by Jill Lynn
“What do you need me to do?”
“Grab the pickles. And those jars with the candy. I should have set those out before since they’re part of the decorations, but I didn’t want the kids getting into them early.”
Finn gathered the items she’d mentioned while Ivy took the fixings for grilled burgers from the fridge. When she turned, Finn had set the items back on the counter. He took the serving plates from her and did the same, and then his arms came around her. Well, as much as they could when her pregnant belly extended between them.
“I just need to hold you for a second.” The girls’ saying gained a smile, and she relaxed against her husband. She could stop rushing. No one would know she had a schedule written out for what food should be served when. No one would know she’d stolen thirty seconds in the kitchen with the man she loved.
In two short months, they would celebrate their two-year wedding anniversary. Almost two years of choosing to love each other, choosing to communicate, choosing to laugh. Finn had become a father to the girls. They called him Dad or Daddio or Pops—whatever fit their fancy each day—and he beamed every single time.
His kiss pressed against her hair. “You feeling okay?”
“I feel great.” Except for the intermittent Braxton-Hicks contractions that had plagued her since this morning. But there was no reason to concern Finn. They were common a few weeks out.
The pregnancy had been a surprise. Ivy hadn’t known if she’d be able to get pregnant, and so they’d decided they’d be fine either way. They had the girls, and they were enough. But their little boy, who was due in thirteen days, would be a welcome addition to the family.
When Ivy made a move to leave Finn’s arms, he tugged her back against him. “I’m not done yet.”
She laughed, her voice muffled against his shirt. “Your sister is going to think I’ve forgotten this shower is about her.”
“Charlie and Ryker are having a great time. They’re not going to notice a thing.”
The celebrating parents had married three months after the opening of the café. The next year, they’d begun fostering a three-year-old and his baby sister. Today was the celebration of their adoption.
Ivy inhaled the scent of Finn, letting it flow down to ease her aching back and legs. “Okay, now we really do need to get out there.”
Finn released her. “Yes, ma’am.” They each grabbed the items they’d been holding and headed back into the sunshine. “Who would have thought this many families could produce this many children?”
Their family had become friends with many of the families of the men who attended Bible study with Finn.
When Ivy and the girls had slid off the road, never could she have imagined all of this would be waiting for her. Not only had she gained a husband who was her best friend, her girls had gained an amazing father, and she’d also built friendships that she couldn’t fathom finding anywhere else. Deep and true and abiding. Community was a beautiful thing, and Ivy hadn’t realized how much she’d been missing it until she’d happened upon it in Westbend.
And to think she and the girls had come so close to leaving Colorado after her falling-out with Finn. It was only by the grace of God that they’d stayed, and He’d healed all of them in so many ways.
Finn set the food items on the table and went to start the grill.
“Do you need any help with that?” Emma Frasier, who was married to Gage, approached just as Ivy dropped off her items and began organizing.
“You’re sweet to offer, but we can handle it.” Ivy was hosting with Addie, who had just waved and walked in the direction of the house, which meant she was grabbing the other sides. “You just relax.” Emma was carting around her seven-month-old—little Zeke—but it wasn’t in her nature not to offer to assist.
Her older son was running around with the big kids, who were playing tag. Jace and Mackenzie’s son, fittingly named Wilder after his mom’s maiden name and perfectly representing his personality, took a tumble in the dirt but quickly righted himself so as to avoid missing out.
“I otay!” He popped up and rejoined the game, causing the adults to laugh.
Addie arrived with the sides and set them on the table, adding serving spoons. She’d put Evan on baby duty today, which meant he was currently chasing their little one-year-old girl as she attempted to chase her big brother.
A car pulled into the ranch drive, and Addie shaded her eyes. “Who’s that?”
“Kaia and Max,” Ivy answered. “He told me the other day he’s been shopping for engagement rings. The two of them sure took their sweet time getting to this point. Probably not a bad thing with all Kaia and Honor have been through.”
Honor jumped out of the back seat of the car and ran to catch up with the kids, midgame. Kaia waved in Ivy’s direction as they exited the vehicle, and then she and Max joined some other young couples from church, their linked hands making Ivy smile.
Oh. Ivy placed a hand on her lower back and stopped to breathe deeply through the pain.
“You okay?” Addie questioned, studying her.
“I’m fine. Just having a few Braxton-Hicks contractions.”
Charlie joined them, obviously overhearing the end of their conversation. “Really? How often?”
“This morning not as much, but now they’re happening more regularly.”
Like moths to a flame, Mackenzie Hawke and Cate Wilder, Luc’s wife, also joined the conversation. “What’s happening over here? Do you all need help with anything?”
“Ivy’s having contractions but thinks they’re only Braxton-Hicks.” At Addie’s declaration, Ivy’s lids shuttered.
“Addie,” she scolded the woman. No need to broadcast it to the whole group.
“What? It’s true. But I’m not sure you’re not having actual contractions.”
“Let’s get you a chair.” Emma found a lawn chair and brought it to Ivy. “Just sit a minute. Maybe you’ve been doing too much.”
“I told you hosting right now wasn’t a good idea.” Charlie’s arms crossed, her concern evident.
Hands on Ivy’s shoulders gently pushed her into the chair.
“I’m fine. You’re all overreacting.”
“Did you go into labor with the girls?” Emma asked.
“No. I had a cesarean.”
“And you said you’ve been feeling these all day?” Mackenzie questioned.
“Yes, but they’re not terrible.”
“Hmm.” Mackenzie frowned. “I didn’t have terrible contractions before having Wilder.” As if in answer, her son gave a whoop and pretended to strike down a cousin with a fake sword. She laughed at the play. “Like mother, like son. I’m just going to grab Jace. He’s trained in these things as an EMT.”
“Wait! I promise I’m...fine.”
Mackenzie either didn’t hear or she wasn’t listening. She returned in a moment with Jace in tow. Finn followed Jace, as had the other men he’d been talking to near the grill, which meant now Ivy was sitting in a lawn chair in the middle of a crowd, completely on display, completely embarrassed. Finn rounded the group to stand next to her. He slid a hand under her hair and massaged the back of her neck.
Oh, that felt good.
Jace began asking her numerous questions that he obviously used in his work.
“When did the pain start?”
“This morning.” She’d woken to them, actually, attributing it to excitement over today.
“Are the contractions in your abdomen? Or your back or where?”
“Kind of everywhere, I guess. Lower back is where they started, though now I’m feeling it more...” She motioned to her abdomen and legs, because yeah, the last hour or so, it had been traveling.
“You need to go in, Ivy. I think you’re in labor.”
“When I had the twins, if I hadn’t gone in when I did...” C
ate Wilder fought back emotion. “It’s not worth risking anything. It’s always best to get checked.” Luc tucked his wife against his side, comforting her. Ivy had heard their story, but the twins had come very early and Cate had suffered health complications. Their situations were different.
Ivy’s sigh was audible. But Cate—and everyone—was right. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Fine. I’ll go in.” The table full of gifts sat to her left, so full, so pretty. “But I’m hosting a shower.” Her declaration ended with a moan. She’d been looking forward to this shower for over a month.
“Cohosting,” Addie chimed in. “I can handle the hosting, or we can postpone until we know more.”
“Wait? What? No way. If I’m being forced to go to the hospital, even though these are false contractions, then you all are going to continue this shower. It’s happening.” Ivy stared down every last one of them. “Got it?”
She was answered with a chorus of Yes, ma’ams.
Once she and Finn were assured that their guests would continue the party—and take care of the triplets—they grabbed the birthing bag and drove to the hospital.
Two short hours later, Ivy held their beautiful, healthy newborn son in her arms.
Finn settled on the edge of the bed as the nurses and doctor gave them a minute alone with their latest addition.
“If we hadn’t left when we did, you might have had our son on the side of the road.” Finn’s amused grin still had the power to make her stomach do cartwheels. “Fitting for how I first met you.”
Ivy groaned. “That would have been terrible.” She ran her fingers over the baby’s incredibly soft cheeks. “But we would have survived it.”
“We would have. Like we do anything—together.” Finn kissed her forehead, lingering, tender. “You were amazing, Ivy. I’ve never seen you stronger.”
“Must be some sort of natural instinct that kicks in.” She traced the baby’s tiny fingers, marveling at the miniature nails. “What are you thinking about for a name?”
They had a list and some top contenders, but they’d wanted to wait to meet him before deciding for certain.
Finn studied the baby, pride and joy evident. “Let’s say which name we like best at the same time.”
“Okay. One, two, three...”
“Marshall.”
They both said Finn’s grandfather’s name—which was also his middle name. The family patriarch had passed away peacefully in his sleep about a year ago, but the impact he’d had on his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren would never be forgotten.
“Perfect name.” Ivy lifted her chin for a kiss, and Finn bent, his lips warm and comforting on hers.
“Perfect baby.” Finn shifted more onto the bed with her, propping his long legs down the mattress and tucking his arm around her back. He touched the baby’s nose and earned a wrinkled brow in response, making them both laugh. “Welcome to the world, little Marshall. You’re already loved by so many.”
It was true—both her parents and Finn’s were more than ready to be involved in Marshall’s life, just like both already doted on the girls. Each set of grandparents visited often, and things had smoothed considerably between Ivy and her parents as they’d witnessed her growing ability to stand up for herself and make wise decisions...including the one to love and choose the man currently holding her.
“Your sisters are going to flip out when they see you. Do the girls know yet?” Ivy checked with Finn.
“No. Charlie and Ryker took them back to their place after the shower wrapped up, but she’s not going to tell them until we give her the go-ahead. She wondered if we’d want to have her bring them to the hospital so we can surprise them.”
“Let’s do it. They will lose their little minds with excitement.”
“That they will. I keep thinking about how we wouldn’t have any of this if you hadn’t given me a second chance back when I botched things up. I’m glad you didn’t give up on me, Ivy. On us.”
Her eyes closed as the emotion of today wrapped around her like his warm hug. “I can’t imagine life without you. I can’t imagine even one day of not loving you back.”
Most men would run away from rather than toward the kind of mess she’d been when arriving in Westbend. Ivy could look back now and see what Finn had first witnessed. She didn’t blame him for his initial wariness of her. But she was eternally grateful they’d both moved past those preliminary reactions.
Her theory that Finn Brightwood was a generous, caring, beautiful soul and not the closed-off version of himself that he’d portrayed when they’d first met had been proven correct time and time again. He was perfect for her and the girls...and now Marshall.
“God bless you, Finn Brightwood.”
His chest vibrated with a chuckle. “There is no me in this. Only us. So I think the phrase you’re looking for is ‘God bless us.’”
Ivy’s smile bloomed as Finn stole Marshall from her, the baby somehow appearing even tinier in his strong hands. Her husband couldn’t be more right.
* * *
If you’ve missed any of these romances in Jill Lynn’s Colorado Grooms series, go back and pick them up!
The Rancher’s Surprise Daughter (Cate & Luc)
The Rancher’s Unexpected Baby (Emma & Gage)
The Bull Rider’s Secret (Mackenzie & Jace)
Her Hidden Hope (Addie & Evan)
Raising Honor (Charlie & Ryker)
All available now from Love Inspired Books!
Keep reading for an excerpt from His Dry Creek Inheritance by Janet Tronstad.
Dear Reader,
I can’t believe this series has come to an end. It’s hard for me to let go of these characters I’ve grown to love. Thank you for reading and celebrating each book with me. Without you, I wouldn’t get to dream and make up stories, and for that I am so grateful. Throughout this series, there have been highs and lows, but God has been consistent every step of the way. He provided the words and the scenes, and I’m so grateful He carried these books through to completion.
My prayer for you (and me) is that we see God’s hand in our lives—even in the unexpected. Ivy’s journey was a complete surprise, and yet, she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be. May we all feel that peace and guidance in our own lives, too.
To keep up with book news or find my latest giveaway, head to Jill-Lynn.com/news. I’m also on Facebook.com/JillLynnAuthor and Instagram.com/JillLynnAuthor, and I would love to connect with you there.
Thank you for reading!
Jill Lynn
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Uplifting stories of faith, forgiveness and hope.
Fall in love with stories where faith helps guide you through life’s challenges, and discover the promise of a new beginning.
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
His Dry Creek Inheritance
by Janet Tronstad
Chapter One
An icy wind blew through the small town of Dry Creek, Montana, as Army Sergeant Mark Dakota pressed his black Stetson more securely on his head and braced himself with his metal cane. He was standing in front of the café and carefully leaned forward in hopes he could see through the window. Most of the glass was covered by a huge red poster advertising some Valentine event, but he could see around the sign well enough to know no one was inside the eatery. Except for his parked rental car, the street was empty.
The whole area looked deserted. Sitting on the wide-open plains of southeastern Montana, the scattering of buildings was eerily quiet despite the wind. Mark felt the same prickle of unease at the back of his neck that he’d had in Afghanistan several months ago, just before that roadside bomb exploded and tore his leg apart.
Suddenly, a dog barked and, without thinking, Mark threw himself to the ground.
“Uu
mph.” He felt the resulting agonized jolt of pain all the way from his hip to his toes.
“That was a mistake,” he muttered when he got his breath back. The doctors had cleared him to do routine physical activity, but this was over the line. He’d panicked.
Turning his head, Mark looked along the street and saw a brown mutt shoot out from behind a nearby house and come straight at him. By now, Mark knew that the dog’s bark hadn’t been a warning. This wasn’t a war zone. Mark wore his civilian jeans and his old winter coat. Besides, the dog looked like a harmless stray.
“Easy, boy.” The scruffy animal arrived and stood still. Then he eyed Mark, who was flat on the ground, carefully before crawling close enough to sniff at the soles of his worn boots.
“Good doggie,” Mark murmured as he raised himself up slightly on an elbow and patted the dog, feeling along its spine until he was satisfied that the mutt was not starving. The animal might not be a family pet, but it was fed well enough.
Mark figured that getting a few scraps was about as much as any stray—man or animal—could hope for in life. Using his cane, he struggled to his feet and watched the dog trot down the street again. That mutt reminded Mark of his place in life and he finally admitted to himself that he’d been a fool to come back here.
That letter his foster father Eli Rosen had written—the only one Mark had received from anyone in Dry Creek during the nine years he’d been in the army—demanded that he come home as quick as possible because Eli needed him. But Eli never needed anyone and, if he did, there was his real son, Junior. There probably wasn’t any brazen gold-digging woman out to steal the Rosen Ranch either. As for the closing paragraph where he called Mark his son, the less said about that the better.
Still, Mark admitted, those final words from Eli had been enough to bring him back here just as surely as that dog returned to the households that occasionally gave him a bone. Mark stood, letting the pain in his leg recede while the air grew colder. Finally the distant sound of people singing “Amazing Grace” floated down the street. It was Saturday morning, not Sunday, but everyone must be in the church.