Knotted Roots - Part 3

“Jasper…” I could hear my father faintly calling me as I heard the screen door slam shut. “Coming, Pa.” Letting him know I heard him. Kicking off my dusty boots by the door, I made my way upstairs to my father's bedroom, where he was lying in bed. His face is the perfect expression of exhaustion. “Pa, you’re up late. Everything okay?” “Jasper, how’s the fence?” “All finished, Pa. Couldn’t come home til I saw it through,” I said, smirking, something I raised to pride myself in was completing a project, and when you got so close to the finish line, we just saddled up and saw it through. Hard work was like a genetic trait passed down for generations in my family. Hearing the fence was completed caused Pa to smile, a brief moment of warmth in his eyes. “I’m proud of you, son…” Pa choked out as his coughing spells began. I quickly poured him a glass of water from his bedside. I learned to keep a pitcher ready for moments like this. Pa took the glass and sipped it with relief. Placing the glass on his bedside table, he motioned for me to sit in the nearby chair. “Sit my boy, tell me all about her.” I was caught off guard, “About who, Pa?” “Oh, don’t play shy with me, boy. I know a heartbreak when I see it.” Was it that obvious? Releasing a heavy sigh, I pulled the small wooden chair over to my father’s bedside. “Well, I wouldn’t say heartbreak.” I began with a smirk, my eyes fixated on a candle burning slowly next to the pitcher of water. “It’s just, I have a few regrets for leaving…” “Oh, come now. You needn’t dwell on what’s passed you. It’s how you move forward. So, who is she?” Pa always had a way of settling storms in your chest with his words of wisdom. I found that I couldn’t help but smile just thinking of her, “It’s Grace.” “Grace?” His eyes looked as if he was searching for a log to place her. After a brief moment, Pa’s eyes lit up with such excitement and almost sparkled at the thought. “Grace Withers…such a fine young woman.” I felt like my cheeks flushed for a moment, I tried to shake it away with a brief chuckle as I found peace knowing my Pa was approving of her. “Yeah, she’s a little spitfire, ain’t she?” Pa and I shared a knowing laugh, “Marry her, Jasper…she’s good for you.” Marry her? Now that’s a thought. I never saw myself as marriage material. I marry myself to manual labor, this ranch, that’s what I’m bound to. “Slow down there cowboy…” I tapped Pa’s hand with mine. “Besides, it’s too late anyway, she’s with some pretty boy.” “Pretty boy?” Pa repeated my words, as if confused. My head swooped low for a moment, again trying to shutter my emotions from my all-wise father. “Well, back in my day…” “Oh no, I’m not about to challenge this poor fool to a Western Shoot Out Pa!” I cackled, knowing my father was going to say some witty, outlandish statement to deter my stormy heart. “Come now, you’re no fun!” I enjoyed seeing my father still have his wits about him. I fear that he’s nearing his end here, but I cling to these moments, the candid talks, the lifelong lessons, and the generations of tradition he’s taught me. Please God, spare him some time, perhaps to let him see me married, to see me happy before he passes. He deserves that at least, right? “You know Jasper…” My father began, “Remember this my dear boy. There never was a horse that couldn’t be rode; never was a cowboy that couldn’t be thrown.” He smirked as he patted my hand as if reassuring me. “Thank you for those…wise words, Pa.” I chuckled, standing from the chair. “Goodnight, Jasper.” “Goodnight, Pa.” After resetting the chair where it was, I blew out the candle and made my way to my room as I quietly shut the door behind me. Was my father challenging me to win Grace’s heart? My father’s words echoed in my head as I shed off my soggy jeans and made my way to the shower. The water heat was never reliable, and so the brisk, cold water helped me to clear my thoughts. Afterwards, I wrapped a towel around my waist. Making my way from the bathroom and across the hall to my room, I found myself desperate for sleep. My internal alarm always woke me up just before sunrise, when the sky was a beautiful dull blue, and stars were fading from view. I took a morning shower, warm water relaxing my aching muscles, a wonderful surprise from the water heater. As I loosely slung a towel around me, my stomach rumbled with the sound of thunder. Pa’s probably going to be hungry soon anyway, might as well make breakfast. With a match, I got the burner lit and placed a skillet of eggs over the flame. Bacon grease popping in the oven and like a cowboy’s cologne saturated the air. I could hear my father getting up as the wooden floor creaked above me and his footsteps slow as he descended the staircase. “Easy there Pa.” I stated as I fixed his plate and poured a glass of fresh orange juice. “Well, I was going to sleep in until the aroma of bacon came wafting upstairs!” “Sorry to wake you Pa, but you should’ve heard the thunder brewing in this belly.” I tapped my stomach, still air drying from the shower. “So, have you spoken to Grace yet?” “Pa…It’s not even sunrise yet.” An anxious laugh escaped me. “Well, you haven’t gotten dressed so I figured you went on a ride last night.” Pa teased as I was still covered by my towel. “No Pa, you raised me better than that.” Pa smirked, “I raised you to be a man, Jasper, not a pushover.” Pa’s words stung a bit, but I brushed them off. I get the sense that he wanted me to pursue Grace, regardless of this Greg guy who is swooning over her. “Cowboys never shy from competition, Jasper. You know that.” Pa stated plainly as he finished his breakfast, sipping the rest of his orange juice. Rising to clean the table, “Leave the dishes, Jasper, I can still do some chores around here.” Pa stated his nose in a newspaper. “Sure thing Pa.” With the cool morning weather slipping away, I got dressed, slipped on my dusty old boots and flipped my cowboy hat on, tucking my work gloves in my back pocket. I think I’ll check on the barn today, make sure Crimson our stallion, has feed and a clean stall. Then perhaps check on the cattle roaming around. Breathing in the morning summer dew that clung to the ground. Crimson was eager to run, we felt it necessary to leave access between his stall and the pasture so he could come and go as he pleased. Crimson neighed as if saying good morning, and hooked his long nose behind my neck as if a brotherly hug. My neck was tickled by his whiskers. “Good morning to you too, Crimson. How’s about a sugar cube to start your day?” I teased, as I presented the treat in my palm. Crimson was a red colored Arabian Stallion, all muscle, and fast as lightning. Crimson was a gift from my father. I broke him in after he won him in an auction. My high school years were spent bonding with Crimson, it was like he trusted me, always had my back, and loved to ride fast. The thrill was all too appealing to a young cowboy, “Let’s see if you still have that young heart Crimson. What do you say to a ride?” Crimson excited, pranced around with excitement. Crimson and I both hated saddles, just never was comfortable. After meeting Crimson outside of the barn near his stall, I grabbed a tuft of his mane, hoisting myself on his back. Rubbing and patting Crimson’s side, I found peace of mind, thoughtless, nothing but me and him. Rounding into the open acreage, hugging Crimson tightly with my legs, I gave the clicking command and without hesitation, Crimson went full sprint. I braced myself, pressing my hat down so as not to lose it. With a joyous yelp, I breathed in the wildflowers in the open meadow. And for a moment, I felt free, as if releasing any ounce of regret from my past, it merely slipped off, left behind somewhere. As Crimson began to slow down near the edge of our property, I was able to catch my breath as well. “What a ride Crimson.” I gasped, patting his sweaty neck. “Yaw!” I heard Grace’s voice echo from the hill hiding her family’s ranch from ours. “Right on time.” I breathed, Crimson neighing as if amused. “Mornin' cowboy!” Grace hollered as she rode Spot near the fence line dividing our properties. “And to what do I owe the pleasure ma’am?” I laughed. “I thought I heard the mustangs again, but I shoulda’ known it’d be you and Crimson running amuck out here!” Grace’s teasing accent was like a breath of fresh air, tipping my hat to her, “My apologies ma’am.” Grace snickered and shook her head in amusement. “You should come by tonight Jasper, I’m cooking my legendary meatloaf.” Grace’s meatloaf was legendary, and my stomach rumbled at the thought. “Please, it’d be great for you to see my parents, they haven’t stopped asking about ya.” Her thick accent and charming eyes were irresistible! “I’ll be there.” “You promise!” “You have my word.” I declared, removing my hat, and making a grand gesture with it across my chest and bowing my head as if she were royalty. “I’ll let my parents know you’re coming! Six o’clock!” She hollered as she gave Spot a gentle kick and they rode away. Her blonde hair whipped behind her as Spot gained speed. She truly does keep me on my toes. Dinner? I should let Pa know not to expect me tonight.

Returning to the barn, I gave Crimson a well deserved bath, cooling him from the wild ride this morning. Stocking his hay and feed, topping off the watering trough, and mucked his stall with fresh hay to lay in. By now it was midday, the heat was thick, and I looked as though I had been swimming in all of my clothes. Well, better get cleaned up and start prepping dinner for Pa. As the screen door slammed, Pa turned his head from the old television in the living room. “Well how was your ride?” Pa seemed overjoyed that I was breathing in the ranch life like he once had, a sense of pride to his withering heart. “It was a breath of fresh air.” I laughed, leaving my hat on the hook nearby and kicking off my dirty boots. “A breath of fresh air you say?” A mischievous grin from my father told me he knew something, “What’s the part you’re not telling me?” I looked with a sense of confusion, “Oh nothing, nothing.” My father’s plain dismissal was suspicious. I began to head upstairs when he hollered after me, “Don’t worry about dinner Jasper, there’s still some stew in the fridge.” How did he? I didn’t mention anything about missing dinner to him yet. Running downstairs, I met his mischievous and loving eyes, “You’re behind this?” I asked him, bewildered at my father’s attempts to assist in my love life, if this is even love. “I dare say, I don’t know what you’re implying.” Pa hid his face with his newspaper from this morning, and I just shook my head amused. Although he perhaps overstepped, it was endearing to see my efforts in assisting in my happiness, and if he knew anything, he knew I was always the happiest around Grace. After a much needed shower, I grabbed the straight edged razor and began shaving, when I heard my father, “You’d better hurry up Jasper, and wear something nice!” Chuckling, I made the final swipe with the blade and rinsed my bare face. Now, what am I going to wear? Most of my clothes were faded blue jeans and stained working shirts. Tugging on a black buttoned-down dress shirt, and matching black jeans and black leather dress boots, I hurried downstairs, clutching my dress hat, a black velvet cowboy hat adorning a black feather. “Don’t wait up for me Pa!” I smirked as I got the approving nod from him. With a grumbling start, I drove over to Grace’s home, a mere five minute drive. Before I could knock, Grace heard the familiar truck rumbling in the drive and rushed out to greet me with an embrace I didn’t know I missed. “You’re early!” She exclaimed, “Should I return later?” I teased, pointing at the truck, “No! I mean, you’re already here.” She seemed anxious, timid, but it was brief. “After you.” I motioned with my arm, allowing her to lead me inside. “Mom! Dad! Jasper’s here!” Grace hollered as we entered their warm brick home. “Jasper my boy!” “Mr. Withers!” He pulled me into a father-like embrace! “Oh Jasper dear! It’s so good to have you back! Your father speaks very highly of you, he’s proud of you ya’ know!” Mrs. Withers exclaimed, kissing my cheek and embraced me with her motherly love. “Thank you ma’am, it’s good to be home.” “Grace dear, why don’t I take over from here! I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on.” Mrs. Withers took the kitchen ladle from Grace’s hand and shooed her out of the kitchen. Mr. Withers glanced over, and gave an approving look for us to be dismissed. “Come on, I got to show you something!” Grace giddy, almost like an excited child. I followed her upstairs where her bedroom was. “Look! I still have it!” Have what? I asked myself, and that’s when I saw the dream catcher on her bedpost. “Must be working.” I stated, calmly. Taking in Grace for the first time since arriving, she was wearing a lace dress, her boots glittered in a complimenting color to her outfit, her hair loosely curled and draped over her shoulders. Her eyes glimmered like jewels. I didn’t notice how my body instinctively closed the distance between us, the way her chin lifted as if begging me to kiss her soft pink lips. “Forgive me.” I whispered as my face inched closer to hers, “For what?” she asked, our eyes fixated on one another, and without a word, and without a thought, I tilted my chin down to meet her, cupping her face in my hand and kissed her unapologetically. The heat creeped upwards, her hands clinging to my broad shoulders, our bodies pressing against one another, a heavy need in our eyes. “For that.” I whispered, never backing down, never breaking eye contact. “Kiss me again…” Grace’s voice was low, tempting, begging. “Jasper! Grace! Dinner’s ready!” I planted a hot and gentle kiss on her neck, “Dessert my kitten.” My breath heavy, desire in my voice. Releasing Grace from my hold, I made my way downstairs Grace following closely behind. And we joined her parents at the dinner table, exchanging memories and laughs. Yet all the while, Grace and I exchange smoldering eyes. When dinner was done, we shared a slice of warm apple pie. I offered to assist Mrs. Withers in cleaning the table who politely declined. “Well, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Withers, Grace for your hospitality.” I said at the beginning of my departure, I couldn’t bring attention to the lustful desire in my core, the neediness I had like a dog in heat. Grace knew I wasn’t leaving because of her, she knew I respected her and her parents, and I was left in awe of that little mischievous smirk I put on her face as she came to send me off with a hug, I buried my nose in her hair, whispering “You don’t need that dreamcatcher anymore, just think of me.” I left her with one final smoldering look, a mischievous smile, and a kiss on her hand as I turned towards my truck and left. Once back home, I checked on Pa who was soundly sleeping in his bed. I quietly tip toed to my room, shedding the clothes off my back when I heard the sound of feet. I sat up in my bed, still, was it an intruder? I closed my eyes, listening for anything, silence. Perhaps I’m just hearing things, it’s an old house anyways. Lying back down, the quilt barely covering me. I heard my doorknob creak open. And before I could open my eyes to see, I felt her, “Grace?” “Shh!” I was stunned, in pure disbelief. My confusion slipped away as her kisses landed one after the other. I pulled her into me. “You’re a naughty kitten.” I breathed as she continued to tickle my chest with her feathery kisses and scratching my arms with her manicured nails. “Jasper…” Her voice whimpered, “Yes?” “I…” and before another word slipped, I awoke in a panic! It was just a dream!