But she couldn’t stop thinking about Sailor’s brother. The bacony goodness of dinner had distracted her for a while, but now she was thinking about it again.
“So do you have a buyer for Sailor?” she started.
Banks shifted a bit, closing his palm over the top of her arm.
“There is an interested party, yes.”
She tried to hide the disappointment she felt. She knew it was Banks’ business, but she’d have been lying if she tried to say she wouldn’t be sad to think of his ranch without Sailor on it.
“It must be hard. They’re so small and perfect and hilarious. You must get attached to them. I see the way you look at Dixie.”
He chuckled. “You’re not wrong. They really grow on you. But I can’t keep every foal that I breed, or else they’d eat me out of house and home.”
“I like her.”
“She likes you, too,” Banks said, before a long pause. “Maybe she’ll stick around. Who knows?”
“I don’t even know how to ride,” she said with a laugh.
Banks shrugged, then tugged her in a little snugger under his arm.
“I’ll teach you. When you’re not pregnant.”
She melted even further into his embrace, their bodies practically fused together at this point. Every now and then, she could feel Jellybean moving, almost like she was doing lazy somersaults.
“You see this future pretty clearly.”
“It’s not hard to do when it looks this good.”
—THIRTY-TWO—
“I know it’s seven o’clock on a Sunday morning, Rosie,” Banks said, leaning against the counter of Hinkley’s. The young waitress was casting him some serious side eye. But he didn’t want to think about what kind of look Norah would give him if he went back to his place empty handed. She’d probably even have Crash convinced to mutiny by the time he got back.
Rosie Anderson’s lips pressed into a firm line and she squinted at him accusingly before she drew a long breath, then let it out.
“Fine. I feel stupid even asking.”
“Isn’t there some waitressing rule about how the customer is always right or something?” he asked.
“I don’t care who you are, French fries at 7am is never right,” she said, turning toward the window to the kitchen to put in her order. “Yes, fries, Reg. To go.”
If you’re a pregnant lady who woke up in my bed, it is, he thought. Norah had rolled over and hadn’t even opened her eyes before she’d said ‘mmm, fries’. He’d had to ask her to repeat herself. When he’d offered hashbrowns instead, her eyes had welled up with tears. Reluctant as he was to leave the warm cocoon of his bed he’d made with her, he’d gotten up, stopping long enough to throw morning feed in to the horses, and here he was.
He rubbed a bit more sleep out of his eyes as Rosie poured him a cup of coffee at the counter. The diner was nearly empty—a bit early for a Sunday morning breakfast for most people—Sundays were often most busy after church, both the morning and evening service. That was fine by him, Banks figured, as he curled himself around the cup of coffee.
It wasn’t long before his mug was drained and Rosie dropped a take-out tray in front of him.
“Special order,” she said, giving him another dose of side eye. “For Norah, right?”
Banks collected the container and dropped a ten dollar bill on the counter. Norah still felt strange about all the talk—Banks was used to it by this point—but as her belly grew, Norah got more and more self-conscious about what people might be saying, especially when they were together, so he wasn’t about to fuel anything.
“Keep the change. Have a good day, Rosie.”
Rosie frowned, but took the bill, punching keys on the cash register as Banks made a swift departure. The ride back to his little spread wasn’t far, the fries were practically still sizzling when he pulled open the bedroom door to find Norah sitting up in bed reading with Crash curled into her side. The dog generally wasn’t allowed in the bed but another thing that had changed as Norah was growing was the dog’s insistence on being more or less velcroed to her side. He’d given up trying to admonish either one of them, only drawing the line that Crash had to be at the foot of the bed when there were two people in it. They still often woke up with a three-spoon bed, Crash as the baby.
Norah was sitting cross legged. She wore a tank top and panties and her belly curved down into the diamond her legs made. Her hair was sleep mussed and spread out around her face. Banks couldn’t help but smile when her face lit up. He might have brought her a million dollars, the way she was looking at him.
“Oh, you’re my hero,” she said, releasing a pent up breath with her words. Beside her, Crash remained tightly wedged against her thigh, only the end of his tail slapping the bed as he saw his master. Or former master, as it were.
“I do try.”
Banks settled on the side of the bed near her and opened the take out tray.
“Extra vinegar packets?” she asked, while looking for them. He’d grabbed a handful on his way out and he dug them out of his pocket to present to her, producing a delighted hiss from her. “Yesssss.”
She took the tray and he backed away, sliding back into the bed beside her. It was rare for him not to get up and start the day but the scene taking place in his bed was more enticing than he had expected.
“What have you two been reading?”
She wiped grease off her fingers onto one of the napkins he’d brought and held up a dog-eared copy of a book with a pregnant woman on the front. It proclaimed to contain ‘everything you need to know’.
“Did you know my bellybutton is probably going to stick out? And something called my mucus plug is going to pass when I’m ready to go into labor?”
Banks raised a brow and chuckled.
“And, and, and! My water might break like I’m dropping a jar of pickles.”
“It says that in there?” he asked, growing more amused.
“Well, not the bit about the jar of pickles. Nan told me that part,” Norah said, putting another three or four fries into her mouth.
“So what you’re telling me is it’s not all that different from mares foaling,” he said, stealing one of her fries. It prompted a growl of tiger proportions. He hurriedly stuffed the fries into his mouth with a grin. “Delivery tax.”
“Well I don’t think it’s exactly like a mare foaling…”
“Not far off,” he said with a chuckle. “Baby’s gotta come out. All the basic parts are the same. I just don’t think I’ll have to hold a tail out of the way.”
“You?” she queried, tipping her head, her fries all but forgotten.
“Yeah, me. Who else?”
Her brow furrowed.
“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.” She paused and he could almost tangibly feel her anxiety.
“If you want me to be there, I will be there, Norah,” he said, getting serious. She looked a lot the way he’d felt when he’d realized Dixie was foaling. “Just say the word. I’m happy to support you there, too.”
“Nothing I’ve said has scared you off?”
He chuckled.
“No, nothing you’ve said has scared me off. You’ll probably want someone, though, and I’d be honored if it was me.”
She let out a breath and seemed to relax. He tucked her up under his arm and she leaned her head onto his shoulder, blowing out another breath.
“I’ve got you, girl,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss against the top of her head. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
—THIRTY-THREE—
“All right. Water, snacks,” Layla said, starting an inventory.
Norah laughed.
“It’s just a forty five minute drive.”
“A forty five minute drive with two pregnant ladies. Neither of us needs to be hangry right now,” Layla insisted, waving out the window to Mason, who was standing in front of Nan’s legs. She started her car and pulled away, honking twice for her son’s benefit.
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She’d initially stopped by to drop off some maternity clothes for Norah—she had a few flowy things that still fit but Layla’s belly had already outgrown a few things and she’d been happy to pass those on to Norah. And then they’d gotten talking about a good sale at a baby store in Johnston, and then Nan was offering to keep Mason and now they were on a little road trip to check it out. Norah hadn’t had any plans for the afternoon and Banks was attending a meeting in a neighboring town. It was like serendipity that everything worked out for her to spend an afternoon looking at baby stuff. This made everything feel that much more real.
“I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
“Nonsense, I needed to go anyways. And you can start a registry so people can buy you gifts,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, a little shopping trip without a toddler in tow is good for my soul. So it’s as much for me as it is for you. Plus, I want to get the gossip.”
Thinking of her run in with Rosie, Norah blushed a little.
“Well, Rosie thinks I trapped Banks by getting pregnant and then landed here and demanded he take care of me and Jellybean.”
Layla laughed out loud, shaking her head.
“Oh Rosie. I’m not sure if Banks told you and it likely doesn’t matter now because it was so long ago, but they had a summer fling probably six years ago. She’s harmless, but she’s always been a little petty anytime Banks is seen with anyone besides Nan. She’s come onto me before. After Nate and I were married.”
It was a little smack in the chest to hear about what Banks might have done before she came along. They’d never discussed it. Granted, she’d never asked and he already knew about her most recent ex and everything that came along with that. She supposed it would be stranger to find out he was a virgin in his mid-thirties before she’d come along. And their nights together confirmed there was no way in hell that man had been a virgin up until this summer.
“Has Banks dated a lot?” she asked. “I mean, do I have to worry about a lot of other women making catty comments in my vicinity?”
Layla laughed again, guiding her car out onto the exit toward Johnston.
“No, I think you’re safe. He’s had a few casual things with people in town, but his last serious girlfriend was quite a while ago and she was from Newton, an hour away. She’s married now, with a middle-schooler, if that gives you any idea how long ago it was. I’m telling you, I haven’t seen Banks make the time or attention for anyone like he does for you. Not in a long time. He’s got it bad, and I’m assuming, based on how many times I’ve seen Banks’ truck in Nan’s yard this week, that you’ve got it, too.”
Norah blushed a bit.
“I feel terrible laying all this on you. You probably feel like this is TMI hearing about your brother-in-law this way.”
“First of all, I still pick up shifts at the bar, so I hear everything about everyone—I’ve heard enough about my brother-in-law and my husband to write a book about it. And second, it looks like you need to tell it more than I don’t need to hear it.”
Norah’s heart warmed. She was so grateful that Layla had been working that shift at the bar when she and Rob had come in. Who knew how things could have gone if she hadn’t been there, hadn’t picked up that things were going sideways, hadn’t called Banks. And now she had a friend, which was more than she could really have said for her life in Denver. She would never have guessed that Three Rivers could hold all of the goodness she never realized she’d been missing.
“So have at it,” Layla prompted when Norah didn’t start right away.
Norah grimaced.
“He told me he loves me.”
Layla’s brows shot up, and she glanced over at Norah, working to keep her eyes on the road.
“Norah! That’s a big frigging deal!”
“I know,” she said, because she did—as much thought as she put into whether she could say it back, she knew he’d gone way out on a limb to tell her. “I just…I’m hesitant.”
“Lady, he is crazy about you and it’s pretty obvious you’re crazy about him.”
“Well yes, but…what if this is just hormones talking?”
Layla reined it in then, and nodded thoughtfully, refocusing her attention to the highway stretching ahead of them.
“Okay, that’s a fair question. Hormones do make crazy sometimes.”
“I mean, he makes me feel good and I care about him. But part of me is worried it’s just all the pregnancy stuff going on, and the fact that he’s been so kind to me really clouding my vision, making it hard to see everything clearly.”
“Shouldn’t he be the one worried about that?”
Norah chuckled.
“Well yes, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m just taking advantage of him. I think that’s why Rosie bothered me so badly. Because from her point of view, it’s just me being a shitty person, not a legitimate relationship.”
“Norah, you’re not a shitty person. The fact that you’re even thinking about this tells me that much. You are right, though, hormones can skew things dramatically, at this point in the game, and then for weeks after your little one arrives. There are some pretty clear ways to tell if you’re feeling all loved up solely because of oxytocin or because you’re actually feeling love.”
“Like what?”
“Like, when you think about your future, is he there?”
She remembered his words from the Spring Fling all too well—in fact, they’d been hard pressed to get out of her head ever since he’d said them. Especially the bit about her being pregnant again—with a child they’d made together. She could see Jellybean, her hair braided, riding a pony alongside Banks on his horse. She’d call him dad because she wouldn’t know any different, because the fact that it wasn’t true didn’t matter, because Banks would be a better father to her than Rob ever could have imagined being.
Norah drew a deep breath; the imaging gave her butterflies. She released that breath slowly, a smile drawing her features as she did. Yes, when she thought about her future, it included Banks—there was no doubt about it.
“Yes.”
“And you think about him when he’s not around?”
“It doesn’t happen very often that he’s not around, but yes.”
“I think it’s pretty safe to say this isn’t just a hormone thing. I know it’s hard to make yourself vulnerable, especially after what happened when you got here, but I think it’s worth coming clean about your feelings with Banks. He’s always been one to respect that sort of thing. Honesty is the best policy for him; it’s why he makes such a good sheriff. That and his driving need to take care of things—this town and everything and everyone in it.”
She knew better than to question if his interest was driven by his impulse to take care of things—he’d laid out a pretty clear future that included the two of them and if it was impulse, he wouldn’t have put so much thought into it.
—THIRTY-FOUR—
Banks probably should have made his presence known, but he couldn’t help himself. From the doorway of the office she’d dubbed as ‘hers’, he watched Norah putter about. It had only taken half the summer but she was nearly all the way through the stacks of jumbled papers that had met her on the first day. She’d let him help up until a few weeks ago, when she insisted that if he kept helping her, she’d both run out of things to do too soon and also not be able to get any work done at all. He’d have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it a little to see how flustered she got when he got, and stayed too close.
Nan’s meddling had been annoying, but he couldn’t deny that employing Norah was one of her better ideas. He’d thought it pushy and a bit overstepping in the beginning, but it had turned out all right. The office was running like a finely tuned machine, and she handled a lot of the non-emergency calls during her office hours. He didn’t have to worry about filing reports or little fiddly paperwork things like inventory, because she took care of it. What he might have liked most of all was getting the
chance to see all the little facets of her personality that might otherwise have taken years to see. The way she absently rubbed Crash’s ears while she scrolled through spreadsheets, the way she interacted with the people of Three Rivers. The way she made him feel was important, but she was beginning to endear herself to the residents of the town and it made her that much more dear to him. She remembered small details about people, asked after previous problems she knew they’d had, and treated every single one of them, even Rosie Anderson, with as much kindness and empathy as he could have asked for.
She hummed to herself and turned back toward the front of the office with a sheaf of papers in hand, nearly jumping out of her skin when she saw him standing there.
“How long have you been watching me?” she asked.
“Oh just a couple minutes,” he said, pulling her door mostly closed and striding into the office to settle into the chair across the desk from hers. She put down her papers and put a hand on her hip, shaking her head.
“Creep.”
“C’mere,” he said.
The kind-of-sassy smile she got made him wild. She had really come into herself, and the cocky bravado she put on when was trying to put not-so-work-appropriate thoughts out of mind did nothing but ramp up his inappropriate thoughts.
“Did you just get back from Newton?”
“Stop changing the subject and come here,” he said, patting his knee. Still she resisted. “The meeting was fine, but I missed you, so come here.”
He saw her chest rise and she seemed to steel herself up before she rounded the desk. He reached a hand out for her and she hesitated, but then let him close her fingers into his. He gave her a little jerk and with laughter, she tumbled right into his lap, just like he’d planned.
“You’re the worst,” she said, but she was laughing, and carefully arranged herself sideways on his lap, looping her arms around his neck. She lowered her head and kissed him—she didn’t do it often when they were at the office—she cared about public perception and hated to be even a little too friendly with him when Carter was around. She cupped his jaw and pressed her forehead to his, smiling. “But you’re mine.”
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