by Mindy Neff
It appeared as though the entire town had taken the day off in honor of Cheyenne Bodine’s marriage to a very pregnant Emily Vincent.
She might have thought it was morbid curiosity that drew them, but the community spirit and friendship was clearly evident. These people cared deeply about Cheyenne.
Oh, dear Lord, what had she gotten them both into? Was she being selfish? She would go back to Washington in a few months, but these people were his family. What would that do to his life?
“Emily?”
She jerked, realized someone had just asked her a question.
The preacher.
“Do you take Cheyenne as your lawfully wedded husband?”
She wanted to say, “Wait a minute, I need to think.”
She opened her mouth. “Yes.” Her heart lurched so hard she felt faint. She wasn’t going to back out, to humiliate him. He was her rescuer. He’d been deprived of his family, of Jimmy, through pride and a fault that was shared equally between brothers.
She meant to see that painful gap mended.
Cheyenne and Jimmy both deserved this reunion of family—even if Jimmy wasn’t here in person to reap the benefits.
Because this town was all about family.
She looked into Cheyenne’s eyes, saw his questions, his own reserve, his gentle compassion. This man had depths she doubted she could ever touch.
“I do,” she repeated.
Lost in his bottomless, obsidian eyes, the rest of the ceremonial exchange had a surreal feel to it, as though Emily were outside herself watching two very opposite people vow to love, honor and cherish, all the while their gazes clinging, their thoughts hidden.
And when at last Dan Lucas announced that Cheyenne Bodine should kiss his new bride, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean into him, to raise up on tiptoe, her hand against his chest, his large palms cupping her face, and to seal the bargain with a traditional kiss.
But nothing about this whole day felt traditional.
An instant before his lips touched hers, his intense eyes asked a silent question. Okay?
And with her own eyes, she answered, Yes. Thank you for asking. Thank you for taking care of me, for taking care with me. Thank you for not letting me go through this alone.
Applause broke into her consciousness.
The kiss and her emotions made her giddy. She swayed, and Cheyenne’s arms were right there to steady her, his sharp gaze examining, assessing.
Her new husband watched her like a hawk.
A protector.
It was much more than the star he wore on his chest, more than the civil oath he’d sworn to the people to protect and serve, more than the vow he’d just made to honor and cherish in sickness and in health.
After that soul-stirring, gentle and all-too-brief kiss, it was much, much more.
He was special. And he made her feel special.
And she told herself to just hold it right there, to stop getting carried away.
Although it felt like a fairy tale, this wasn’t for keeps.
Chapter Four
“Where are we going?” Instead of heading back to his truck after the ceremony, Cheyenne steered her across the street.
“The doctor’s office.”
“Cheyenne, I’m fine. Just tired. I don’t need to go to the doctor. Besides, we don’t have an appointment.”
“We don’t need one.”
Short of trying to tug him to a halt, which she didn’t think she could do, she let him sweep her along. She glanced around to see if people noticed where they were going, but most of the guests had already left, excusing themselves to get their cranky children home and see to their livestock.
Cheyenne’s uncle, John White Cloud, who’d silently slipped into the church and stood at the back apart from everyone else, had also left. Emily wanted to ask why the man hadn’t spoken to them, but right now it was all she could do to keep up.
“I don’t remember this pushy side of you. You might ask instead of steamrollering ahead.”
“You’ve been rubbing your back most of the day and you nearly fainted after the ceremony.”
Well, good grief. Who wouldn’t swoon after kissing Cheyenne Bodine?
“I’m fine,” she repeated, and smoothed a hand over her stomach. “There’re two babies in here. It’s a bit of a load to carry around.”
“Humor me.”
Since he was carefully propelling her with a protective arm around her back, she had little choice but to comply. It was probably a good idea, anyway. She’d seen her own doctor just before she’d left Seattle and gotten a list of ob-gyn’s who practiced in both Miles City and Billings, but it wouldn’t hurt to get acquainted with the doctor here.
Still, this was her wedding day, crazy as that seemed. And here she was, on her way to let another man—other than her new husband—examine her body.
Good grief, what a thought. Pregnancy was obviously affecting her brain.
They paused in front of the clinic, and Emily noticed that mere feet separated this door from the veterinarian’s office. It’d be just her luck to wander in the wrong door one day.
“Do patients ever get confused and end up at the wrong specialist’s office?”
Cheyenne grinned down at her, his black hat tipped low over his brow. “I’m not sure. I’ve known instances where one doc was unavailable and the other was called as backup.”
“The vet to deliver babies and the medical doctor to deliver animals?” She laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me. If I was in an emergency situation, I’d go for anybody with any kind of medical know-how.”
“Even me?”
“You have a medical background?”
“EMT training. I delivered a baby by the side of the highway once.”
She felt the warmth of his body next to hers, supportive, comforting…capable. And suddenly she was very glad that he was in her life. “You’re a handy man to have around, Bodine.”
“Glad you approve…Bodine.”
Her heart fluttered. Yes, she was a Bodine now. And she’d keep the name, she decided. She and the babies would have the same last name. It would make it so much easier when filling out school forms or enrolling them in preschool.
Lord, there were so many things to think about. And they all scared her to death.
Cheyenne opened the door and she went in ahead of him, stepping aside as a family of four went out.
A young woman in a nurse’s uniform looked up quickly from the chart she was reading.
“Hey, Kelly,” Cheyenne said. “Is the doc in?”
“Yes. Just finished up with his last patient.” She glanced at Emily’s swollen stomach. “Are you in labor, or just darn close?”
“Darn close—I hope,” Emily said. “Three more weeks to go, and believe me, I’m ready.” Ready to get rid of the discomfort. Not necessarily ready for what would follow.
“I hear you. The last few weeks are the toughest. At least we’re past the hot season.” She glanced at Emily’s ankles, obviously looking for swelling. “Did you want to see the doctor?”
“If it’s not a good time—”
“Yes, we do,” Cheyenne interrupted.
Emily raised a brow at his high-handed, brook-no-argument tone, and the nurse laughed.
“I’m Kelly Anderson,” she said. “Dr. Hammond’s assistant. And you are?”
“My wife, Emily,” Cheyenne answered before Emily could even get her mouth open. She glared again, but he simply ignored her. They were going to have to speak about this bossy, steamrollering penchant of his.
“Oh! Congratulations. I didn’t know you’d gotten married.”
“Just now, in fact.”
“Well, come on back and I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”
Emily started to follow, then frowned when Cheyenne trailed right behind her. “I can do this by myself.”
“But you don’t need to now.” His unreadable gaze skimmed her hair, her lips, her stomach.
His grin put her in mind of what the wolf might have looked like gazing at Little Red Riding Hood. “Don’t recall asking you to.”
She sighed and continued walking. Of course he wouldn’t ask her to. She was as far from sex-inspiring as a woman could get. And why in the world was she thinking about sex when she was about to go into a doctor’s examining room, for pity’s sake?
She would be heartily glad when her wild emotions settled back down to normal. These little babies were causing more havoc than she’d ever dreamed they would.
Not listening, or at least politely ignoring them, Kelly tapped on a closed door and stuck her head in. “A patient to see you.” She pushed the door wider, and Emily took one look at the doctor and felt her heart sink right down to her toes. Oh, no.
“I’ll be out front if you need me,” Kelly said. A silent moment passed between doctor and assistant, as though each was putting far more different connotations on the word need. Kelly glanced quickly away and hurried out.
Dr. Chance Hammond took a little longer to bring his attention back to the patient at hand.
Well, that was interesting, Emily thought. A little bit of tension between doctor and assistant, a whole lot of sizzle. Or was she simply seeing things, reading romance into every face because she’d just come from her own wedding?
A convenience wedding, she reminded herself.
Not a wedding based on romance and love.
Why that realization made her feel a pang, she couldn’t say. Hormones, she decided.
And those haywire emotions were going down another path at the moment, dragging her along faster than she could keep up.
Had all the men in this town grown up to be absolute hunks?
“Hey, Chance. This is Emily Vincent—Bodine now. We just got married.”
“I know. I’d have been there, but the Jeffersons came in at the last minute. One of the kids decided to share the flu with the rest of the family. How are you, Emily? And congratulations.”
“I’m fine. And thank you. And you’re not examining me!” Oh, Lord, how had that slipped out?
Chance frowned. Rather than looking at Cheyenne for an explanation, which she appreciated, he kept his professionally assessing gaze on her. “Is there a problem?”
Emily sighed and ran a nervous hand through her hair. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. But good grief, I knew you in school. I’m…this is beyond embarrassing.”
“You’re having a baby, Emily—”
“Babies,” she corrected.
“Twins?” At her nod, he continued. “All the more reason you need medical monitoring. Acquaintance or not, when it comes to medicine, there is no place for, or any thoughts along, an unprofessional line. I assure you, my ethics are beyond reproach.”
“I know. I’m sure they are. I’m just…I don’t know. I feel weird. I had a checkup last week, so I really don’t need an examination, and…I’m making a hash of this. I’m sorry. I don’t want to offend you.” It seemed like all she’d done since she’d gotten to Shotgun Ridge was apologize.
He gently motioned her into a chair, glanced at Cheyenne and indicated he should sit, also. “Okay. I understand.”
“You do?” She felt like an idiot.
Chance nodded. “If you’ll be more comfortable, Kelly can handle the basics of your care if you don’t want to make the trek into the city every week. How far along are you?”
“Due in three weeks.”
“Mmm. Time to keep a pretty close eye. Were you planning to deliver in Billings or Miles City?”
“In either one. I have some referrals.”
“I’ll have a look and add my own to it. Margo Freeman’s an excellent ob-gyn at Holy Rosary Hospital in Miles City.” He pressed an intercom button on the phone. “Kelly, would you come back in here, please?” To Emily he said, “In the meantime, would it be okay if I just took a little history from you?”
“Yes. I don’t know why I acted so strongly.”
“No problem. I’d be a little edgy, too. After all, it was my fault you got hauled off to jail by Sheriff Conroy.”
Cheyenne looked at Emily, his dark eyes filled with amusement and curiosity. “I don’t think I heard about that one.”
She sighed. “It was purely a case of overreaction—although Chance was the one doing the reckless driving. I was minding my own business in the back of his pickup with a bunch of other girls.”
“And you forgot to tell me you were underage,” Chance said in his own defense.
“You never asked. And I didn’t know you were going to take a shortcut and leave tire tracks all through Langley’s wheat field.” It was that jinx thing again, Emily thought. Out of everyone, she was the one whose parents had been summoned to come pick her up at the sheriff’s office. And by the next day the story had been so distorted, everyone had thought she had been driving the pickup. How the tale had included her mowing down Langley’s prize rooster was still a mystery to her.
The reminiscing broke the ice, and by the time Kelly Anderson came into the office, Emily was feeling much more relaxed.
Even though Chance Hammond had put aside reckless behavior in favor of saving lives and healing the sick, she was still glad that there was a woman available to turn to.
“Pull up a chair, Kelly,” Chance said. “Emily’s about three weeks from term in her pregnancy. I’m going to refer her to an ob-gyn, but we’ll get a chart started, anyway.” When the assistant was seated, Chance looked back at Emily. “Any problems we should be aware of?”
“No. Although the doctors told me multiple births are considered high-risk pregnancies, I’ve pretty much sailed through.” She could feel Cheyenne watching her, obviously leaving it up to her whether or not she wanted to explain the circumstances of the pregnancy. “I’m, uh, actually a surrogate.”
To his credit, Chance didn’t even bat an eye. Neither did Kelly, though there were plenty of questions in their eyes. She told them about the in vitro fertilization using Debbie’s egg and Jimmy’s sperm. It took a while to get it all sorted out, to explain about Jimmy and Debbie, to accept condolences and experience the raw pain all over again, the pain that continually lurked, but that she’d managed to subdue.
And through it all, Chance Hammond gave her his full attention, his demeanor professional and friendly. The only time he really reacted was when Cheyenne leaned in close to her, reached for her hand, lending his own comfort, sharing her hurt and grief, infusing her with his strength.
It was the type of thing a husband or lover would do.
Cheyenne and Chance were friends. The doctor was obviously speculating about the undercurrents here, wondering if there was a history, if there was more.
Cheyenne was her husband. As for the lover part…well, a girl couldn’t have it all. And why in the world was she even thinking along those lines?
It was those kisses, she decided. She’d have to make sure that sort of thing didn’t continue.
Her emotions were already strung out enough.
WHEN THEY GOT HOME, Cheyenne went out and worked with the horses. He needed time to clear his head. Getting married and going to his new wife’s first doctor’s appointment was a little too surreal for comfort.
For about the thousandth time, he questioned his sanity, wondered why he’d pushed for marriage.
The sound of a truck pulling up in front of the barn usually didn’t faze him.
But he knew the sound of this particular truck. A diesel engine. On the Ford his uncle drove.
He gave Thunder’s cheek a scratch, set down the currycomb and went to the door of the barn, watching as his uncle John climbed out of the truck.
The older man’s steel-gray hair was a couple of inches past his shoulders, tied at the nape with a strip of leather. Normally whiskers covered his lower chin, but he’d shaved—evidently in honor of the wedding.
Which he’d barely stayed for.
“Uncle,” Cheyenne said, holding out his hand in greeting. “I figured you’d stop by.”
“I brought Martin.”
Cheyenne nodded at his young cousin, who shrugged as if to say, “Don’t ask me nothing. You know the old man.” Martin, who was seventeen and Cheyenne’s main source of help at the ranch, had his own vehicle. He didn’t need to bum rides from their uncle.
“Any problems I need to know about?” Martin asked.
When Cheyenne shook his head, the kid went into the barn. He knew his way around this ranch as well as Cheyenne did.
So did John, for that matter. John White Cloud had always taken an interest in Cheyenne’s life, and he came out to the ranch often. He was a man of few words, but his silence often spoke volumes.
“So, Uncle, why didn’t you stay and meet Emily?”
“We have met.”
“When she was young.”
“Yes. And now she is carrying my great-nephew.”
“Maybe a niece. Or one of each.” Although what that had to do with meeting her now, Cheyenne had no idea.
John nodded and moved with Cheyenne into the barn. Picking up a pitchfork, he automatically began shifting straw in one of the stalls. Cheyenne grabbed another tool and worked alongside him, knowing the man would say what he wanted in his own time.
“She has the look of class about her.”
“Mmm. She’s a bigwig at an advertising agency. Jimmy worked for them, too.”
“Jimmy had a fine talent for art. I imagine he did well at his work.”
“Emily said he did.”
John worked in silence for several minutes, his big weathered hands gripping the handle of the pitchfork as he hefted straw and spread it around the stall. Age hadn’t slowed him down at all.
“This is a good thing she has done for our Jimmy.”
“Yes.” The familiar smell of horses and hay and leather soothed him, which was a wonder since his gut had been clenched and jumping for days now. Ever since Emily Vincent—Bodine—had let herself into his house and his life and fallen asleep in his bed like a modern-day Goldilocks.
“A woman who sacrifices, who loves this deeply, is special. You have done the right thing by offering marriage.”