by Liz Isaacson
Whitney once again felt like she was the only one who actually had to get a babysitter. Tripp and Liam worked from home and set their own schedules. A lunch once a month wasn’t hard for them to take over the care of their children.
Skyler and Micah still worked on the ranch, but Micah only did morning chores, and Mal’s baby was still inside her. Wyatt didn’t work if he didn’t want to. Rhett took cases for the state if he wanted to, but Whitney knew he hadn’t had one since attending court only a few days after his triplets had been born.
It was only Jeremiah who worked fifty or sixty hours each week, and Whitney wondered why. The man loved ranching, and that was a huge part of it. She couldn’t imagine a Jeremiah without a task to be completed. He’d probably go mad. Or find a way to bake brownies every day, she thought, smiling to herself.
People started picking up menus, and Whitney did the same as conversations broke out. Mal and Marcy had become close, which made sense because their husbands were so close. Simone sat over there with them, as the three younger sons had a little clique the others weren’t involved in.
Whitney had spent more time with Rhett and Evelyn in the beginning of her marriage with Jeremiah, but at the moment, Evelyn was completely overwhelmed with her kids, and Whitney could relate to that. She only had two, but they were close together and quite the handful for her.
The twins obviously had a special relationship that had carried into adulthood, and Whitney felt left out of that pairing too.
“Sometimes I feel so left out in the family,” Ivory said, and Whitney whipped her attention away from the menu. She met Ivory’s eyes, sure the woman had just read her mind.
She even asked, “Can you read minds?”
Ivory looked surprised too. “You too?”
“So much.” Whitney suddenly felt a bond form between her and Ivory. “Is that why you’re moving to the house on Quail Creek?”
“We just wanted to move closer,” Ivory said. “We’re really far away, and the house is too big. That house just happened to have everything we wanted.”
“I’m right in the middle of it all,” Whitney said. “And I still feel like an island.” She had siblings too, and she talked to them. She saw them at the store from time to time. She just hadn’t realized how busy she’d be with the kids, with keeping up the homestead, and with being a wife. Someone should’ve warned her how much time all of that took.
“So do I,” Callie said. “I swear, I can’t wait for this project of Liam’s to be over.”
Whitney almost got whiplash she twisted toward Callie so fast. “You?” She looked across the table to Evelyn and Simone. “You have sisters nearby.”
“I think we all feel that way,” Callie said. “It’s the day-to-day details. Getting breakfast on the table. Cleaning breakfast up. Putting the kids in the tub. Cleaning up the water all over the bathroom floor. Thinking about dinner. Getting something out of the freezer. What chores need to be done? What do the kids need? Food? Clothes? A fun activity that day? Can I just take a bath?” She gave a light giggle and shook her head.
“Women have too many tasks,” Whitney said. “I think Jeremiah thinks about one thing at a time, and he never thinks about anyone’s schedule but his.”
“That’s just how men are,” Evelyn said, and Whitney hadn’t even known she was listening. “I’m the one who schedules the doctor’s appointments. Rhett doesn’t even know the babies need them.”
The talk went on for another couple of minutes, and Penny said, “Oh, our cowboys. We love ‘em, but yeah, they can be a challenge sometimes.”
And that about summed up Whitney’s whole life. She smiled at Penny, her gaze switching to Marcy. And she knew that she belonged with these women, and they belonged to her.
The waitress arrived and took their orders, and when she left, Whitney leaned over to Callie and said, “I know your kids are a little older than mine, but we live a half-mile apart. Let’s get together.”
“Our sons are the same age,” Ivory said. “I’d love to come over to the ranch during the day while Oliver’s at school.”
“Yes,” Whitney said, smiling at her. “Please do. Let’s set up a playgroup or something.”
“I want Conrad to come,” Evelyn said. “And I’m willing to host sometimes too.”
Whitney watched as Marcy said she wanted to get Warren out of the house more, and though Mal and Simone didn’t have children, they seemed interested in the conversation.
“Okay, so how about this?” Whitney asked. “I’ll make a monthly schedule, and we can all sign up for days that work for us to host at our houses. And then whoever can come, can come?” She looked at the others. “And if you’re in charge, you have activities and lunch at your house. It would be a couple of hours. Ten to noon or something, so then we can put the kids down for naps in the afternoon.”
“Then I can put myself down for a nap in the afternoon,” Marcy said, and everyone laughed.
“You girls are so good,” Penny said, sniffling. “I just love you so much.”
“I love y’all too,” Mal said, smiling at them, and more of the same sentiments were echoed around the table.
Whitney said, “I love all of you. I’m so glad we’re doing this. These cousins should know each other and have a safe place to come, no matter what.”
“And that’s family,” Penny said. “Friends may come and go, but family stays forever.”
“Amen,” Callie said as their food arrived. Several others echoed her, and Whitney felt happier than she had in a while, especially when a plate of French fries and caramelized onion sliders was put in front of her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Simone set the bowl of fresh guacamole on the credenza as Micah came out of the bedroom. “Look,” she said. “You can put food here.”
His dark eyes glinted at her as he came closer, and he finally chuckled. “I see that.” He picked up a chip and swiped up some dip. “Do I really have to go?”
“Yes,” she said. “You’re not a girl, and it’s girls’ night.” She gave him a smile and went back into the kitchen to stir the hot artichoke dip she’d just taken out of the oven. She hated heating up the house in the summer, but Micah’s house had excellent air conditioning, unlike her cabin which seemed to leak air through the thin walls.
And it’s not Micah’s house, Simone told herself. It’s your house too.
“Okay,” he said. “But do we have a couple of minutes to look at the design for your workshop?”
Simone put down the spoon immediately, looking up at him as her pulse began to pound through her whole body. “You’re going to finally show it to me?” She’d been begging him to see the plans since he’d mentioned them on the drive home from their Hill Country shopping trip.
“I think it’s ready.” Micah seemed nervous as he opened the bottom drawer in the island.
“It’s been in there the whole time?” She never opened that drawer. She didn’t even know there was anything in it.
“I just put it there last night,” he said, grinning at her. He possessed a boyish charm that made Simone fall a little further in love with him. She smiled back at him as he said, “If there’s anything you don’t like, just say. It’s not set in stone.” He took a deep breath and spread an oversized piece of paper on the counter.
He pointed to the top corner. “It’s fifteen hundred square feet, just like the barn you’re in now. Fifty by thirty.”
“Do we have room for that?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said. “I think we put it close to the house, so we can pour a patio in the backyard and that can serve as the entrance as well.” He glanced at her.
“Okay,” she said, studying all the lines. “Look at those bookshelves.”
“Lots of shelves,” he said. “I’ll build those custom, so you tell me how big you want them. The height and depth, all of that.” He ran his finger along the back wall. “This is the fifty-foot wall, and I figured that would be enough shelving.”
He went on to explain how if they kept it close to the house, he could use the electricity from here for her kiln. “Which will go here,” he said, pointing to the corner. “Pottery wheel here. Desk here, for all your business stuff. I can build that too and put in as many drawers as you want. File drawers, something for receipts, whatever you need.”
Simone could only nod, because there were no words to say how wonderful this was.
“You need space for your bigger items,” he said. “The inventory. So I didn’t do a whole lot with the rest of the space.” He pointed to some rectangles on the drawing. “I think some waist-high tables would be great, and I roughly sketched those in here.”
He pointed in front of the bookcases. Fifty feet of them. “I thought stainless steel, because then you can paint or stain or whatever.” He looked at her for approval, and Simone’s eyes filled with tears. He abandoned the plans. “Hey.” He took her into his arms, and Simone’s emotions kept her from telling him that the tears were happy ones.
Standing there in their kitchen, Simone fought against her feelings of unworthiness. She tried to tame the storm in her chest. He just held her tight and didn’t try to tell her she was being silly. She already knew she was.
“What is it?” he finally stepped back and looked at her. He reached up and wiped her face gently, and that made Simone want to cry even harder.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head and blinking. “It’s just so wonderful. It’s amazing. You’re amazing.” She gave a quick laugh and practically lunged at him to kiss him.
He chuckled and held her tight, tight for another few seconds. “Hey, you cook for me, and I’ll build you what you want.” He gave her a playful grin, probably trying to play off the tension she’d created.
She leaned into his bicep as he explained the rest of the drawing, finally saying, “And I know this corner looks blank. That’s intentional. See the windows here and here?” He indicated the very narrow rectangles in the plan. “I talked to Whitney, and she said natural light is awesome for still photography. And this corner will be where you can pose all of your items to take pictures of them for your website.”
Simone clutched his arm with both of her hands, stealing his strength from him. “I love it,” she whispered.
“No changes?”
“You put a bathroom in it,” she said. “If I put a bed out here, I could live in it.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “No beds in the workshop, baby. I want you in here with me.”
Simone looked up at him, thinking that she wanted this moment burned in her memory forever. This strong, handsome, hardworking, faithful cowboy. Her strong, handsome, hardworking, faithful cowboy. “I love it,” she repeated. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Micah leaned down and kissed her, and Simone put everything else out of her mind. She focused on kissing him and being with him and letting everything that was Micah flow over her and through her.
“Hey,” a woman said. “Stop kissing.” Callie laughed a moment later, and Simone broke her kiss with Micah and faced her sister. She wore a look of pure delight though, and Simone could admit she felt it moving through her. “We knocked, I swear.”
“Yeah,” Simone said. “We were a little busy.”
“We saw,” Evelyn said, coming into the kitchen from the living room. “I put Mom’s dress there. We’ll have to figure out what we want to do with it.”
“Oh, right,” Simone said. “And I have the credenza Micah and I found in his office. We’ll go over what you think of my ideas, and I’ll get going on it.”
Evelyn sighed and looked at Simone and then Callie. “I can’t believe Daddy is getting married.”
Micah picked up his drawing and kissed the back of Simone’s neck. “See you later, sweetheart.” He slipped away, lifting his hand in a goodbye wave to her sisters as he left through the front door.
Evelyn and Callie watched him, finally facing Simone once the door had clicked closed. “So things are going well here, I see,” Callie said, her smile much too big for Simone’s liking.
She said nothing as she picked up the spoon and stirred the artichoke dip again.
“Obviously,” Evelyn said. “She’s glowing.”
“I am not,” Simone said. “He’s building me a new workshop, and he was showing me the plans. That’s all. It was exciting.”
“Yeah, and that kiss looked exciting too.” Evelyn cocked her eyebrow, her smile not far behind.
“We’re married,” Simone said. “I’m forty years old. I’m allowed to kiss him.”
“You’re only thirty-nine,” Evelyn said as she slid onto a barstool. “And I hope there’s more than just dips. I’m starving.”
“Of course there’s more than just dips,” Simone said, though she’d never criticized what her sister had made when she hosted girls’ night. No matter how old she got, she’d always be the youngest sister, and sometimes Callie and Evelyn treated her that way whether they meant to or not.
“I made mini meatloaves and saffron rice.” She pulled everything out of the oven, where it had been warming for the last few minutes.
“And I’m sure there’s something chocolatey in the fridge,” Callie said, stepping that way. She opened the door and made a triumphant noise. “Yep. Looks like Oreo chocolate pie to me.”
“It is,” Simone said, smiling. “We need the pie to get through the wedding talk.”
“I’m not dreading the wedding,” Callie said. “Are you?”
“No, not really,” Simone admitted. “It’s just strange. I’m happy for them. They seem to love each other.”
“They sure do,” Evelyn said.
“Just like you and Micah,” Callie said, beaming at Simone. “I think you two are so cute.”
“Thanks.” Simone gave her sister a side-hug.
“So the experiment worked,” Callie said.
“I guess so,” Simone said, finally leaving the artichoke dip alone. “I need to run something by you guys.”
“Ooh, something,” Evelyn said, smiling. Callie went around the island and sat next to Evelyn, both of them looking at her expectantly.
Simone took a breath. “I told Micah I wanted a big wedding ceremony. I mean, we got ‘married’ during an audition. I was wearing jeans.” She looked over her sisters’ shoulders to the couch, where an off-white dress had been draped. “I want to wear something of Momma’s while I pledge to the man I love that I want to be with him.” She looked back at her sisters. “Is that dumb? Overdramatic?”
“Of course not,” Callie said. “And besides, you always have been a little overdramatic. Which is totally fine.”
“I think you should,” Evelyn said. “I got my wedding the second time I married Rhett. Callie got hers, even if it was a little fake in the beginning.” She glanced at Callie, who nodded.
“Okay,” Simone said. “I’m thinking Christmas. I’ve always wanted to be married at Christmastime.”
“That’s a long time,” Callie said.
“Yeah, but…Christmas.” Simone smiled, just imagining how magical it would be. “And you’re going to be in the wedding too.”
“We are?” Callie asked.
“Yep,” Simone said. “I’m planning a big surprise, and I’m going to need everyone’s help.” She could barely contain her excitement. “Now let’s eat. I’m starving too. Then I’ll tell you all about it.”
The days until June eleventh flew by, and before Simone knew it, she was directing Micah as he backed the delivery truck up to her workshop. “Right there,” she said, holding up her palm. He stopped completely and got out of the truck.
She stood back, out of the way, while he opened the rolling door at the back of the truck and went inside her workshop. “It’s just right inside the
door there,” she called after him.
She felt like she’d lost some of her brain cells. After girls’ night a couple of nights ago, she’d worked on the wedding altar for her father and Belinda every day. The concept had come together easily, and Simone had started dreaming about building her own altar for her and Micah’s wedding.
He came out with the altar in his hands. “It’s gorgeous, Simone.” He smiled at her and got it easily into the back of the truck. “So we’re going over there to set up, then coming back here to get dressed?”
“Yes,” she said. “We have plenty of time.”
“Yep.” He pulled the door down and faced her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just tired,” she said, though her stomach ached too. It had been for at least a week now, and no amount of peppermint oil or antacid had helped.
Micah touched her hand, and Simone looked at him. “You sure?”
“My stomach hurts,” she admitted. “I just haven’t eaten breakfast yet.” She did always feel better after she ate. “So let’s get to Daddy’s and set up. Then you can buy me a pecan bun.” She smiled, hoping that would erase the concern in his eyes.
They crinkled around the edges, and he said, “I like the way you think.” He drove them over to her father’s house and took the altar through the gate on the side of the house and into the backyard.
Simone followed, hoping Evelyn had already been there with all the flowers. Her car wasn’t out front, and Simone couldn’t set up the altar without them. She found Micah adjusting the altar according to her father’s directions, and she paused to take in the lovely atmosphere of the backyard.
It had been completely transformed, with tea lights radiating out from the roof of the house toward an arch that had been set up. Just in front of that, Micah shifted the altar another inch before her father deemed it good.
Someone had set up chairs on the grass, creating an aisle down the middle, and there couldn’t be more than thirty or forty. The coziness of it all pricked at Simone’s heart, and before she knew it, she was crying again.