Chapter 70
Barry was sure Bess felt this, so she would often retire early to her…Cookie’s former room.
Bess’s presence had had one important benefit, however. Jimmy and Jake had agreed instantly to Barry’s request for sex in the hay loft. It had been passionate, loud, raunchy…and itchy.
* * * *
It was the day before Thanksgiving and Barry and Bess were elbow-deep in preparations. Barry had confessed to a certain amount of nervousness. This would be the first major US holiday he’d be spending at the ranch. He’d been alone during previous Thanksgivings—Robert spending the day with his family.
Bess had offered some suggestions as to what they should make. Barry thought maybe two each of pecan, pumpkin, and apple pies was too much.
“Probably won’t all get eaten on the day, but they will keep. Save you having to cook for the next few days.”
Barry said that although he’d made pies for the men a number of times, his crusts were never quite as good as he would like. Bess suggested freezing the shortening and grating it into the flour. Barry tried it and was delighted by the results.
“What do you flavor your apple pies with?” Barry asked Bess as she transferred sliced apples to a saucepan. He noted with satisfaction she was unconsciously using her right arm more.
Bess shrugged. “Maybe a bit of cinnamon, Frank doesn’t like…” She fell silent.
Barry wiped his hands and reached over to give Bess’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s be devils and put some jalape?os in.”
He hoped the off-the-wall suggestion would help distract Bess from thinking about her estranged husband, who hadn’t once been to see how she was getting on. Bess had called and left messages a couple of times but to Barry’s knowledge Frank had never returned the calls.
Most people had a spice rack…Barry had a spice cupboard. He reached into it and got out a jar of ground jalapeno powder. “It’ll give the men a bit of a jolt.” Not that I plan on going overboard Barry thought, reaching for the bowl of fresh jalapenos on the counter.
Bess laughed. It wasn’t something she did often. Barry could understand why. She was still suffering from the effects of the stroke, she’d been uprooted from all she knew, and Frank…The less Barry thought about that man the better.
“I like your idea of chocolate and maple in the pecan pie.”
“Yes. My mom used to make it every Thanksgiving. But Frank, he…”
“It’s okay,” Barry assured her.
“Thank you. Yes, chocolate and maple syr…Oh dear,” Bess put a hand to her cheek. “I forgot to get maple flavoring at the store yesterday.”
Barry reached into a cupboard and pulled out a quart jug of the real thing.
“Oh my. You are well stocked.”
Barry smiled. He had to be with cooking for five hungry cowboys, each of whom had a sweet tooth. And lately there’d been one, two, and sometimes three additional people around the dinner table. First Dennis came to see his mother. Then Gary started accompanying his brother. Their visits more often than not coincided with mealtimes. Of course, Barry had to feed them. Lately, Zane, the Wilson ranch’s sole hand, also came knocking on the door.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Barry began. “It’s quite likely there’ll be ten people around the table tomorrow, and—”
“Oh dear. I’ll tell Dennis and Gary not to come around so—”
Barry’s hand went back to Bess’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Honestly. I love cooking for an appreciative audience. Gary, Dennis, and especially Zane certainly know how to clean their plates.”
Barry had been surprised Jake had been so welcoming of the Wilson brothers, but guessed his main beef was with Frank.
“Yes, they always have had a healthy appetite. But then Frank could never abide waste. He says…” She ground to a halt.
“You can talk about him,” Barry encouraged. “I know you still miss him.”
Bess sniffed. “We’ve been married for over forty years.”
Barry nodded.
“He wasn’t always this…” She struggled for the right word.
Barry could think of several, but chose to stay silent.
“…this angry with the world.”
Before he could stop himself, he said, “His anger put Jimmy in hospital.”
Bess seemed to shrink in on herself and Barry wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“I know,” Bess said softly, turning away. “And you must think I’m a terrible mother for just standing by.”
Barry didn’t know how to answer that. He genuinely liked Bess, she seemed like a good, kind person. She definitely deserved someone better than Frank.
“I let him, Frank I mean, know how much I hated what he’d done. Even made him sleep on the sofa for a while.” She shook her head. “That sounds so weak just saying it out loud like that. I know Frank was sorry.”
“Oh?” That was all Barry would allow himself to say.
“I didn’t know about it until after the event. But I should have walked out on Frank, should have got the authorities involved, should have…” She sighed. “But I was weak. Didn’t have anywhere else to go. And I’d made a promise before God when I married Frank. Love, honor, and obey.”
Barry tried to find something positive to say but couldn’t.