by Liz Isaacson
“No,” Jeremiah said. It was Whitney’s bright red lips that kept him awake at night, though he was thinking about holding her hand now.
“And you’re hoping she’ll sit right beside you and talk to you in that pretty, Texas voice she has.” He practically sang the words at the end of the sentence, and annoyance ran through Jeremiah.
“You don’t even know if she has a pretty, Texas voice,” Jeremiah said, scoffing. But she did.
Liam laughed again. “You said it was about a woman,” he said, still chuckling. “So just admit you like her.”
“I don’t like her,” he said. Jeremiah warred with himself. He kept his eyes on the counter a few inches in front of him. “But I think I could, and she torments me with that voice, and I may have thought about kissing her.”
Pure panic streamed through him, and he expected Liam to laugh again.
He didn’t.
Jeremiah took another moment, and then he looked at his brother. “I don’t—I can’t go through what I did with Laura Ann.”
Liam simply looked at him, his eyes searching for something. “Your life didn’t end in Austin with Laura Ann.”
“I know that.” But Jeremiah really wasn’t sure if he did.
“I think if you like this woman, you should maybe…how do I say this nicely?” He exhaled, and Jeremiah almost didn’t want him to say it.
“Go on,” he said anyway.
“Get out of your own way,” Liam said. “Get out of your head. Hold her hand if you want to. Kiss her if you want to.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“You were livid about sitting beside her and her family,” Liam said.
“That’s my default,” Jeremiah said. “That way, everyone stays away.”
“Including Whitney.”
Jeremiah nodded. “But she doesn’t seem to care how many times I hang up on her or tell her to stop calling.”
Liam grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and that didn’t settle Jeremiah’s stomach. “Maybe she’s the one who can handle being with the Many Moods of Jeremiah.”
“Oh, come on.”
Liam laughed then, and Jeremiah couldn’t deny the fact that yes, he went from zero to sixty pretty quickly sometimes.
Maybe she’s the one. The thought terrified Jeremiah to his very core. He managed to finish eating, and Liam said, “I won’t tell anyone. But maybe you should just give yourself a chance.” He knocked a couple of times on the counter and got up. “Now I have to go hire some cowboys.”
Two days later, Jeremiah left the evening feeding in the capable hands of his cowboys. Orion would make sure every living creature got fed for the night, and then they’d join the Walker family in town. Jeremiah wanted to check-in early with Brenda for the New Year’s Eve parade, and fine. Maybe he wanted to talk to Whitney before the crazy started. With all of his brothers coming, the Seven Sons section of the parade route was going to be loud and obnoxious.
The parade didn’t start until six-thirty, and by then it would be dark. The grandstand, where they got to sit, would be lit until the parade started, and a general excitement ran through Jeremiah as he pulled into the reserved lot where he should be able to park.
“Name?” a man asked, holding a clipboard and pen, his cowboy hat covering his eyes.
“Jeremiah Walker,” he said.
“With Seven Sons?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many vehicles will you have?”
“Probably five,” he said. “Is that okay?”
“Yep.” The man made a note on his clipboard and handed Jeremiah a blue tag. “Put that in your window. Park anywhere.” He grinned at him. “Good to see you again, Jeremiah.”
“Oh, Brit, I didn’t even recognize you.” He stared at the man he’d seen at plenty of community ranch meetings. “What’s different?”
He laughed and shook his head. “My wife is going to win this bet. I shaved my beard.”
“Oh, right.” He laughed too, the sound breaking up some of the tension in his chest. “Good luck with whatever bet you’ve got.” He eased past Brit Bellamore and found a parking spot. He hauled as many camp chairs as he could carry over to the spot marked with a little sign that had hand-lettering on it. Seven Sons Ranch.
He wasn’t blind, and he could see the Wilde & Organic sign too. Whitney’s parents were there, spreading blankets and setting up a table. Panic blipped through Jeremiah. What did they need a table for?
“Evening, Jeremiah,” her father said, and Jeremiah nodded at him.
“Evening, Larry. Ma’am.”
“We brought chips and salsa,” she said. “Homegrown tomatoes from our farm.”
No wonder they needed a table. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, but he didn’t cross the line and go sample any. He started setting up the chairs he’d brought over, returning to his truck for the rest. He’d told his brothers he’d take care of everything, because it made him feel useful. Important. Worthy.
So much in his life had died when Laura Ann had fled the state, and Jeremiah needed something to make him feel alive. Cooking for his family and taking care of the ranch did that, and so far, it had been a good mask for what really troubled him.
The fact that he could feel very little. He didn’t have a relationship with the Lord anymore, though he still went to church. He barely prayed, because God wasn’t going to answer him anyway. He’d relied on his own strength and his own wit and his own talent around the homestead and ranch, and it was working so far.
Is it, though? he asked himself, wishing the doubts weren’t there. A couple of Whitney’s brothers and sisters had arrived, and they were passing out sandwiches and opening bags of chips. Micah and Skyler had said they’d stop and get food for the parade, so Jeremiah went back to his truck one last time to retrieve the home-smoked beef jerky he’d brought to share with the other grandstanders.
“Do you want to put that over here?” Molly asked, and Jeremiah looked over to their patch of grass. It was filled with life and people and a pulse. He was still waiting for his brothers to show up—and Whitney.
“Sure,” he said. “There’s room?” He stepped over the rope that had been set up to separate the spaces and piled the jerky on the table.
“There’s always room for more food,” Molly said with a smile.
“We can take this rope down,” Jeremiah said. “It’s just my brothers. Well, and the Foster sisters.” And Ivory. But they had plenty of room, and he removed the rope between their two spots. The rope stuck on a spike in the ground, and he bent to untangle it.
In that moment, he knew Whitney had arrived. He hadn’t seen her. But she had a presence that called to him, and sure enough, when he straightened and started coiling the rope, she stood at the table with all the food on it.
She wore dark jeans that disappeared into a pair of brown cowgirl boots with red stitching. Her red and white flannel top seemed tailored for her curves, and all that beautiful, dark hair had been curled and clipped just so, spilling down her back where it begged Jeremiah to fist his fingers in it as he kissed her.
Stupid Liam, he thought, as if he were fourteen years old again. As if it were Liam’s fault this woman had been tormenting him for six months.
Oh, no, that was Tripp’s fault, and Jeremiah was going to give him a piece of his mind the moment he showed up.
Whitney turned as if she could feel the weight of Jeremiah’s stare on her. Their eyes met, and something formed between them. He couldn’t be the only one who felt that, could he?
A smile danced across those bright red lips, and Whitney lifted a piece of his beef jerky to her mouth. She came toward him, and everything in the world was suddenly too hot.
“You alone tonight, cowboy?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said, glad his voice didn’t sound strangled. “My brothers are coming.”
“I assume this is yours.” She held out her beef jerky.
“Yeah,” he said. “Do you like it?” For some reason, he re
ally wanted her to like it.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s great.” She took another bite and looked at all the empty chairs. “Where are you sitting?”
“Uh—”
“Whitney,” a woman said, and she turned to her sister. “Can Dalton sit by you? He won’t get out of the car unless he can sit by you.”
“Of course,” Whitney said, turning back to Jeremiah. “My fifteen-year-old nephew. He and my sister don’t get along that well.”
“Being fifteen is hard,” Jeremiah said.
Whitney looked at him, searching his face for something. She took so much from him, and he didn’t even realize what he was willing to give her. “I have two sides,” she said. “I’d love to sit by you during the parade.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and took another bite of that beef jerky, tormenting him.
“Jeremiah, where do you want us?” Rhett asked, and Jeremiah looked at his brother. He’d arrived with Evelyn and Simone, and Jeremiah waved in a general direction of the chairs.
“Anywhere,” he said.
“We can talk about the ranch,” Whitney said. “And how you made this.” She popped the last bite of jerky in her mouth and turned around. Twisting back to him, she said, “If you want.”
Oh, he wanted to sit beside her. He’d tell her anything she wanted to know. An idea popped into his mind, and he let it marinate while he dealt with chairs and blankets as more people arrived.
Micah and Skyler showed up with pizza and sodas, and Jeremiah made sure his chair was situated right next to Whitney’s, at the back of the crowd, out of the way. He liked that she’d set up there, though she’d probably done it for her nephew.
“I had a thought,” he said once he had a plate of pizza balanced on his lap and a cold can of diet cola in his arm rest.
“Oh, boy,” Whitney said. “Sounds dangerous.” She sat beside a surly teenager who wore sunglasses though twilight had already fallen.
Jeremiah chuckled, because he couldn’t help himself. Liam was sitting way on the other side of the square, with Callie practically on his lap. He didn’t need to know what Jeremiah was doing over here. No one needed to know.
“My brother is getting married and leaving the ranch,” he said. “I was thinking…maybe for a wedding present, I’d give him a picture of it.”
Whitney’s head swung toward him so fast, Jeremiah thought for sure she’d get whiplash. Her eyes soaked him in, hope filling them so quickly that Jeremiah felt bad for denying her the opportunity to shoot at Seven Sons for all of these months.
“What are you saying?” she asked.
“I’m asking you to come out to the ranch and take some pictures,” he said. “Landscapes. Of the best features of the ranch. Not brides. Not families. And it’s not an open invitation to shoot at the ranch.”
A smile curved those lips, and Jeremiah couldn’t help staring at them. He cleared his throat and yanked his gaze away. “And then, I don’t know. We can pick one of the best ones to print for him. They can hang it in their house.” He lifted his pizza to his lips and took a bite. He said nothing while he ate, and when he finished the first slice, he finally dared to look at her again.
“What?” he asked, because she was still staring at him, wonder etched in her expression. “Do you not take landscapes? How much would it cost?”
Whitney cleared her throat too, and Jeremiah knew then that the attraction sparking through him was definitely not one-sided. “I can take landscapes,” she said. “And you’ll only have to pay for the print. I can get it at wholesale, though.”
“I can pay you for your time.”
Whitney put a coy smile on her face then, and she leaned closer to Jeremiah. He instinctually bent his head toward hers too. “I’d rather you paid for dinner.”
“Dinner?”
She giggled, and the sound was going to drive him straight to madness. “That’s right, cowboy. You can pay for dinner after the shoot. We’ll go together.”
“Jeremiah,” Wyatt said, and Jeremiah wanted to rip his brother’s face off. “We have a problem.”
We’ll go together.
To dinner.
With Whitney Wilde.
And he’d pay, which made it a date.
Light and joy filled him as he turned toward Wyatt. “Yeah?”
“Orion says he has a flat. Needs us to go get him and the others. Can we take your truck?”
“Sure,” Jeremiah said. “Take it.” He turned back to Whitney to confirm their date.
“I need the keys, bro,” Wyatt said, stepping in front of him.
“Oh, right.” Jeremiah dug in his pocket and produced the keys, hearing the slightest wisp of laughter from Whitney. Wyatt glanced at her, took the keys, and left. Thankfully. “Sorry, where were we?”
“You were just going to ask me to dinner,” Whitney said. “Or maybe I asked you.” She grinned again and looked at her nephew. “How did you hear it, Dalton?”
“You asked him, Aunt Whitney,” the boy said in a near monotone, staring straight ahead. “And old people flirting is weird.”
Whitney laughed and swatted his arm. “Watch your mouth. I’m not that old.”
Dalton’s mouth twitched, but he wouldn’t let a full smile show. Jeremiah knew exactly how the kid felt, because he was smothering his own smile too.
“So?” Whitney asked, the playfulness still loud in her voice. “Are you going to take me to dinner after the shoot or not?”
“Depends,” Jeremiah said, facing the street again.
“On what?”
He cut a look out of the corner of his eye. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Chapter Fourteen
Callie couldn’t believe the beauty of the light parade. She’d been before, as a little girl, but it almost took an act of God to get her off the Shining Star lately. And by lately, she meant the last decade or so.
Simone did the grocery shopping. Evelyn was the public face of the family. Callie went to church and she worked the ranch. She went to town to visit her father and grandmother. That was all she’d ever needed to do.
“You okay, Gran?” she asked, looking over at her grandmother now. “It’s a little chilly.” She was glad she’d bundled up in the thickest coat she had. Liam had brought a blanket too, and she already sat under that.
“Just fine, dear,” her grandmother said. “I haven’t been to this parade in a while.”
“Me either,” Callie said, her excitement growing as the holiday music continued to play. Three Rivers had a lot of town traditions, and this New Year’s Eve celebration had really picked up in the past several years.
The scent of roasting meat and fried food filled the air, and a whole food truck extravaganza was going on in the downtown park behind them.
“You guys are set for Sunday?” she asked, looking past her grandma to her father. “Do I need to come and take a suit to the cleaners?”
“I can do it,” her father said with a smile. “And yes, I’m ready.”
Callie couldn’t believe she was getting married on Sunday. Married. She glanced at Liam, who was turned toward Tripp. They were talking in low voices about something, and Callie looked back at her family. Rhett and Evelyn sat in front of them, with Simone as well. Wyatt and Micah had chairs there too, but they’d left to get the other cowboys.
Her two sisters, her father, and her grandmother were everything she’d had for so long, but now…. Now she had the whole Walker family too.
“Okay,” she said. “It’s not going to be a big wedding. Just family.”
“That’s the perfect kind,” her grandma said, reaching over to cover Callie’s hand with one of her weathered ones. “We’re very excited for you and Liam.”
“Thank you, Gran.” Callie squeezed her hand and turned when the lights flashed. A cry went up, and people who had been out on the street started moving back to their seats.
“Five minutes,” a man said over the loudspeaker. “Please clear the road and be ready for the lights to go out
in five minutes.”
She squeezed Liam’s hand, and he turned toward her. “I’m so excited,” she said.
He grinned at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah? What are you excited about?”
“I haven’t been to this for ages,” she said. “I heard it’s gotten really good.” The diamond on her ring finger felt amazing too. She looked up into Liam’s eyes. “I haven’t been…happy about anything for so long. I haven’t had a single thing to look forward to.”
Compassion filled his gaze, and he leaned down and touched his lips to hers in a sweet, meaningful kiss. “I’m glad, sweetheart.”
“I’m willing to talk about the honeymoon,” she said. He’d tried to bring it up on Tuesday morning too, when he’d suggested a wedding date of Sunday. He’d already gotten the Internet up to speed, and he claimed the only thing they needed to do now was tie the knot. Say that invented I-do.
But she’d been adamant that she didn’t need to go on a honeymoon. She had a ranch to run, didn’t he know?
“You are?” he asked.
She nodded, thinking about the rules they’d set for themselves. None of those had changed, though her relationship with Liam was definitely something different than it had been even a week ago.
“Well, good thing I already bought those tickets to Hawaii, then,” Liam said, his grin as big as the whole state of Texas.
Callie gaped at him, shocked for a moment. Then she realized she should’ve known he’d already have a plan—with tickets bought—for their honeymoon. No matter what she said, Liam did what he wanted.
“You deserve it,” he said, as if he could sense her growing irritation with him. “And you need a break from that ranch, and we need some time to ourselves.”
“Liam,” she said, a new type of knot forming inside her. She leaned closer to him, glad the music was still playing loudly. “You know what people do on their honeymoon, right?”
“Our rules stand,” he whispered. “But tell me you don’t want to go to Hawaii.”
“I’ve never left the state,” she said, the fear right there.
“I know, sweetheart. And I can tell you’re a little worried about it. But you don’t need to be. It’s just a few hours on an airplane.”