But the twinkle in the blonde’s eyes said she and Josh’s twin were doing everything they could to make that happen. And, yes, Deanna had to tamp down the spurt of envy, at how freaking adorable the newly married couple was, their happiness whenever they were together spilling all over the place like glitter.
Not that she wasn’t grateful for the outpouring of affection—and gifts, oh, my, goodness, the gifts, including a bassinet to tuck right beside her bed—this little group was showering her with today, Annie from the diner and Billie and Josh’s two sisters-in-law. Or soon to be, in the case of Zach’s fiancée, Mallory. But honestly, she didn’t even know Val except for that one conversation in the diner. And Mallory not at all. Still, being made to feel like she was actually one of them, even if only for this little while, warmed Deanna’s heart. So the green-eyed monster could go screw itself.
As could the unexpected heartache from missing her mother far more than she thought she would. After all, she’d had thirteen years to reconcile herself to the fact that Mom wouldn’t be around for any of those milestones a girl expects to share with her mother, and she’d managed just fine up till now. More or less. But something about opening presents for what would have been Katherine Blake’s first grandbaby was doing a real number on Deanna’s head. That her father wouldn’t see little Katie, either...
Hell. It was a wonder she wasn’t blubbering into a wad of pink tissue paper by now.
Sitting beside her, Billie squeezed Deanna’s wrist, as if knowing what she was thinking. Deanna clutched the tiny pajamas to her chest, her breath hitching when it hit her that in a few weeks the tiny person inside her would be wearing the pajamas.
Her eyes burning, she smiled for Annie. “This is so stinkin’ cute—thanks so much.”
The menfolk—yes, this was a forward-thinking bunch—were scattered throughout the house, refilling munchie trays and tending to assorted small children, keeping the mayhem in reasonable check. Except for Josh, who’d had to go into Albuquerque for reasons he hadn’t made entirely clear, either because baby showers really weren’t his thing, or he was simply trying to avoid her. Considering how little they’d seen each other in the past couple of days, she was going with Option 2. However, Deanna was just as glad none of the men were present when she opened Mallory’s gift—a top-of-the-line breast pump.
“That’s the brand I used when I had Landon and had to express between takes when I was on the set,” the former actress said, pushing her wheelchair a little closer. “Works like a charm. Although...” She chuckled. “Do you even plan on breast-feeding?”
“Yes, absolutely.” At least, she figured she’d give it a shot. Deanna opened up the box and lifted out the gadget, trying to imagine fitting the contraption on her boob—
“What’s that?”
At the sound of Austin’s reedy little voice, Deanna hurriedly stuffed the pump back in the box. “It’s, um...” She smiled for the kid, who was wearing an expression so much like his daddy’s her heart knocked against her ribs. “A horn.”
Val belted out a laugh, only to cover her mouth, muttering, “Good save,” from behind her hand.
Big green eyes met hers. “C’n I try it?”
“No, sweetie, sorry...it’s for the baby.”
Oblivious to the laughter floating around him, the little boy came closer, frowning, to inspect the box. Which thank God did not have a picture of how to use the thing. Over the crackling fire in the stone hearth, she heard Josh’s truck pull up out front. Great. Just in time to witness her contributing to his four-year-old’s delinquency. “What’s she gonna do with it? If she’s gonna be too little to play with toys when she’s born—?”
“Can’t wait to hear you answer that one,” came a very familiar voice from the entryway. Deanna jerked and twisted around, releasing a little gasp when she saw a grinning Emily, decked out in gray cashmere and designer jeans.
“Ohmigosh—Em!” Bags and tissue flying everywhere, Deanna shoved herself to her feet to meet her cousin halfway, throwing her arms around her. “How did you...? I don’t understand—”
“This guy,” Em said, nodding back toward Josh, standing a few feet off with his hands in his pockets and mischief in his eyes, clearly pleased with himself.
And instantly turning Deanna into the most confused pregnant woman on the face of the planet.
* * *
“You’re staying for Thanksgiving, right?”
Reclining on the guest room’s four-poster bed with Smoky snuggled up beside her, Emily laughed and bit off the end of another cream-cheese-stuffed jalapeño pepper.
“I’d love to, but I can’t,” she said, pulling a face as she plucked a blob of the gooey mixture from the front of her satin pajamas. “Command appearance, Mom and Dad and me with Michael’s parents. I tried to get out of it, but Michael nearly had a fit. As it was I was lucky to snag a flight back on Wednesday...hey. You okay?”
“Just uncomfortable,” Deanna said, shifting in the nearby overstuffed armchair. “The baby’s already engaged.”
“What?”
Deanna laughed. “As in, ready to launch. It’s a good thing. And I still can’t believe you’re here,” she said, and her cousin smiled, then bumped noses with the cat, who’d decided to see if whatever the human was eating was worth begging for.
They’d talked virtually nonstop since the shower ended hours before, mostly while Em helped Deanna unpack half of Deanna’s clothes. Because when an airline allows you two free bags, Emily had said, chuckling, you take advantage of that. Which apparently meant also bringing a few things for after the baby came, although Deanna seriously doubted she’d fit into her fave pair of skinny jeans right off the bat. But she’d been beyond touched by her cousin’s thoughtfulness...even as she still hadn’t wrapped her head around Josh’s getting her here. Even paying for her plane ticket—although according to Em, Deanna wasn’t supposed to know that—since getting one this close to Thanksgiving, and on such short notice, was beyond pricey. Especially for a kindergarten teacher. Yes, a kindergarten teacher whose parents subsidized her apartment, but whatever.
“Well, I am, so deal,” Em said, sitting up and reaching for her diet soda on the bedside table, her hair a deep gold in the flickering firelight. A great selling point, the Realtor had said—fireplaces in all the bedrooms.
“But...why?”
Setting down the can, her cousin gave her a pitying look as the cat thudded onto the Navajo rug by the bed. “Because Josh asked me to come?”
Deanna shifted again, willing the baby to move. No dice. “That’s what I’m why...ing. I mean, what did he say? Exactly.”
Emily’s mouth twitched. “I didn’t record the conversation, Dee. But as I recall, he said you seemed...unsettled. Being stuck here and all. And he thought it might be nice to have something or someone from home to make you feel better. Even if for only a couple of days.”
Only, as thrilled as Deanna was to have her cousin here, Josh’s bringing that about sure as heck wasn’t making her feel less unsettled—
Em took another bite of the pepper. Because clearly the threat of late-night heartburn held no terror. Tougher than she looked, that one. “So what’s going on between you two?”
Yeah, she’d figured that was coming. “Nothing. At least, nothing different. Josh and I are friends. Same as before.”
“A friend who just laid out a not insubstantial wad of cash to get me here.”
Deanna turned to stare into the flames, figuring the glow from the fire would mask her blush. “The Talbots are a generous lot.” At Emily’s chuckle, she faced her cousin again. “What?”
Em shrugged, then glanced around the room. “This was where I stayed all those years ago, isn’t it? Is it me, or has nothing changed?”
“The sheets, maybe,” she said, and her cousin chuckled again. “Because rustic charm
is apparently all the rage these days.”
That got another short laugh before Em’s deep blue eyes met Deanna’s. “Josh said he’d take me riding tomorrow, if I want. Unless you can’t bear me to leave you for an hour or two.” Deanna threw a pillow at her; on another laugh, Emily threw it back. “Seems a shame to sell it, now that it’s really yours. Especially since you have no idea how much I envied you, getting to live out here. All this space. All this...” Emily glanced around, sighing. “Quiet.”
Deanna snorted. “I think the word you’re looking for is solitude.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. In measured doses. Twenty-four/seven, however...” Her shoulders bumped. “But in any case, it’s not all mine, remember? Besides, what on earth would I do with it?” And no, she had no intention of telling her cousin about her father’s “plan.” “And my half of the sale will go a long way toward taking care of this little girl until she’s not so little anymore.”
“But it’s your heritage—”
“I’m not a rancher, Em. And did you hear what I said?”
“Then let Josh do his ranching thing and you could open a gallery. Taos isn’t that far, right?”
“And where on earth did that come from?”
“Oh, I don’t know...maybe from the eleventy billion conversations we’ve had about it?” Emily grabbed a down pillow and hugged it to her middle. “You’ve got the eye, that’s not even a question. And you know that’s what you want to do.”
“Eventually, sure,” Deanna said, tamping down a spurt of something that felt more like panic than she wanted to admit. “In DC, maybe. Or some other city with an actual population. In New Mexico—?”
“Only it would be a helluva lot easier to start one out here than in a big city, wouldn’t it?”
“Except without selling the ranch, how on earth would I do that? Even here. It’s not as if your parents would bankroll me, is it? I didn’t think so,” she said at her cousin’s sigh. “And anyway... I’m not nearly ready to take on my own gallery. And I don’t know when I will be. So...”
“Fine, so maybe the logistics need some tweaking. The timing. But honey...” Emily ditched the pillow to reach for Deanna’s hand, all those soft brown waves tumbling over her shoulders. “It’s perfectly obvious you need a change. Because you’re not happy in DC. And you haven’t been in a long time.”
“Cripes, Em—I was just dumped—”
“Yes, I know,” her cousin said gently. “And you’re pregnant. But you weren’t happy before Phillippe, either.” Her mouth twisted. “Or during Phillippe, for that matter.”
“I never said—”
“You never had to. I know you, Dee. And I know...” Sitting straight again, Emily bit her bottom lip for a moment before saying, “You were...dazzled by Phillippe. Not that anyone would blame you, God knows. Older, charming...the man is pretty damned dazzling. A douchecanoe, but dazzling. But obviously what you had with him...it wasn’t real. And be honest—did you ever really trust him? Completely?”
Blinking away the sting in her eyes, Deanna sagged back in the chair, half smiling when the cat jumped up on the arm to give her a penetrating look. Yeah, can’t wait to hear how you answer that one. And if this had been anyone other than Emily, or if her defenses hadn’t been worn to nubs, she might’ve taken offense. But how could she, since it wasn’t as if she hadn’t asked herself the same thing a hundred times since the breakup? The thing was, though...
“Yes,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. Emily plucked a tissue out of the little square box on the nightstand and handed it over. “I did trust him. And that was my mistake. Like you said, I was dazzled. And so, so flattered that he thought...” She blew her nose, then let out a strangled little laugh. “Okay, that I thought he thought I was...special.”
“Oh, jeez, Dee...” Emily got off the bed to kneel in front of her, taking both Deanna’s hands in hers, soggy tissue and all. “You are special. He was the jerk. Obviously.”
“Then why couldn’t I see that? Why couldn’t I...” She blew out a breath. “How do I know I won’t make the same mistake again?”
Now she noticed her cousin’s eyes were wet, too. But instead of spewing more platitudes, Emily only got to her knees to pull Deanna into her arms, rubbing her back when she finally let the tears come.
* * *
One of the problems with doing a good deed, Josh thought on Thanksgiving night after most everybody had left and he found Deanna in the kitchen chowing down on the remains of Val’s pumpkin cheesecake pie, was that you never knew what the consequences of that good deed might be. Or when it might come back to bite you in the butt. In this case, the good deed being getting Dee’s cousin here, the consequences being Emily’s talking his ear off on the long, long drive back to Albuquerque yesterday morning. Yeah, he strongly suspected Dee would kill her cousin if she’d known how loose-lipped she’d been.
Of course, it was obvious Emily was only worried about Dee, so he couldn’t exactly take issue with her lack of discretion. Especially since God forbid Dee would ever open up to him. These days, anyway—
“Oh!” she said, catching him and Thor watching her. Well, Josh was watching her, the dog was most likely watching food disappear into her mouth. “You’re still here!”
“I am.”
With a sheepish grin, she waved her fork at the mangled pie. “So come keep me from making a total pig of myself.”
See, that was the thing, Josh mused as he dug another fork out of the “everyday” drawer and sat next to her, the dog joining them as though he’d been issued a personal invitation. As he’d already noticed, Dee wasn’t a bitcher. Not anymore, at least. Although if half of what Emily had said was true, the woman had more than enough to bitch about.
And whether he was still mellow from being stuffed to the gills, or simply couldn’t face returning to his empty house—since his parents had taken all the grandkids for the night—suddenly the thought of sharing a pie with the woman who’d once been his best friend sounded like a damn fine idea. He also supposed, despite his earlier reluctance, they needed to address the business about her father’s will, if for no other reason than to clear the air. Move on.
After pouring himself a glass of milk, Josh sat at a right angle to Dee, smiling when she inched the pie closer to him. By his knee, Thor whimpered.
“You don’t like the crust?” he said, noticing she’d eaten the filling right up to the ruffled edge.
“Not really much of a crust person. Have at it.”
“Done,” he said, breaking off a big chunk. His sister-in-law used butter in her crusts, so they melted in your mouth like the world’s best cookie. Although he shared with the dog, just to be fair. “Don’t tell my mother, but your turkey? Best I’ve ever eaten.”
Forking another bite into her mouth, Deanna burped out a little laugh. Her eyes were practically glowing tonight, like maybe she was feeling pretty mellow herself. “Thanks. I got the recipe online someplace. It was brined overnight in apple cider and all sorts of spices and stuff. Although if you hadn’t’ve put it in the oven for me it wouldn’t’ve happened.”
“Glad to be of service.”
Smiling slightly, Dee sucked on her fork for a moment, then set it in the plate and leaned back, her arms crossed over the bump.
“You done?” Josh asked. Hopefully.
“My mouth says no, but my stomach has other ideas. It’s a little crowded in there. So it’s all yours.” Thor laid his chin on Josh’s knee, and Dee laughed, then sighed. “And we need to talk, don’t we?”
“About?”
“Why Dad left the house to both of us.”
Even though she’d spoken softly, there was no missing the edge to her voice. Wasn’t directed at him, though, he didn’t think.
“I agree.” Josh took a s
wallow of milk, then shoved in another bite. “What’d my dad tell you?”
Her mouth twisted. “That my father wanted to ‘fix things.’ The implication being, that he was sorry he broke us up—even though we weren’t really ‘together’—by sending me away. And now...” She shrugged, then almost laughed. “God, I can’t even say it.”
Because, Josh assumed, the whole thing was too preposterous to even consider. Of course.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, matching her position as he chewed, “your father sure as hell never mentioned his plan, if that’s what it was, to me. And two, since it’s not actually a condition of the inheritance—which probably wouldn’t stand up in court, anyway—I think we’re good to keep on the way we are. Or, aren’t.”
After a good two, three seconds of steady staring, Dee finally nodded. “That’s what I figured.”
“So your dad never said anything to you, either?”
“Not a word.” Frowning, she stroked her hand over her belly—he could see the baby moving underneath her sweater—then released a breath that was more laugh than sigh. “You don’t think...oh, this is crazy—”
“What?”
“What if your father made it up? Because he’d like to see us get together?”
“What?”
She shrugged. “Just a thought.”
“If a totally off-the-wall one. Because Dad...no,” Josh said, shaking his head. “In any case, even if he did, neither one of us is...well. It just wouldn’t work, that’s all. For so many reasons.”
“So many,” she said, nodding. “So we can just forget about all of that, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Dee gave him a funny smile, then picked up the fork again, only to wince, her other hand going to her back. Josh frowned.
“You okay?”
“Probably on my feet too much today. Nothing a hot bath won’t fix. And a good night’s sleep. Although not holding out much hope for that. And why is your face all pinched like that?”
The Rancher's Expectant Christmas Page 11