She smiled. “Me, too.” She quickly ate another bite of stir-fry. “Okay, first question. ‘Your newborn is crying inconsolably. You rock her, you feed her, you change her. Still crying her eyes out. You...(A) Call her pediatrician and ask for advice, even if it’s midnight. Every doctor has an after-hours service. (B) Let her cry. She has to learn to self-soothe! (C) You’re too busy crying yourself from frustration at how hard parenthood is to help your newborn.’”
“Um, the last one?” he said. “Kidding. Although I can see that happening. I’m going to say A. According to my fatherhood book and Paul Woodsley, newborns shouldn’t be left to cry and self-soothe because they’re too young for that.”
Cassidy grinned. “Correct! Now you ask me the next one.”
He slid the magazine over. “‘Your baby is ten months old. You’ve never left him with a sitter because, to be honest, it makes you a little nervous. You now have two tickets—great seats!—to your dream event. You...(A) Get over yourself and ask the teenager next door if she can sit for you. (B) Give the tickets away. (C) Call a trusted sitter from the list you’ve been adding to since the baby was born, developed from friends and family and neighbors—’
“Wait,” he said, looking at Cassidy. “People go ten months without leaving their homes?”
She laughed. “I’m sure some do. I can imagine being a very protective parent, not wanting to leave my baby with a stranger. If none of my friends are available and I desperately need a sitter, I’d probably cancel on the event. I sure wouldn’t choose A, desperately asking sullen teen Sarah Peterman from the Blossom B and B!”
“I’d watch the baby for you,” he said.
She reached across and squeezed his hand. “And I for you.” She took a sip of her water. “But hopefully we’d be attending the events together. I’m gonna go with C. The one with the trusted list.”
“Correct,” he said. “Though think about all the events I’ll be able to get out of once the baby is born. Dreaded fundraisers. I’m fine with writing the check. It’s the small talk that kills me.”
“I’ve always liked small talk. Nice and light conversation. I chat with people in line at the grocery store, while waiting to get my car inspected, with the mail carrier, you name it.”
“Weirdo,” he said with a smile. “A weirdo who makes great chicken stir-fry.”
She laughed. “Did you find a movie for us to watch?”
Such a normal, easy question. Much easier than any of those in the parenting quiz. And yet it made his throat close up to the point he had to put his fork down.
The craziest thing was that he wanted to be sitting there with Cassidy, having this home-cooked meal and taking parenting quizzes and then watching a romantic comedy or thriller. It was just the concept itself that made the walls of this tiny apartment feel like they were closing in. How did that make sense?
Hell, maybe Daphne was right. Maybe he was fighting against his feelings for Cassidy. He clearly was.
Why had he talked to his father earlier? Why had he gone to Daphne’s? The key to him being okay with a real relationship with Cassidy was being completely out of his own life, away from memories—past and present—that reinforced how he felt. Love and marriage didn’t last. People got hurt. One of his uncles always said, “Start as you mean to continue,” and Brandon thought that was a great saying, important advice. If he didn’t get emotionally involved, no one would get hurt. He and Cassidy could have a terrific platonic relationship, and their child would be raised happily. No yelling parents. No You said. You promised. Why didn’t you. I hate you. None of that.
Watching a movie would just make things worse. He’d be too in his own head, overthinking, getting way ahead of himself. What he needed was to distract himself. To lose himself. He needed Lewistown in Cassidy’s tiny apartment.
“I have a better idea,” he said. “Let’s make our own unfilmed love scene in your bedroom.”
That brought a giggle out of her and a slight blush to her cheeks. “Sounds good to me. Best movie possible.”
“Right?” he asked, reaching for her hand and kissing it. I just don’t want to hurt you. I’d hate myself forever.
As they finished dinner, he felt better. He could sway things, as he’d just done, to make domesticity in a real relationship bearable. Maybe that would help. But for how long?
Once in the bedroom, Brandon forgot all about being claustrophobic and commitment-phobic. Cassidy was like a dream come true in bed, much better than his fantasies had ever been. They fit together so well, in perfect rhythm, in total sync.
When the alarm on the bedside table went off at 5:00 a.m. the next morning, his eyes were already open, the walls once again moving in. He just needed a little time to regroup, to think. He’d go riding, get his bearings, figure out what he was going to do. He had to tread very carefully.
As she stirred in bed and then sat up, he quickly dressed, turned down her kind offer to come down to the shop for coffee and breakfast, and for a moment, just admired how beautiful Cassidy looked all sleepy-eyed, her blond hair a little wild. He kissed her goodbye, his head a jumble.
As she walked him to the door, he realized he’d never mentioned that she was invited to the family party. “I completely forgot to mention this last night. That party my dad’s throwing? He personally invited you because you’re now family. He’s the only one besides Daphne who knows about the pregnancy. We can tell my brothers and uncles at the party Saturday night.”
She stared at him. “You completely forgot to mention this? How?”
“I had a lot on my mind last night. The talk with my dad was weird. Then I went to Daphne’s and that got weird, too. Then the day went unexpected places and by the time I arrived here, I was tied in knots, I guess. And once we were in bed, I forgot everything.” He tried to smile, but it must have come out awkwardly. He sighed inwardly, hating what he was doing. Hating how unsettled and off balance he was. How damned uncomfortable. With the only woman he’d ever been completely himself with. Hell, maybe that was a lot of the problem here.
“You okay, Brandon?” she asked, studying him.
Not really. I don’t know what I’m doing. I want to be with you. But it feels wrong, like we’re on a kiddie roller coaster that’s about turn wild and crash.
How did he explain all that?
“You did seem kind of distant last night,” Cassidy said. “Same thing this morning. You can talk to me, you know.”
“I know.” He made a show of looking at his phone for the time. “I have to go. Early-morning video-conference call. Have a good day.”
“You, too,” she said...hesitantly.
The last thing he wanted was to make her feel insecure. He was being distant and he knew it.
But I don’t want to talk about it until I work it out for myself. I want to give this a bit more time. I’m not ready to tell her it’s not working for me.
If he did tell her he wanted to go back to the way things were before Lewistown, who knew what she’d do? Maybe she’d be brokenhearted and he’d feel like the pits of hell. Maybe she’d be furious and tell him she’d see him in court to discuss custody issues. A cold blast ran up his spine.
He really needed some wisdom from Winona Cobbs, but the elderly woman would just give him some cryptic two-liner and send him on his way.
He was going to have to figure this out for himself.
Chapter Thirteen
Cassidy practically flew down the steps to Java and Juice at five thirty on Monday morning. She wanted to make sure the bulk of her baking was done by the time Winona Cobbs would arrive at six thirty for her reading.
And especially given the new direction of her relationship with Brandon—and the awkwardness between them Friday night and Saturday morning—Cassidy wanted to hear that all would be well. Plus, she was dying to know what Winona had meant the other day. You’ll be glad you d
id it.
Glad she did what? Told Brandon what she needed? What else had she done lately?
As she let herself in the back door, she wondered if Brandon was already regretting agreeing to a committed relationship. She’d gotten to know him so well that when he’d come over on Friday night and was a little quieter than usual, she’d taken it as him distancing himself. Sure, maybe he had been preoccupied with whatever had gone on with his father, then Daphne, and the rest of the afternoon, which he’d mentioned had been heavy.
But forgetting to mention that she was invited to his family party until he was about to leave the next morning? That was telling. Did he not want her there? Did putting her and family in the same sentence make him uncomfortable? Was it too much too soon?
Something was bothering him. Maybe being home, back on his own turf, had him feeling uneasy about being in a real relationship, opening himself up to risk. The magic of getting away for two days was one thing, but being home, business as usual, might have gotten its grips on him. He hadn’t suggested getting together Saturday night, and though she’d picked up her phone ten times to text him to come over and talk, she wanted to give him some breathing room.
He’d texted twice on Sunday, a meme that had made her laugh and a link to an article on what type of music babies in the womb should listen to—all kinds. His getting in touch had made her feel better, and she’d had a busy bunch of hours at Java and Juice, then had spent the rest of the afternoon working on an expansion plan for the business. She’d had a brainstorm of opening up another location in Lewistown, where she’d made so many happy memories. The bustling town would be perfect. She couldn’t put the ole cart before the horse, though; she’d make an appointment with her bank and, if she got approved for a loan based on her business plan, she’d go scout out locations.
Incredible, she thought. Not too long ago, she was moping around a barn on her thirtieth birthday. Now she was in love. Going to be a mother. And possibly have her business dreams realized. She had to stop worrying about Brandon. If they weren’t okay, he’d tell her. Brandon was honest and forthright. And anyway, Winona Cobbs would set her straight very soon.
The next hour went by too slowly, even though Cassidy was super busy, making muffins and scones and her special English muffins for the breakfast sandwiches that Hank and Helen would cook up. Finally, dozens of baked goods out of the oven and in the display case, a knock came at the back door.
Cassidy dashed over. Winona stood there, wearing a purple turban, a long purple sweater, and silver-colored leggings. She also wore purple cowboy boots. Cassidy loved the way Winona dressed. Ninety-four and full of style.
“Morning, Winona,” she said. “I’ve got your Danishes waiting for you. What’s your coffee order?” she asked, heading back to the counter.
“I’d like something fun instead of the boring old regular coffee I always have at home. Maybe something with caramel. You pick.”
“I’ve got just the drink for you,” Cassidy said. “A caramel macchiato. Vanilla syrup, steamed milk, espresso and a drizzle of caramel syrup. So comforting and delicious.”
Winona winked. “I’ll take it.”
Cassidy made the drink and plated a Danish, bagging up one more as promised in case it slipped her mind later. “Here you are.”
“Let’s talk in the kitchen,” Winona said. “I know you have some cleanup to do.”
“Right you are.”
Winona eyed her. “I know.”
Cassidy smiled and led the way into the kitchen. She started cleaning up bits of dough and powdered sugar and icing. “First, I’d like to ask you what you meant by ‘You’ll be glad you did it.’”
“You haven’t done it yet,” Winona said. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
Cassidy brightened. “Oh. Well, since I’ll be glad, that’s fine, then.”
“Yes, it is.” Winona sat in the chair Helen always used when she needed a break from standing. “Here’s what I have to tell you, Miss Ware. You are not the captain of your own ship—not anymore.”
Cassidy frowned. “But my mother loved that saying. She always told me that I was the captain of my own ship.”
“You used to be. But not anymore. You have a co-captain now.”
“Oh! Of course, you mean Brandon.”
“Yes, I mean Brandon.” Winona sipped her drink. “My, is this good. So rich and decadent. I just love it.”
Cassidy smiled. “I’m glad.”
Winona took a bite of her Danish. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious.” She stood and put the rest of the Danish into the bag with the other one, then took another sip of her coffee. “Have a lovely day, dear.”
Cassidy stared at her. “Wait. What about my reading?”
Winona tilted her head. “Weren’t you listening?”
“I’m not the captain of my own ship, not anymore?” Cassidy asked, trying not to sound too disappointed. That was her entire reading?
Winona adjusted her turban. “Exactly.”
With that, Winona took her bag of Danishes and left by the back door.
Humph.
Cassidy glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. That meant her appointment had lasted all of fifteen minutes. And half that time was spent making the caramel macchiato!
She couldn’t think too much more about it because Helen and Hank arrived, and then a lot of customers, helping Cassidy’s mood by ordering a lot of pricey drinks and smoothies.
“Hi, Cassidy!”
She turned to find Sofia Sanchez coming up to the counter. A beautiful young woman, Sofia’s usually straight long red hair was styled in beachy waves past her shoulders, her dark brown eyes on the beautiful red coat hanging on a hook by the aprons. Sofia was a stylist at BH Couture, where Brandon had bought the coat.
“I love that coat so much,” Sofia said with a grin. “It’s one of my favorites at BH Couture.”
Cassidy grinned back. “And I hear I have you to thank. I’m a little mortified to know you caught me staring all dreamily at the coat for weeks to confirm it for Brandon.”
“Are you kidding? What do you think I do all day at work? Stare at items totally out of my price range, even with my employee discount.”
Cassidy laughed. “Well, thank you. I love it.”
“I have to say, I never thought Brandon Taylor would settle down. We only went out a couple times before he told me he’d just like to be friends. But I got the sense immediately that he was the ultimate confirmed bachelor. That no woman would ever win his heart to get him down the aisle.”
Had Cassidy won his heart? She really wasn’t sure. Sometimes she thought so, based on how he looked at her, how he acted. Then sometimes, like Friday night and Saturday morning... “Sofia, what do you mean you never thought he would settle down?” Sofia must think he had settled down. Because of the coat?
“Oh, it’s clear you’re the one,” Sofia said. “Just like my sister Camilla was the one for the former Most Eligible Bachelor in Bronco—he-who-supposedly-wouldn’t-be-tamed Jordan Taylor. Seems like when Taylor men finally fall, they fall hard and that’s that.” She glanced at the coat. “Oh yes. He fell hard.”
Cassidy glanced at the coat also. “Men have been buying women expensive gifts since the dawn of time. Hard to read anything into that.”
“Yeah, but I saw the look in his eyes and heard the emotion in his voice when he was double-checking about the coat. Love knocks a man upside the head. For a while there, he’s all disoriented. Then he comes to and fully wakes up. Brandon strikes me as someone who’s been trying to control his single status for years. But no one can control how they feel deep down. Not Jordan Taylor and not Brandon.”
“Thank you,” Cassidy whispered. “I might have needed to hear that right now. Any coffee drink or smoothie on the house.”
“Oooh, I’ll take a berry explosion smoothie,” Sofia sai
d.
As Cassidy made the drink, she couldn’t help but wonder what Sofia’s love life was like. Given the personal conversation they’d just had about Cassidy, she could probably ask. But she didn’t want to pry since Sofia hadn’t brought it up herself.
A few minutes later, when Cassidy handed over her drink and then watched her walk away, she was amazed at how full of surprises life really was. At Jordan and Camilla’s wedding, Cassidy had been a little jealous of Sofia, especially when she and Brandon had been talking so close. And now, Sofia was the one who’d lifted Cassidy’s spirits.
Her phone pinged with a text, a much-needed interruption from her thoughts. Except the text was from Brandon.
How’d the reading go?
Cassidy bit her lip and texted her reply.
Not sure. She told me I wasn’t the captain of my own ship anymore, that I had a co-captain.
Am I the co-captain or is the baby?
Cassidy hadn’t even considered the baby in that equation.
You are—I confirmed. Winona left after fifteen minutes.
Yeah, she shooed me out after fifteen minutes, too.
Winona wasn’t much of a talker. But what she did say ran deep. It was up to Cassidy to figure out what Winona had meant. If she could.
I was hoping for something a little more substantial.
I’d give it time. Winona’s wisdom works in mysterious ways.
Cassidy smiled. She sent a smiley cowboy emoticon and Brandon texted back a thumbs-up.
But after Friday night and Saturday morning, she was just slightly worried about what was going on with Brandon. Maybe she didn’t want to know anything else.
Woof! Woof, woof!
Maggie? Cassidy rushed to the back door, and there she was. The brown-and-white Australian shepherd. This could very well be Maggie, escapee from Happy Hearts. She couldn’t let the dog in the shop, so she went outside to pet her while she called Daphne Taylor.
“Oh my gosh! I’m on my way!” Daphne said.
The Most Eligible Cowboy Page 16