Keeping Up With the Joneses

by AprilW

Chapter One

It was a hot summer day in Albany, New York. Jacobson Jones wiped his sweaty brow with his arm. He hated working on days like these. He had inherited the truck farm from his father years ago. "Not that the old man thought I’d make anything of it," Jacobson thought bitterly. He knew that if his older brother had made it home from the war he would have inherited the farm instead. "If Junior hadn’t kicked the bucket, Pop woulda left me zip," Jacobson thought scornfully. "And no doubt Junior woulda made twice as much money as me."

All his life, Jacobson had lived in his brother’s shadow. Jack had been his father’s pride and joy. Jack was an all-American athlete. Jack made good grades in school without even trying. Jack got all the girls. No matter how hard he tried, Jacobson could not live up to his father’s namesake.

Years ago Peggy Jones, Jacobson’s mother, had left her husband and two sons. None of them knew where she had gone, nor did they care to find out. According to Jack Sr., she was a good-for-nothing old whore. Jack Sr. doubted he was even Jacobson’s father. He had no love for the younger boy, only contempt for having to care for another man’s child.

"You’re just too sorry to be my boy," Jack Sr. would sneer. "I don’t know why I have to feed somebody else’s mistake!" Jacobson vowed to himself to never be responsible for another man’s child.

With his wife gone, Jack Sr. was free to spend all his time in the bar and not have to worry about the incessant nagging when he got home. His best friend was a fella named Jack Daniels, and they visited every night. Without fail, Jack would come home staggering drunk each evening. "Why don’t you just leave, Jonesy! You go find your real daddy and see if he owns up to such a sorry mistake!" Eventually he’d work himself into a drunken rage and followed the insults with slaps.

The nickname of Jonesy stuck. Every time Jacobson heard his father say it in that sarcastic tone, he knew it meant Jacobson wasn’t a Jones. It was Jack’s way of calling him a bastard.

After college, Jack Jr. went into the army. When the Joneses received word that he had been killed in a helicopter accident, it almost destroyed Jack Sr. He couldn’t accept that the apple of his eye had been taken away. One night after a particularly long visit with Jack Daniels, he stumbled in the room and slapped Jonesy. "Why couldn’t it have been you, you sorry piece of...." Finally Jonesy could take it no more. For the first time in his life he stood up for himself and returned the punch. Jonesy may have been smaller than Jack Sr., but he was wiry and strong. It felt good to finally pay the old man back. For the first time in his life, Jonesy felt power. That feeling didn’t last long, however. Jonesy landed a few good punches, but they only seemed to empower and enrage Jack Sr. more. Jonesy was no match for the older man, who had spent years and years laboring on the truck farm. Jack Sr. beat him until Jonesy was groggy. Then he dragged Jonesy to his bed, tied him up, and beat him until he was unconscious.

Jonesy did not mourn for his brother. Truthfully, he felt a bit of satisfaction knowing that he no longer was forced to live in another’s shadow. In fact, it was difficult not to be downright gleeful at the funeral. Part of him wanted to laugh. The crown prince was gone! Now the scroungy old beggar could get a few crumbs. Instead of celebrating at the funeral, he dutifully followed his father and comfortingly put his arm around the old man’s shoulders. He managed to look sorrowful during the eulogy, all the while choking back the bile that came in his throat when he heard all the wonderful things said about his brother. He somberly helped carry the coffin to the gravesite. He embraced a sobbing Jack Sr. as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. When all the others left the gravesite to return home, only Jonesy remained. "Good riddance, Junior!" he sneered as he spat on the grave.

Jonesy continued to endure his father’s drunken wrath. He endured the beatings, the insults, and the constant ramblings of how perfect Jack Jr. had been. He endured his father’s constant wishing that Jonesy had been killed instead of the crown prince. He endured it all for one reason. He knew eventually Jack Sr. would die. And when he did, Jonesy would be left to inherit his father’s possessions.

There was talk that his brother had a daughter out of wedlock, and Jonesy didn’t want to chance losing his inheritance to that little brat. He could take no chances in angering his father so much that he might seek out Jonesy’s niece and change his will. Jonesy was forced to bide his time and continually endure his father’s abuse. Bit by bit, his soul was being eaten away. Little by little, he was consumed by bitterness. Years and years of inferiority began destroying any goodness within.

But finally, it was over. His father died, and indeed Jacobson Jones was sole heir of his father’s goods. He worked constantly on the truck farm, determined to make it more prosperous than it had been when his father owned it. The labor was difficult and the pay was minimal. Jonesy had trouble keeping employees for he earned the reputation of being a tight, iron-fisted slave driver. The secret of Jonesy’s success had been to hire young, inexperienced men who were desperate for any kind of work. They may not stay long, but he’d work them to death while they were there. Eventually he doubled the number of trucks and opened a greenhouse to provide produce during the winter months.

Visitors were a rarity on the farm. Jonesy didn’t have many friends, and those he did have weren’t the types to make a social call on a Monday afternoon. He never invited his lady friends to his house or let them know where he lived. He couldn’t take the chance of being tracked down if he had the misfortune of siring some brat. He hated kids.

So needless to say, Jonesy was surprised when an old truck pulled into the driveway. He peered in the truck and saw a woman. "What kinda trouble am I in?" he muttered under his breath. He watched as a petite form hopped out of the driver’s side. She had hair the color of sand on a warm summer’s day. Her eyes were large and the color of robin’s eggs. She was the most beautiful woman that Jonesy had ever seen.

The woman was obviously out of her element, and she nervously smoothed her skirt as she approached Jonesy. "By any chance are you the owner of this truck farm?" Even her voice was pretty, Jonesy thought.

He nodded, wiped his sweaty hands on his overalls, and shook her hand. "Yes, ma’am. The name’s Jacobson Jones, but everyone calls me Jonesy."

"I’m Katje Frayne. I have some farm equipment that I need to sell. You once bought a piece of machinery from one of my neighbors. He told me you might be interested in what I have."

Jonesy carefully looked Katje up and down. "Exactly what kind of equipment are you talking about? And why do you want to sell it?" There was no way he was going to get ripped off by some woman, no matter how pretty she was.

Katje sighed. Her beautiful eyes watered, and she seemed to take a moment to compose herself. Jonesy couldn’t help but feel bad for this pretty lady. No matter how bad Jack Sr. had been to him, he never had struck Peggy. No matter how much she had deserved it. Jack always told his boys to treat women proper. "I’m sorry, Miss Frayne. Didn’t mean to upset you. Sometimes I can sound a bit gruffer than I mean to."

"My name is Mrs. Frayne," Katje corrected. "And you didn’t upset me. My husband died a few months ago, and sometimes I get a bit weepy over the smallest things." She pulled a tissue from her purse and began to hastily wipe her tears. "I have a large plow that is in excellent condition. Every year my husband and I raised a big garden. We got the plow a couple of years ago as an anniversary gift from my husband’s Uncle James. Win, that was my husband, kept it in perfect condition. Since he passed away, there is no way for me to keep up the mortgage by myself. I have a job as a waitress, but it’s not enough. I have to move next month, and I won’t need farming equipment at the apartment. I thought if I could sell it, it might pay a few bills. I’m so behind." She pulled another tissue from her purse and tried to keep up with the flow of tears. "I’m sorry for wasting your time," she said as she started walking away.

"Hold on!" Jonesy gently grabbed her arm. "Just because I wanted some details doesn’t mean I’m not interested in the plow. In fact, I was telling my foreman the other day that we needed to look into getting another one. We’ve been growing more crops and need some more equipment to keep up with it all. I’d be mighty interested in seeing what you got."

"That’s wonderful!" Katje exclaimed. "I live in Rochester. I know it’s over four hours away. Is that a problem?"

Jonesy rubbed the stubble on his chin, thoughtfully. "Actually, I need to be in that area on Thursday. Would it be all right to stop in that afternoon and take a look?"

"That would be fine. I know I can switch with one of the other waitresses, so I can be there." She dug a piece of paper out of her purse and hurriedly scribbled down her address and phone number. "Thank you so much, Mr. Jones."

Jonesy snickered. "Mr. Jones was my dad. Call me Jonesy."

"All right, Jonesy," Katje answered, hesitantly. "You can call me Katie. The English rendition of my name may be easier to remember than the Dutch form." Jonesy knew he would have no trouble at all remembering Katie Frayne.

 

Chapter Two

The next couple of days passed slowly. Jonesy thought about Katie Frayne constantly and that disturbed him. He had never let himself care about another human being before. His father’s abuse and his mother’s abandonment caused Jonesy to build a wall around his soul. This wall was so great, so thick, that nobody had ever been able to climb it. Now this pretty young widow found a tiny crevice inside. Not that she was trying. He wasn’t handsome like his brother had been. True, he had a dark quality that appealed to some women. He could have his pick of any of the women he knew from the bar where he hung out. They’re all right for a one night stand, but there was no way he was getting chained to one of them broads, Jonesy thought. If I ever get married... A picture of Katie in a white dress popped into his head.

It wasn’t just the fact that Katie was beautiful. There was just something about her. She had a presence of goodness about her. He knew she wasn’t like most of the floozies he knew from the bar. She seemed innocent and sweet. And she wasn’t one to flaunt her good looks. She seemed like the type that didn’t even know how pretty she was. Most of the women Jonesy knew would try and use their feminine wiles on him if they were selling something. Katie wasn’t the type to do that. She could be playing up the widow bit, but Jonesy didn’t think so. She seemed genuinely grief stricken. He remembered how blue her eyes got as they filled with tears...

Jonesy’s feelings disturbed him so greatly that he called Katie to cancel. What he was feeling started to frighten him. He shut himself off for so long that he couldn’t imagine letting someone get close to him. However, when Katie answered the phone in her musical voice, Jonesy merely confirmed she would be able to get off work and said he’d see her Thursday.

The days passed slowly, but finally it was Thursday. Jonesy arrived at the Frayne residence at half past two. As he pulled into the driveway, he saw a two story yellow farmhouse. It was nothing fancy, but it looked well kept and quite comfortable. Flowers lined the beds in front of the house and filled the boxes in the windows. There were several buildings near the house, one of which was a large barn. Jonesy saw the head of a large, black horse peeking out of the top of one of the barn’s stalls.

Jonesy looked around and saw the hood up on the old truck and a small form looking inside. "Katie, is that you?" he called. Suddenly, a blond head appeared from the side of the hood. Katie waved at him and made her way over.

"Hello! Glad that you found the place!"

Jonesy grinned at Katie and motioned to a spot of grease on her cheek. Katie laughed and rubbed it off. "For a woman you give good directions," Jonesy teased. "Don’t tell me you work on engines as well?"

Katie laughed and shook her head. "On the way home from the diner last night, the truck started making an awful noise. I was hoping it would be something so obvious that even I would know what was wrong when I looked under the hood. Unfortunately, I can’t make heads or tails of what an engine should look like." She sighed deeply. "Well, there goes any money I make if you decide to buy the plow. But at least I wouldn’t have to worry about how the mechanic will get paid. Come on. The plow is over here in this barn." She led Jonesy to the large barn that housed the horse.

Jonesy watched the petite lady as she walked to the barn. He was overcome with a deep wave of sympathy for her, which was so unlike him. "Well, Katie, I’m pretty handy under a vehicle. I may be able to take a look under the hood and see if I can fix it."

"Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. I feel bad enough having you drive all this way," Katie stammered.

"It’s not a problem at all. I’d be happy to." Jonesy looked the plow over and whistled. "This is in excellent shape. It’s a really nice piece of equipment."

Katie lovingly ran her hand over the machinery. "Win believed in taking care of what you have. He wasn’t particularly fond of tinkering with machinery, but he always made sure somebody kept this repaired and oiled." Katie’s eyes twinkled and she softly laughed. "Win was about as handy as I am with machinery. He was more of a nature lover. He always said he felt more comfortable with the four-legged type of horsepower than the kind you find under the hood of an automobile." Her voice began to shake a bit and she visibly composed herself. "So, Jonesy, what would be a fair price? I must admit to being a bit ignorant about such things.

Jonesy stared up at the barn’s ceiling and scratched his chin. He could easily cheat Katie and pay much less than what the plow was worth. That was how he normally conducted his business. Most everything he had he gained in an underhanded manner. However, he could not bring himself to cheat this pretty blonde widow. And it wasn’t just the fact that Katie was good looking. There was something else. For the first time in his life, Jonesy felt compassion for another. In the end, he actually gave Katie much more than the plow was worth.

"Well, now that we have that settled, how about I take a look under the hood of your truck out there?" Jonesy asked. "Do you have some tools handy? If it’s something minor, I might be able to fix it with an adjustment."

"Win’s tools are in the garage. I’m not sure what you’ll find, but there may be something you can use in there. If you don’t mind, I’m going to the house for a minute to start dinner." Katie started toward the house, and then shyly turned back to Jonesy. "If you don’t have plans, maybe you can stay for dinner. It’s the least I can do to thank you for buying the plow and fixing the truck."

Jonesy laughed. "Don’t thank me, yet! I’ll see what I can do. But it would be nice to stay for dinner. Thank you very much for the invitation." He whistled a merry tune as he headed for the garage. He wasn’t expecting a dinner invitation. Could someone as wonderful as that actually be interested in me? He quickly dismissed the thought from his mind and opened the side door of the garage.

Jonesy found the light and peered around the large building. He saw a bookshelf on one wall that contained books on animals and plants. Some looked old and rather worn. There were little jars filled with different plants. It looked like samples you might find in a biology lab.

In the other corner, there was a table used for woodworking. Several carpentry tools were placed neatly on pegs. A shelf lay unfinished on the table. Jonesy picked it up and studied it carefully. He rubbed the fine grain of the wood and noticed the intricate carvings. Someone put a lot of time in this, he thought as he placed it back on the table. He picked up a small tool used for carving and wondered at the talent of the person who had crafted the shelf.

"What are you doing in here? Put that down!" Jonesy jumped at the angry voice. He looked up in surprise to see a young boy standing before him. Apparently the kid had just returned from fishing, since he was holding a rod and tackle box in one hand and a line of fish in the other. The boy had thick red hair. His eyes were bright green and filled with fire. A smattering of freckles dotted his nose, and his jaw was set in an angry expression. For a kid, he seems pretty fierce, Jonesy thought in amusement.

"Hey, don’t get your panties in a wad, kid. Katie sent me in here to get some tools so I can take a look at her truck." Jonesy noticed the boy’s eyes grow even greener and took immense pleasure in the fact he had made the kid mad. "What’s it to you, anyway?"

The boy scowled. "Those look like woodworking tools to me. You’d have a hard time fixing a truck with them."

"Ain’t you ever heard that kids should be seen and not heard?" Jonesy sneered at the boy. "You didn’t answer my question. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"My name is Jim Frayne. This is my house, so I can be here if I want. And you didn’t do what I asked. Put down my father’s tools!"

Jonesy put the carver down, mainly from surprise. He stared at the kid in disbelief. This is her kid, he thought in disbelief. Well, this is just great! I finally found a woman I like and she’s got some brat!

"I didn’t know Katie had a kid." Jonesy attempted a friendly tone but wasn’t sure if he accomplished it or not. He hated kids!

"Well, she does." Jonesy noticed Jim was making no effort to take the edge out of his voice. He had to admit that for a boy, Jim didn’t show any fear. Must be his redheaded temper, Jonesy thought.

"Do you mind showing me where those tools are, boy?" Jim didn’t move a muscle. "I just wanna see if I can fix that truck for your Ma. I’m not gonna swipe ‘em or anything."

Jonesy watched Jim’s face at the mention of his mother. He seemed to soften and consider what Jonesy had said. A real mama’s boy. May come in handy to know that, Jonesy thought. He watched as Jim pulled a toolbox from a shelf in the back. It was obviously heavy, but Jim managed it, easily.

"So, how old are you, kid? You look about twelve, but your ma doesn’t look old enough to have a kid that age."

"I’m nine," Jim answered gruffly. "I just look old for my age. Are you going to look at that engine or not? It’s getting late and I’m sure you’ll need to leave soon."

Jonesy sneered. Guess who’s coming to dinner, Jimmy boy.

 

 

Chapter Three

Jonesy was glad to get away from that kid. Jim proceeded to busily straighten his father’s workshop table after giving Jonesy the tools. Jonesy took that opportunity to escape. He stomped all the way to the old truck and popped the hood. Just what have you got yourself into? Meet some pretty blonde and you go from a heartless cad to some yellow-bellied knight in shining armor. He slammed the toolbox on a picnic table near the truck and studied the engine. She may be beautiful, but she’s got a kid! And not just any kid. A mouthy redhead kid. Even if I could get her interested in me, I’d be stuck with some redheaded step kid! Jonesy snickered. Maybe that’s where that saying came from. Some poor sap probably was knocked loopy by a pair of big blue eyes and married a widow with a redheaded kid who couldn’t keep his yap shut! That won’t be me! There’s no way I’m gonna...

"Any luck?" Katie’s soft voice startled Jonesy and made him jump. He hit his head on the hood of the truck. Maybe that’ll knock these fool thoughts out of my thick head, he thought. "I brought you some lemonade," she said, holding a tall glass. "I thought you might be thirsty."

Jonesy wiped his greasy hands on a handkerchief from his back pocket. "Thank you, ma’am. It is a bit hot out today." As he took the glass from her their hands touched. The intensity he felt at such a small contact bothered him, and he quickly took the glass. He took a long drink and tried to clear his thoughts. Gonna take something harder than lemonade to get this girl outta my mind.

They sat down at the picnic table while Jonesy finished his lemonade. "I think I found the problem," he said, holding the cool glass to his sweaty brow. "That racket you heard in the engine was the fan belt. It’s torn in two. That particular fan belt is really wide and runs the whole engine. The half that was on was running the whole engine, and what was left was slapping the motor. It’s a good thing you made it home when did. It wouldn’t have been long before the half running the engine came off too, and you woulda been stuck. You’ll need a new one put on before you go anywhere."

Katie sighed and bit her lip. "I’m glad I made it home, at least. Tomorrow morning I can call a tow truck to take it into the shop. I’m glad you told me or I might have tried to limp it to work in the morning."

"Do you have a way into work?"

Katie nodded. "My neighbor that lives up the road goes to work the same time I do. She works at the store across the street from the diner. I’m sure I can get a ride with her."

"Well, I need to come back here with my trailer to pick up that plow. I could come back on Saturday and fix it for you," Jonesy offered.

"I would appreciate it so much! I’d be happy to pay you anything..."

Jonesy shook his head. "Nah. It wouldn’t take much labor. Just an hour or so. And I can pick up a fan belt for twenty bucks."

"It still seems like a lot of trouble for you. I’d hate for you to go out of your way."

"If my pop wasn’t dead, he’d slap me if I didn’t help out a widow woman." Especially one as pretty as this.

Katie laughed. "That’s very nice of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay all the kindness you’ve shown." She looked up and saw Jim shutting the garage door. Her eyes brightened at the sight of her son. "Jimmy! Come over here and meet someone!" Jim hurried to his mother’s side.

"We ran into each other in the garage, but I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced," Jonesy said with a grin. "Your boy helped me find the tools. He told me his name, but I never got around to telling him mine. Jim, I’m Jacobson Jones, but you can call me Jonesy." He stuck out his hand.

Jim studied him carefully and hesitantly shook Jonesy’s hand. Jonesy ever so slightly increased the pressure, and Jim matched him. His green eyes locked with Jonesy’s dark ones, and Jim stared him down. "Glad to meet you...sir."

"Nice manners you got there, boy."

"My father taught me to be polite to my elders. He was a great man." Jonesy quickly ended the shake. He couldn’t stand this kid. If his ma weren’t so pretty, I’d be on the first train to the other side of town.

"I need to go in and finish up dinner," Katie said as she stood up to go in the house. "Jimmy, why don’t you help Mr. Jones clean up here, then you both can wash your hands for dinner." She lovingly ruffled Jim’s hair, and then was off to the house. Jonesy noticed the scowl that crossed Jim’s face at the mention of his staying for dinner. He also noticed that, although Jim obviously didn’t want him there, Jim didn’t say anything to his mother. He silently obeyed his mother and began cleaning up the tools.

"You always do what you’re told right away?" Jonesy asked.

"I try to mind my mom. My father taught me a lot of things before he died, and respecting my parents was one them." Jim wiped his hands on his jeans and picked up the toolbox. "Now that Dad is gone, I try to help Mom and take care of her as best as I can." They walked to the garage and proceeded to put away the tools.

"Well, Jimmy, I’m just trying to help her out too. My daddy always encouraged me and my brother to treat a lady right." Especially if she was good lookin’.

"My name’s Jim," the kid said angrily. "Don’t call me Jimmy."

"You don’t like that, huh? Well, if I’m not mistaken, I heard your Ma call you Jimmy not ten minutes ago." Jonesy may not like the boy, but he sure enjoyed making him hot under the collar.

"That’s different. She’s my mom and can call me whatever she wants." Jim angrily slammed the door of the garage. "My name is James Winthrop Frayne the second, in case you have trouble remembering ‘Jim’."

"Well, Jimmy, aren’t you just the little crown prince." Jonesy scornfully laughed at the kid. "Now where do we wash up, James Winthrop Frayne the second?"

Jim gritted his teeth and led the way to a large sink in the barn. He showed Jonesy where the soap was and went over to his horse’s stall. Jim was too angry to try and be sociable. Jonesy didn’t mind the silence. He knew he had rattled the kid and was enjoying that fact immensely. I never knew kids could be this much fun! he thought to himself.

As Jonesy washed his hands, he watched Jim lovingly pet his horse. It was a large, black gelding; larger than any horse Jonesy had ever seen. Not that he had paid much attention to horses. "That your horse, boy?"

"He was my dad’s." Jim answered, unable to keep the pain out of his voice. "His name is Blackie. Dad let me name him when I was four."

"So your old man liked horses, huh? What else did he do for fun? I assume that junk in the garage was his."

As much as Jim disliked this Jonesy, he loved talking about his father. "It’s not junk. It was my dad’s woodworking things. He was an excellent carpenter."

"Hey, I meant no offense, kid. I saw the shelf he made. It was real good."

"Thanks," Jim replied softly. "Dad was really talented. He was working on that shelf for my Mom’s birthday before he died."

"That’s tough luck. It’s hard only having one parent. I lost my mom when I was around your age."

"I’m sorry." Jim couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the unsavory man. It was against his nature to be hateful.

"Don’t waste your sympathy on me, kid. Ma didn’t die. She took off with Dad’s best friend. Dad only wished that he coulda met him first." Jonesy chuckled. "Someday you’ll get that, kid. That’s funny. So what was all those books and jars on that shelf in there?"

"Dad loved animals and he studied them for a living. He was a naturalist. There wasn’t an animal alive that Dad couldn’t make friends with. He worked for the state, taking care of the animals in the preserves around here. He also taught a few classes on zoology at the local college. He was a really good teacher. All his students liked him. Sometimes we would go to the pond and gather up different samples of plants for his class."

"So Daddy was father of the year?" Jonesy’s voice dripped with scorn.

"Yeah, he was. He was a wonderful father. He taught me stuff and spent lots of time with me and Mom. We went fishing and camping. He loved horses and taught me to ride when I was little. From the time I was five, I could ride this horse bareback with only a halter rope to guide him."

The slight pride in Jim’s voice grated Jonesy. Jonesy’s dad never taught him anything, except how to drink and fight and pick up women. "Well, aren’t you a regular little Roy Rogers," he said sarcastically.

"Do you ride?" Jim asked.

"I don’t care much for animals of any kind. I’ve met a few stray dogs that I could relate to, but I prefer a fast car to a dumb horse." Jonesy dried his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. Jim was giving the horse a sugar cube and whispering unknown things to it. "So what are you going to do with your horse after you move to your apartment next month?"

Jim’s shoulders sagged. "I guess I’ll have to sell him. I really hate to, though. I want him to have a good home."

Jonesy scratched his chin. "I may have a friend that’d be interested in him."

"Would he be good to him?" Jim gave the horse some grain and a clean supply of water. He gave it a final pat and closed the stall door.

"Oh, sure! He’d feed him real good to fatten him up before he turned him into dog food!" Jonesy chuckled heartily at the look of horror on Jim’s face. "Well, kid, I’m heading inside to see what your Ma’s up to. You wash up like a good boy." Jonesy swaggered off, leaving Jim alone.

Jim washed his hands and let out a deep sigh. It was going to be a long evening.

\\

Chapter Seven

Jonesy pulled up to the Frayne’s house early Saturday morning. Before he got out of the truck, he looked in the rearview mirror and appraised his appearance. He had carefully shaved that morning and slicked back his dark hair. He dressed in a nice short sleeve shirt, although he knew he would be working on a vehicle. Jonesy stared at his reflection and practiced his most charming smile. He hated the fact that his teeth were stained yellow from years of smoking. He tried to quit repeatedly, but any time he experienced stress, he started back again. Maybe I’ll be able to quit this time, for Katie, he thought. She doesn’t seem to be the type who appreciates cigarette smoke.

Jonesy had seen a picture of Katie’s husband. Win, he thought with a snort. What kind of name is that? He knew from the picture that Win was one of those men that the ladies liked. He had a full head of dark, red, wavy hair and had a nice face. One of them rugged types, he leered; remembering Win’s strong set jaw and chiseled features. Win Frayne resembled a redheaded young Robert Redford. Jonesy looked in the mirror, again. Jonesy knew he wasn’t the rugged type; the only Hollywood type that he looked like was a young Jack Nicholson. He even had that same crazy look in his eyes.

Jonesy hauled a large trailer behind his pick-up truck. He had acquired the proper fan belt to fix the truck, as well as a case of oil. This time he brought his own toolbox, so he would not need to use Win’s. He had another item in his truck. During their dinner conversation, Katie had mentioned how she hated leaving her prized rose bushes when she sold the house. So, for the first time in all his 31 years, Jonesy bought a large bouquet of roses to give to a woman.

Jonesy hopped out of his truck and, with the roses in his hand, knocked on the front door. When Katie answered, she took his breath away. She had on a blue sundress that matched her eyes and her hair was pulled away from her face. She looked like an angel.

"Good morning!" she said in a cheery voice. Then she spied the large vase of red roses. "Oh, my! What lovely flowers!"

Jonesy nervously studied his feet and handed her the bouquet. "You mentioned having to leave your rose bushes if you sell the house. I just thought these might make you feel better." He anxiously wrung his hands.

"Thank you so much," Katie stammered. "That was very sweet of you, but you really shouldn’t have. I mean, I barely know you, and I’m sure they were expensive, and…"

"I just thought you might need some cheering up. You looked a little down during dinner that night. And don’t worry about the money. With the truck farm doing so well, I have more money than I know what to do with." Jonesy explained nervously. Instantly, he was filled with apprehension. What if she thinks I’m moving too fast? he wondered. "I didn’t mean to offend you any. I just wanted to…"

"They are very lovely," Katie said earnestly. "They do cheer me up. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten flowers, especially roses. My husband always bought me white orchids." She stepped away from the door, not seeing Jonesy roll his eyes at the mention of Win. "Why don’t you come in for a moment while I put these in the house?"

Jonesy went into the living room and anxiously looked around for Jim. "Where’s your boy?" he asked, trying to sound concerned.

"He’s out in the barn. He wants to take his horse out for a ride later on." Katie placed the flowers on the shelf above the fireplace. "He’s planning to go after he helps you with loading the plow. He knew you were coming early this morning and didn’t want to keep you waiting."

Just wants to get rid of me, is more like it! Jonesy thought bitterly. "That’s real helpful of him," he said as obligingly as possible.

The phone rang before Katie could reply. "While I get that, maybe you could go out and get Jim."

Jonesy gave her a quick nod and went outside. He stayed out of sight on the porch and eavesdropped to see who was calling Katie.

"Hello…Yes, Mr. Butler…So glad to hear from you…Yes, we want to sell if they are still interested…"

Satisfied that the caller was not a rival for Katie’s attentions, Jonesy strutted to the barn in search of Jim. He went inside and found the boy carefully grooming his horse. "Gonna take a ride on old Dog Food?" His comment coupled with the tone had the desired effect on Jim. The boy jumped in surprise at Jonesy’s gruff voice. Jim glared at Jonesy with an angry look on his freckled face. He recovered quickly, however, and continued brushing his horse.

"Don’t talk much, do ya, boy?"

Jim went right on currying, not bothering to look up. "Don’t have much to say."

"I thought yer daddy taught you to respect yer elders."

"He did, but he also taught me that respect should be earned, not expected." Jim calmly ran his brush over the gelding’s back.

Jonesy’s eyes darkened with rage. "Why, you little… What are sayin’? That I don’t deserve your respect?"

Jim innocently shrugged his shoulders. "You were the one who brought up my father’s lessons. I just happened to remember that particular one and thought I’d mention it." Jim put away his grooming supplies and patted his horse on its flanks. He looked up and stared Jonesy in the eye. Jonesy may have caught him off guard, but Jim was determined not to act afraid of the offensive creature before him.

Jonesy stared right back at Jim, trying to convey every malicious thought in his wicked brain. If he wasn’t trying so hard to pursue Katie, he would earn that brat’s respect, all right. He’d take that whip down from the wall and show that kid who was boss.

Suddenly, Katie Frayne appeared at the barn door. "Oh, good. You found each other," she smiled at them both, unaware of the tension that filled the air. "Jimmy, why don’t you help Mr. Jones with that plow, and then you can go on your ride?"

"Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you, instead?" Jim glanced suspiciously at Jonesy.

"No, son. You should ride as much as possible while you have the chance. I heard from Mr. Butler and that family is buying the farm." She hesitated a moment before adding, "He said they might want to buy your horse, as well."

Jim’s heart sank. "Well, I guess that’s for the best," he said, disappointment evident in his voice. "At least old Blackie here won’t have to move."

"You know that my friend is always willing to take your horse off your hands." Jonesy’s friendly tone belied his mean taunt. Katie smiled at Jonesy, thinking he was trying to comfort her son.

Jim angrily set his jaw. "I think it’s best for Blackie to stay here. And I think it’s best for me to wait until after dinner to go on my ride." He eyed Jonesy, skeptically. "Mom, you might need me to look after things here."

Katie laughed. "Now, Jim, I’ll be fine. You take too much responsibility on yourself. I think I can stay here and cook lunch without setting the house on fire or electrocuting myself."

"Don’t worry, kid. I’ll be here to keep an eye on your Ma." Jonesy smirked at the alarm on Jim’s face.

"That’s right, Jimmy. If anything goes wrong here, Jonesy will be here to take care of it." Katie still had not observed the strain between the two. "You go on your ride. I’ll be fine here. Now let’s see how difficult this equipment will be to load."

Katie followed Jim and Jonesy outside. Grudgingly, they worked together to get the machinery on the trailer. With Katie in hearing distance, Jonesy made sure to watch his temper and not say anything he might regret. Jim, knowing his mother was close by, dutifully followed instructions. Soon the task was accomplished.

In an attempt to impress Katie, Jonesy amicably slapped Jim on the back. "That’s a fine worker you got, Katie." She beamed with pleasure at the praise for her child. Jim, however, was not so easily deceived. He cringed at the feeling of Jonesy’s touch, but he did not say a word.

"Jimmy, you’d better get Blackie saddled up if you want to be back by lunchtime," his mother said. Jim futilely tried to protest once again but was interrupted by his mom. "No, it’s been settled. You go ride. Get dirty. Fall in the pond. Catch frogs. Enjoy being a nine year old boy!" She playfully patted him on the backside. "Now, go on with you!" Jim dejectedly trudged to the barn. He did not like the thought of leaving his mother alone with that man.

Jim obeyed his mother and bridled and saddled his horse. As he led Blackie out of the barn, he noticed that his mother had returned to the house and that Jonesy had begun repairing the truck. Feeling a little better, he gently kicked Blackie’s flanks and trotted off. He would go on his ride, but he made a mental note to not be long. He didn’t trust Mr. Jones one little bit.

 

Chapter Eight

Jonesy worked for over an hour repairing the truck’s fan belt. After he finished that, he began changing the oil. He was sure that task hadn’t been performed for quite some time, judging by the dark, black oil that seeped from the oil pan. He was finished with the truck, and went into the barn to wash his hands.

Earlier, Katie had brought him a large glass of water. She stayed momentarily to check on the progress of the work and then proceeded to hang freshly washed sheets on the clothesline out back. As Jonesy left the barn, he watched her, fascinated by the vision she made. The breeze was gently blowing her blonde waves, which were shimmering in the sunlight. She had a faint blush on her cheeks which made her even more attractive. She was having a difficult time hanging a large sheet on the line. One corner refused to stay on the line and kept fluttering to the ground.

Jonesy smiled and made his way to the clothesline. "It looks like you could use a little help," he said, picking up the transgressing corner and a clothespin.

Katie looked up at him, quite startled by his sudden appearance. "Don’t worry," he teased. "I don’t think yer clean sheets will mess up my dirty hands too bad." He was even more amused at how quickly Katie’s eyes darted to his hands and the look of relief that passed over her pretty face.

"You’re as bad a tease as my husband," she gently scolded.

Jonesy gave a hearty chuckle. "If you weren’t so pretty when you get mad, it wouldn’t be so much fun."

Katie weakly smiled. "That’s just what Win used to say." Both Katie and Jonesy were suddenly uncomfortable. "Are you finished with the truck?" Katie asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, ma’am. I fixed that belt like new. Should run like a top now. I did notice it was in need of an oil change." Katie’s face filled with worry. "Don’t worry," he assured her. "I thought it might, so I brought a case of oil with me and already took care of it. I’m awful glad I did. By the looks of the oil that came out, it hadn’t been done for a good bit. You wouldn’t want your motor to burn up."

Jonesy was rewarded for his hard work by a large smile from Katie. "Thank you, so much! I never would have thought of changing the oil. That was more Win’s department, although he didn’t do a very good job of it." Her smile turned rueful. "He hated working on the truck. He usually had it serviced in town; though I’m sure it hadn’t been done for some time. Now, what do I owe you for all your work?"

Jonesy shook his head. "Not a thing. Call it a good deed."

"Surely I can give you something in exchange for all your work. I don’t like to be beholden to any person."

Jonesy thought for a minute. He would like to ask for a kiss but knew that would be rushing her. Instead, he said, "How about if I’m ever in the area, I can drop by for one of your delicious meals?"

Katie laughed. "It’s a deal. You are staying for lunch, aren’t you?"

"I wouldn’t miss it."

"I’m finished here. Why don’t you sit on the front porch? After I check lunch, I’ll join you outside." She started to pick up the laundry basket, but Jonesy quickly beat her to it. He followed her into the laundry room, set down the basket, and went to the porch. He sat on the swing, hoping Katie might sit beside him. A few minutes later, she joined him. However, instead of sitting on the swing like he hoped, she chose the rocking chair.

"Dinner should be ready soon," she said. "Jimmy should have time to make it home and get cleaned up."

"Is he ridin’ close by?"

"Yes," Katie nodded. "There are several lovely trails around here."

"It sure is a pretty place here. I bet you’ll miss it when you have to move."

Katie sighed. "We will miss it. It’s the only home Jim has ever known. Win and I moved here a year after we were married. This place has so many memories. I hate to leave it."

"You sure do have a lot of junk to pack up. I saw some things in the garage that Jim said belonged to yer husband."

"Yes, Win always kept busy. He was a naturalist and kept many things he needed for his studies. He also did a lot of teaching. And of course, there are his woodworking materials. He was very talented. He even made this rocking chair I’m sitting on. I just..."

"Yer boy told me his dad was good at a lot of stuff," Jonesy interrupted. He was getting irritated at hearing about this wonderful Win. I get rid of one perfect man and have to compete with another, he thought. The wounds caused by never being able to measure up to Jack Jr. were still fresh. Jonesy noticed the look of hurt that passed Katie’s face. If I’m gonna sweep her off her feet, I better let her talk about Mr. Perfect, no matter how sick it makes me! "I saw that shelf he was workin’ on. Looked professional. Did he ever sell any of his stuff?"

Katie smiled and shook her head. "No, Win simply enjoyed it as a hobby, although I tried to persuade him to open his own shop. He was afraid it might take too much time away from me and Jim."

"From what yer boy tells me, he sure was a good dad. That’s nice the kid had someone to look up to. Not every boy has that."

Katie intently studied Jonesy. "Were you and your father close?" she asked.

Jonesy shifted in the swing and looked uncomfortable. "No, ma’am, we weren’t. Pop fed me and clothed me and put a roof over my head, but that was about it. He didn’t have much to do with me. He was always much fonder of my older brother."

"I’m so sorry," Katie said, softly. A wave of compassion passed over her for this man. She could tell that Jonesy hadn’t had the same kind of upbringing as she and Win had. She reached over and comfortingly placed her hand on Jonesy’s arm.

Jonesy looked up at her and tried to look as pitiful as possible. He knew he was garnering this lady’s sympathy and decided to milk it for all it was worth. "I just wish I could be a good role model for some kid. I’d like to have a son someday to teach stuff to, and do junk with." He sneaked a glance at Katie. Is she buying this? To his surprise, the look of pity on Katie’s face turned into admiration.

"I think that’s wonderful," she said. "I know Jim needs a good role model to look up to, now that his father is gone."

"Those would be two big shoes to fill." Jonesy’s voice dripped with earnestness, but in truth, he was sickened by his own words. Whatever it takes, he reminded himself.

"Yes, it would take a special man to be a step-father," Katie almost whispered. "A good one, that is."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sight of Jim riding up the driveway on Blackie. Jonesy noticed the look of pride on Katie’s face when she saw her son.

"Jim sure does ride good," Jonesy said. "Rides almost as good as any man does."

Katie nodded. "He takes after his father. Win could ride as well as any cowboy. He had a natural gift with animals."

Jonesy gritted his teeth. So, we’re back to Win, are we? Why ride a horse when you can just walk on water? "Well, his boy sure does take after him."

Katie stood up from her chair. "I need to go in and finish up lunch since Jim is home. Why don’t you go out to the barn? Maybe you two can visit for a few minutes while I get the food on the table."

Might as well. I’ve heard just about enough of Mr. Perfect. "I’d enjoy a talk with the boy," he said out loud. That’s not a total lie, he thought. I do enjoy torturing the kid

Jonesy sauntered out to the barn. Jim had taken Blackie’s saddle and bridle off and was carefully grooming him after their long ride.

"Have fun on your ride, kid?" Jonesy asked him.

Jim looked up briefly and nodded. "Guess so," he answered.

"Well, I had a fun time with yer ma." If it were possible, Jim’s eyes would have burned holes in Jonesy’s head. Jonesy chortled. "Don’t you worry, Jimmy. I was a good boy while you were gone."

Jim didn’t say a word. He silently brushed his horse, keeping his eyes on his work. His silence bugged Jonesy. "You don’t like me much, do ya kid?"

"No, I don’t," Jim answered honestly, never taking his eyes off Blackie.

"We’re even then, kid, because I don’t like you either," Jonesy sneered.

"Gee, I couldn’t tell." Jim looked up at Jonesy and then put his horse in his stall.

"How about we make us a deal?" Jonesy asked in a conciliatory tone. Jim looked at him in surprise.

"What kind of deal?"

"We may not think much of each other, but we both care for yer ma." Jim’s eyebrows lowered, but he let Jonesy continue. "I know you don’t want someone replacing yer old man, but somebody needs to help yer ma out."

"My father told me to take care of my mom," Jim said, a touch of defiance in his voice.

"I know yer tryin’, kid, and yer doin’ a good job. But you can’t do everything. There’s gonna be some things come up that you can’t take care of. Like the truck." Jim lowered his head and nodded. He may not like this man, but he knew Jonesy had a point.

"My only interest is helpin’ out yer ma. I like her a lot and I’m not planning on hurting her," Jonesy continued. "There’s a lot around here that needs to be done before you move. So let’s try and get along as best we can, for yer ma’s sake." He stuck out his hand to Jim. "Is it a deal?"

Jim thought about it for a moment. He slightly hesitated, then clasped Jonesy’s hand. "It’s a deal," he said quietly.

Gotcha! Jonesy thought, all the while a benevolent smile on his face.

Continue

*Thank you to my wonderful editors, Kay, Kathy, and Lori D. You all were such a big help! Thanks for being my guinea pigs!

*Thank you to Anna for putting this idea in my head to begin with!

*And a big thank you to my husband, Damon, who although he has never read a Trixie in his entire life, tirelessly reads my fanfic and tells me what he thinks.

J

Thanks to Zap, who so kindly posts my stories.

 TBH Main