Because he’d gone and done it. Fallen for another city girl. Though she wasn’t as selfish as his mom had been in her youth, or calculating like his ex-fiancée, there was just no getting around Devree’s obvious need to start her new business in Dallas.
Why did he always fall for the wrong woman? He was twenty-eight years old. At this rate, he’d never have that do-over he always wanted. His chance of having the perfect family was quickly fading.
“Oh, good. I found you.” Mom’s voice was panicked. “We need your help.”
Devree’s cordless screwdriver stopped. “Is Landry okay?”
“She’s fine. But the pregnant goat, Polly, is missing. She was tucked away in the most secure stall in the barn. I don’t know how she got out, but Troy came to the house looking for you. He said you have a way with goats.”
“He has a way with the feed bucket.” Devree chuckled, her gaze catching his for a brief moment.
Making his heart take a dive for her all over again. “But that won’t work since I don’t know where she is.”
“The hands have searched the entire place. If they don’t find her, they’re afraid coyotes will get her and the kid.”
“Sounds like it’s time for a picnic.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Mom smiled, her eyes going warm at the memories.
Shared memories. Good ones.
Devree scrutinized them. “What am I missing?”
“When Brock was little, I took him on a picnic. Six goats were out that afternoon, but we didn’t even know it until they all showed up at our picnic.”
“Because they were hungry?”
“They were curious.” Brock locked another hardwood plank in place, then stood, brushed off the knees of his jeans. “Goats will investigate anything out of the ordinary. They can’t seem to help themselves.” He turned to his mom, offering an olive branch. “Got time for a picnic?”
Regret filled her expressive eyes. “Oh, how I wish. But we have a full house of guests and this is my cleaning time while the majority of them are out to lunch. But I’d love a rain check on my day off.”
“I can probably manage that.”
Her chin quivered like she might burst into tears, but she gathered herself. “In the meantime, I’ll send one of the kitchen staff over with a basket and you can take Devree.”
His heart kicked into overtime. Did Mom know he had a thing for her? Was this really about the goat?
“I do love a picnic, but I have work to do,” Devree sighed, as if she truly longed to go. Obviously for Mom’s benefit. “But does it really take two people?”
“Goats are very social.” Mom peeked out the window. “Conversation seems to draw them out. Please don’t make Brock go on a picnic all alone and talk to himself too. It won’t take long,” she insisted. “And this is Landry’s favorite doe. If anything happens to Polly, she’ll be crushed.”
The trump card. He could almost literally see Devree caving.
“All right.”
“Great. I’ll send a basket over ASAP.” Mom’s gaze pinged back and forth between them. A satisfied smile settled in place and she scurried out.
Was the goat even missing? Or was she onto him and trying to spur things along between him and Devree? Was she trying to help him with his happily-ever-after? If so, she was on the wrong track.
* * *
Surrounded by the perfect picnic, Devree tried not to look at the captivating cowboy sitting on the bright tablecloth in the middle of the field with her. A basket filled with yummy food fresh from the buffet. No goat in sight.
“We need to talk about something to draw her attention.”
Devree searched her brain. They had nothing in common. While she worried about spiders or snakes finding their picnic, he was perfectly content experiencing nature. She loved the hustle and bustle of the city, he treasured the sound of crickets and frogs.
“So what do you plan on doing once you get back to Dallas?”
That again? Why was he so hung up on her leaving? His enthusiasm for her departure might just convince her heart to settle down. “The contest has gotten me several family and high school reunions, along with a couple of company retreats and conferences.”
“Good. So you got what you wanted.”
Not really. “How was the family dinner last night?”
“It was nice.” He scanned the field surrounding them. “This place always felt like home to me, so it’s great to be back. For good.”
“I’m so glad. I mean—that you and Becca are working things out. She’s a very sweet lady.” If only they could overcome Dallas. A pang lodged in her chest. “The Fletchers and Millers are awesome people. You landed in a pretty cool family.”
“Don’t look now. But we have a pregnant goat at ten o’clock.”
“Really? Where did she come from?”
“That thicket of oaks behind the barn. I didn’t figure she’d gone far.”
“How do you think she got out?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think she did. Someone had to have let her out.”
Please, no. “But Lee’s not here, anymore.”
“No. But he doesn’t live far. Whoever paid the last handyman off could have found someone else to do his dirty work.”
“Chase really needs to call the police. Is the goat still coming toward us?”
“Sure is.”
“How do you plan on catching her?”
“She’ll probably come all the way over, let us feed and pet her. I have a rope. You distract her and I’ll slip it around her neck.”
Which would bring their time together to an abrupt halt. Yes, they’d be back at the honeymoon cottage with him doing flooring and her working on decor. But their forced conversation would end. She hated this strain between them. Wished the kiss had never happened. But then, she wouldn’t have the memory to savor.
Her cheeks heated. Dry grass crunched behind her as the goat approached. At least, she hoped it was Polly.
“Right behind you. No sudden moves.” He set a container of watermelon between them. “Hey, Miss Polly. Fancy meeting you here,” Brock crooned as if speaking to a child. “Want some of my melon?”
The goat nuzzled the container, stole a slice.
“Can I pet you, Polly?” Devree reached toward her, palm up, nonthreatening. “You’re a pretty goat. As far as goats go.” Her hand made contact on the side of Polly’s neck. She didn’t flinch, just crunched on her watermelon rind. She had thick wiry gray hair with patches of black and white on her face, ears and feet. For some reason, Devree had expected it to be soft. “You still stink though.”
Polly raised up to chew, nuzzled Devree’s shoulder, probably leaving a pink streak on her favorite white blouse.
“You haven’t smelled stink until you get a whiff of a buck.” Brock smoothed his hand along Polly’s back. In one swift motion, he slid a rope over her head. “Gotcha.”
The goat didn’t seem to mind. Just kept chewing as Devree patted her shoulder. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
“I reckon I’ll get her back to the barn and we can continue our work.” Brock stood. “Leave this. I’ll come and clean it up later.”
“I’ll take care of it.” She wiped her hands down with sanitizer. “We can take it back to the cottage. Nibble while we work.”
“I’ll track Chase down, tell him somebody’s up to no good again, then meet you there.” He led the tethered goat toward the barn.
Her heart slid even farther down the slippery slope, landing at Brock’s booted feet. Landry’s due date couldn’t come fast enough. Devree needed to escape the handsome cowboy’s magnetic pull. While she still could.
* * *
Brock sent a text to Chase.
Is Landry asleep?
No.
Brock dial
ed the number.
“Your mom suggested I bring plates for y’all. I’m calling to take your order.”
“I can come get food.” Chase chuckled. “Trust me, I won’t go hungry.”
“But if I bring it, then you can stay with her.” And give him a reprieve from working with Devree for a bit longer. No more picnic lunches with her.
“Good idea. Thanks.”
Brock strolled down the buffet, naming off its contents.
“I’ll text you our orders. You sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Any last minute tasks need done at the house?”
“Not a thing. I think Landry has slept better the last few nights than she has in months. You’ll never know how much I appreciate you. Bring your lunch and visit with us.”
“Glad to be here. I’ll have our food over in two shakes of a goat’s tail.” He went to the kitchen, asked for to-go boxes.
“Better send four.” Janice, Chase’s mom handed him the Styrofoam containers.
“Why so many?”
“It’ll take two for Chase’s order, trust me. And one’s for salad. Landry always likes salad.”
“What kind of dressing?”
“Ranch.”
“How much?”
The kitchen door opened and his mom stepped in, gave him a warm smile. “Just checking on the lunch crowd to see when I can start cleaning the dining room.”
“Becca, could you help Brock with portions?” Janice grabbed the salad box back from him, handed it to his mom. “He’s taking plates over to Chase and Landry.”
“Sure.” Mom’s eyes lit up as if this task was the highlight of her day.
“But remember, she’s eating for two.”
A few weeks ago, he’d have been livid over this turn of events. “Thanks, Janice.” He strolled to the door, held it open for Mom, then followed her into the dining room. There were a few stray guests, but it was mostly empty.
“How about you hold the boxes and I fill them up? Just tell me what she wants.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He dug his phone from his pocket, read off the text from Chase.
“I was thinking maybe you could join Ron and I for supper tonight.” She put lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers in the box. “Just the three of us this time.”
Could he have another nice evening with his mom, without Scarlet and Ruby there as buffers? Or would it get awkward? Her preacher husband was a fine man. Loved the Lord. Spent years working at a dude ranch. They had a lot in common.
And Ron knew the truth now, so he wouldn’t have to worry about watching his every word.
Maybe Devree could go with him this time. No. He couldn’t get any more attached to her than he already was. His heart couldn’t take her nearness, anyway.
“That sounds nice.”
The dressing spoon Mom held stopped drizzling. Her hand trembled slightly. “Thank you.”
A large lump lodged in his throat. He swallowed. “You’re welcome.”
Mom set the container filled with salad aside and went to work on the meat and veggies. With a second box finished for Landry, she handed it to him, patted his cheek. “See you tonight.” Her eyes closed, voice quivered. “I never thought I’d say that.”
“I’ll be there.” He squeezed her hand.
“Oh, Devree—” Mom looked past him, cleared her throat “—can you help Brock deliver lunch?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” Mom squeezed her arm, hurried to the kitchen.
Devree’s questioning gaze met his. “Is she okay?”
“She’s emotional. Since the moment I showed up, she’s wanted me to come to their house for supper with her and Ron. I finally agreed.”
“Want me to go with you?”
Yes. No. Maybe. “I thought about asking you. But sooner or later, we’re gonna have to communicate without a referee. Eighteen years doesn’t just magically melt away.” He picked up four containers. “Ready to go?”
“When did we start delivering lunch?”
“They’re for Chase and Landry.”
“So this is why they didn’t want me to bring anything over for them.”
“You checked too?”
“I did. Landry said they were taken care of, but to bring my lunch over and eat with them.”
“Chase invited me. Guess we’ll be sharing a meal together again.” Great.
But healing his relationship with his mother, getting to know her, Ron, Scarlet and his niece was worth sticking around for.
He’d just have to grow a tough hide around his heart. At least where Devree was concerned. And as soon as her niece or nephew was born, she’d be out of the picture, anyway. Why did his heart always give a painful tilt at that knowledge?
Chapter Fifteen
Why did she keep getting stuck with Brock? As if the entire dude ranch was conspiring to constantly shove them together.
She stepped up on the new house porch and pressed the bell while holding four food containers. Brock held the other four.
The door swung open and Chase grabbed her load. “Thanks, guys. She’s in her fancy living room.”
“I heard that,” Landry called.
Devree’s shoulder brushed Brock’s arm. Gooseflesh swept over her, as she hurried through the foyer to the living room. The smile on her sister’s face was worth all the hard work.
“It’s just feminine.” She scanned the floral fabrics, the shabby chic painted furniture and decor in shades of pale green and aqua, with splashes of lilac.
“I think I lost my man card when I walked in.” Brock looked around as if really seeing it for the first time. “Can we even eat in here?”
“Oh, shush. Of course not.” Landry sat up. “We’re going to my new kitchen.”
“I’ll carry you.” Chase started to pick her up.
“If you don’t let me walk, I’m going to lose the ability to. And the doctor said I can get up to eat and shower.” She stood, waddled toward the kitchen.
Devree grinned. It was sweet and odd to see her normally slender sister so cumbersome.
Landry and Chase settled at the table as Devree and Brock doled out the containers.
“So you like the house?” Devree looked around at the white cabinets, lace curtains and chicken wire accents.
“I love it. You did such a great job. It’s just the way I’d have done it.”
“Well, you basically coached me through it. I was your hands and feet.”
“Ooh.” Landry patted her stomach. “Speaking of hands and feet. This little one is really active today.”
“Maybe Sprint is hungry.” Devree clasped her sister’s hand. “Say a prayer, Chase.”
“Would you do the honors?” Chase turned to Brock.
He bowed his head and they followed suit. “Dear Lord, thank you for keeping Landry and the baby healthy. Please continue to keep your hedge of protection around them. The Donovans are such a blessing to so many, along with this ranch. Keep everyone here safe and in your will. Thank you for this food and the new friends I’ve made here. Thank you for repairing my family and helping me decide to make Bandera my home. Amen.”
“You’re staying?” Landry smiled.
“You still need to hire a new handyman. If that doesn’t happen, I’ll wait until after the baby comes.”
“But I thought you liked it here. You seem so at home and Becca said y’all talked. If you’re staying in Bandera, why do we need a new handyman?”
“The ranch will always be close to my heart. But I don’t belong here anymore.”
“Then where do you belong?” Chase asked.
“In Bandera. Just not in your bunkhouse doing odds and ends. I’m thinking of going back to building cabins. But I won’t leave you high and dry.”
“I’ll admit your talents
have been badly underused during your stay.” Chase gave him a sheepish grin.
“Thanks to the publicity for Devree’s contest, we’ve gotten several new reservations.” Landry dug into her meatloaf. “Maybe eventually, we’ll need more cabins built, and we know just the guy to call.”
“I hope so.”
“Devree’s gotten several jobs from the contest too. In Dallas?” A hint of sadness tinged Landry’s tone.
“Yes. But not until after the baby is born. And you know I’ll be around to visit.”
“I just wish you weren’t so intent on leaving. Chase and I hoped you’d end up staying too.”
“You know my life is in Dallas.” Her gaze clashed with Brock’s.
Small talk resumed, but Devree kept quiet through the remainder of the meal.
“I better get my princess back to her throne.” Chase scooped Landry up.
“I’d love to walk.”
“You already did. Only one-way walking, if at all.” Chase carried Landry into the living room as Devree and Brock trailed him. As he settled her on the couch, a knock sounded at the door.
“Want me to get that?” Brock offered.
“Please.” Chase sat next to Landry with her feet in his lap.
Brock stepped into the foyer, opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
With a wall between them, Devree cringed at the bitterness in his tone.
“I need to see the Donovans.” A man’s voice.
Chase shot to his feet, strode to the foyer. “How dare you come to my home. Get out.”
The door shut. Voices outside. Brock must have gone outside with Chase.
“Who was that?” Devree tried not to sound as worried as she was.
“Judson Tuckerman, a land developer.” Landry rolled her eyes. “He’s been hassling us to sell. Keeps upping his offer. He ought to catch on by now that this ranch is Chase’s family heritage. We’ll never sell. And besides that, the property is worth a lot more than he’s offering.”
“Why does he want it?”
“Who knows. Probably for some housing development or a high-end resort.”
The front door opened. “And don’t come back,” Chase snarled, as he slammed it shut once more.
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