One Night with the Cowboy

by Brenda Harlen

  Still, she didn’t know how they’d feel to discover that their grandson had taken up with “that Blake girl” again. But if Evelyn thought it strange that her grandson had invited Brielle to visit him at the ranch, she didn’t say so. In fact, she wasn’t anything but warm and welcoming when she greeted them at the door, and conversation flowed easily around the table during the shared meal.

  “Everything was delicious,” Brie said, as she began to load plates into the dishwasher.

  “My pot roast has always been one of Caleb’s favorites,” Evelyn told her. “I’d be happy to share the recipe, if you want it.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “And for letting me come to dinner tonight.”

  “You’re welcome anytime,” the other woman said.

  Brie felt herself unexpectedly fighting back tears. “That’s very kind...considering.”

  “Considering what?” Evelyn asked.

  “The history between our families. And between me and Caleb.”

  “One of the most important lessons we can learn from history is not to repeat the mistakes of the past.”

  Brie felt her stomach tighten as she dropped the cutlery into the basket. “You don’t think Caleb and I should be together?”

  “That’s not what I meant at all,” Evelyn immediately assured her. “The mistake I was referring to was letting other people interfere in your relationship.”

  “Oh.” She quietly exhaled a deep breath.

  “And at the risk of sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, I have to ask—when’s the baby due?”

  She bobbled the plate in her hands. “Caleb told you?”

  His grandmother shook her head. “He didn’t have to. I had three babies of my own. Five pregnancies...but only three babies.”

  Brie was surprised not only by the confession but by Evelyn’s willingness to share it with her. “You had two miscarriages?”

  “One between each of my babies.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brie said sincerely.

  “My doctor assured me it wasn’t anything I’d done or didn’t do, that sometimes babies aren’t meant to be born. Of course, that didn’t stop me from worrying, with each successive pregnancy, that something might go wrong again.”

  Brie nodded in understanding.

  “It’s a natural fear, especially for a woman who’s been through it before,” Evelyn said sympathetically. “But hopefully the joy and wonder of a new life are stronger than the fear.”

  “A little more so now that I’ve passed the first trimester,” she said. “The baby’s due the end of May.”

  “I guess that gives you some time, then, to work out the logistics of co-parenting twenty-five hundred miles apart.”

  Again, the older woman had surprised her. “You’re not going to tell me that I should move back to Haven?”

  “I’m trying not to interfere,” Evelyn reminded her.

  Which Brie appreciated. But Caleb’s grandmother was the first person who hadn’t immediately tried to tell her what to do, as if Brie wasn’t capable of making up her own mind. Except that with so many people expressing differing opinions, she was having trouble sorting through all the noise to know what was in her mind and her heart. “What if I asked for your advice?”

  “In that case, I’d find it hard to bite my tongue,” Evelyn admitted. “But I really think this is something you and Caleb need to determine for yourselves.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ben and Margaret’s cook had prepared a feast for the midday Thanksgiving meal at Miners’ Pass, and four leaves had been added to the dining room table to comfortably seat all the guests, including two high chairs for Piper and Poppy. Of course, Owen and Lucy were too young to sit up at the table, so they stayed in their respective baby carriers—within view of their doting parents.

  Seven months earlier, at a slightly smaller family gathering, Kenzie and Spencer had announced they were expanding their family. That had been followed by Alyssa and Jason sharing the news that they were expecting, too—then hugs and tears and congratulations all around the table. Brie wasn’t anticipating the same fanfare when she and Caleb revealed that they were going to have a baby, so she wasn’t disappointed.

  Her parents didn’t call for champagne, perhaps because they remembered that pregnant women shouldn’t have alcohol. But Ben did lift his wine glass in a toast to the expectant parents. He even sounded sincere when he said he was looking forward to future celebrations with more grandchildren around the table. True, that was a rather generic remark, but at least the sentiment was positive. And Margaret managed to curve her lips into some semblance of a smile before she downed the contents of her glass before quickly refilling it.

  But Brie’s sister and sisters-in-law offered warm and heartfelt congratulations—and teasingly promised to inundate her with all kinds of unwelcome advice and birthing horror stories over the next several months. Her brothers and brother-in-law took their cues from their wives, and though their best wishes were admittedly low-key, she was relieved that they didn’t want to discuss the situation outside with Caleb.

  Gramps said nothing at all, which was probably for the best. Because Brie knew she wouldn’t ever forgive him if he again suggested her baby was a mistake.

  They skipped out before dessert and coffee to be at the Circle G when dinner was served. Their news received a slightly warmer response at the Gilmore table. Dave seemed pleased that he had another grandchild on the way, Jack and Evelyn were sincerely thrilled, and Caleb’s siblings said all the right things.

  When Brie and Caleb finally got back to his place at the end of the day, she was relieved the big reveal was over—and exhausted. Of course, she knew it wasn’t really over. The news of her pregnancy would spread like wildfire, and anyone and everyone she crossed paths with in town would have an opinion—and not hesitate to express it.

  Thankfully, she had no need to go into town. Although on Friday, she borrowed Caleb’s Jeep and drove over to Crooked Creek to visit with her friend/sister-in-law and steal some cuddles with Kenzie and Spencer’s new baby. She’d been introduced to her nephew at Miners’ Pass the day before, but there had been so many people around, she hadn’t had much time to fuss over the new addition or catch up with her friend.

  As soon as Kenzie finished nursing and burping the infant, she passed him to his aunt. Brie snuggled him close and breathed in the sweet scent of baby shampoo.

  “He’s absolutely perfect,” she said, blinking away the moisture that filled her eyes.

  “I think so,” the new mom agreed proudly. “But I’m not exactly unbiased.”

  He was also a perfect blend of each of his parents, which made Brie wonder what her child would look like when he or she was born, what features he would inherit from Caleb’s DNA and which would reflect her own. And though she knew the baby in her womb was still only the size of a peach, she was eager to hold him or her in her arms as she was holding Owen right now.

  “He’s got your mouth and chin and Spencer’s eyes,” she remarked.

  “And Dani’s nose,” Kenzie added, as the little girl skipped into the room.

  “He is almost as adorable as his big sister,” Brie said, with a wink for her niece as Dani climbed up onto the sofa.

  “You mean the big sister who’s already tried to trade her baby brother away?” Kenzie asked.

  Brie fought against the smile that tugged at her lips and turned to the little girl who’d snuggled up on her other side. “Did you try to swap babies with Aunt Alyssa?”

  “I wanted a sister,” Dani reminded the adults present.

  “And you got a brother instead,” Kenzie acknowledged.

  Her daughter folded her arms over her chest and thrust her lower lip forward in a pout. “And Daddy said ‘Suck it up, buttercup.’”

  “That sounds like something my brother would say,”
Brie admitted.

  The little girl tilted her head to gaze quizzically at Brie. “Who’s your brother?” she asked, obviously struggling to wrap her head around the sibling relationships of the adults in her world.

  “I have two brothers—your daddy and your uncle Jason, and one sister—Aunt Regan.”

  Dani took another minute to think about this revelation, then turned to her mom. “So I can still get a sister someday?” she asked hopefully.

  “Maybe,” Kenzie said cautiously. “Let’s see how we make out with this baby before we think about another one.”

  Brie winked at her niece again. “I’m sure Dani will be such an awesome big sister to Owen that you’ll definitely want another one. Or two.”

  Kenzie slid her friend a look that warned she wasn’t amused. “But right now, I want Dani to get ready for her riding lesson,” she said, eager to move away from the topic of future babies.

  “Okay.” Always happy for the opportunity to ride Daisy—the pony that had been a birthday gift from her grandparents—Dani hopped down off the sofa. But before she went to do her mother’s bidding, she turned around and touched her lips to the sleeping baby’s cheek.

  The gesture was spontaneous and sweet, and Brie’s eyes went misty again. “See? She’s already an awesome big sister,” she pointed out to her friend.

  “She tried to trade her little brother away,” Kenzie said again.

  “I’m sure she’s not the first sister to do so. Although I can understand why, after working so hard to bring this beautiful little guy into the world, you might not see the humor in the situation.”

  “Suffice it to say, I understand why they call it labor.”

  “Alyssa said something similar yesterday,” Brie remarked, tongue-in-cheek.

  “I can only imagine how much she suffered during those four hours of labor,” Kenzie replied dryly. “Honestly, if I didn’t love her so much, I’d hate her.”

  Brie laughed at that.

  “And I know I said it yesterday, but congratulations,” Kenzie said again. “I’m really happy for you and Caleb.”

  “Thanks,” Brie replied, grateful not just for the words but also her friend’s sincerity.

  “So...does this mean you’re back together?”

  “The only thing I know for sure right now is that we’re having a baby together.”

  “Together but twenty-five hundred miles apart?” her friend asked skeptically.

  Brie sighed, but was saved from answering when Dani bounced into the room wearing adorable pink cowboy boots on her feet and a matching pink cowboy hat on her head.

  “I’m ready!” she announced.

  “Coat?” her mother prompted.

  The little girl bounced out of the room again.

  Since she knew that her grandfather would be in the barn preparing for Dani’s riding lesson, Brie decided it was the perfect opportunity to corner him for a long-overdue conversation. So she returned the sleeping baby to his mother and went to find the cranky old man.

  The barn door slid smoothly, making no sound as it opened and closed. But Gramps must have felt the change in temperature as a blast of cold air came in with her, because he turned to the door.

  His brows knitted together in a frown. “What are you doin’ here?”

  “Mom thinks we should talk,” she told him.

  “Your mom has a lot of opinions,” he remarked, as he guided Dani’s pony out of its stall.

  “Maybe she’s right about this.”

  He shrugged. “You wanna talk? I’m listening.”

  “I want to have a conversation,” she said. “That requires each of us to talk, and each of us to listen.”

  He finished saddling Daisy before turning around. “And then are you gonna forgive me?”

  “If you want forgiveness, you might try apologizing,” she suggested.

  “You want me to apologize for havin’ a heart attack?”

  “No, I want you to apologize for using your heart attack to manipulate me when I was in a fragile emotional state.”

  “I only ever wanted what’s best for you.”

  “That doesn’t sound like an apology to me,” she noted.

  He sighed heavily. “I don’t like the way things have been—this distance between us.”

  She heard the weariness in his tone, and the sincerity, but she refused to be manipulated again. “Still not an apology.”

  He huffed out a breath. “I’m not gonna apologize for believin’ you could do better than a thievin’ Gilmore.”

  Not that Caleb had ever stolen anything—other than her heart—but to her grandfather, all the Gilmores were thieves because they’d taken the best land for their cattle, leaving the Blakes to struggle before gold and silver were discovered in their hills.

  “I was in love with Caleb,” she told him now.

  “You were eighteen,” he said dismissively. “You didn’t know what love was.”

  “Yes, we were young,” she agreed. “And yes, getting pregnant was irresponsible and rushing off to Vegas to get married was impulsive, but our feelings for one another were real.”

  “If that’s true, why’d you run off to New York only a few weeks later?” he challenged.

  “Because it hurt too much to stay,” she confided.

  “Because he hurt you,” Gramps said accusingly.

  “Because everything hurt. But leaving didn’t mean I stopped loving him. And I still love him,” she said, imploring him to understand. “And despite the nasty things you said when you found out I’d married him, Gramps, I still love you, too.”

  He opened his mouth, as if there was something he wanted to say, then closed it again and turned away.

  * * *

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Brie snuggled deeper under the covers of Caleb’s enormous bed. “Can’t I stay here all day today? Please.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “We’ve got other plans.”

  “This is payback, isn’t it? I dragged you all over Manhattan when you came to visit me, so you’re not going to let me have a moment of peace while I’m here.”

  “Actually, I’m dragging you away from here to guarantee that we’ll have some peace.”

  She pulled the covers away from her face. “Tell me more.”

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know—after you get your butt out of bed and get dressed.”

  So she did, then followed the smell of coffee down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Caleb was packing containers and drinks into an insulated bag.

  “You made lunch?”

  “Actually, my grandmother made it for us. Leftover turkey sandwiches, coleslaw and pumpkin pie.”

  “Yum.” She immediately reached for a container of pie—and had her hand slapped away. “Hey.”

  “It’s for lunch,” he reminded her.

  “But I’m hungry now,” she protested.

  “Have a muffin.”

  Pouting just a little, she reached into the basket on the counter. “They’re still warm.”

  “Fresh out of the oven,” he told her.

  “Your grandmother again?” she guessed.

  He nodded.

  She bit into the muffin, sighed with pleasure. He half filled a travel mug with coffee for her, then topped it up with a generous splash of milk. Per the doctor’s suggestion, she’d cut down on her caffeine consumption but still indulged in a single cup in the morning.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and grabbed a second muffin.

  “So where are we going?” she asked, when Caleb had stored the food in the backseat of the Jeep and slid behind the wheel.

  “To the cabin.”

  “At Crooked Creek?”

  He nodded.

  “You’re going to trespass
on Blake property?”

  “It’s only trespassing if you get caught.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true,” she cautioned. “You should probably check with your sister about the legal definition of that—preferably before my grandfather shows up with a shotgun.”

  “I don’t think your grandfather ventures that far out anymore.”

  “I hope not,” she said.

  It took them fifteen minutes to drive to the fence that marked the boundary between the properties, and another five minutes, after they’d climbed over the barrier, to hike to the cabin.

  The frigid air felt even colder with the wind that blew across the open field, and they were almost at their destination when Caleb realized he’d forgotten their lunch. He sent Brie on ahead to the shelter while he went back for it.

  She found the key where it had always been kept—tucked in a slot under the window by the front door. After unlocking the cabin, she stomped her feet on the mat to knock the snow off her boots and stuffed her mittens into the pockets of her jacket.

  The simple box-like structure wasn’t just rustic but primitive, without any electricity or heat, so she unzipped her coat but kept it on for now. The overcast day didn’t provide much light to illuminate the interior of the cabin, but she knew there would be a kerosene lamp on the counter with a box of matches beside it. She quickly found both and lit the lamp.

  She’d been a little apprehensive when Caleb had mentioned the cabin, unable to predict how she’d feel to return to the place where they’d spent so much time together in the past. And she braced herself for the assault of memories as she looked around the room.

  The wood table, scarred from years of use, had been built by her great-great-grandfather as a wedding gift for his bride. Years later, when they’d replaced the set with something fancier and more expensive, his table and chairs—there had been four that matched it—were moved into the cabin.

  Rumor had it that a couple of ranch hands, stranded for nearly a week by a raging blizzard, had broken down three of the chairs for firewood when their supply had run out. The single ladder-back that remained was flanked now by a paint-splattered Windsor style chair on one side and one that looked like a reject from a ’50s diner on the other.