“I am.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. “I ran into Winnie this morning.”
Her mind screeched to a stop.
“You know she’s working at Dr. Santos’s clinic now?” His words were low and gruff.
She knew. Damn it all. That woman. That horrible, nasty woman. The floor seemed to wave and buckle beneath her feet. The harder her brother looked at her, the worse it got. “Is she?” Why was the room so cold? And airless? “I mean, yes.”
“You know she is.” His hands settled on her shoulders, steadying her. His blue eyes—so like hers—assessing. “Renata... Don’t you have something to tell me? Us? All of us?”
Not yet. Not now. Life had been going ninety miles an hour for the last forty-eight hours. Before she dumped this on her family, she needed Ash to let go of this marriage foolishness. “No,” she whispered, knowing good and well her twin would see through her pathetic attempt at a lie.
“Renata Jean.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and waited.
“Did you really just use my middle name? You’re not Dad, Fisher. This is my business.”
“Are you kidding me?” His face was beet red. “I’m your brother. Your twin. You are my business.”
Part of her had never loved her brother as much as she did at that moment. But another part of her needed him to lower his voice and respect her privacy. Now.
“What’s all the yelling about?” Hunter walked out of the kitchen. He took his role as the eldest sibling seriously, doing his best to keep his brothers and sister in line.
“Nothing,” she answered. Too late now.
“Oh, it’s something all right,” Fisher argued—infuriating her further.
He had no right to do this. She’d tell her family when she was ready. And, right now, she was not ready. “Fisher. Stop!”
Archer and Ryder pushed through the door next.
“We can hear you in the kitchen,” Ryder said, teasing. “You guys give me grief about setting an example for the kids, but I’ve never had a yelling match during a family dinner.”
Neither she nor Fisher smiled. It took a lot to make her twin lose his temper. He was close now.
“What’s happening?” Archer’s ever-analytical gaze swung between Fisher and Renata.
“Nothing,” she snapped. “For once in my life, respect my privacy. Without interfering or doing what you think is best for me.”
“Renata.” Fisher’s anger gave way to something a hundred times worse. His gaze fell from hers, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “You can’t expect me to stop trying to protect you now? Not when it’s always been my job. I can’t stand by and let you get hurt.” He took her hand in his.
“Get hurt? What the hell’s going on?” Now Ryder was up in arms, his voice hardening. “Whose ass are we kicking?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Hunter was staring at her.
They were all staring at her.
And now her father was headed their way. “What is going on out here? Food’s on the table. Clara and Eden made some mighty fine-looking fried chicken. Josie made that potato salad I love. And Kylee made a buttermilk pie.” He frowned. “Who’s doing all the yelling and why?”
Renata held her breath, hoping, praying—
“These two,” Archer said, pointing between Renata and Fisher.
“We’re fine,” she argued. “Let’s go back and eat together.”
“I like that idea,” her father agreed, hooking her arm through his and patting her hand.
“You sure you won’t be running back to the bathroom again?” Fisher asked, scowling again.
Renata stared at him, silently pleading him to stop.
He shook his head then, refusing to look at her. “Kylee always has it really bad at the beginning of the pregnancy, too. But, the further along you get, the less morning sickness you’ll have. Hopefully.”
Renata was speechless. Fisher had outed her. In front of her brothers. And her father. Until now, he’d always been on her side. Always.
The room was absolutely quiet. And still. Like they were all suspended in space—waiting for the other to make the first move. Renata would be perfectly happy if a hole opened up in the floor and swallowed her.
But things only got worse when Ash walked in, an adorable dark-haired toddler on his hip, smiling a sweet baby grin. Two middle-aged women followed in his wake.
“Can we move this some place more private?” she hissed, desperation mounting.
“You’re pregnant?” Archer looked stunned. And he was talking way too loudly.
Because now Ash and the women were looking their way, too.
“Are you... Who... What the hell?” Ryder growled. “Like I said, whose ass are we kicking?”
She was doing her best not to stare at Ash, but the look of sheer determination and resignation on his face set off warning bells. He straightened, heading straight toward them. And it took everything she had not to run from the room. Nope, no running away. It’s not like this could get worse. She was shaking her head, holding up her hands, before she realized what she was doing.
Her brothers and father, all frowning and confused, looked from her to Ash, then back again.
“Everything okay?” Ash was looking at her, his voice low and soothing.
“Fine, Dr. Carmichael,” Archer snapped. He wasn’t a fan of outsiders butting in. Ever.
“This is a family matter, Ash.” Fisher’s smile was brittle—not in the least bit welcoming.
Still, Ash was looking at her, not her brothers or her father or the women standing, gawking, behind him. The toddler Ash carried turned huge eyes on the crowd assembled, making baby sounds, repeating, “Hi,” and waving frantically.
She couldn’t help it, she waved back. He, Ash’s son, was beautiful. “Curtis?” she asked.
Ash nodded.
Curtis clapped his hands and looked up at Ash, all the love in the world on his little face. “Daddy here.”
Ash nodded and pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I wanted to be here when you did this.”
She winced, pressing her eyes shut. Yes. Apparently, it could get worse.
Ryder was on the verge. “Why would she—”
“You’re kidding me?” Fisher groaned, long and loud. “It’s yours? It’s his.”
“He’s been here what? A week? Days?” Archer shot Fisher a look of pure irritation.
“He was here in October.” Hunter glanced her way. “For the interview.”
Her brothers turned on Ash, wound tight and stone-faced. This was very bad.
“Well,” her father mumbled, giving Ash a look Renata had never seen before. Still, his expression softened when Curtis waved at him. Her father adored children, especially his grandchildren. “Is that the way of it?” he asked.
She nodded again.
Her father was patting her arm again. “I see.”
He didn’t see. But she needed him to, before anyone jumped ahead and started presuming what happened next. “Ash and I will co-parent. We’ve agreed that’s best.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Ryder asked, his jaw locked stiff and his hands fisting at his sides.
“It means we will raise this baby together—”
“Of course you will,” her father agreed, his spirits lifting. “Ash here is a solid young man. He knows what the right thing to do is, given the situation.”
“We’re not getting married, Dad.” Her tone was firm. But the announcement was met with instant protest. Loudly. With curses. And all sorts of threatening looks Ash’s way. It horrified her to realize poor Ash’s safety was guaranteed only because his son was in his arms. His son, who burst into tears from the hostility and tension radiating off her beloved family. Ash started bouncing the boy, one hand patting his back. It was
oddly comforting to her—the calm efficiency of Ash’s actions.
“Stop it.” She’d never lost her temper or dared to raise her voice to her family. But now, well, they’d have to accept her decision because it was her decision. “Whether or not you like this doesn’t matter. This is between Ash and me. I love how much you all love me. But I know what’s best for me. I won’t settle in my marriage—I can’t. And if you do or say anything to bully Ash, I will never forgive you. Ever. Understood?” She stared each of her brothers down. “I mean it.”
One by one their gazes fell away, the tension in the air dropping a few notches. It was something. She meant what she’d said and they knew it.
But the sadness on her father’s face... Her heart clamped down hard and tore wide, sharp and jagged enough to knock the air from her lungs. She was the cause of that. “I’m sorry, Dad.” It hurt to say the words.
He cleared his throat. “If this is what you and Ash feel is best, I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”
Ryder made a sound that resembled a snort but didn’t say a word.
“No, now, I mean it,” her father said, patting her cheek. “I trust you, girl. Do what’s in your heart.”
Her eyes were burning and her throat was too tight to say a word, so she nodded.
“I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of you.” Her father turned to Ash then, avoiding his gaze to smile at Curtis. “This your boy? He’s a handsome fella.”
“Thank you.” Ash didn’t look happy. At all. And it worried her. If her family learned he was willing to propose... He was right. They’d side with him. And then what? She needed her family on her side—the right side—not the side where she married a man who didn’t love her. “And this is my mother and my mother-in-law. They’ll be moving here with me.”
Another new piece of information. Not that it mattered. She’d set everyone straight.
Renata was vaguely aware of the introductions. Her father was, as always, gracious and charming. If he was struggling to accept her life-altering news, there was no evidence of it. Instead, he escorted Ash and his family back to the desk to help them check in. Even though she felt Ash’s gaze on her, she avoided his eyes.
“I don’t keep things from Josie,” Hunter said, hugging her.
“No, I’d never ask that of you. But I’d appreciate it if we could keep it in the family—for now.” She shrugged.
“Considering where I found out, don’t you think that’s a little unlikely?” Fisher asked. “She didn’t come straight out with it, mind you. But there was no misunderstanding what her meaning was. In the middle of Pop’s, too.”
Which was disheartening. Since she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d had no control. From her body to her news, everyone seemed one step in front of her. First Ash. Then her family. Now all of Stonewall Crossing? For the first time in her life, she seriously considered hiding. If she didn’t have the Gingerbread Festival, Christmas parades and every other holiday event to direct—she’d head for her cousin’s place in West Texas. Peace, quiet and solitude.
“You two okay?” Hunter asked, a hand on both her and Fisher’s shoulders, ever the big brother. “I haven’t made you guys hug it out in years, but I will if I need to.”
Fisher shook his head. “Nope. All good.” He spun on his heel and went back into the kitchen.
That hurt. Until now, Fisher had been her go-to sibling. But, until now, she’d never kept secrets from him, and he was hurt.
“He’s not happy,” Ryder muttered.
“He’ll get over it.” Hunter sighed. “He’s not one to hold a grudge.”
“Let’s hope not. Talk about awkward family dinners.” Ryder laughed.
“You go on.” She managed a smile. “I need a minute.” She made it to the bathroom before she burst into tears, but it was close.
* * *
Ash did his best to smooth the single thick lock of black hair that crowned the top of his son’s head. No luck. It bounced back, curling up like a curlicue antenna. Having his boy back with him was sheer heaven. “Seems to get bigger every day.” He offered Curtis another block to stack.
Curtis smiled, leaning forward to grab his hands. “Daddy kiss.”
Ash nodded, pulling his son close. “Missed you, too.” He kissed his cheek.
Curtis nodded back, clapping his hands.
“He’s missed you,” his mother said, folding clothes and packing them away in the chest of drawers. “Any luck finding a house? He’ll need room before you know it.”
“Nothing so far.” He stacked one of the soft blocks on Curtis’s head, and the boy shrieked with laughter when the block fell off.
“I’m guessing we walked into the hornet’s nest?” Betty asked, peering at him through the bifocal lenses she kept on a chain around her neck. “I thought I was going to have to rescue Curtis before they jumped on you.”
“I thought you were proposing?” his mother asked, continuing to unpack as if their conversation was nothing out of the ordinary.
“I did.” He sighed, placing the block on Curtis’s head again. No matter how bad his day was, his son’s giggle was as bright as the Texas sun.
They both turned then, regarding him curiously.
“Turned me down before I could get down on one knee and ask properly.” He shrugged.
“She’s lovely,” his mother pointed out. “All tall and willowy.”
Shanna had been petite, with dark hair and light brown eyes—the exact opposite of Renata.
“She’s beautiful.” There was no point denying it. “Beautiful. Funny.” He shook his head. “And stubborn. Too damn stubborn.”
“Language,” Betty chimed. “What reason did she give you?”
“Something about settling versus marrying for love and how she’s capable of doing this on her own.” He swallowed. “Like I said, stubborn.”
The mothers were staring at him then.
“Do you?” his mother asked.
“Do I what?” he asked. “Love her? How can I love someone I don’t even know?”
Betty clucked her tongue. “Well, dear, you knew her well enough to hop into bed and—”
“I get it.” He held his hands up. They’d hopped, eagerly, and enjoyed every minute of that long, cold night wrapped up in each other.
“Maybe in time?” Betty offered. “Not everyone gets struck with a lightning bolt, after all.”
Lightning bolts weren’t their problem. Those they had in spades. “Maybe.” He didn’t hold out much hope. He wasn’t sure his heart would ever heal enough to let someone else in. Or if he’d be brave enough to try again. Losing Shanna... It had almost destroyed him.
And Renata? It was only a matter of time before some man came along and fell head over heels for her. She’d get exactly what she wanted. Hell, what she deserved. So why did it rub him the wrong way to think about it?
Because his child’s welfare would be affected, that’s why.
“She said you were co-parenting.” Betty tapped her chin again. “What does that mean?”
“It means they take turns, I think.” His mother glanced his way. “Doesn’t it? Sharing big decisions, that sort of thing?”
“You got me.” He had no idea. She’d been acting like it was common knowledge. It wasn’t. Raising Curtis on his own hadn’t been a choice. And now, when he had the choice, he wouldn’t choose to go it alone again.
“That’s bad?” Betty asked.
“It’s not good.” He watched Curtis toddle across the room to his bag. He reached in, pulled out a few board books and carried them back to his blanket. “It’s not what’s best.”
“Marrying her is best?” His mother pushed the drawer shut.
“Of course it is.” He frowned at her, stacking up Curtis’s soft blocks into a tower. “What’s wrong with wanting to give my children a real family? To b
e there, day in and day out, through fevers and losing teeth and skinned knees and potty training?” Curtis was watching him, so he did the best he could to calm down. “All good, little man.”
Curtis smiled and knocked the blocks wide.
“I wish life were that simple for me, Curtis,” he said, running a hand over Curtis’s silky-soft curls.
“Her father is a real charmer.” His mother smiled. “His sons might want to beat the daylights out of you, but that Teddy Boone knows what it means to be a gentleman.”
“And those eyes,” Betty joined in. “Blue for miles.”
“And married. Just in case you were wondering.” He chuckled.
“I was just enjoying the view.” His mother winked.
“Well, shucks.” Betty sighed. “And rich to boot. I looked up the family on Google. Cattle. Oil. Land. Big-time. Renata is the only daughter.”
Rich or not, the Boones were good people. “You’d never know it.”
“I can’t tell you what to do,” his mother started. “And if I did, you’d just dig in and do the opposite anyway. But it seems to me you have a problem.”
He sat back against the side of the bed. “I’m all ears, Mom.”
“When you were little, and you had a rough day, what would I tell you?” she asked. “When you’d get disqualified in junior rodeo or get knocked down on the football field or have a girl break your heart?”
Betty sat in the rocking chair, glancing back and forth between them.
“I don’t think that applies.” He sighed, taking a block from his son and stacking them high again. “Now that I’m not a teenager.”
“You just told Curtis you wished things were easier.” She shrugged.
“I’m dying here.” Betty slapped her hands on her knees. “You can’t stop now.”
His mother picked up her toiletry bag and carried it to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway. “Anything worth doing or having won’t come easy.”
He waited for her to disappear into the bathroom before making a face at Curtis. “Your gramma thinks she’s imparting words of wisdom, Curt.”
“I think they were very wise words indeed.” Betty sat back in the rocking chair. “Better than any fortune cookie I ever got.”
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