Leaning her head back, she looked at him with starry eyes. “Children? As in plural?”
He chuckled. “You don’t think we’ll stop with one, do you? We have a long ways to go to catch up with the Hollisters.”
Fetching the ring from his pocket, he slipped it onto her finger, then placed a soft, promising kiss upon her lips.
“Let’s go tell everyone our happy news,” he said.
She reached for his hand and just as they turned to walk back to the house, she began to laugh.
Pausing, Taggart asked, “What now?”
“I caught Camille’s bridal bouquet at her and Matthew’s wedding and ever since she’s been predicting that I’d be getting married soon,” Emily-Ann explained. “I’ll never hear the end of this. She’ll swear that the bouquet brought us together.”
Laughing, Taggart tugged her on toward the house. “Come on, I’m going to go thank her for not throwing those flowers to anyone else but you.”
Epilogue
On the last Saturday in June, the hot Arizona sun dipped behind a ridge of red, rocky bluff to spread a spectacular sunset of pink and gold over the huge crowd that had gathered at the Bar X to watch Gabby Townsend and Sam Leman exchange their vows of love.
The wedding ceremony was the second one Emily-Ann and Taggart had attended in the past three weeks, the first one being their own. Which had been a simple, yet elegant ceremony the Hollisters had given them at Three Rivers Ranch.
However, this wedding was far different from Emily-Ann and Taggart’s. This event could only be described as a whopper of a shindig. People from every corner of Yavapai County and beyond had come to help the newlyweds celebrate. Now that the pastor had introduced the old foreman and the pretty artist as man and wife, the reception was in full swing. Champagne corks were popping in all directions and live music floated across the rapidly cooling air.
Joseph and Tessa had gone all out to help give their devoted foreman a wedding to remember. The backyard had been set up with rows of tables decorated with flowers and loaded with food and drinks of all kinds. Paper lanterns had been strung from tree limbs and crisscrossed the wide parquet dance floor. Folding chairs, along with bales of hay, were grouped strategically away from the dancing area for those guests who chose to sit rather than stretch their legs to the music.
“This isn’t the sort of music I would’ve expected to hear at a ranch wedding,” Taggart said, as he twirled Emily-Ann across the makeshift dance floor.
“Sam and Gabby wanted to dance to standards, so Isabelle searched until she found a band from Phoenix who could play them well. Personally, I love it,” she said, her eyes twinkling up at him. “It’s very romantic. Especially when I’m dancing with my handsome husband.”
Smiling he rubbed his nose against her forehead. “My beautiful wife will always be a romantic. I just feel bad that you didn’t have this big of a wedding.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I didn’t want the whole county at our wedding! Besides, we were in a hurry and Maureen and Camille and Isabelle rushed like crazy to get our ceremony pulled off. It was beautiful and I have a stack of photos to prove it.”
“I don’t need a photo to remember how you looked that day,” he whispered near her ear. “You were a heavenly dream in your long ivory dress and tiny flowers pinned in your hair. Come to think of it, you look mighty heavenly right now.”
“It’s the extra hormones from being pregnant. Camille says it makes us glow,” she said with an impish grin, then added with a wistful sigh, “I wish she and Matthew could’ve been here tonight. They were planning to come, you know. But her doctor advised against it. The baby could come at any time.”
“I’m sure they’re thinking about everyone.” The song came to an end and Taggart led Emily-Ann off the platform. “Let’s go have some punch. We’ll dance again in a few minutes. I don’t want to wear you out.”
“Something to drink sounds good,” she agreed.
The two of them made their way to one of the quieter tables set up near a pair of Joshua trees. Once there, Taggart filled two glass cups with punch and handed one of them to Emily-Ann.
As he sipped the fruity drink, his gaze drifted over the heads of the guests to where Gabby and Sam were being monopolized by well-wishers. “The music isn’t the only thing that’s surprised me this evening,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see Sam in a Western-cut suit. He looks downright dignified.”
Emily-Ann nodded. “Very handsome for a man of his age,” she agreed. “And the way he looks at Gabby—it’s obvious he adores her. And she gazes at Sam—well, like he hung the moon just for her. It’s an inspiration seeing them together.”
He cast a wry glance at his wife. “Well, there’s another couple here tonight that looks to me like they’re very much in love.”
Moving closer, she slipped an arm around the back of his waist. “You mean us?”
Taggart tightened his hold on her waist while thinking it was indecent to feel this happy. Being married to Emily-Ann and sharing their home together on Three Rivers Ranch was like finding heaven on earth. Now that they had a child on the way, he was eagerly looking forward to being the father he’d always wanted and needed, but never had.
So far, Buck O’Brien hadn’t tried to contact him, but the old man continued to make life hard for Tallulah. Taggart and Emily-Ann were both trying to persuade his sister to move here to Arizona. The last time he’d talked to her, he’d gotten the impression she was close to giving in.
“Other than us,” he said, then inclined his head toward the far end of the dance floor where Gil was guiding Maureen into a slow two-step.
Emily-Ann’s gaze followed Taggart’s. “Oh, you’re talking about Maureen and Gil. Yes, the more I see them together, the more I’m sure she’s completely gone on the man. Which I think is okay with all her children, don’t you? I know for sure that Camille doesn’t object. But guys are kind of different when it comes to their mothers—they can be possessive.”
“You mean since Joel is gone, the guys might need to protect their mother from assertive males?”
“That’s close to what I’m trying to say. Not that I think Gil is assertive. Quite the opposite. He’s very nice. He even stops by the coffee shop when he’s in town and always leaves me a tip.”
Since they’d married, Emily-Ann was still working at Conchita’s and planned to keep her job until the baby arrived. After that, she was going to take time off to be a mother and finish her nursing degree. At least, that’s what she had planned. Taggart couldn’t imagine her giving up the coffee shop job completely. Not when she loved it so much. But that was her choice. All he wanted was for her to be happy and to know that he loved her and the baby utterly.
“Gil is a stand-up guy,” Taggart said. “I just wish—”
“What?” she prompted.
“Oh, that the mystery around Joel’s death could be solved,” he said. “I think it would help Maureen put losing him behind her once and for all.”
Her eyes full of love and tenderness, she reached up and touched a finger to his cheek. “And what about you, Tag? Have you put your losses behind you?”
The smile he gave her couldn’t have been more honest. “All I see, my darling wife, is the future. With you and me and our children.”
He had just finished placing a soft kiss on her lips when Chandler strode quickly over to them and from the look on his face, he had good news.
“We just heard from Matthew. Camille has delivered her baby. A boy—Matthew Harrison Waggoner.”
“Sounds like he’s going to be a junior,” Emily-Ann stated.
Chandler shook his head as he jerked out his smartphone and held it out for them to see the tiny baby swaddled in a blue receiving blanket. “Matthew is calling him Harry for Harrison and since that was our maternal great grandfather’s name, Camille is happy with it.”
>
“Are she and the baby okay?” Taggart asked.
“Matthew snapped this pic before they carried the baby off to the nursery. He says everyone is great and little Harry has red hair like his mother.”
“Oh my!” Emily-Ann exclaimed, then sniffed as joyous tears filled her eyes.
Spotting them, Taggart asked, “Honey, why are you crying at this wonderful news?”
She dabbed a finger beneath both eyes. “Camille wanted our babies to both be gingers—like the two of us. Now if mine doesn’t turn out having red hair, she’ll be terribly disappointed.”
Both men laughed loudly and then Taggart wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close to his side.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, if this baby of ours doesn’t turn out to be a ginger, the next one will be.”
Chandler winked at Taggart and gave him a playful swat on the arm. “Welcome to the family, Tag.”
* * *
Don’t miss the next Men of the West story, available in August 2020!
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Her Homecoming Wish by Jo McNally
A Baby Affair by Tara Taylor Quinn
Second-Chance Sweet Shop by Rochelle Alers
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Chapter One
Daisy Dawson’s wedding ceremony was supposed to start any minute, and there was no sign of the groom. At nine months pregnant, in a pretty but scratchy white lace maternity dress and peau de soie heels that pinched, standing around wasn’t exactly easy.
She poked her head out the door of the small room where she was getting ready. The special events hall of the Dawson Family Guest Ranch lodge had been beautifully decorated, thanks to her sister-in-law, Sara, who’d gone all out with pink and red roses, white tulle, and a red satin carpet runner to create an aisle. Thirty-six chairs were set up on both sides of the carpet. On the bride’s side, she saw her five brothers in the first row, all decked out in suits and Stetsons and cowboy boots. She saw her colleagues from the ranch. She saw old friends and newer ones.
But the other side of the aisle was still conspicuously empty of guests. No relatives or friends of the groom had arrived. That was really weird. Jacob was late and so were all the people he’d invited to their wedding?
Sure, Daisy. Right.
She poked her head back in and looked in the mirror, reality hitting her right in the nose. Jacob wasn’t coming to his own wedding. And since none of his guests had turned up, it was obvious that he’d let them know in advance that he was calling it off. How kind of him to tell everyone in his life but her.
Everyone who meant something special to her was waiting for her to walk down the aisle. And there wasn’t going to be a wedding. She shook her head, calling herself all kinds of a fool for ever thinking this was going to happen.
Ping!
Daisy eyed her phone on the vanity table with all her cosmetics and the curling iron she’d painstakingly used to get beachy waves in her straight light brown hair. The text was either from one of her brothers asking if everything was okay—since the ceremony was supposed to start at 5:00 p.m.—or it was her fiancé, Jacob, the cowardly fink, not facing her in person.
She grabbed her phone. It was Jacob.
I’m really sorry. But it hit me hard this morning that we don’t love each other and we’ve been forcing it. And I’ve been forcing that I can be a dad. I’m heading back to Cheyenne and might move east. Wish you and the baby all the best. J.
A burst of sadness got her in the heart at the same time that red-hot anger seized her. She stared at herself in the mirror, through her late mother’s beautiful lace veil, which she should have known would be bad luck. She’d tried, at least. Tried, tried, tried all summer to make it work with Jacob—she’d thought they were going to build a future together. A family. But her baby wouldn’t have a father.
She stuffed her phone in her little beaded cross-body purse and stalked out the back door and down the side steps, to where her Honda, with a Just Married sign with streamers on the back, waited to get her out of here.
She quickly got in the car and took a deep breath, flipped back the veil, then texted her brother Noah.
J called off the wedding. Need some time alone.
She reread Jacob’s text. Wish you and the baby all the best. Like he was some distant uncle! How dare he? She banged the phone against the steering wheel and chucked it out the window, then pulled off her engagement ring and threw it out, too. She grabbed the headpiece and veil off her head and tossed them on the back seat.
Then she peeled out, seeing the ridiculous streamers floating behind the car in the rearview mirror as she took off down the drive toward the gates of the ranch.
Where exactly am I going? she wondered, trying not to cry so she wouldn’t swerve into the wildflowers lining the road. She lived in the main house at the guest ranch, and no way could she deal with relative after relative, friend after friend coming to see her, feeling sorry for her. So forget about her sanctuary of her bedroom and pulling the quilt over her head for a few days.
Jacob had booked a weekend honeymoon for the two of them at the Starlight B&B in Prairie City, a half hour away. She supposed she could go there and lick her wounds and order their highly rated room service. Her cravings were insane these days. All she seemed to want was pasta in pink sauce with bacon and peas. And garlic bread. And chocolate cake. All B&Bs had chocolate cake, right?
Thinking of the food almost took her mind off being stood up at the altar and the sudden change to her future.
Not just hers. Her brothers’ futures, too. Four of the five Dawson men had scattered across Wyoming, and she’d been hoping to steer them back home to stay. She’d had big plans for becoming a secret amateur matchmaker at the wedding reception tonight, putting individually irresistible women for the four remaining Dawson bachelors under their unsuspecting noses. But some case she could make to Ford, Axel, Zeke and Rex for sticking around Bear Ridge, finding true love and settling down in their hometown, if not on their home ranch, now.
One of her brothers—Noah—had already done exactly that, which had given Daisy hope for the others. One down, five to go, right? Her wedding had brought them all home when being at the ranch, being in Bear Ridge, made them all feel...unsettled. But they’d inherited the ranch last winter from their father, and only Noah had stayed to rebuild the long-closed, run-down family business. Daisy, then five months pregnant and alone, had joined Noah in the mission, and no one had been more surprised than her when her baby’s father had come after her, saying he was sorry, that he wanted a second chance, that they could do this, after all: be a family. He’d lasted four months.
She’d thought she was getting married today. She’d thought she could convince her brothers that true love really did exist, even if it hadn’t for their father and various mothers—there were three moms among the Dawson siblings. She’d thought the Dawson clan could start fresh here together. She’d thought she could use the wedding festivities to show them they could be happy here. Among the guests she’d invited were at least eight women who would seriously appeal to each single brother for one reason or another. Falling in love would be just the ticket back. But after seeing their sister stood up at the altar—nine months pregnant with their little niece or nephew—the four remaining Dawson bachelors would hightail it out of Bear Ridge, whi
ch had always meant bad luck to all of them. Family was everything to Daisy. And not only had her dreams of building her own family with her baby’s father gone poof, but Ford, Axel, Zeke and Rex would most likely leave tonight or tomorrow and come back for her baby’s birth, then leave again after a day or two and return for Christmas. Maybe.
Family: the way it wasn’t supposed to be.
Daisy let out a sigh and kept driving, teary acceptance and pissed-as-hell fighting for dominance. Fifteen minutes later, the two still going at it, she drove down the service road on the outskirts of Bear Ridge that would eventually lead her to the freeway. But then her car made a weird sputtering sound. Crunch-creak. Then another. Crunch-creeeeeeeak.
Oh no. She quickly pulled over, turned off the engine, then tried to restart. Nothing.
“Nooo!” she yelped, hitting the steering wheel. Someone tell me this is all a bad dream. She looked around, out the windshield and both passenger windows. She was on some rural stretch, hay bales for acres on either side of her. Not another car in sight. She tried the ignition again. Dead. One more time, because you never knew. Still dead.
She rested her head against the steering wheel for a moment, the stretch tearing the side of her wedding gown. Fine with her. The minute she got to the Starlight, she’d be rolling it up in a wad and setting it on fire in a garbage can out front like she was Angela Bassett in Waiting to Exhale.
This really wasn’t her day after all.
Daisy grabbed her purse to get her phone to call for help, then grimaced. “Oh hell, that was stupid.” Her phone was behind the rosebushes on the side of the lodge. With her engagement ring. Her mom had often said, Daisy Rae Dawson, acting first and thinking later is gonna be your downfall, sweetcakes. Her beloved mother was right about that. Especially now.
She sat there for a second, taking another breath when she was hit with a strange, pulling sensation low in her belly. That was weird. She grabbed her stomach and started breathing the way she’d learned in Lamaze class. A minute or so later, it hit her again. Oh no. No, no, no. Were these contractions? Maybe they were the false early ones the Lamaze teacher had mentioned yesterday, when Jacob was there breathing deeply beside her, making her believe he was really committed to her and their child. She wasn’t due for another three weeks!
The Texan Tries Again (Men 0f The West Book 44) Page 20