He passed the corrals and rode into the open land, his chest less tight, his head clearing the farther he went. The sun was setting, and the glare made it hard to see, but he was pretty sure a man who looked a lot like his brother Jordan was standing in front of a big, weirdly shaped rock by the creek. He rode over and, the closer he got, he was shocked to see it was Jordan, a mare grazing nearby. What the hell was he doing all the way out here?
Jordan turned at the approach, his gold wedding band glinting in the setting sun. Jordan and Camilla had recently returned from their honeymoon, both tanned and looking very happy whenever Brandon ran into them. His brother held a chamois cloth in one hand and a plastic container of something in the other. “Got in a fight with Dad?”
Brandon gave a bitter chuckle. “You know it.” He peered closer at the big rock that Jordan had been facing. Wait a minute. He hopped off Starlight and moved closer to the rock. It was a heart. What? The rock, made from granite, was around two feet in circumference. It had to have been huge before someone had gone at it with a circular saw. “What’s this?”
“Just something I’ve been doing when I get into it with Dad,” Jordan said, rubbing it down with the cloth. “When Camilla and I were...trying to make it work, we came riding out here once, and we had a moment right at this spot, sitting on this rock, that turned my head around. So I wanted to immortalize it for Camilla. It’s finished and I’ll show it to her this weekend. I was just giving it a final polish.”
“Damn. That’s romantic.”
“And practical,” Jordan said. “Every time I ride out here and see my heart, I know where my priorities are.”
Man, had Jordan changed. But Brandon was too caught up in the word priorities to focus on his brother. Brandon’s priority was the baby. He had to remember that. His relationship with Cassidy was up there, yes. But a relationship that would enable him to be a good father. Not a bitter angry one arguing about who disappointed whom.
Except you want that relationship to include sex. That’s the opposite of platonic.
He sighed inwardly. He was a spoiled rich guy who wanted it both ways. And Cassidy wasn’t about to give in to that. That was another reason he admired her so much.
But that didn’t change how he felt.
“This party on Saturday...” Brandon said. “It’s where I was going to announce that I’m about to become a father. Cassidy Ware is pregnant. I’ll be a dad next spring.”
Jordan’s mouth dropped open. “Holy hell, Brandon. Congratulations.” He pulled Brandon into a bear hug.
“Things are a little...rough right now.”
“Ah,” Jordan said, “in that case, find or make your own priority rock, whatever that may be. It’ll help.”
Brandon stared at the rock. His mind was going in so many directions, he wasn’t really homing in on what his brother was saying. “I need to keep riding.”
Jordan nodded. “That helps, too.”
Yeah, it always did. Except this time, Brandon would have to ride for hours and he wasn’t sure he’d ever find his answers.
Chapter Fifteen
Cassidy spent the rest of the week baking, working at Java and Juice, reading the book on motherhood she’d bought and keeping to herself. She’d avoided the sweet little book—wisdom and quotes for the new mother—that Brandon had bought her. It reminded her too much of how thoughtful he could be. He’d texted on Tuesday night that he was sorry how they’d left things and that he needed to take some time to think, to let things settle.
Fine with her. And not. Things had been so up and down with Brandon after such a whirlwind of heaven that she couldn’t have taken any more of it. She needed to know where they stood so that she could know what her future was: with Brandon at her side or as a single mother with joint custody.
Now, on Friday morning, a new text came from him.
My dad’s been avoiding me, easier than it sounds given we live in the same house. I’ll be going to the party to confront him—privately. I’d like you to be there so that we can announce our news to the rest of the family together.
How warm and fuzzy, she thought, shaking her head. What a lovely invitation. She felt so much more comfortable. Not!
This is a family matter and I’m not family. We also need to talk and I don’t intend to do that in earshot of your father ever again.
His response was quick.
Touché. But please. It’s important to me that you’re there.
She almost typed back a why, because she honestly had no idea. But she couldn’t do this right now, couldn’t handle texting back and forth when everything they had to talk about was so important. Fridays were always super busy at Java and Juice. There was already a line of customers and she was also expecting to hear from the loan officer at the bank. Focus on where you are, she told herself. Not your up-and-down romance. Were they even a couple anymore? They were something—the baby on the way ensured that.
I’ll be there. I’ll drive myself so I can easily escape, if need be.
Touché, again, he texted back.
She’d made what seemed like a thousand complicated coffee drinks and plated pastry after pastry, ringing up snack and lunch orders when her phone pinged again.
This time it wasn’t Brandon. She didn’t recognize the cell phone number, but she did recognize the words.
You’ll be glad you did it.
Oh, Winona, she thought, her heart all over the place. Whatever it is I’m gonna do, I sure hope so.
* * *
Because the family room at the Taylor Ranch was so huge, Brandon hadn’t gotten near enough to his dad to demand an apology Cornelius would likely not give. As he’d told Cassidy yesterday via text, he’d do that privately. Jordan and Camilla were by the bar, Dirk and Dustin were chatting with all three of their uncles, and Cornelius and Jessica were deep in conversation. His father was throwing up his hands a lot. The two might be talking about the fact that Daphne was due to arrive any moment—or about the big blowup with Brandon and Cassidy, what Cornelius had said to her. That was, if his father even talked to Jessica about down-and-dirty stuff. Who knew what their relationship was really like. Maybe it was all superficial.
Jessica was much younger than Cornelius, but she truly seemed to like him. She was affectionate in a way that seemed natural and not forced. Brandon thought back to catching the couple dancing to a Blake Shelton tune. There was real romance in that dance; Brandon had seen it with his own eyes.
Part of him wanted to talk to his father about that, how Cornelius had found this third chance at love with Jessica when his first two marriages had collapsed. Heck, maybe he’d talk to Jessica about it. Even though they lived in the same house, albeit huge, they didn’t see much of each other. Brandon should work on that. Spend more time with Jessica, especially now that she was going to be a grandmother to his child. He wondered if Jessica would open up about her marriage—not the details, but enough for Brandon to get a real sense about the depth of his stepmother’s feelings for his blustery father—and his for her.
His father wasn’t one to talk about marriage except to wave his hands around dramatically. Cornelius didn’t talk much about Dirk and Dustin’s mother, and he rarely talked about his first wife, Jordan, Brandon and Daphne’s mother.
Speak of the devil. Daphne and Evan walked into the family room. He only thought of Daphne and devil in the same sentence because she’d gotten his head so turned around when he’d stopped by Happy Hearts to invite her to this party. Fighting against love. Please. He hadn’t let himself get there in the first place. He didn’t love. He cared. There was a difference.
He watched his father eye Daphne, the man’s gaze moving to Evan. Cornelius whispered something to his wife then crossed the room to talk to his brothers. Brandon picked up his glass of wine and took a good long sip, then went to greet his sister.
He shook hands with Evan
and hugged Daphne. “Party’s a real blast,” Brandon said. “I should tell you, Dad and I are on the outs, so I don’t know how festive this evening will be.”
Daphne nodded. “Well, festive and Dad aren’t really a thing, so it’s business as usual.”
As she and her fiancé crossed the room to the bar, Brandon’s gaze was drawn to the open French doors and the beautiful woman who had just walked in.
Oh, Cassidy. Her blond hair was loose past her shoulders. She wore a floral black dress that swished around her knees and black cowboy boots. He’d missed her so much.
He walked over to her and wanted to envelop her in a hug, but her expression kept him from touching her. She was wary. With every reason.
“Ah! Everyone’s here!” bellowed Cornelius Taylor’s voice. “I’ll make this short and sweet. Thanks to Brandon, Taylor Beef has scored rodeo champion Geoff Burris to star in the ad campaign, a particular boon ahead of the rodeo in November. Eat that, Abernathy Meats!”
Brandon’s uncles clapped and laughed uproariously.
His father held up his glass of champagne. “To Brandon. To Taylor Beef! To Geoff Burris!”
Everyone turned toward Brandon and held up their glass then drank. Brandon downed his. Cassidy was sipping ginger ale.
Cornelius cleared his throat. “I’d also like to say that I’m glad Daphne is here with her fiancé, Evan Cruise. I may not always show it the best way, but you are family, Daphne. Sell that ridiculous Hoofy Hearts, have a steak, and you’ll be welcomed back to the family with open arms.” He raised his glass again, his eyes on his daughter.
If looks could maim, Cornelius Taylor would be flat on his back.
Daphne glared at him. “I will not drink to that. But I will toast to my brother’s success in landing Geoff Burris. That’s a major feat. Despite my leanings, I’m very much invested in the success of my siblings. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Evan and I are out of here.”
Cornelius scowled. Jessica had an Oh dear expression.
Jordan and Camilla were shaking their heads.
Dirk and Dustin were on their phones, probably also making plans to get away.
Cassidy was sort of nodding, as though this was expected. As if everything she’d been through with Cornelius made perfect sense.
“Now you listen to me, Cornelius Taylor,” Cassidy suddenly said. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at her. “If you think I’m going to raise my child, your ‘grandheir’ as you refer to him or her, in this kind of intolerance for family, you have another think coming. I may not have money. I may not have people. But I have my values. Family should be everything. You have no idea how lucky you are, Mr. Taylor.” With that, she turned and walked out.
The room erupted in claps and wolf whistles. Brandon heard his brother Dirk say to Dustin, “Wait, Cassidy is pregnant?”
Cornelius stood glowering, his arms across his chest. Jessica stared at her husband, her Oh dear expression morphed into something a little more hardcore. Maybe she’d try to talk some sense into her husband.
“Woman after my own heart,” Camilla Sanchez Taylor whispered to Brandon. “I had a moment just like that with my father-in-law before Jordan and I got married. Not sure it got through. But it felt good. You tell Cassidy she’s one hundred percent right.”
Brandon squeezed Camilla’s hand and took off through the French doors, hoping to catch Cassidy before she drove off.
He did. She stood with her hands at her sides then paced, as if trying to calm down before getting in her car.
“Cassidy,” he called.
“Guess I’ll never be invited back,” she said, throwing up her hands. “Not that I want to be. But these are my baby’s relatives. Your father is my baby’s grandpa. I can’t avoid that the way your father avoids your sister. Family is everything.”
“I know,” he said. “And I’m sorry you were put in that position. But I’m glad you spoke your mind. Camilla did that, too, before she married Jordan. She said to tell you you’re a hundred percent right.”
She stared at him. Hard. Studying him. She looked so beautiful in the moonlight, so equally strong and vulnerable, that he just wanted to gather her to him and hold her—and not let her go.
“Well, here’s what I want to know, Brandon. Are you one hundred percent in? None of this ‘one foot in, one foot out’ bull. Are we together?”
He looked at the stars for a moment then back at Cassidy. “I...” He tried to find the words to explain how much she meant to him, but that the brick wall around his heart was impenetrable. He’d been through too much, seen too much. He wanted her in his life, but on his terms. And he wasn’t even sure what those terms were.
“I love you, Brandon Taylor. Deeply. Can you say the same?”
Love. That word almost made him physically ill.
He could barely look at her. He tried to force himself, but he couldn’t. Don’t love me, he wanted to say. I don’t know how to love back. Even Winona said so, and she knows what she’s talking about.
“If we can have that platonic marriage, we can have it all,” he said, knowing he sounded insane. “A united team for our child. Parents who care about each other, in the same house, with a shared goal of raising their kid together, putting the child first. Neither of us will miss anything. I know it’s not exactly what you want, Cassidy, but it’s a compromise, isn’t it? Marriage is about a lasting partnership, making a relationship work. We can do that.”
“You really don’t see it, do you?” she asked.
“See what?” He didn’t want to know, though.
“How like your father you really are. You believe in everything he said to me in your office the other day, Brandon. That one day we won’t be speaking to each other. That you’ll probably have to pay me off to keep your child. You actually believe that. It informs everything you do and controls you. It’s why you can’t love.”
Red-hot anger swirled in his gut, but it was tamped by what felt like cold dirt being kicked up inside him. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He couldn’t.
“Goodbye, Brandon,” Cassidy said, sounding so sad, but so firm. “We’ll work out a schedule for the baby. We’ll keep things friendly for his or her sake. But goodbye.” With that, she ran to her car.
No. No, no, no. “Cassidy,” he called, but he couldn’t even hear himself. His voice was clogged with emotion.
He heard her car start, saw the lights come on.
She drove off, fast, leaving him standing there feeling like absolute hell.
* * *
The cramping started the next morning, when Cassidy should have been getting out of bed for an early morning of baking. But the pains low in her belly were too intense. She turned onto her other side.
Oh God. What was this? She was barely a month along. She’d conceived the first week of September and now it was the last week. These couldn’t be contractions.
A cold rush of fear gripped her. Please, please, please, let everything be okay. Please.
She grabbed her phone and called Brandon. Brandon—whom she’d said goodbye to last night.
“Cassidy?”
“My belly,” she managed to blurt out between breaths. “It hurts so bad, Brandon.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said, the desperation in his voice matching her own. “You stay on the phone with me.” She could hear him moving, a door shutting, another door shutting, his truck starting. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in five minutes. Should I call an ambulance?”
Breathe, breathe, breathe, she told herself. “I don’t think so. I just need to get to the hospital.”
“I’m getting closer and closer,” he said every minute as he drove, till he reached her apartment. “I’m here. I’m coming up. Can you unlock the front door for me?”
“I’ll try,” she said, getting out bed, doubled over, one hand on
her belly as she staggered to the intercom to buzz him in and then unlocked the door. She turned and dropped onto the overstuffed chair that had been her mother’s favorite.
The pains were getting worse.
“I’m coming up the stairs now,” he said and then burst into her apartment, putting his phone in his pocket.
She could see the worry and fear on his face. But she could only focus on the pain and trying to breathe through it.
Please let my baby be okay, she prayed with all her might.
* * *
Panicked, Brandon got Cassidy downstairs and to Bronco Valley Hospital as fast as he could without driving recklessly. When she was wheeled down the hall and out of sight, his heart split in two, half going with her.
He paced the waiting room, texting Daphne what was going on. Within fifteen minutes, his entire family was there, including his father and Jessica. He told the group what he knew, which was absolutely nothing. A nurse had told him the doctor would be out to talk to him when he finished his full examination of the patient.
Brandon paced some more then dropped into a chair, his forearms resting on his knees, his head down.
“Money poisoned my two marriages,” Cornelius whispered when he sat beside Brandon. Or whispered as much as Cornelius Taylor’s naturally booming voice could whisper. “I don’t know a soul who’d turn down half a million dollars to make it on her own merit. That’s a woman you should marry, Brandon. And not because it would make good business sense, though it does, but because that woman is one in a million.”
Brandon looked at his dad, the clog in his chest clearing somewhat. He hadn’t realized how much the strife with his father had bothered him until his father just undid it.
“Jessica made me go to a couples workshop not too long ago, and I learned about projection,” Cornelius added. “I realized on the way over that I was doing just that to you and Cassidy. Projecting. Just because my first two marriages didn’t work out doesn’t mean yours won’t.”
The Most Eligible Cowboy Page 18