Wannabe in Wyoming (Antelope Rock Book 1)
Page 25
Instead of just blurting out their child’s sex to him, she’d asked Ginger Moore to come over and dye her hair pink. After drying Willow’s hair, her friend had helped her tuck it all up under her cowboy hat before leaving. Willow had then called Nathan into the house and told him to sit on the couch. She’d come out of their bedroom wearing nothing but the hat, her tattoos, and her nipple rings, which she’d just removed yesterday in anticipation of nursing, and straddled his lap the best she could with the baby bump between them. When Nathan had lifted the hat from her head, the long pink strands had tumbled down past her shoulders. It was the third time she’d ever seen her husband cry—the first time had been when she’d told him she was pregnant after his proposal, and the second time, at their wedding when he’d recited his vows to her. To say he was thrilled they were having a girl was an understatement. He was already planning to teach her how to shoot and defend herself. Willow had a feeling the poor girl wouldn’t be allowed on a date until she was at least twenty-five, maybe not even then. Shannon Cherry Casey, named for Nathan’s sister and her mother’s nickname, was going to be the most well-protected girl in the county, with her veteran Daddy and a ranch full of honorary uncles between all the men at both the JP and Skyview ranches.
Moving Ethel out of the way, Nathan sat next to Willow and handed her the pink and purple gift bag. She took it, finding it heavier than she’d thought it would be for such a small bag, and set her coffee down on the side table. “What’s this?”
More presents? Their kitchen windowsills were full of succulents now, and it seemed every time the man went to town, he came home with something for her, even if it was just one of the chocolate bars she’d been craving.
“Open it.”
After she removed several layers of tissue paper, the rich smell of wood and lacquer wafted out. She reached in and lifted a rectangular object out of the bag. She gasped when she saw it was a box, identical to the one her father’s letters were in, right down to the cherry blossoms and puzzle to open it. “How? Where?”
Nathan chuckled and reached across her to grab the older box from the table beside her. “You never noticed the initials on the back of your father’s box, did you?”
He turned it over and pointed to three small letters carved into the bottom right corner. JPU. They could only stand for one person she knew. Jeremiah Peter Urban. Stunned, she ran her fingers over the letters, and then checked the bottom of the box Nathan had given her. The same initials had been carved into the same exact spot. “Jeremiah made these?”
“Uh-huh. I noticed the initials a few months ago and asked him if he’d made the box. He said your father had him design it after his divorce. Jeremiah was around twenty at the time. I guess Jason wanted a safe place for the letters after Chasity almost burned them.”
She reverently fingered the cherry blossoms on the new box. “I know he likes to do woodwork, but I never realized he was this talented. He never lets anyone else in his little workshop, not even me.”
“He calls it his sanctuary. I think it’s because he can just be himself in there. No one is watching him, judging him, or criticizing him. I get the feeling his parents never encouraged him to be anything but a cattle rancher who would take over the family business after they died. Even after they moved away, he still can’t find the courage to show the rest of the world his talent. If the box had been for anyone else but you, I don’t think he would’ve made it. Apparently, it had taken quite a bit of convincing and some money, at a time when Jeremiah really needed it, for him to give in and make the box for your father. Jeremiah said when he’d finally delivered the box to your father, it’d been one of the few times he’d seen something other than misery and anger in Jason’s eyes. He said the best he could describe it was a combination of longing and regret.”
Leaning over, she kissed Nathan on the lips. “Thank you for this.”
His eyes sparkled. “Open the box, Wannabe.”
She gave him a quizzical look but did as he’d requested. Her eyes filled with tears when she lifted the lid and saw a stack of letters inside, wrapped up with baling twine. The top envelope had her scrawled penmanship on it and was addressed to “Any Soldier”.
“Both my letters and yours are in there, and I put them all in order. When our daughter is old enough, I figure she’ll want to know all about how we met and fell in love. She’ll also want to know about her grandparents—all of them—and also my sister. I have plenty of pictures and stuff from my family, but your father’s letters tell so much more about him, your mom, and you than any photograph ever could.”
Willow kissed him again. “I love you so much. Thank you doesn’t feel like a big enough thing to say.”
“You’re welcome, baby.” He took both boxes and put them on the table. “Ready to go?”
She nodded. “Yeah, if you can help me up.”
Chuckling, he said, “My pleasure,” and stood before taking both her hands and helping her to her feet.
Today would’ve been her father’s fifty-eighth birthday, and they were taking flowers to the cemetery to leave on his grave. The headstone Willow had ordered a few months ago was finally in place. She’d selected a rose-colored granite slab and had requested that cherry blossoms be carved into it along with the names of both her parents, with their years of births and deaths. She’d arranged for her mother’s ashes to be removed from a mausoleum in Philadelphia and sent to her, so she could bury them with her father. Fate may have only given them a short time together in life, just long enough that Willow came into existence, but now they could be joined forever in the afterlife.
As Nathan gathered the boxes and her coffee mug, movement out of the corner of Willow’s eye caught her attention. “Well, look who finally decided to show up. Fred, why’re you running late today and who do you have with you?”
The prairie dog sniffed the air as Ethel rushed over to greet him and his much smaller companion, nosing and circling them both. “Looks like he brought one of his offspring with him—maybe showing his kid the ropes,” Nathan suggested.
Willow concurred with him. Without fail, Fred made his daily mecca to the dish of seeds she left out for him on the back porch. To keep the birds, who had their own feeders on the property, from eating it all on him, she’d put a dome cover on it and turned the opening, so it was facing the wall. She left just enough room for Fred to climb in and stuff his cheeks with the goodies. He would then take them back to his family. “I guess we should name him Little Ricky then, even though that was Lucy and Desi’s son.”
“That works for me, but how can you tell if it’s a boy?”
“I can’t. But then again, I have no idea if Fred is a boy either.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I ever got close enough to take a peek to see what sort of parts he’s packing.”
He stared at her in shock for a moment then burst out laughing. “And all this time I’ve felt like a clueless idiot, trying to figure out how you knew it was a male!”
The drive to the cemetery was quiet but comfortable. It was one of the things she loved about Nathan—he didn’t always have to fill the silence and it never felt strained. When they arrived, Nathan helped her from the truck. Her center of balance was so wonky lately, he refused to let her get in or out of the vehicle alone, terrified she’d fall. Most of the time, she let him mother her, knowing it came from a place of love, not control.
Standing at her parents’ grave, Willow cradled her stomach with both hands, rubbing circles around the bulge as Shannon kicked away happily. The headstone was gorgeous. The cherry blossoms were carved so intricately that she was sure the flowers would burst from the stone at any moment.
“Do you want a minute alone, baby?” Nathan asked from where he stood by her side, his large warm palm resting on the small of her back. If he was near her, he had to be touching her. It was a habit she didn’t mind a bit.
“No. To be honest, I’m not really sure what to say. I know I’m glad they’re resting beside eac
h other. I know I’m grateful that he taught me all he did through those letters. I’ll probably always be sad when I think about what they lost out on—the life they could have had. I’m not overly religious, you know that, but I really hope they’re together somewhere. If anyone on this earth ever deserved to be with the love of their life, it’s those two.”
“Well said, Willow. He’d be proud of you—they both would.”
Tipping her head back, she stared at the endless blue Wyoming sky. The breeze ruffled her hair, blowing a pink strand across her face where it caught on her lips. Brushing it aside, something moved on her left, catching her eye. Turning her head, she swore there was a man standing with a woman in the shadows near the base of a large oak tree, waving. She blinked, and the image disappeared, but a perception of rightness remained in her heart. Maybe it’d been a shadow, a trick of the light, or maybe it’d been something more. Either way, a feeling of peace settled on her, a sense of calm and completion. She knew, unequivocally, that she was exactly where she was supposed to be, with Nathan by her side and their child growing under her heart.
Smiling, she met his gaze. His eyes were so blue, so bright and clear, they rivaled the cloudless sky above. In her womb, their daughter kicked out, once again making her presence known. Willow reached for Nathan’s hand. “C’mon—take me for ice cream. Your baby girl is craving some mint chocolate chip again.”
Laughing, he tucked her against his side, and his familiar warm scent flooded her senses with a comfort that she didn’t have words to describe. With a kiss to her temple, he said, “Sure thing, Wannabe. Let’s go.”
Epilogue
Jeremiah strode down the path that ran along the fence lines of both his and Willow and Nathan’s ranch. Over the past year, the dirt had gotten well packed from everyone using it to either walk or ride the horses or ATVs on. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Autumn had arrived along with colder temperatures. He didn’t know why he’d decided to walk over to Skyview Ranch, home to the woman who’d become his best friend and her husband. Being neighbors in Wyoming didn’t necessarily mean you could even see your neighbor’s house.
He was tired to the depths of his soul, but the fresh air on his face and the endless sky and wide-open vistas of this land made him feel a little less alone for some reason. After the rodeo and argument with Dale last fall, then watching Willow and Nathan fall in love and start a family, he was out of sorts. Staying in the closet was just something he did. He’d never considered coming out, not ever. He’d heard too many homophobic comments and seen the damage even rumors could do to other gay men in the ranching community, that he’d resigned himself to making do with one-night stands in Cheyenne. He was forty-two years old, and he’d spent thirty of those years hiding who he really was. He didn’t know any way to live other than behind closed doors.
Drawing closer to the house, he saw the couple curled together on the side porch swing, a blanket covering them, their heads touching. They leaned against each other, speaking quietly, the hushed words broken only by the occasional giggle from Willow. Jeremiah’s chest clenched in envy, and he spun on his heel. He might be a lonely asshole, but he wasn’t going to break up such an intimate moment because he was feeling maudlin.
The sound of a door opening drew his attention. Glancing to his left, he saw a strip of light appear between Skyview’s two barns. From where he’d stopped in his tracks, he had a perfect view of Dale’s trailer. The gruff man had stepped out onto a small slab of concrete that served as his patio. A flame flared, briefly illuminating the man’s handsome face, and then went out, leaving behind a red glow at the end of a cigarette.
Jeremiah’s feet moved of their own accord. Was it the thought of his empty house behind him that had him closing the distance between himself and the man he couldn’t stop dreaming about? Hell if he knew. It’d been months since Dale had confronted him at the rodeo, and Jeremiah had thought of little else ever since. It the past, he would’ve headed into Cheyenne to blow off some steam and put whatever was bothering him behind him, leaving it at the feet of some random hook-up. But since meeting Dale, Cheyenne no longer held an allure for Jeremiah. He knew something had to give before he went insane, but he didn’t know if he was ready for it. He’d avoided the man as much as possible over the past several months, but it’d done nothing to quell the desire he felt whenever he caught a mere glimpse of Dale or even when someone mentioned his name.
“Come on, cowboy, I can hear your footsteps,” Dale said in a low, husky voice as Jeremiah drew closer. It sent delicious shivers down Jeremiah’s spine. “Don’t worry though—the lovebirds just went inside and never saw you.”
Ignoring the evident dig about him being in the closet, Jeremiah murmured, “Evening.” Seriously? That’s all you got? Who says blah shit like that? Him, apparently.
Chuckling, Dale finished his cigarette, stabbing the butt out in a small, metal bucket filled with sand. “Want a beer?”
“I’m not a man that ever says no to a beer.” One step . . . two . . . three . . . he kept moving. His palms became sweaty, and a thick lump formed in his throat. He was close enough now to see Dale’s face. Wreathed in shadows from his hat, he was even more handsome. He looked mysterious and dangerous, a deadly combination that woke Jeremiah’s libido up with a jolt of electricity, shooting straight to his cock, making him half-hard. Willing the response away, he walked even closer.
Dale smiled wryly. “This one you might. It’s my new batch of home brew. Might be good. Might taste like an old man’s nut sack—no way to know until you try it.”
“You’ve tasted an old man’s nut sack?” Jeremiah laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months.
Reaching behind him, Dale pushed the trailer door open and waved him forward. “Come in, I’ll tell you all about it.”
Doffing his hat, Jeremiah walked up the steps and through the door, feeling as if he’d just entered a wolf’s den and he was the prey. Heaven help him.
Afterword
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Other Books by J.B. Havens
Zombie Instinct Series
Molly: The Beginning
Molly: Immersion
Molly: Reemergence
Steel Corps Series
Core of Steel
Hardened by Steel
Forged by Steel
Bound by Steel
Solid Steel
Steel Corps/Trident Security Crossovers with Samantha A. Cole
No Way in Hell
Anthologies and Short Stories
Beyond the Night: An Anthology
Ashes & Madness, A Molly Everett Short Story
High Tech/Low Life: An Easytown Novels Anthology
About J.B. Havens
J.B. Havens lives in rural Pennsylvania, and is a wife and mother of three, a boy and twin girls. She has a love for a good cheesesteak and anything that involves coffee or chocolate. When she’s not caring for her family, she is busy researching and writing her next novel.
Find JB on her website where you can find character bios and even a short story or two. She loves to hear from readers, so reach out and tell her what you think!
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Other Books by Samantha A. Cole
The Trident Security Series
Leather & Lace
His Angel
Waiting For Him
Not Negotiable: A Novella
Topping The Alpha
Watching From the Shadows
Whiskey Tribute: A Novella
Tickle His Fancy
No Way in Hell: A Steel Corp/Trident Security Crossover: Books 1 & 2
Absolving His Sins
Option Number Three: A Novella
Salvaging His Soul
Trident Security Field Manual
The Deimos Series
Handling Haven: Special Forces: Operation Alpha
Cheating the Devil: Special Forces: Operation Alpha
The Trident Security Omega Team Series
Mountain of Evil
A Dead Man’s Pulse
Forty Days & One Knight
The Doms of The Covenant Series
Double Down & Dirty
Entertaining Distraction
Knot a Chance
The Malone Brothers Series
Take the Money and Run
The Devil's Spare Change
The Blackhawk Security Series
Tuff Enough
Blood Bound
Hazard Falls Series
Don’t Fight It
Don’t Shoot the Messenger
Master Key Series
Master Key Resort
Largo Ridge Series
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