Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding

by Sasha Summers

  She stared at the kitchen door, her head hurting—on top of the swish and pitch of her stomach. Ash had had the advantage of meeting her family, staying in her home, becoming instantly immersed in her life and family. All she knew was the ridiculous effect he had on her body, that he was a veterinarian—one talented enough for her brothers to hire—and, lastly, that he had a son.

  Everything else? A mystery.

  Including who was on the other end of that phone call.

  * * *

  Ash downed his second cup of coffee and glanced at the door for the hundredth time this morning. No Renata. They’d left a hell of a lot unfinished last night and he didn’t like it. Normally, he wasn’t a pushy man. But nothing about this was normal. This was too big to sit by and hope things worked out. She might have run off while he was getting his nightly report from the mothers, but he knew where to find her today.

  Last night had been one of the longest nights of his life. After his hunt for Renata came up empty, he’d called the mothers back and told them everything. Well...not everything, but enough. When’d they both peppered him with questions about who she was, her family and when they’d be getting married, Ash kept things as vague as possible. In his heart, he knew what was best for his child. A mother and a father, under one roof, sharing responsibilities and unconditional love. His father had been a hard man, sparing with his praise and affection for his son and wife. Ash had grown up looking for ways to win his father’s approval, and losing him at seventeen had left a void he’d never filled. His children would never experience that. They would grow up with a loving and supportive father. If he had it his way, a family.

  Now he sat, making small talk and sharing an incredible spread of homemade cinnamon rolls, fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp bacon and fresh orange juice. Teddy and his wife, Clara, were gracious hosts, eagerly sharing tidbits about the town they called home. Before he got too caught up in conversation, he got directions to the Tourism Department.

  “Renata mentioned something about a Gingerbread Festival needing judges, so I thought I’d lend a hand.” Not that he had the slightest interest in gingerbread houses. But if Renata was there, he would be, too.

  “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” Clara said. “This time of year, her plate is always overloaded.” Clara pulled another tray of cookies from the industrial oven. She’d been baking since before he joined them for breakfast. The kitchen smelled incredible. Platters were stacked high with frosted sugar-cookie Christmas trees and wreaths, gingerbread men with red-hot eyes and raisin buttons, and tins of fudge and white divinity candy. If Ash wasn’t so stuffed from breakfast, he’d have eaten his fair share. “But Christmas is a special time of year and Renata likes to make sure everyone gets a healthy dose of the holiday spirit.”

  “She does.” Teddy nodded. “But that girl needs to take care of herself. She’s always finding time to watch her brothers’ kids or us. What she needs to be doing is finding a good man and having her own house full of babies.”

  “You remind her every time you see her. Now Ash knows it, too.” Clara patted his hand. “It’s your fault, Teddy. You’ve shown your children what real love looks like. Your daughter isn’t going to settle. So until the right man comes along, you’ll just have to wait.”

  Real love. Right man. Hell. Whatever he offered her, he’d be asking her to settle.

  Guilt, all too familiar, clawed at his stomach and set a slow throb in his temple. Renata deserved both of those things. But now the right man would also need to be willing to be a loving stepfather to her baby. Their baby. His hands were unsteady as they spun the coffee cup he held, the surface of the black liquid rippling. His baby. A baby he wanted to raise—not some mystery man that might come along and sweep Renata off her feet. The guilt twisted into something heavier, hotter—and bitter. Anger.

  At who? The only person he had a right to be angry with was himself—for being foolish enough to wind up in this position.

  “Well, he needs to hurry up already.” Teddy kept on, chuckling. “She wants a child and husband and a spot on the vow tree.” He sighed.

  “What’s the vow tree?” He glanced up from his coffee.

  Clara nudged Teddy.

  “It’s a Boone tradition,” Teddy explained, waving any true explanation aside.

  “Meaning it’s a secret—unless you’re a Boone.” Clara winked. “An incredibly special and romantic secret.” With a kiss to Teddy Boone’s forehead, she added, “Now, stop worrying over your daughter. She’d tell you to mind your own business and give you one of her ‘I can take care of myself’ looks.”

  Ash could imagine that look.

  Teddy patted his wife’s arm. “You’re right, as always. Besides, there isn’t a man alive that deserves her. And that’s the truth.” He winked at Ash.

  He tried like hell to smile in return.

  Would Teddy Boone approve of him as his son-in-law? As much as he hoped so, he had his doubts. Teddy was an old-fashioned man with old-fashioned values. Having a pregnant, unmarried daughter would be a hard pill for Mr. Boone to swallow. Teddy Boone would not be happy—over any of this—but he’d understand, if not approve, when Ash proposed to Renata. At least, he sure as hell hoped so. He’d spent most of the night trying to come up with solutions that made sense. None did—except one. Marrying Renata. Not because she needed him—she’d made it clear she didn’t—but because it was best for the baby.

  “She seems to love her work,” he offered. “About talked my ear off at Fisher’s place the other night.”

  Teddy chuckled. “She does, indeed. No doubt about that. A real hard worker, too.” He sipped his coffee.

  “Like her father. And brothers.” Clara refilled his coffee cup. “Ash, when you stop by Renata’s office, you could drop in at the real estate office a few blocks away. With any luck, there might be something good listed.”

  Conversation wandered into what he was looking for. When Curtis came up, Teddy and Clara had only the best things to say about the local schools—grandparents through and through. His mother and Betty would fit in just fine here.

  Ash gulped down the rest of his black coffee and stood. “Guess I’ll head that way. Thank you, again, for breakfast.”

  With a wave, Ash headed out and climbed into his truck, resolve surging through his veins. Things were starting off rough, no denying that, but Ash would do his damnedest to smooth things over as soon as possible. Hopefully now, after a good night’s rest, Renata would be more willing to sit down and develop a plan for how to move forward.

  On impulse, he stopped at a small floral shop and bought a bouquet of flowers. A peace offering couldn’t hurt. Once he parked, he smoothed his shirt, grabbed the flowers and walked into the City Offices—one of which was the Tourism Department.

  A middle-aged woman looked up from her desk, eyes peeking over her reading glasses. “Good morning. Can I help you?”

  “I hope so. I’m looking for Renata Boone.” He tried for a charming smile.

  She caught sight of the flowers, her eyes going owl-like. “Miss Boone?”

  He nodded.

  Not a blink. “Is she expecting you?”

  “No.” He looked pointedly at the flowers. “I was hoping to surprise her.” And convince her to marry me.

  The woman’s expression went from cautious to excited. “Oh, I bet she will be. You go on. Her office is at the end of the hall, to the right.”

  Ash nodded his thanks, walked down the hall and knocked on Renata’s door. Her muffled “Come in,” was the only invitation he needed.

  “Irma,” Renata said, not looking up from the papers spread across her desk. “Have we heard back about the portable stage yet? I don’t know what we’ll do if the school doesn’t have it.”

  “I can go ask her if you like,” he offered, closing the office door behind him.

  “Ash...” She stood. “I
didn’t expect you.” He could see that. “Why are you here?”

  Sometimes he forgot just how beautiful she was. Like now. He was too tongue-tied to say a damn thing, so he offered her the flowers. The whole charming thing was going to be a challenge.

  “Flowers?” She couldn’t have been more surprised.

  And cute. “A man’s been known to bring a woman flowers now and then.” He chuckled.

  Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. “I—I... Thank you.” She took the flowers, staring down at the blooms as she asked, “You stopped by to give me flowers?”

  He sat. “Partly. Thought I’d sign up to judge your Gingerbread Festival.”

  Her eyes locked with his. Surprise, again. Good. The element of surprise would keep her on her toes and give him the upper hand.

  But as she sank into her seat, she looked his way with open suspicion. “Why?”

  “It’ll give us time together.” He saw no point in beating around the bush.

  Her shoulders drooped. “Ash, you don’t need to do this—”

  “Maybe I want to.” Their futures were forever tied now. They owed it to each other—and their baby—to get to know one another.

  She looked at him then, those blue eyes knocking the air from his lungs. He waited, bracing himself for what she’d say or do next. But when she finally spoke, she neatly sidestepped the elephant in the room altogether. “Have you ever judged a baking competition before? Or a gingerbread house competition?”

  “No. But I’ve eaten my fair share.” He grinned, watching her do her best to fight back an answering smile.

  She shook her head, losing her battle in spite of her best efforts. “You go ahead and tease all you want, but this is a serious competition.”

  She looked tired. Like she hadn’t slept all that well last night. He knew the feeling. Teddy Boone was right. She had to start taking better care of herself—for the baby’s sake if nothing else. “Did you eat breakfast?” he asked.

  He caught her glance at the clock on her wall. “I wasn’t hungry. But I’ll have a big lunch to make up for it.”

  “I’m headed to the real estate place around the corner.” He stood. “I’ll come back to get you and we can have lunch together.”

  “Wait,” she said, placing the flowers on her desk and standing. “I can’t have lunch today. I’m too busy.”

  He didn’t doubt she was busy but, dammit, he wasn’t a fool. She was doing her best to keep him at arm’s length. Guess she needed to know he could be just as stubborn as she was.

  “You have to eat. Besides, how else are you going to catch me up to speed on the whole judging thing? You just said it was a serious competition. I don’t want to mess that up for anyone.”

  She wavered, chewing on her lower lip. That was the thing about Renata—that mix of genuine sweetness and mind-numbing sexiness. He had to focus, to keep his goal in mind, or he’d be staring at her like an idiot in no time. Again. “Be back at eleven—since you didn’t eat breakfast,” he reminded her. “The baby’s growing, Renata. It’s up to you to take care of the both of you.”

  “Ash,” she squeaked. Her eyes widened and the color drained from her cheeks as she marched around the desk and opened her office door. “I can take care of me...us...just fine.” Her defiant whisper was the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen.

  He nodded, standing in the doorway—inches from her. “Good, glad to hear it. Eleven it is.” She smelled like roses.

  “Ash,” she hissed when he turned to go.

  He faced her, close enough to breathe her in—and make the air between them spark instantly to life. And it did. Every inch of him was aware of one thing. “Renata,” he murmured, the urge to touch her crowding in on him.

  She was breathing heavily, her cheeks resuming that rosy glow. “You... I...”

  Damn it all, he couldn’t help himself. His fingertips traced along her satin skin. Her temple, down her cheek, along her jaw, to her chin. “You’re glad I stopped by. Can’t wait for lunch?” He paused, smiling. “Really want a kiss goodbye?”

  She shook her head, her gaze fixed on his mouth. Her lips parted slightly.

  Well hell. He wanted to kiss her goodbye. Wanted to feel her in his arms. More than wanted to. “Need a kiss goodbye?” He could barely get the words out.

  She shook her head again but didn’t move when he leaned in. It would be easy to pull her close. She wouldn’t resist—he knew it. If they weren’t in her office, he might have considered it. But he wasn’t sure pressing her flat against a wall to kiss her senseless was the same thing as being charming. And he needed to be charming. He dug deep, resisting what he wanted for what needed to be done. Almost. At the last minute, he kissed her cheek.

  Hearing her soft sound of disappointment and annoyance had him smiling the rest of the morning.

  Chapter 6

  Renata was mortified. As a result, she’d spent the past few hours in hiding in her office with the door closed. Never in her life had she behaved so...so unprofessionally.

  Not that it was her fault.

  He’d kissed her. What had he been thinking?

  He’d kissed her and Irma saw him—saw the whole thing. She’d probably even seen the crushing disappointment Renata felt when he’d kissed only her cheek.

  But it wasn’t just Irma. No, right as Ash was walking away, the city manager—and her office neighbor—Quinton Sheehan had walked out. She’d had no choice but to introduce them. And Quinton, being Quinton, had spent another thirty minutes chatting Ash up. Before it was all done, Irma had made the men coffee and the three of them had lingered outside her office, laughing and talking like old friends while she’d tried to get some work done.

  When he’d finally left, she’d stopped pretending to be engrossed in the open spreadsheet on her monitor and stared blindly at the wall in front of her. What had just happened? He’d brought her flowers. Flowers? And volunteered to judge the Gingerbread Festival? He had no idea he’d saved her a big headache by filling a spot most locals didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

  But why? To spend time with her? He didn’t need to do that. She’d made it perfectly clear she had no expectations of him. Hadn’t she? Last night was a blur. She remembered babbling, again, and holding on to him for dear life—hardly her finest moment. But she had told him she had no expectations of him. That included bringing her flowers. Or judging the Gingerbread Festival.

  He’d only mentioned the baby once. Even then, it had been offhanded. A complete turnaround from all his intensity and determination of last night.

  “Maybe he just likes to drive me crazy,” she murmured, deciding the best thing to do was not think about him, for now. Her inbox grew with each passing second and she had a dozen or more phone calls to return. Forgetting Ash was the only chance she had of getting any work done.

  But the gorgeous bouquet of pink roses and white hydrangea flooded her office with a heavenly scent—and kept his dark-haired, light-eyed, devilishly handsome face foremost in her mind.

  Enough. Eleven o’clock would be here before she knew it. Not that she’d actually agreed to have lunch with him, had she? No, she hadn’t. But that wouldn’t stop him from showing up. She smiled, doing her best to focus on her endless to-do list.

  There wasn’t time to put off the final touches on her brother Archer’s Christmas Benefit Ball for his horse refuge. The annual budget meeting was next week. And going over the state’s tourism bus tour route revisions meant an hour of explanations when it came to city council. She needed to have answers ready. Which meant time, research and actual work. Not getting hot and bothered over Ash Carmichael.

  Irma was no help. Every twenty minutes or so, she’d pop in to offer her a cup of coffee or a water bottle. Each time, Irma slipped in some question or compliment about Ash. And how thoughtful his flowers were. Renata’s repeated assurances
that Ash was only a friend were blatantly ignored. Even Quinton sounded off, from his open office, that he seemed like a fine addition to the town.

  She pressed her hand against her stomach, still vaguely nauseous, once more mulling over his bizarre behavior this morning.

  She managed to confirm the big band and double-check on the special menu items the caterer was preparing for the Christmas Benefit Ball. Poor Archer was clueless when it came to social affairs. And, if she was being honest, his people skills needed work, too, so Renata had offered to help where she could. She drew a red line through the items on her to-do list. Only nine hundred and ninety-nine more things to go.

  The mobile stage had been located in the agriculture barn of the high school. The coach had volunteered to bring it over Friday. Another check.

  A quick glance at the clock told her it was ten after eleven. Ash was late.

  She should be relieved. Not disappointed. No, she wasn’t disappointed.

  But she was hungry.

  If she was lucky, she’d leave before Ash arrived. She grabbed her coat, slipped it on, closed her office and hurried down the hall. “Irma, I’m going to lunch—”

  Ash opened the front door. “Ready and waiting?” He was all smiles.

  Irma giggled. “You two have a nice lunch, now.”

  Renata bit back a curse.

  “We will,” Ash assured her.

  Did he just wink at Irma? Really? She didn’t say a word as she brushed past him and onto the porch of the City Offices. A gust of wind slammed into her.

  “Here,” he said, pulling her arm through his.

  She glared up at him. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Being a gentleman?” He frowned down at her. “It is where I’m from.”

  “Where would that be?” One more thing she didn’t know about him.

  “Ada, Oklahoma.” He smiled. “Small place. Good people.”

  Lips pressed tight, she let him lead her down the street. Pop’s Bakery. She froze. “Somewhere else?” she asked, her voice tight. They could not be seen there. Lola Stephens was a dear but there was no bigger gossip in Stonewall Crossing. She’d light up like a Christmas tree over Ash Carmichael and want to know every little thing about him—including why they were having lunch together.