One Night with the Cowboy

by Brenda Harlen

  “Things were a lot simpler when Gilmores and Blakes stayed on opposite sides of Crooked Creek,” Dave grumbled.

  “I love Brielle,” Caleb said. “I’ve always loved her. And we both want this baby.”

  His father’s sigh was more resigned than unhappy. “Then I’ll say congratulations, Daddy.”

  Hearing the word aloud made his heart swell inside his chest. “Just say it quietly, Grandpa,” he cautioned. “Brie will have my head if her parents hear about the baby at The Daily Grind.”

  * * *

  When her sister called Tuesday night, Brie was grateful for the distraction. Since she’d said goodbye to Caleb two days earlier, she’d spent far too much time thinking about him, twenty-five hundred miles away, and wondering if they were fooling themselves by imagining there was a way to bridge what was more than a physical distance between them.

  “What’s up?” she asked, when her sister’s face appeared on the screen.

  Happiness radiated from Regan’s smile. “Poppy rolled over,” she said proudly.

  “That’s great,” Brie replied, because the excitement in her sister’s voice suggested the news was cause for celebration. “But wasn’t she doing that last week?”

  “Front to back,” her sister confirmed. “But now she’s also rolling back to front.”

  “Oh.”

  “She was on her baby quilt on the floor and rolled from one side all the way to the other—where she bumped into her sister. Piper was not impressed.”

  Brie laughed. “What are they doing now?”

  “Sleeping,” Regan said. “It’s the only time I can take my eyes off them for a second.”

  “I want to see them,” she said. “I bet they’re getting so big.”

  “Still small for five months, but that’s not unusual with twins.”

  Brie could tell that her sister was moving now, taking her phone into the girls’ room to accede to their aunt’s request. Regan passed the camera over one crib, then the next.

  “Oh, they are so sweet. And I miss them so much,” Brie whispered to ensure she didn’t wake her adorable nieces.

  “We miss you, too,” Regan whispered back, as she tiptoed out of the room again.

  “So other than the girls’ honing their motor skills, what’s going on?” Brie wanted to know.

  “Well, since you asked... When I was at The Daily Grind yesterday, I heard that Caleb Gilmore recently returned from a trip to New York City.”

  “That’s...interesting,” she said. And surprising, because for the past seven years, her sister had mostly honored Brie’s unspoken request not to hear his name mentioned. “But since when do you pay any attention to gossip at The Daily Grind?”

  “When I think it might have something to do with you,” her sister said.

  “You think Caleb came to New York to see me?”

  “Did he?” Regan asked, knowing Brie would have trouble skirting a direct question.

  “Okay, yes,” she finally said. “He was here to see me.”

  “Out of the blue, after seven years?”

  “Not exactly out of the blue.”

  “I need more than that,” her sister told her.

  “Do you remember me telling you that I was in Vegas for Grace’s birthday at the end of August?” Brie asked.

  “Of course. And I remember giving you a hard time about being so close and not coming to see me,” Regan said.

  “Well, as it turns out, Caleb was in Vegas that weekend, too, and we...reconnected.”

  “You mean you slept with him,” her sister guessed.

  “We had a drink together, and then dinner and...yes,” Brie admitted.

  Regan looked worried. “And now you two are trying to make a long-distance relationship work?”

  “We’ve got some things to figure out.”

  “Let me save you some time—long-distance relationships don’t work,” her sister said.

  “I probably shouldn’t have said anything,” Brie acknowledged. “But I actually thought my sister might be supportive.”

  “I want you to be happy,” Regan said. “I just don’t know that Caleb Gilmore can make you happy.”

  “I’ve never been happy with anyone else,” she confided.

  Her sister sighed. “I stand by my concerns about long-distance relationships. So if you really want things to work with Caleb this time, you should come home and give it your best shot.”

  “You just want me to come home so I’m close enough to help with Piper and Poppy,” she teased.

  “I want you to come home because I’ve missed you,” Regan said. “Because we’ve all missed you.”

  It was only after they’d said their goodbyes and ended the call that Brie realized she hadn’t corrected her sister when Regan referred to Haven as “home.” Usually Brie was quick to remind her friends and family that she lived in New York now, but maybe it was true that home is where the heart is...

  And maybe her heart had always been with Caleb.

  * * *

  “There’s still more than a week before Halloween and the kids are already bouncing off the walls,” Brie complained to Caleb during one of their late-night conversations two weeks after his impulsive visit to New York.

  He chuckled. “I imagine it’s even worse after the thirty-first, when they’re on a sugar high from eating all the candy they got trick-or-treating.”

  “You’d be right,” she confirmed.

  “How are things otherwise?” he asked.

  “I had an appointment with my doctor yesterday.”

  Though her tone was casual, the mention of “doctor” was enough to bring back memories of Lily’s frantic call and his own worry and panic. “Is everything okay?”

  “It was just a routine checkup,” she was quick to reassure him. “And yes, so far so good.”

  The knotted muscles in his stomach began to loosen. “That’s great.”

  “The doctor scheduled an ultrasound—also routine,” she hastened to add. “And maybe it’s crazy to even mention this to you but, since it will be a first look at our baby, I thought I’d let you know in case you wanted to be there.”

  He didn’t remind her that he was twenty-five hundred miles away or reference the cost of a flight halfway across the country or even point out that he’d already made the trip twice in the past six weeks, because of course he wanted to be there. Instead he asked, “When?”

  “November sixth.”

  “I’ll be there,” he promised.

  * * *

  “Look at you,” Grace teased, watching Brie turn chicken in a pan on the stove. “The doting wife preparing dinner for her husband.”

  “There are four chicken breasts here,” Brie pointed out to her friend. “If you can refrain from making any more snarky comments, I might feed you and Lily, too.”

  Grace surveyed the ingredients on the counter. “Chicken Parisienne?” she guessed.

  Brie nodded.

  “I can refrain from snarky comments,” her friend promised. “I can even slice the mushrooms, if you want.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  “What time is Caleb’s flight getting in?”

  “It was scheduled to arrive at 4:49,” Brie told her. “But there was some kind of delay in Phoenix and now his plane isn’t supposed to land until 8:16.”

  And although she knew the flight delay was completely out of his control, she was still disappointed. She’d been looking forward to this visit since he’d agreed to come to New York for the ultrasound and practically counting the hours since he’d sent her the original flight info.

  “So why are you making dinner now?” Grace wondered.

  “Because I’d already started before I thought to check the flight status. And because I didn’t want you and Lily to starve waiting for him
to get here.”

  “You don’t need to worry about us,” her friend said.

  “I know. But it’s rare for you to actually be home in time for dinner and I wanted to make a nice meal for all of us, to thank you guys for being so supportive about the baby.”

  “Are you kidding? We’re thrilled to be honorary aunts—and secretly competing for the role of godmother.”

  “Yeah, covert ops are not really your strong suit,” Brie noted dryly.

  “But I’ll be a kickass godmother,” Grace promised.

  Brie laughed as she mixed the wine into the chicken broth.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Caleb said, when he finally showed up at nearly eleven o’clock.

  “It’s not your fault your flight was delayed.”

  For more than five hours.

  “Did they say what the problem was?” she asked.

  “There was some vague mention of a mechanical issue that they promised would be a quick fix, but apparently it wasn’t, because they ended up bringing in another plane.”

  “You must be starving,” she said.

  But he shook his head. “I ate at the airport, since I didn’t have anything else to do.”

  Which made sense, and she shouldn’t be disappointed because he wasn’t hungry for the meal she’d cooked. The chicken was probably dry now, anyway.

  “Tired?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Let’s go to bed.”

  The words were music to Caleb’s ears.

  Because more than he wanted to collapse on top of a mattress, he wanted to hold her in his arms. Yes, the delays at the airport had been frustrating, because there was nothing he hated more than sitting around and twiddling his thumbs.

  Several other passengers, informed of the delay, had pulled out their electronic devices to carry on with business as usual. A rancher couldn’t fix fence with his smartphone or water his cows remotely, but there were enough other hands at the Circle G to ensure all the chores were covered in his absence.

  His bigger concern and focus had been Brielle. Because every hour that he was stuck on the ground in Phoenix was another hour that he wasn’t with her.

  But now, finally, he was here.

  And she was in his arms.

  And the five-hour delay was forgotten.

  * * *

  Brie woke up before her alarm and reached out to shut it off so it wouldn’t disturb Caleb.

  They’d snuck around often enough when they were younger, but the night in Vegas was the first that they’d actually slept together. Well, aside from the one time they’d fallen asleep after making love in the cabin—then awakened in a panic when they realized they’d fallen asleep. Thankfully, their nap had been of short duration, and they’d hastily dressed and returned to their respective homes before anyone discovered they were missing or suspected they were together.

  So when he shared her bed on his last visit, Brie had been happy to discover that while he tended to gravitate toward the center of the mattress, he didn’t shove her out of the way but held her close. An added bonus was that she didn’t need any covers, because his body gave off so much heat she would never feel cold.

  Snuggled in his arms now, she realized how empty her life had been without him in it. So why wasn’t she already making plans to move back to Haven? Did her job and her friends in New York really mean more to her than the opportunity to share the joys and responsibilities of parenthood with her baby’s father? Or was it fear of loving him again—and risking her heart again—that made her wary of leaving the comforting embrace of the friends who’d helped her put the broken pieces back together?

  Because lingering in bed wasn’t giving her the answers to any of these questions, she pushed her worries aside and slid out of bed.

  * * *

  Since the ultrasound wasn’t scheduled until the afternoon and Brie had already taken several personal days, she went to school in the morning, promising Caleb that she’d be back by noon. And since that was lunch time, he decided to surprise her by preparing the meal. Not that he planned anything fancy, but he figured he could throw some sandwiches together—so long as there was more than one slice of bread in the cupboard.

  After confirming there was half a loaf, he looked in the fridge to see what other ingredients he might have to work with—and found a baking pan with two chicken breasts in some kind of mushroom sauce. A much more appealing option than sandwiches, he decided. And crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t be stealing anyone’s dinner, he put the pan in the oven.

  “You found the chicken,” she noted as he dished it up alongside the leftover rice.

  “You cooked this for me,” he realized. “For dinner last night.”

  “You were coming all this way—I figured the least I could do was feed you.”

  “And then I wasn’t hungry.”

  “You had a long, crappy day,” she acknowledged.

  “And crappy airport food for dinner,” he told her. “This is much better.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “So I guess you really have learned to cook,” he teased, when they were on their way to the prenatal clinic.

  “Well enough that I don’t starve,” she told him.

  “I think you’re being modest.”

  “Not really,” she said. “The chicken Parisienne is one of my favorite recipes because it always turns out well. Even overcooked, the sauce prevents it from tasting too dry.”

  “What else do you make?”

  “Penne with sausage and peppers, and a pretty decent maple-glazed pork roast.”

  “Mmm, they all sound good,” he said. “Although as a cattle rancher, I couldn’t help but notice that none of those meals was beef.”

  She laughed softly. “I like a nice juicy steak as much as the next person. I just prefer to order it off a menu in a restaurant.”

  “We’ll have to try to sneak away to The Home Station when you’re in Haven at Thanksgiving,” he said. “The Circle G is the exclusive supplier of beef for their menu.”

  “If we’re serious about having Thanksgiving with both my family and yours, that’s probably more food than I want to eat over one weekend.”

  “But you’re eating for two,” he reminded her.

  “My doctor said that’s a fallacy,” she admitted, pouting just a little. “She also said that while the occasional bowl of ice cream is okay, what I really need to be eating more of is fruits and vegetables.”

  “Clearly, your doctor’s a spoilsport,” he noted, as they entered the clinic.

  She smiled at his response and handed her insurance card to the receptionist.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked, as she sat down beside him in the waiting area.

  “A little,” she said. “More excited, though, to finally see our baby.”

  “Do you really think we’re going to be able to see much today?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” she reminded him. “Why do you sound so skeptical?”

  “Because nobody looking at you would even suspect you’re pregnant,” he pointed out.

  “They’d suspect it if they heard me throwing up.”

  “You’ve had morning sickness?” He recalled her mentioning some nausea, but feeling sick wasn’t the same thing as being sick.

  “Occasionally,” she said. “And not always in the morning.”

  “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

  “There was no reason for you to know. Nothing you could do.”

  Unfortunately, that was true. He couldn’t even be there to offer her saltine crackers or flat ginger ale, or to hold her hair back while she leaned over the toilet.

  “I hate that you’re going through this on your own,” he told her.

  “Are you kidding? I’m hardly ever alon
e—Grace and Lily are driving me insane with their hovering.”

  “But it should be me,” he insisted. “I’m the father.”

  “You can hover till your heart’s content over the next few days,” she promised.

  Her teasing remark was no consolation to him, because a few days here and there couldn’t begin to make up for the weeks and months that they were apart.

  “We really need to figure out this distance thing,” he said.

  “What’s to figure out?” she asked, a little defensively.

  He didn’t want to upset her, but they needed to face facts. “We can’t raise this baby together if we’re living twenty-five hundred miles apart.”

  “We’ve still got more than six months until the baby’s due.”

  “Which seems like a long time now,” he noted. “But we can’t keep putting off these conversations.”

  Her silence suggested otherwise.

  “Do you realize that it took three connections and fourteen hours for me to get here yesterday?”

  “I know it’s not a quick or easy trip,” she acknowledged. “That’s why I told you that you didn’t have to come.”

  “I wanted to be here with you,” he said. “But the delays made me realize that if I’m in Nevada and you’re in New York when you go into labor, I won’t get here in time for the birth.”

  “Do you want me to promise to wait for you? Because I’m not sure that’s a promise I’d be able to keep.”

  “I know,” he admitted. “So I guess I’d better not be twenty-five hundred miles away when you go into labor.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  They didn’t wait much longer before Brielle was called into an exam room. As instructed by the technician, she climbed onto the table, pushed the waistband of her leggings down to her hips and pulled her shirt up to the bottom of her ribcage. Caleb took a seat on the stool behind her as the tech squirted warm gel on the expectant mom’s belly and spread it around with a transducer that would send out and receive sound waves, translating them into an image on the screen.