She squirmed out of his hold and stood. “Sorry I screwed up the lemonade. I’ll go get some ice water instead.”
Heath stood, too. “I’ll come with you. Some of us need something stronger than water.”
*****
In the kitchen, Heath practically ran at her. He picked her up, spun her around, and set her on the counter. He was grinning. His lawyer was here to tell them that his chances of being acquitted were even slimmer, and he was grinning like an idiot. No—like a madman.
“What the hell! We’re not having sex. Not here, not now.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“What? I’m not even late yet. I’m not due until Sunday.”
He laughed and leaned his forehead on hers. “You’re pregnant. Let’s go home and do a test.”
A few days earlier, they’d driven to Boise—away from prying town eyes—and bought three double-test kits. One kit for every month that he’d be with her to try.
“You think I’m pregnant because I don’t like the lemons?”
“Yep. Your sense of taste is off. Sybil hated food she loved and loved food she hated. Emma, too. You’re pregnant.”
Gabe’s heart began to stutter. It had only been two weeks since they’d first tried—God, how their lives had changed in such a short time—could there be signs already if she was? “I don’t have strong feelings about lemonade either way. And saying it a hundred times isn’t going to make it true.”
“You’re pregnant. Let’s go do a test.” He set her on the floor and grabbed her hand.
“Heath!” She jerked her hand free. “Your lawyer is here. That’s more important.”
“No, it’s not. She’s full of bad news I can’t stop from happening. I’m going to prison, Gabe. Best we get right with that.” He pulled her into his arms. “You’re full of good news. You’re the only reason I give a shit about anything. Please?”
She bit down on the insides of her cheeks to shut down the threatening tears. “Okay. Let’s go.”
They left without telling anyone.
*****
Every doubt Gabe should have had two weeks ago, and all the doubts that had teemed about them since, charged into her mind at once as she sat on the closed lid of the toilet and stared at the word on the stick. Pregnant.
Heath had been right.
Pregnant.
He crouched before her, his hands over her forearms, staring at the stick with her.
“Told ya.”
She didn’t have to look up; she could hear the smile in his voice. He was happy.
“We’re crazy. This is crazy. W-what—what were we thinking?”
She was going to have to raise this baby on her own. It would never know its father except in a khaki uniform, sitting on plastic chairs in a khaki room, surrounded by men in khaki.
She didn’t even know how to be a person in this life, much less a mother.
“Heath! I can’t…”
As if it were a treasure made of spun glass, Heath lifted the plastic stick from her trembling hands and set it on the table where they kept their towels. Then he picked her hands up and pressed his lips to each palm.
“It’s gonna be okay, little one. Whatever happens.”
“It’s not a magic spell. You don’t just say the words and make them true.”
“Maybe I do. Hey, look at me.”
She lifted her eyes. God, he was happy. For the first time since that Sunday breakfast, he was happy.
“I love you. I will not leave you alone.”
“But if—”
With a sharp lift of his head, he silenced her. “My family is your family. You will be a Cahill in a few weeks. This is your home. Always and forever. You will have all the help you want. You’ll have everything you need.”
“No, I won’t. I won’t have you.”
“Yeah, you will. I don’t care what happens or where they put me, I will be with you every second of every day as long as I live.” His lips twisted wryly. “They’re not trying to put me on death row, so maybe I’ll live a long time. You might get tired of writing letters all the time with your old-lady arthritis.”
She nudged him with her knee. “Shut up. That’s not even slightly funny.”
The droll smirk left his face, and he became earnest. “Gabe, I love you. We’re living these months like they’re the start of our future, right? Maybe they are. Maybe we’ll find a way to wake up from this nightmare and have that future. Maybe this baby is the first of many.”
“Many?” She found a smile for him. “How many do you want?”
“As many as I can put in you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re young. You could go a while.”
“You’re gross.”
“Be happy with me, Gabe. Let’s plan a wedding and build a nursery and make a life. For however long we have. Please.”
None of Gabe’s fears had been assuaged, but it didn’t matter. She was pregnant with his child. She loved him, she wanted this baby, and she wanted to give him the happiness she could. So she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her as tightly as she could.
Chapter Eighteen
Gabe rode up to the stable and swung down from Phoebe’s back. The ranch was quiet at the grounds—the herds had been driven to a far point on the ranch, or something, so there were only a few workers around.
Wes, Emma, and the kids had gone into Boise to do some back-to-school shopping and just have a day off as their own little family, away from the tensions at the ranch.
Heath and his father were with Honor, at a meeting with the prosecutor. He was offering a deal, and Honor had advised that, regardless of Heath’s insistence that he would never plead guilty, they take the meeting and hear the deal.
Gabe had wanted to go, but Heath had refused to let her. He was protective with her about the specifics of the legal dealings, preferring to tell her what was going on rather than have her hear it raw herself. Personally, she was torn about what she wanted. She hated being set to the side for even a second, but she knew it helped her process everything when Heath held her and told her, when he said their incantation, It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.
It wasn’t going to be okay. A month had passed since the Fourth of July. They had only two months now before the trial, and they didn’t yet have a good strategy in place to counter the prosecution’s case.
Two months left of their life together.
She led Phoebe into the stable. Standing in the aisle between the stalls, she unfastened the split-ear bridle and pulled it free of her horse’s head. As always, Phoebe nodded her thanks and rolled her tongue out of her mouth as if she were celebrating the freedom from the weight of the bit.
Gabe hooked the bridle on her shoulder and slid a pink halter over Phoebe’s nose, then tied her lead to one of the rings that lined the posts between the stall doors.
The stable was empty; the horses were either having a day off, running in the pastures, or they were working. A few hours earlier, when the morning work of the ranch had been at full buzz, she’d stood on the road and watched Heath and his father drive away, and then she’d decided she couldn’t sit on her hands and wait, so she’d come up to the stable and just caught Phoebe before Steve had led her out to play.
Her horse had made her disappointment with that change of plans obvious. But they’d had a good ride, and Gabe had let her run until they were both sweaty. Heath was right—riding alone was an excellent way to clear one’s head.
With Phoebe tied, Gabe went and hooked the bridle at the cleaning station near the tack room, then picked up Phoebe’s carry-all off the grooming supply shelf and went back to her horse.
She had pulled the cinch loose and was preparing to heave the saddle from Phoebe’s back when Logan said, “Hey—you need help?”
“No, I got it.” She pulled the saddle and blanket off and turned to take it to its rack. Logan stood in her way, his hands out, offering to take it from her. “I got it, Loge. Thanks.”
/>
He smirked and turned out of her way. As she put the saddle away, he said, “You went out on your own?”
“Yeah, not far—just along Cedar Gulch and into the woods.”
His expression changed to something less sardonic. “You really know your way around here now.”
It was a huge ranch—thousands of acres—and she’d seen only a fraction of it. “No. But Heath’s taken me on some rides. I know some trails.”
“Turnin’ you into a real Cahill, ain’t he?” He grinned and pushed his hat back. “But I don’t know about going out on your own, Gabe. You’ve only been riding a few months, and now…” He gave her belly a significant look. “You need to be careful.”
“Don’t worry. I’m taking care of Heath’s baby.” She walked past him and picked a curry comb out of the carry-all she’d set on the floor. Phoebe liked to be curried after a ride. Gabe thought the rigid teeth of the comb must have felt good on the saddle area, like a back scratch, because Phoebe’s head always dropped, and she’d nicker happily.
Logan went to the office to do whatever he’d come into the stable to do, and Gabe focused on Phoebe. She tried to keep her phone in her pocket and not check the time or to see if she’d missed a call or a text. She didn’t need to know the time, and she would have felt a call or a text come in.
But God, she hated every second she was away from Heath, and she especially hated that he’d gone into enemy territory today. She couldn’t shake the fear that they would grab him up and send him away, that they’d somehow decide he didn’t deserve a trial and just lock him up.
She was combing Phoebe’s mane, the end of the grooming session, when Logan came back out of the office. He leaned on a post near an empty stall and watched her work.
“You’re good for my little brother. You brought him back to us. You know that, right?”
Staying focused on Phoebe’s forelock, Gabe shrugged. “He’s better for me. Maybe we just…are what we need for each other.” As she said it, she felt a weight on her chest so heavy she thought it might cave her ribs in.
“It’s gonna be okay.”
In Logan’s voice, those words were just words. Gabe shook her head. “Does nobody in this family just face facts?”
He came right up to her and stroked Phoebe’s nose. “You know who was supposed to get this girl, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Does he talk about Ruthie with you?”
Gabe nodded. Heath had told her many stories about his daughter, and he spoke often about his love of being a father and his grief since.
“I love Anya and Kendall. They are good kids. But Ruthie—I don’t know. Maybe because she was the first, you know? She made me an uncle. And she was so happy and funny. Damn, I loved that little imp. And Heath—darlin’, you got yourself a good daddy for that baby in your belly.”
Gabe caught a sob before it could be a crying jag, and Logan smoothed a comforting hand over her back. The kind gesture only made tears threaten more, but Gabe didn’t shrug him off.
“When he lost Ruthie…That night was a horror. I was there with him, and sometimes I still dream about it. I kept him from jumping into that ravine. He’d’ve gone headlong into that fireball, even though there was nothing he could do. At the funeral, he beat the shit out of me for that.”
Surprised, Gabe looked up at him. “What?”
“Yeah. He blamed me, too, for a long time. Not near so much as he blamed himself, though. Only one person he’s ever blamed more than himself.”
“Brandon Black.”
Logan nodded. “After, he was just…well, he was a shell. It was a year before he’d even hold a fuckin’ conversation. And it was four years before there was any part of him that wanted to be here. You brought him that.”
He smiled and stroked her cheek, catching the tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye. Then he turned back to the horse. “But through all that, this little girl was here. Heath raised her, worked her, trained her to the saddle. Her rider was dead, and he shut Emma down any time she suggested one of her kids take her, but he wouldn’t sell her. Dad and I would talk about it sometimes, wonder if it was healthy. But seeing you riding her, taking care of her, seeing that she’s yours, it’s easy to see that Heath wasn’t keeping Phoebe for a ghost. He was keeping her because somewhere, deep down inside him, he knew everything was gonna be okay. He knew he’d wake up again and have a life he wanted. He knew this girl would have a rider.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a horse cookie. Phoebe, who’d already had about five of them from Gabe, chuffed happily at the opportunity of a fresh pocket. Logan palmed it and offered it to her. “‘Face facts’ is just another way to say give up. Cahills don’t give up, darlin’. Not even when they want to. There’s always somewhere for hope inside us.”
That was it; she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. Phoebe gave her a concerned nudge, and Logan drew her into his arms.
For a minute, he let her cry into his shirt. Then he kissed the top of her head and set her back. He smiled warmly down at her. “You’re a Cahill now, Gabe. You don’t give up. It’s gonna be okay.”
*****
Gabe sat on the empty worktable and watched Heath hand Bill, his apprentice, a manila envelope. Bill faltered, looking awkward, and then he stepped in for a hug. Clearly surprised, Heath stood like a board for a second, then hugged Bill back.
Feeling sad and sentimental, Gabe put her feet on the table and hugged her legs.
When the men stepped back, Heath led Bill out of the shop. He stood in the wide doorway for a long time, then flipped the switch and let the overhead door roll down.
Hephaestus Farrier & Smithy had just closed its doors, maybe for the last time.
In the six weeks since his arrest, business had trickled to nothing. Some of it was due to the feud with Catherine—the Moondancer had been a big part of his farriering work, and those loyal to her had pulled their business in support—but Heath had already taken and absorbed those hits before the Fourth. Since then, he’d lost more business from people sure of his guilt, and he’d lost the rest because people didn’t know if he’d be around to finish the work—and he’d turned down the few new queries for the very same reason.
He walked back across the shop to her and pulled her legs down and around his hips. She hooked her arms over his shoulders.
With a sad smile, he said, “Well, that’s that, then.”
He laid his head on her shoulder, and they simply rested there in his silent shop. As their last work together, he and Bill had cleaned everything. During operation, the shop was always tidy but generally grimy. There had been a kind of soot in every crack and seam. Now, the place nearly gleamed. It felt wrong to Gabe. Even the smell was wrong.
Finally, he took a deep breath and stood straight. “Okay. We should get going.”
He picked up his hat from the table and gave it a look of pinched dissatisfaction. The new hat looked a lot like his old one—the same shape, at least—but it was black and had a narrow band trimmed with small silver discs. Wes and Emma had brought it back from Boise for him. He thought it too flashy, and he hated the idea of a black hat and its metaphor, but his sister had given it to him, so he wore it.
Gabe thought he looked gorgeous in it, but she’d preferred the well-worn and well-loved hat he’d lost forever. That had been more Heath.
“We don’t have to go. Let’s just go home.”
She hopped down from the table and took his hand. Things in town were always strange now. People didn’t even pretend not to be talking about them anymore. The story was too juicy, too current, too ripe for possible developments for people to control themselves. Every time they went into town, everybody watched like they were at a show, waiting to see if something new would happen. People literally just stopped and stared.
But he shook his head. “It’s Reese’s birthday. Don’t know how many more chances I’ll have to be with my friends, and I’m not going to miss a b
irthday.”
“Everybody in town’s going to be watching to see if you get drunk and do something crazy.”
“I won’t get drunk.”
She conveyed her skepticism with a look. He’d been a heavy drinker as long as she’d known him, but the over past six weeks, he’d gotten to the point that he could only sleep with about half a bottle of bourbon in him. Except for trouble managing his temper, he rarely acted drunk in any case, but they hadn’t gone out for a night at the Jack since his arrest. He’d seen his friends at the ranch, or at their homes—and even at that, only a few times.
Gabe was a little nervous about him getting drunk around all the prying town eyes.
“I won’t. I need to take care of you and the seedling. Come on, little one. Let’s walk over there.”
They went to the side door, and he ushered her through, then pulled the master switch and turned out all the lights. He went still, his hand yet on the switch, and stared into the dark.
She rubbed his back with a light caress, then leaned on him and kissed his arm. “Say the magic words?”
With a little shake, he roused and closed the door. He locked it, then put his keys away and squared his new hat on his head. Putting his strong arm around her shoulders, he squeezed her close.
“It’s gonna be okay.”
*****
Gabe thought that if she owned a bar or a restaurant, it would be the last place in the world she’d want to spend her free time, but that wasn’t true for a lot of people. Her grandparents had held all the family parties at the cantina. All her birthdays, including her quinceañera, had been at the same place she’d worked. She’d generally thought that had sucked.
This year, her birthday, at the end of July, had been nothing but a quiet night at the ranch. She and Heath had taken a ride into the woods; then they’d had a family dinner at Emma and Wes’s, with cake and presents, and they’d all sat around the table and made wedding plans.
Somewhere (Sawtooth Mountains Stories Book 1) Page 24