Now she was glad she hadn’t voiced her opinion. If she had, she and Brooke would not be on their way to becoming good friends.
Laney nodded. “Yes, I saw my OB-GYN last week and he says everything looks good.”
“I’ll say it is. You’re not even showing yet,” Brooke said, admiringly.
For Laney, not showing early in her pregnancy was a blessing. It had given her some time to try to figure things out, without her family poking their noses into her life. Unfortunately, her answers only led to more difficult questions. One of which was how in the world was she going to raise her child alone?
“Yet is the operative word,” Laney emphasized. “The doctor says I could start to pop at any time.”
“Even so, I hope when I get pregnant, I’ll be as lucky and as beautiful as you are.”
Laney blushed and laughed. “Thanks. And I’m hoping to be an auntie sooner, rather than later.”
Brooke looked away, as if she were embarrassed. “I’ll get back to you on that. Jameson and I are just enjoying being a married couple right now. Throwing children into the mix would only complicate things.”
“Tell me about it,” Laney muttered.
In an instant, she felt ashamed at her statement. Although she was starting to get more excited about the baby as the days went on, she still felt guilty about keeping the little one a secret from her family for so long.
As for Austin, he was too busy traveling the world to even care about what was happening with her, not to mention the town of Granger.
Just last week, her father, Steven Broward, the most powerful man in Granger and one of the wealthiest in the state, mentioned that he had emailed Austin a few newspaper articles about all the land grabbing that was going on in Granger. Laney wasn’t at all surprised that her father had yet to receive a response.
Of course, Laney knew that not answering an email did not mean that Austin was unfit to be a parent. That would be ludicrous. But it did speak volumes about how easy it was for Austin to ignore her father, even though he had conducted business with the Broward family.
Or maybe Austin was trying to send the message that the Browards themselves didn’t matter, neither did the land grabbers and least of all, Laney. Although he’d contacted her a few times the week after their evening together, she hadn’t heard from him since.
Laney took off Stella Rose’s saddle and handed it to Brooke.
“I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. I’m happy about the baby. It’s just that—”
“Nobody can blame you for being upset,” Brooke interrupted. She wiped the saddle down with a towel before placing it on a shelf. “You’re going to be a single mom. That’s a situation that would be difficult for anyone to face.”
Laney took off the saddle blanket. It was a little damp from the ride, so she hung it over the stall door to dry.
She sighed. “Yeah. I’m dealing with things the best I can.”
In truth, Laney was scared to death, but she tried not to think about it. If she did, she would never be able to gain enough courage to tell her family.
Laney grabbed a clean towel off a hook and started to wipe the saddle marks off Stella Rose’s back.
Brooke frowned. “Where’s Trey? Do you really have to do all this work?”
Trey Dawson, Laney’s equine manager, was in charge of running the stable and taking care of her seven horses. He also assisted with her breeding program, everything from fielding calls from interested buyers to monitoring test tubes.
Laney walked around Stella so she could rub down her other side. “He has the morning off. Besides, I can still groom my horses. It relaxes me. And Stella Rose is special to me.”
Stella Rose, the foal of Daphne Blue and Dante’s Inferno, both champions, was a beautiful chestnut thoroughbred. As her beloved horse had grown to adulthood, Laney had gotten closer and closer to her until one day she’d decided that she would never sell her or breed her. After her gold medal win, Stella was officially retired and seemed perfectly content to spend her days grazing and eating.
Laney raised an eyebrow. “You may not be a horse breeder, but you’re a rancher, just like I am. Do you mean to tell me that when you get pregnant, you’re going to stop being who are?”
Brooke paused. “I may be a rancher, but my heart is in being an artisan. When I have a baby, I certainly wouldn’t stop doing pottery.”
Laney pointed her towel at Brooke. “That’s what I’m talking about. Women don’t have to change who they are just to have a baby.”
Brooke nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. When you told me you thought you’d had a miscarriage early on in your pregnancy, I—”
Laney wiped Stella Rose’s face, ignoring her neigh of disapproval. “Well, I didn’t,” she stated firmly. “I was mistaken and I’m fine.”
Brooke cocked her head to the side. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a gold medalist,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Laney laughed and tossed the towel into a basket outside the stall to be washed later. She started to check Stella Rose’s hooves for any rocks or pebbles that may have gotten in them during their ride.
“Where do you keep that thing anyway? Hidden in some hay?” Brooke asked. She looked around, pretending like she was on a hunt to find Laney’s gold medal.
Laney cast a secretive smile. “Don’t worry. It’s in a very safe place.”
Satisfied that her horse was appropriately groomed, she undid the halter. Both women laughed when Stella Rose immediately started nibbling at the hay pile in the corner.
They exited the stall and Laney secured the latch. Stella Rose’s ears pricked up at the sound.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Laney cooed lovingly. “When Trey gets back in a little while, he’ll put you out in the pasture with everyone else. You need some time to cool down now, okay?”
Stella Rose stared at her owner and then dipped her head back down to her food.
Brooke giggled. “Good thing I speak horse, too. Otherwise—”
“You’d think I was crazy?”
Brooke nodded. “I haven’t gotten to the point where I talk to my pottery,” she joked. “And I hope I never will!”
They both roared with laughter as they walked outside.
“So, did you find anything out from Jameson? What’s the deal with the family meeting?”
Brooke pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail. “Other than more talk about the land-grabbers in Granger, he doesn’t know.”
Leave it to Jameson to have his head buried in the ground, Laney thought. Her brother wouldn’t know gossip if it hit him in the face.
“I bet Jameson will be the first one at the meeting,” Laney said wryly. “We both know how he feels about strangers buying up our town.”
Brooke nodded. “He’s a real hometown boy. He loves ranching and the town of Granger so much.”
“You know that better than anyone,” Laney replied.
Brooke’s family, the Palmers, were ranchers, too, but certainly not at the same level as the Browards, both land and profitwise.
She still couldn’t believe Jameson had married Brooke just so that she could keep her half of the family ranch. Due to an odd codicil in Brooke’s father’s will, Brooke had to be married to inherit her half of Palmer Ranch. And even though Brooke had no real interest in ranch life, she had felt compelled to carry out her father’s wishes.
Laney adored the BWB Heritage Ranch, the formal name for the Browards’ massive estate, but would she marry a man she hardly knew just to keep it in the family? She doubted it.
“Is Jameson still hoping to buy Meredith’s portion of the Palmer Ranch?” Laney asked.
Brooke’s sister, Meredith, who was estranged from the family and already
married, owned the other half of the Palmer Ranch. Laney knew that Jameson wanted to purchase all of Meredith’s acreage in order to prevent Samara Lionne, one of Hollywood’s biggest movie stars, from buying it for herself.
Brooke nodded. “Yes, but he hasn’t had much luck yet. He’s really worried that Samara will one day own the entire town of Granger, and to tell you the truth, so am I.”
“My father has voiced the same concern,” Laney said. “He’s still hurt that Wes sold all of his land to her. Plus, there’s been no word on what she plans to do with it, so it’s a huge mystery. Not to mention the fact that no one knows what Wes is planning on doing with his life, now that he’s decided to stop being a rancher.”
Wes, Laney’s older brother, who was once dubbed one of Montana’s Most Eligible Ranchers, seemed to have his sights set on living and earning a living anywhere but Granger. He and his new fiancée, Lydia, who was Samara’s former assistant, had spent the past few weeks traveling in Europe. Their next move and the overall drama that had plagued the town for the past several months were the subject of many spirited conversations around the Broward family dinner table.
Laney and Brooke sauntered out of the barn to the fence, taking their time to enjoy the feel of the spring breeze against their skin. They were both country girls at heart. There was no need to rush. Not when everything around them was so beautiful and peaceful.
“I don’t think Jameson will ever truly forgive Wes for selling off his portion of the Broward land to Samara,” Brooke noted. “I’m sure my sister will sell Samara her half of the Palmer Ranch eventually.”
Laney turned toward her. “Why would Meredith do that?”
Brooke leaned against the fence and snorted. “Why wouldn’t she? She hasn’t set foot in Granger in ages! Plus, Jameson found out that Samara is offering way over market value for the land. My sister has never been one to turn down lots of cold hard cash.”
Laney sighed. “Wes can be the same way. Hopefully, married life will soften him and help him rearrange his priorities. I love my brothers and I can’t stand when they disagree. I know their little feud keeps my mom up at night. And my dad, he just retreats into his office in the barn.”
It hurt Laney’s heart to fathom the stress she was about to unleash on her mother and father. They were older now, and although they were still incredibly active, Laney worried about how everything that was going on in their lives was affecting their health. If anything happened to her parents, she didn’t know what she would do!
Brooke cleared her throat, interrupting Laney’s mental stewing.
“Jameson did tell me that you hired a private investigator, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Care to spill the beans?”
Laney glanced away and took in a deep breath of air, which normally would clear her mind, but now it only made her thoughts more muddy.
How could you, Jameson? she thought. She should have known better than to trust her brother with a secret. He was so damn honorable sometimes.
She turned back to Brooke. “He wouldn’t tell you why because he doesn’t know the reason. It’s my business,” she stated, struggling to keep her voice even. She didn’t want to offend Brooke, but she had to ask the question.
“As is my baby. Please tell me you didn’t tell Jameson my secret,” she implored.
“No! I didn’t tell him anything,” said Brooke in a shocked voice. “But after all that he and I went through to be together, we’ve had enough secrets to last us a lifetime. And we really don’t need any more.”
Laney bit her lower lip. “I know. I’m sorry to have put you in such an awkward position. I don’t want anything to come between you and Jameson. You guys are perfect for each other.”
Brooke crossed her arms. “Believe me, I can understand why you want to keep this all a secret. But when are you going to tell your family, Laney? And more important, when are you going to tell him?”
Him.
Austin. The man who was no more than a family friend was now more intertwined with the Browards than anyone realized.
Laney leaned over the railing. “Today. At the family meeting. Everyone will be there and you’re right. It’s time.”
She stared down at her riding boots, caked with mud. Just thinking about telling her parents and her brothers that she was pregnant made her want to saddle up Stella Rose and ride off into the sunset.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure that this time there would be a happy ending.
Chapter 2
By the time Laney arrived at the BWB Ranch that afternoon, she felt like she was experiencing morning sickness all over again. It was more than just a queasy stomach. There was the sense that something profound was going to happen and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
With one hand on her stomach and the other on the steering wheel, she eased her truck down the winding driveway. She drove as slow as her grandfather, who preferred the other kind of horsepower, and just as cautiously.
The Browards’ opulent lodge-style estate often attracted tourists, and out of habit, she ducked her head down a little to avoid being seen. However, today there was no one ogling, no one asking for autographs and no pushy photographers. For once, she wished there were so she could turn around and drive back home.
She pulled her truck around back, joining the other vehicles that were already there. Chokecherry bushes, neatly groomed, lined the private redbrick walkway to the garden entrance of the estate.
She got out and inhaled the sweet scent of lily of the valley, already blooming due to the pervasive rains that had assaulted Granger off and on for the past few weeks. Their delicate white petals were a cheery contrast to the still overcast skies.
She bit her lip and opened the door, but no one was there. Many of the more informal family gatherings were held around the enormous pine table in the kitchen. This meeting must be more serious, she thought, as she hurried through the dining room and to the Great Room.
When she arrived, everyone was seated, but no one was talking and no one looked happy.
Resisting the urge to put her hand on her stomach, she forced herself to walk down the two steps into what, on any other day, was her favorite room in the house. Now it felt like she was stepping into a ticking time bomb.
She popped a smile onto her face. “Why are we meeting in here today and not the kitchen?”
No one answered.
“Okay. Let me guess. Did Dad threaten to cook again?”
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making the room seem too bright. It was so quiet that she could hear the birds chirping outside.
Her stomach tightened again. “What’s wrong with everybody?”
Wes and Jameson looked at each other and snickered a little. Although Laney was glad to see that that they seemed to have put their disagreements aside, she had hoped it wouldn’t be in solidarity against her.
Gwendolyn, her mother, sat stone-faced in her favorite chair, and seemed to be waiting for something.
Her father strode up to Laney and thrust a newspaper in her face.
“This is what’s wrong,” he snapped. “Take a good look.”
LANEY BROWARD’S BABY BUMP?
Surely that can’t be me? Laney thought, her throat constricting in panic.
But there was no mistaking the headline plastered all over the front page of the Granger Daily News. It was as clear as the natural springs that dotted the Broward homestead, and as noxious as cow patties.
Even though she had her sunglasses on, the photo in the newspaper was also a dead giveaway. Her signature long hair, cowboy boots and the soon to be not-so-skinny jeans were her standard wardrobe.
Laney took a belated step back in shock. She’d been so careful, but obviously something had gone wrong.
She took hold of the newspaper and her heart
thumped in her chest as she read the article.
Laney Broward, one of Granger’s most celebrated citizens and the daughter of Steven and Gwendolyn Broward, two of the wealthiest people in the state, was recently spotted in Bozeman, emerging from the office of Dr. Martin McCreedy, a prominent obstetrician who is known for treating Montana’s richest women.
Sources close to Ms. Broward, who is a successful horse breeder, reveal that she is currently studying for a master’s degree in animal science at Bozeman University. But we have to wonder...is she also enrolled in Parenting 101?
Despite the blaring headline, Laney opened her mouth in protest. But before she could say a word, her father grabbed the paper out of her hands.
“Don’t worry. I’ve already called our attorneys,” he sputtered, crumpling the evidence of her indiscretion in one large hand. “We’ll slap a libel suit on them quicker than the Granger Parks & Recreation Department can build a stop light!”
Wes sat up on the couch. “Hey, Dad, don’t tear up that paper. I want to scan it and post it to Laney’s Wikipedia page.”
Jameson took out his phone. “And I’ll take a picture of it and post it on Facebook. Maybe it will go viral!”
Her brothers high-fived and began to laugh hysterically.
Laney moved past her father and glared at her older brothers. They’d had a habit of picking on her when they were younger, and they still hadn’t grown out of it. She’d never been one to fight, but right now they were both asking for it. If only she wasn’t pregnant and if only her mother hadn’t taught her that ladies never raise their hands—except in class or in prayer.
She clenched her fists. “It’s not funny!”
Her grandfather, Charles Broward, the heart and soul of the family, shuffled into the room. He wore his trademark plaid flannel shirt and well-worn blue jeans, except he called them “dungarees,” and a deep scowl.
Loving Laney Page 3