by Jillian Neal
After she locked up the library at closing time, she followed her husband into the sheriff’s office. Their hands were laced together, which was all that was keeping hers from shaking. Nervous tension twisted up her spine. After all of her lessons, she was getting pretty good, no longer tensing frantically when the truck encountered ice.
They were greeted by a grunt of disdain from Clarke as he whisked by, purposefully bumping into Brock as he made his escape.
A smirk spread across Sherriff Wilheim’s face. “Sorry, about that. He’s still ticked about me dropping the tickets. This must be Hope. Nice to finally meet you. Gotta tell ya, darlin’, the whole damn Camden family put up one hell of a fight on your behalf.” He shook Brock’s hand as they shared a laugh. “Apparently your husband didn’t inform his family that I’d already dropped the charges that day he came in here and chewed my ass about it. Thought Natalie was gonna put Clarke in a headlock when she stomped in here and demanded that we tear up the tickets.”
“Natalie came by?” Hope was astonished.
Brock offered her a wink. “Nat’s a hard ass. Her mouth gets her into trouble, but she doesn’t like anyone messing with her family.”
“Hell yeah, she came by just before Ev and Jessie got here. I’m telling you, he’ll probably never pull you over again. Holly came in and lectured us on the outdated psychology of traffic tickets, and something she called merit-based reward systems instead of punitive punishments, or something like that. I don’t know what all she said, but she went on forever.”
“I figured I’d let Clarke get what was coming to him,” Brock huffed.
“Now, don’t be too hard on Clarke. In his own weird way, he looks up to you. He always has.”
“Well, I’m happy to be friendly with him, but he needs to leave my wife the hell alone.”
“Understand that.” The Sheriff turned to Hope. “We don’t have all of the fancy DMV stuff like they do in the big cities. Just fill out this paperwork, and we’ll get your new license made.” He handed her a clipboard.
“Sure, no problem, and thank you for understanding about the tickets. I guess I was in a hurry trying to find the doctor that day.”
Sheriff Wilheim held up both of his hands. “Have an ex-wife, have 2 daughters, and now have a girlfriend, I’ll be the first one to vow that Clarke should have left you be as soon as you said you were sick. You promise not to turn around in the middle of the road anymore, to obey the speed limit in town, always carry insurance on you, and we’ll forget any of it ever happened.”
“Thank you, sir. I promise.”
A half hour later, Brock and Hope waved to the Sheriff as they headed out into the bright sunny day. “The sun’s out.” Hope felt ecstatic. She didn’t even care that Sheriff Wilheim had snapped her new license photo while she was licking her front teeth, as odd as it looked. She’d even added ten pounds to her weight when she’d filled out the paperwork. No woman told the truth about that, and eventually their baby wouldn’t live inside her stomach, so she reasoned that deducting the other fifteen she’d put on was allowable.
Brock grabbed her hand, turned it over, and dropped his keys into her palm. “You’re legal now, so you can be my escort.” He cringed as soon as the words left his tongue. “God, that sounded bad.” He shook his head while she laughed hysterically. “You drive, darlin. We’re heading to the stables.”
“Why are we going to the stables?”
“We have something we need to take care of.”
Forty-five minutes later, Hope was rather proud of herself for expertly parking the truck near the horse stables, constructed out of old train cars that Brock’s great-grandfather had purchased off the railroad and turned into housing for the ranch horses. According to Brock, most every ranch in the area used train cars to construct their barns, as well.
They hopped out of the truck and Holly appeared, guiding a beautiful, creamy white horse out of the barn. She was followed by all of her brothers and her sister, along with Uncle Ev and Aunt Jessie. They were all grinning at Hope.
All of the other ranch horses were darkly colored in shades varying from chestnut brown to black. Hope’s brow furrowed. “Who’s this?” Still a little bit afraid, she forced herself to gently pat the horse’s long graceful neck.
“This is Gracie. When I was a little girl, I learned to ride on Gracie’s mama, Ashe. She was the sweetest, gentlest horse around, but Gracie might be even better. Brock and I went to see Ashe and Gracie yesterday. We gave Ashe to the Wilcrofts for their little girl when I left for college, but we definitely think Gracie is perfect for you, Hope,” Holly explained.
“You got me my own horse?” Shocked and a little concerned, Hope stared into Gracie’s kind black eyes. Not certain exactly how to care for her own horse, she offered Gracie a timid grin.
“I thought Gracie could help me teach you all about the ranch, darlin’. She’s as sweet as they come. Completely bomb-proof, but if you’re worried about the baby, you don’t have to ride her yet. I wanted to go ahead and get her for you. Holly gets all the credit for finding her, though. I couldn’t have found you a better horse. I’ll teach you to take care of her.” Brock placed a few sugar cubes he’d gotten in Hope’s hand and guided her hand to Gracie’s mouth. Even the way she ate the sugar cubes was slow and graceful. Hope appreciated her tender care.
“I rode with all of mine until I was too big to mount them.” Jessie patted Gracie’s side. “You’ll be all right, just take it easy.”
“Come on. I’ll teach you to saddle her.” Brock took Gracie’s reins, and Hope followed his instructions, trying to memorize the steps. She blanketed her new horse, then went through the process of saddling.
“I’m gonna need you to go over all of that again with me several times,” she admitted.
Laughing, Brock brushed a kiss on her forehead. “As many times as you need. You know that.”
“You’re sure it’s safe?”
“We’re gonna ride right beside you. Slow and easy. We’re not gonna gallop off into the sunset, but if you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to.”
Refusing to give into the fear, and trying to remember everything Brock taught her about riding Izzy back in North Carolina, Hope threw her right leg over Gracie and seated herself in the saddle. When Brock climbed on Cinder, and Holly saddled Grant’s horse, Aspen, they set off. Hope tried to communicate telepathically with Gracie to explain that she’d only done this a few times, and she was pregnant, and to please take it easy. Miraculously, Gracie seemed to understand. She cantered slow and steady, and Hope relaxed and enjoyed the ride.
Delighted, Brock watched his beautiful wife bond with her new horse. Her beaming grin made his entire year. He slowed Cinder to a trot when Uncle Ev’s horse, Busco, thundered up beside him.
“Looks like your coincidental cowgirl there is finally settling in.” Ev gestured his head to Hope and Gracie, who appeared to be having a conversation as they eased further into the pasture. Brock wondered what they were discussing. There wasn’t an animal alive that had better conversation skills than a horse, in his opinion.
“Nothing coincidental about my cowgirl.” Brock shook his head. “Whole lot of Gypsies got together and somehow God agreed to give her to me. Never know how I got so lucky.”
Ev chuckled. “You know, I never put too much stock in that Gypsy heritage of your mama’s, but if that’s the truth, you tell God and all them Gypsies they did good work. She looks right at home. You tell them we’ll take good care of her.”
“I will.” Brock hastened Cinder to catch up to his wife.
Chapter Nineteen
“Look there, darlin’.” Brock grinned as he pointed to the pink blooms on the redbud trees near their home. He was thrilled to see spring was making a hesitant appearance. They hadn’t gotten any snow in three weeks, and the ranch was finally showing signs of drying out.
She beamed at him. “You know, back in January I was afraid I’d never see Spring again.”
&
nbsp; Brock wrapped her up in his arms on their porch. He cradled her rounded midsection in his arms and a broad grin spread across his face. “Well, the redbuds mean Spring has officially arrived. Go put on a bikini for me.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head.
“I think I’ll wait until our little boy is no longer living inside of me before I put on a bikini.”
“I guess I’ll allow that.” He feigned disappointment, making her laugh. “Have we settled on a name for our little guy or are we still debating?”
“I keep telling you I want to name him Brock Nathaniel after you, but call him Nathan.”
“Maybe,” Brock allowed.
Hope took another sweeping glance of the green fields surrounding their home as the sun set on the horizon. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.
“I love it here so much. I love our life here.”
Brock hugged her tighter. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I have a great job. People no longer look at me like I arrived on an alien spaceship, nor do they discuss my lingerie purchases.”
“Uh, no one’s even thought about your lingerie since Nora Epperstein told the whole town that Mrs. Bellamy was moonlighting as a sex phone operator.” Brock shook his head.
Hope giggled, but then continued, “I have friends. I have a beautiful house that’s warm and perfect. I know how to get everywhere, and Gracie and I totally beat you and Natalie to the pond yesterday.”
“I was not aware we were racing, sweetness.”
“We were in my mind.”
“I see.” He patted her backside, caught up in a pair of maternity jeans she’d gotten the last time they went to Lincoln as he chuckled.
“I don’t think I’m going to be riding her much more until our little guy gets here.”
“We’ll ride her for you. I’m pretty sure she’ll understand.”
“You know what else I have?”
“What’s that, darlin’?”
“I also have a wonderful husband that loves me and always takes care of me.”
“You definitely have that, and you always will.”
Hope gasped and rubbed her hand over her midsection. “Did you feel that?” She was ecstatic. Every time their little boy made himself known, Brock’s entire world settled.
“I think so. I can’t quite feel him like you do yet.”
“I can’t wait for you to be able to feel him. Right now it feels kind of like butterflies in my belly.”
Grinning, Brock spun her and leaned his mouth down near her growing bump. “Hey little man. We love you.”
Brock stood, and he and Hope turned when Austin’s truck rumbled down the muddy path near their home. They waved as he headed out.
“You think he’ll be okay? He’s been in a bad mood lately,” Hope’s concern pricked at Brock’s heart.
“I don’t really think he wants to try for another title. I think he’s sick of it all. I think he’d like to give up the rodeo circuit altogether, but he’s too damn stubborn to admit that to himself.”
“Even all the girls that hang out around him because of it?”
“Yeah, even the bunnies seem to be getting to him. He needs to find the one woman that makes him want to settle down, but Lord help her, because he ain’t gonna go down without a fight.”
Before she could respond, Holly and Grant whisked up their front porch steps, arguing.
“Damn, Hol, I just asked how she was, not for you to pick out a ring for her. I’m sorry I said anything,” Grant bellowed angrily.
“So, you just up and asked me how Cheyenne is doing but don’t really care?” Holly retorted with a gotcha grin.
“Exactly.” Grant was lying, and they all knew it. Brock ran his right hand over his mouth to hide his chuckle when his wife and Holly shared a conspiratorial smirk. Grant was in for it. He just wasn’t aware of that yet.
“What about you? Who was the dude you were hanging all over at Lazlo’s last time I was in Lincoln? He was twice your age.” Grant reverted back to his ten-year-old self before Brock’s very eyes.
“He was not. Shut up!” And Holly appeared to make the same time-travelling trip.
Shaking his head, Brock guided Hope back inside their cozy home. He closed the door on his cousins. They could go on arguing for all he cared. Some things never changed. Besides, he and his wife had some celebrating to do. He’d managed to figure out the first eight-months of marriage. He had a healthy baby boy on the way. He wasn’t a total screw up, and he’d keep right on learning to be the best husband he could possibly be. As long as she was in his arms, that was all that mattered.
From the Author
Want even more Brock and Hope? You can download a deleted scene from Jillian’s website.
http://jillianneal.com/content/bonus-chapters
If you would like to read the beginning of Brock and Hope’s story, check out Gypsy Hope, book four of the Gypsy Beach series.
Coming April, 2016 – Austin Camden’s story. Sign up for the mailing list to keep up with all the latest news on Camden Ranch.
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About Jillian
Bestselling author, Jillian Neal, was not only born 30 but also came accessorized with loads of books and adorable handbags in which to carry them, at least that’s what she tells people. After earning a degree in education, she discovered that her passion could never be housed inside a classroom. A vehement lover of love and having maintained a lifelong affair with the awe-inspiring power of words, she set to turn the romance industry on its head. Her overly-caffeinated, troupe-spinning muse is never happy with the standard formula story. She believes every book should be brimming with passion, loaded with hot sexy scenes, packed with a gut-punch of emotion, and have characters that leap off the page and right into your heart.
Her first series, The Gifted Realm, defines contemporary romance with a fantasy twist. Her Gypsy Beach series will leave you longing to visit the sultry shores of the tiny bohemian beach town, and her erotic romance series, Camden Ranch, will make you certain there is nothing better than a cowboy with some chaps and a plan. The sheer amount of coffee required to keep all of those characters dancing in her head would border on lethal, so she unleashes their engaging stories on page after page of spellbinding reads.
Jillian lives outside of Atlanta with her own sexy sweetheart, their teenage sons, and enough stiletto heels, cowgirl boots, and flip-flops to exist in any of the fictional worlds she brings to life.
For more information on the author and her stories, check out her website, at http://jillianneal.com