by Jean Oram
Jackie raised her eyebrows at April. “Have fun with that rumor.”
There was a new one every hour, it felt like. At least they didn’t seem to freak out Brant, and luckily, so far his calmness was proving to be contagious. At this point, people were going to talk no matter what they did. And the truth was, she was doing what she wanted.
Once Jackie left, April locked the clinic door, flipping over the sign that said Closed for Lunch.
“Hungry?” Brant asked, appearing from the back. He was in jeans and an insulated navy vest with the clinic’s logo on the breast pocket. He looked so handsome, and she felt a jolt of pleasure remembering he was hers. All hers. Violet Granger, who’d given him flirtatious looks at New Year’s, could go find someone else. And even Daisy-Mae who’d been gushing over him could keep on looking for her own Mr. Right, because Brant Wylder, the sweetest man in Sweetheart Creek, was officially taken.
“I brought a lunch,” April said, moving past him on her way to the staff fridge in the back. He caught her in his arms, giving her a kiss.
“I was thinking the diner,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck and sending shivers down her back. “My treat.”
April wrinkled her nose and slid from his arms. Facing half the town in the diner wasn’t an appetizing idea. Too many rumors. Too much speculation. She was pretty sure nearly everyone had heard the news of their marriage by now—including Heath, although so far he hadn’t made a peep. It had been five days now, and as far as she knew, he was on the road again, leaving Kurt hanging.
She still needed to get her rodeo horse from the farm, but she had no plan to go over there anytime soon—even if Heath was away. Especially if what she and Brant had done had truly left Heath feeling spiteful, as Daisy-Mae had assumed. April didn’t want to see that side of Heath right now.
“We can’t hide out forever,” Brant warned.
“Yes, we can.”
He let out a huff of amusement. “Good luck with that.”
She headed to the fridge and pulled out her container of leftover casserole from last night. She’d offered Brant some for his lunch, but he said he’d bring something from the ranch, which was where he was still staying.
“Daisy-Mae left us a gift,” she stated.
Brant smiled. “That’s nice of her. What is it?”
“I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Waiting for me?” He tugged her away from the fridge, which sported Kurt’s Christmas painting, and wrapped his arms around her. “There were a lot of well-wishers in here all day yesterday, you know.”
“They’re confused over why you haven’t moved in yet.” Even Kurt was asking.
“I’ve had a lot of offers to help me move my stuff.” He was smiling, not at all fazed. “Don’t worry, April. We’ve set a date—I move in this weekend.”
“Our elopement looks impulsive.”
“It was.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I know, but…”
“Come on,” he coaxed, dropping his arms and gently grasping her hand. “The longer we put off facing the town again, the worse it’s going to feel when we finally do.”
April sighed. “Fine.”
They headed out the clinic’s back door to take a shortcut to Main Street and the Longhorn Diner. The January sunshine was bright, and they squinted after the building’s artificial light.
It was Tuesday, which meant the special was chicken potpie, one of Brant’s favorites. The thought put some pep in his step.
“Watch out, Bill’s on a rampage,” he cautioned, steering April onto the street half a block from the restaurant.
April looked over her shoulder, spotting Sweetheart Creek’s well-known armadillo, an ornery old coot of a mammal, ambling down the sidewalk. He was making awful sounds at anyone who dared cross his path today.
“I’m surprised someone hasn’t requested you relocate him,” April said, referring to Brant’s secondary job as one of the county’s animal control officers. Bill had a reputation for being a nuisance, and there had been mention of having him moved to some woods away from town.
“He has a drink named after him at the Watering Hole.” Brant gestured toward the weather-worn saloon on the opposite side of the road, as if that explained everything. “He’s practically our town mascot. There’s even talk of painting his picture on the Welcome sign.”
“You’re serious?”
“Word on the street is that he’ll be on it.” The town council had voted to refresh the town’s Welcome signs and include the fact that Sweetheart Creek was now home to a football state championship title.
“Well, then you definitely can’t relocate him.”
“Agreed.”
Brant placed a hand at April’s lower back to hurry her along as a truck rolled down the street. She hoped he found a reason to keep it there, finding his body heat warm and welcoming as it spread through her.
The driver, Travis Nestner, the town mayor, leaned out his window to say, “Happy New Year, y’all! And congratulations!”
“Back at you!” Brant called, as they both waved to him. “People are asking if we’re going to take a honeymoon,” he added in a low voice.
“They’re asking me if we have a gift registry.”
“So? Are we?”
“A honeymoon sounds expensive.”
“We could put it on our gift registry.”
April laughed before realizing he was serious.
“We rushed this so much,” she mused. “I don’t know what’s proper.” Nothing about their marriage felt real, and the idea of setting up a registry or planning a honeymoon felt strange.
“We may have rushed into things,” Brant admitted, his tone more serious, and April tensed. This was where he realized he was just helping out a friend, and broke up with her, wasn’t it? This was where everything turned into a colossal mess. He would leave her, and she would look like an impulsive fool who had subjected her son to unnecessary emotional trauma. Meanwhile, Brant would have a tarnished image of being played for a fool while trying to rescue another woman who didn’t want him. Even though he’d be the one cutting the cord this time, and she very much did want him.
“But as I said before, our marriage may have been spontaneous, but it’s not something I regret.” He stopped, waiting for her to face him.
Her chest flooded with relief.
“So what do we do?” she murmured.
“Stop thinking.” The tension in Brant’s features softened. He gently brushed her cheek with his thumb in a move so tender she relaxed. When she was with Brant, nothing else mattered.
“You’re going to have to kiss me to make that happen.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Well? Don’t keep me waiting, Wylder.”
“Agree to a honeymoon first.”
She almost laughed, her nervousness taking hold again. But looking into Brant’s steady, calm gaze, she knew she needed to let go of her fears and continue to follow his lead if she wanted any chance of making this elopement work like a real marriage.
With all the trimmings.
Brant waited at the back counter of the diner for their lunch order. April had been waylaid by a tableful of women, and he’d promised to put in their order with Mrs. Fisher, when they’d started talking about registries and such.
“Weren’t you just driving out of town?” Brant asked Travis Nestner as the mayor took the stool beside him.
“Yup. But thought I’d pop by and ask if you’ve put any more thought into joining that study on breeding schedules being run by the HCCC.”
The Hill Country Community College animal husbandry study. Right.
“April?” Brant called. “Can you help me out a minute?” Maybe he could use one of those coupons she’d given him at Christmas to escape this conversation. He hated to say no, but where was he going to find the time to do this—especially now that he had a marriage to build?
Daisy-Mae, who was sipping a coffee farther down the counter, drawle
d, “Honey, a woman needs longer than a minute. I dated a single dad once and know how it goes.” She muttered to herself, “Not doing that again.” Her voice became louder as she asked, “When are y’all going to take that honeymoon?”
April turned pink as she came to join them.
“I’d offer to take Kurt,” Daisy-Mae added, “but I know nothing about kids.”
“We haven’t planned anything yet,” April said, “but I’m sure when we do either Maria or Heath will take him.”
Daisy-Mae choked at hearing Heath’s name, but covered it quickly. “Let me know if y’all need anything.”
“He’s welcome to stay with us. We already have a zoo,” Travis said, referring to their triplets. “Another munchkin underfoot won’t drive us around the bend.”
“I couldn’t do that to you and Donna,” April said, nestling into Brant’s side as though she’d always belonged there. Without a second thought, he planted a kiss on the top of her head. She glanced up, her face open and happy. He could spend his entire afternoon here.
“Honestly, the distraction would be welcome. The girls are getting competitive about who gets the most attention from Donna and me.”
Brant edged April closer, warmed by the idea of a honeymoon and wishing the diner was the kind of place he could sweep her into a soulful kiss without causing a scene. “We should plan a getaway.”
April laughed nervously.
“It would be good for us.”
She met his gaze, and he could see her thinking that over.
“Before you get distracted,” Travis said to April, “can you convince this guy to join our study?”
“You think I have sway?” April pressed her hand against her chest and her eyebrows lifted. She had a lot more pull than Brant wanted to admit, and he had a feeling if these two ganged up on him he’d be joining the study that very afternoon.
“Levi’s already in, and it would be nice to have a veterinarian with some ranching experience on the panel. Levi said this study is an extension of what you’re already doing. Except, of course, you’d have some researchers, science and grants backing you.” Seeing that Brant still wasn’t convinced, Travis added, “It would be a meaningful way to contribute to local animal health.”
“I don’t have time,” Brant said, frowning. It was a long-term study, and the number of herds he’d have to check on wouldn’t be insignificant. “Sorry, Travis.”
“You have fewer chores on the ranch now that Cole’s back,” April said. And Levi hired Owen Lancaster to come help out since he and his dad had that falling out on their own ranch.”
Brant flashed her a dark look as thanks for her unwanted helpfulness. It was true Cole was working on fitting himself into the ranch duties once again, taking over chores and freeing up time for his brothers over the past two weeks. But would he stay long enough that Brant could rely on that newly freed-up time?
“I’m still running a clinic, as well as acting as the county’s animal control officer. Plus—” he snugged his arm around April’s shoulders, bringing her tight against him “—I’m a newlywed. I have marital duties.” He placed a kiss against April’s temple and enjoyed how her expression softened.
“Sounds like you might have excess energy and time to burn, seeing as you two aren’t living together yet.” Travis winked.
“I’m moving in on the weekend,” Brant said.
“The study will help more cattle than you can through the clinic,” April pointed out, and Brant frowned at her. “Don’t veterinarians sign an oath about helping animals?”
Brant chuckled at her argument. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Wouldn’t you want other ranchers using a system that’s better for their herds?”
Brant gave a shake of his head and looked to the heavens as though summoning help. “I’m only one man.”
“Come on, you know you want to,” Travis said. “The data and analysis will be specific to our region. It’ll be good for the town.”
“Trying to get reelected?”
April patted Brant’s chest. “My husband is all about what’s best for the herds. Whatever’s easiest on the calves and mothers, right, hon?” That was the first time she’d used a term of endearment, and he liked it. “I’m sure he truly doesn’t have the time to do that, or he’d say yes to saving more calves from summer birthing issues like dehydration, as well as preventing unnecessary difficult births.”
Brant’s unease grew, and he sighed at the way April was playing to his weakness. He dropped his arm, releasing her as she bent to pick up a fork that had fallen to the floor.
The beadwork on the back pockets on her jeans sparkled under the lights and her curves kept his attention until she straightened again. Oh, those curves.
“I’ll help Brant with the paperwork,” she said, rejoining them. “So you can scratch that argument.”
She was trying to get him to do something good to help any reputation damage she thought she might have caused, wasn’t she? She snuggled up to him again and the last of his resistance started to crumble.
“Brant?” He was pretty sure she was going to dangle a carrot in front of him, and that he was going to chomp on it.
“Hmm?”
“You need to say yes.” Her eyes were a soft blue, her lips delectable.
“Why?”
“Because if you do this…” Her hands had slipped around his waist and he felt the last shred of his resolve caving in like a muddy embankment during a flood. “…I’ll go on that honeymoon everyone’s nagging us about.”
Brant stared at her for a long moment. She was serious. A honeymoon.
He turned to Travis, his head swimming. “Looks like you need to send me the paperwork.”
It was Brant’s night to cook, but he’d been out on a call that had taken three hours longer than it should have. Meaning he was late. Very late. He floored the truck, heading into Sweetheart Creek. The sheriff, seeing him coming, flashed his lights in warning. Brant hit the brakes, slowing to under the speed limit as he coasted into town. He gave Conroy Johnson a sheepish wave, and the man grinned back. He lowered his window and leaned out to talk.
Brant groaned to himself and slowed to a stop, putting down his own window. He’d texted April to let her know he was running late, but didn’t want to try her patience this early in their marriage by stopping to gab with the sheriff. They were working on a routine where he’d come by after work and have supper, then spend the evening with her and Kurt. And before bed he’d head back to the ranch. In the mornings he’d do chores and meet April at the clinic if it was her day to work. It was nice, but he still couldn’t wait for the day that he woke up beside her—or at least in the same house. He just had to hang in there a few more days and he’d soon be sharing the same roof. He’d already packed up most of his stuff, and Saturday morning—moving day—couldn’t come soon enough.
“In a hurry to get home to the missus?”
Brant swallowed. If only he was in a rush the way the sheriff thought he was. “Sure am.”
Johnson twisted his wrist, checking his watch. “Better hurry. You’re gonna be late for supper.” Before Brant could go, he said, “Here’s a nickel’s worth of free advice I give all new husbands. Ready for it?”
Brant nodded.
“Never be late for supper. Ever.” His tone hinted at the wrath he must have faced from Mrs. Johnson early in his own marriage.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“You’re welcome. Now you’d best be getting along. Don’t keep her waiting. Your mama raised her, and she’s as likely to take you by the ear as Maria would.”
Brant chuckled at the thought.
“Need any help moving on Saturday?”
“I think I’m about set, thanks.” With a tip of his hat, Brant drove off. He took the second turn off Main and headed toward April’s place, glad he’d soon be referring to it as home.
Travis had already sent him information on the college’s study, and more si
gn-up paperwork than Brant had believed possible. He’d completed it all, meaning it was time to plan that honeymoon.
He parked in front of the house, hopped out and hurried up the front walk. He hit the doorbell before letting himself in.
“You don’t have to ring the bell, silly,” April said with a laugh, coming to greet him. He slipped an arm around her waist, then pulled her close for a hello kiss that quickly turned deeper and longer.
They really needed to take a honeymoon.
“Daddy Brant!” Kurt said, running to him, breaking up the kiss. Brant released April and bent to hug the little boy, who clung to him like a monkey as he straightened, lifting him in the process.
April faced Brant with crossed arms as he listened to an account of Kurt’s day, finally lowering the boy, who ran off to play in his backyard fort under the floodlight Brant had set up for him.
“I thought you were cooking tonight?” April asked.
“I am.” He glanced at the small clock she’d hung by the door. It was shaped like Kurt’s favorite cartoon character, and for his benefit had sticky notes stuck to the hand positions for their morning departure time, to help Kurt arrive promptly at day care. Too bad it hadn’t helped Brant arrive on time tonight.
April walked to him, slid her hands over his shoulders, plucked off his hat and then hung it on the hook beside the door. “Are you trying to get out of cooking?”
His palms found their favorite spot on her waist. “What do you say we head over to the diner?”
“You and I are eating out tomorrow night and the next night.”
Date nights. Finally. It had been a busy week, but for whatever reason that had only served to make the days go by slower.
“Eat out!” Kurt hollered in excitement. He came sliding back into the entryway, scooting onto his butt. He had his cowboy boots on in record time, his purple unicorn from Carmichael tucked under his arm.
“I thought you were playing outside?” April asked him.
“I had to pee.”
Brant raised his eyebrows at April with a smile and reached for his hat. “Looks like we’re eating out tonight, too.”
“This doesn’t count as you cooking,” April scolded lightly.