one of the double oven doors on a tripod so that I can get close ups if I need them. Genius kid.

  I point to it. "I like that. Good job, Trigg." He smiles and puts his hand on my camera. I look at Jet and nod.

  He holds up his clapper as Trigg pushes the button. "Quiet on the set! Kontuchy, scene one!" He snaps the arm shut and sits down at the table.

  I try not to laugh as he butchers the name of the tea. I love that kid. Putting Brody out of my head, I look at the camera and smile, holding my arms out. "Well, we made it! This is going to be the new backdrop from now on. My granny's kitchen got a makeover a couple of years ago, so now I get to play with amazing Viking appliances. Today, we're going to make our first batch of kombucha. Now, you might be wondering 'what is that?' Well, it's a fermented tea that is so good for you. My mom always had us drinking it as a kid. It has probiotics. That means it puts good bacteria in your intestinal track that helps with constipation and candida yeast. It detoxifies the liver, boosts your metabolism, helps with arthritis, gout, asthma, kidney stones. It will give you more energy. I'm telling you, this stuff is amazing."

  I look at Jet and he jumps up and yells “Cut” as he snaps his clapper.

  I start looking for a timer, which I should have had out already. I look over at Brody as I search a drawer. He's leaning back in his chair at the kitchen table, legs spread wide, arms crossed, watching me. I look back in the drawers and find a digital timer in the next one over.

  I switch over all of the kombucha supplies with the water kefir and put more water on to boil. Taking a deep breath, I nod to Jet, and he does his thing. I run through the similar process while we wait on the tea leaves to steep for the first video. Time management is one of the things I got good at with three kids with short attention spans.

  “ . . . after that it's ready to drink."

  I look at Jet and he jumps up, snaps the clapper and yells, "Cut."

  Brody walks over to me and picks up the container. “Where do you want it?"

  I open a cabinet next to the table and point to the spot it went in before.

  "Thanks," I mumble
, watching his arms flex as he puts it on the shelf.

  As he straightens, he says, "I'm going to get some work done."

  We all watch him walk out, then I put a bright smile on my face and clap my hands as the timer goes off. "Alright! Let's do this!"

  Chapter 4

  Sunday comes too fast, and with it our dinner at the Denton's. A cold front came in, so it's a little cooler, causing me to dress in a dark red turtleneck sweater, skinny jeans, and suede boots with my hair in a French braid down over my shoulder. The boys are in khakis and button down shirts, a sweater tunic, and leggings for Harper. They look so nice.

  Even though the drive isn't long at all, I decide to take the van, not wanting the kids to have a chance to get dirty before we get there. Buzzing in at the new gate, we see all of the alpacas as we head to the house. There's black, white, red, and every color in between. They look so cute with their long necks and stout bodies. Harper is in love and immediately wants one for Christmas. Thank goodness that's a long way off. I don't think I can take on anything else right now, even with the help I'm getting.

  I pull my four year old van up to the house that used to be as familiar to me as my parents’ or Granny's house. The siding is a light blue now, but it still has the same porch swing on the front. Glen and George come out the front door and tackle the kids before we can get to the steps. George is a huge man with a barrel chest. His heritage is Spanish on his mom's side, which is where Brody gets his swarthy looks.

  Glen and Georgepush the kids into the house as I trail behind.The smells coming out of the front door are the same, too: wool and candle wax. Glen makes things with her alpaca wool and I've never been there without a candle going. It smells like home. As I pass the living room, I see the old TV has been replaced, but the couch is the same. I stare at the lumpy, old, green gingham and flash back to the sessions I had on that couch with a certain boy.

  I shake my head and head to the kitchen where the kids are asking them a million questions. I set the Black Forest cake that I brought on the counter as Glen finally breaks away from the kids to get them drinks.