Counting on the Cowboy

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Chase in the lurch. Couldn’t let him down. He had to stay—at least until the baby was born.

  * * *

  The afternoon echoed with bird chatter and song as Devree strode from her car to her sister’s porch. Landry swung in the hammock, raised her hand in a wave.

  “Did you sleep there?”

  “No. But I probably will soon.” Landry patted the netting beside her.

  “I’ll sit in the swing. If I lay down, I might go back to sleep with all this peacefulness.” Devree sat in the middle of the porch swing, pushed off with her pointy-toed heel.

  “You got the job. I would’ve thought you’d slept like a baby in your apartment the other night.”

  “For the first time since I initially moved to Dallas, I heard all the traffic, the sirens, the arguments.”

  “I knew it. This place has grown on you.” Landry wiggled and turned until she faced Devree. “Chase finally filled me in on what’s been going on. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about all the mice, live traps and cut fences.”

  “He’s the one who said not to tell you. We were trying to keep your stress level at zero. Why did he cave?”

  Landry shrugged. “I guess it’ll be in the paper since there’s been an arrest.”

  Devree’s heart sank. Had Brock been arrested? She hadn’t wanted to be right about him. If she was, it would kill Becca.

  “I can’t believe Tuckerman was behind it all. If Brock hadn’t been here and figured it all out, we’d still be in chaos and losing guests.”

  “Brock figured it out?”

  “He convinced Lee Jackson to turn Judson Tuckerman in.”

  Relief relaxed her tense shoulders. “So Brock wasn’t involved.”

  “Of course not. He and Tuckerman parted ways years ago because Brock realized he was corrupt.”

  He was innocent. And Devree hadn’t believed him. Firmly driving a wedge between them. Even if she decided not to return to Dallas, to stay near her sister and baby Sprint, there was definitely no hope for them now.

  A black car pulled in the drive and parked. Resa popped out, hurried to join them as Devree scooted over on the swing.

  “Cool hammock.” The swing jerked as Resa sat down.

  “Chase got it for me for Mother’s Day.” Landry patted her stomach. “How are you, my long lost friend?”

  “I’m absolutely blissful. But I’m a terrible friend.”

  “Stop. You’re busy. With the store, your designing, planning a wedding. You don’t have time to babysit me and baby Sprint.”

  “Sprint?” Resa’s eyebrow rose.

  Landry laughed, shot Devree a chagrined glare. “You’ve got me calling him or her that now.”

  “Chase is the father, so Sprint is the baby.” Devree clarified.

  “Cute.” Resa dug her phone out of her bag. “So I’m dying to marry that man of mine. And I love all the choices you sent me. I found the flowers, colors and decorations I’m going for.”

  “Let’s see what you’ve got.” So much for getting away from weddings. But she couldn’t let her friend down. No matter how bad she wanted to.

  They compared notes and pictures.

  “Can you make it happen?” Resa scrolled through more pictures.

  “Of course. But why the great room instead of the chapel?” Devree looked up from the phone.

  “My parents were married in the great room. I want to follow their tradition.”

  “I can’t wait.” Landry readjusted her weight in the hammock.

  “Me neither.” Resa clapped her hands. “I was worried. I can’t believe you had an opening in June. I assumed it would be your busiest.”

  “Devree’s moving away from weddings into events.”

  “You can’t do that. You’re the best wedding planner in Texas.”

  “Thanks. But I haven’t been inspired by my work for a while.”

  “Some guy broke her heart.” Landry’s tone echoed certainty.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because I can tell when my sister is hurting. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me about it.”

  Landry was right of course. Devree took in a big breath, then filled them in on Randall. How embarrassed she’d been.

  “Oh, Devree, I’m so sorry.” Landry blew her a kiss from where she lay. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  “You were having a difficult time back then. I thought you had enough to deal with.”

  “I’m never too heartbroken to hear your heartache. But you can’t give up on weddings, or men for that matter, because of one jerk.”

  “Well, I don’t think she’s given up on men, at least.” Resa chuckled. “I saw some pretty impressive voltage between this one and Brock that day in the store.”

  Devree’s face went hot. “Trust me, there was no voltage. We were only working together—trying to turn the fishing cabin into a honeymoon cottage.”

  “I thought I detected something there also.” Landry waggled her eyebrows. “Something I think you should stick around for.”

  The front door opened and Chase stepped out. “Lunch is ready.”

  Devree wanted to hug his neck for saving her from the inquisition. But truth be known, she missed Brock. And it had only been yesterday that they’d decided to work apart.

  She’d never been so happy to be mistaken about someone. Now, she had an apology to make. Would he accept it?

  She’d pegged Brock completely wrong. She should have known the man determined to smooth the hurt between his mom and stepfather wasn’t a man who’d conspire with Tuckerman to attain Landry and Chase’s ranch. If she admitted her error, would he forgive her for making the accusation?

  * * *

  Brock stepped out on the back porch of honeymoon cottage E to cut a half inch off the flooring plank. With four cottages complete, Chase had told him to start taking Saturdays off. But that would give him too much time to think.

  He looked up when he heard footfalls coming up fast.

  Devree darting toward him. Face panic-stricken. Something was wrong.

  He rushed to meet her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Landry’s in labor.” She held up her keys. “I can’t find my key fob and I’m shaking so much I can’t get my car unlocked with my spare.”

  “Give them to me.” He grabbed the keys. “You’re a mess. Let me drive you.”

  She nodded, ran to the passenger side as he unlocked the door, flipped the button to let her in.

  “They have to be okay. Both of them.” She fastened her seat belt.

  “Her due date is next week, so everything should be fine.”

  “This is week thirty-nine. Her stillbirth came at thirty-five weeks. The baby’s lungs weren’t developed enough.” She took a deep breath. “And Landry’s had similar complications with this baby.”

  He grasped her hands. “Dear God, put Your hedge of protection around Landry and the baby. Keep them both safe and healthy. Ease Landry and Chase’s fears. Give Devree peace. Hold them all in the palm of Your mighty hand. Amen.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice quivered.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Fredericksburg. Chase took her for a checkup this morning and the doctor didn’t like the baby’s oxygen level, so he induced. He said it shouldn’t be long now.” She sucked in a deep breath, as if ready to do battle. “Landry told me Tuckerman alone was behind all the problems at the dude ranch.”

  The abrupt subject change caught him off guard. “And you believed her but not me when I told you the same thing?”

  “It’s hard not to believe since you convinced Lee Jackson to turn him in. But I overheard the conversation you had with a former coworker and assumed...”

  “Wallace Montgomery. He’s an architect.”


  “I’m sorry I accused you of still working with him.”

  “Apology accepted.” But the words came out icy.

  With her on the edge of her seat, Brock turned the almost one-hour drive into forty minutes, tension propelling him. At the hospital, he let her out at the front door, went to park, then made the trek across the lot, and stepped inside the cool building.

  A nurse sat at the desk just inside.

  “Landry Donovan?” His nerves were about to jump through his skin.

  She pointed to the elevators, gave him the floor.

  “Thanks.” He strode over, pushed the button. The elevator seemed to move in slow motion.

  When it finally opened, he saw Devree sitting in the waiting room, her face in her hands, with Chase’s mom patting her arm, his dad pacing.

  Bad news? Please, no. “Devree? You okay?”

  Her hands dropped away. “Just worried.”

  “What did they say?”

  “That she’s progressing nicely and the baby’s vitals are strong. I’m sure everything will be fine.” Devree’s smile quivered. “Chase is in with her.”

  “What about your folks? Are they coming?”

  “Get this.” Her chuckle came out high-pitched. “Resa’s dad owns a small jet. He sent it to get them.”

  “That comes in handy.”

  “They should be here any minute.”

  As if on cue, the couple he’d seen at church with her hurried toward the waiting room. The man’s face was florid, clashing with his red hair. The woman’s curly graying brown hair was wild. Her blue eyes—so much like Devree’s in color, shape—were filled with worry.

  “How is she?” Devree’s mom asked.

  Devree stood, hugged her mom, shared the latest news.

  “No complications?” Her dad waited his turn, then embraced his daughter.

  “So far, so good.” Elliot shook hands with her dad. “This is Brock McBride, a friend of Chase’s. Meet Landry and Devree’s parents, Tina and Owen.”

  They exchanged greetings though obviously distracted. Was it his imagination or did her dad’s gaze linger on him a bit long? Had she said something about him to them?

  The doctor stepped in the doorway. “Donovan family?”

  “Yes,” several voices answered in unison.

  The doctor smiled. “We have a healthy girl.”

  “Thank you, God.” Devree whispered as relieved and excited words from others blended together.

  “What about Landry?” Owen asked.

  “She’s fine. The baby is seven pounds, six ounces. All her organs are fully formed. You can come back and see her if you like.”

  All the new grandparents, along with Devree hurried after the doctor.

  Brock leaned back in his chair, let the stress ebb away.

  “Are they okay?” He opened his eyes to find Resa standing there with a cowboy.

  “They’re both fine. It’s a girl. Their families just went back to see them.”

  “Oh, what a relief. Her parents got here in time.” Resa sank into a chair across from him.

  “Thanks to you, I hear.”

  “Just glad I could help. This is my fiancé, Colson Kincaid. Colson, this is Brock McBride, a friend of Chase’s and the dude ranch handyman.”

  The two men exchanged pleasantries as Colson took his seat beside his bride-to-be.

  More people showed up, crowded the waiting room. Some employees along with a few faces he recognized from church, including Mom and Ron.

  “Wow, where did y’all come from?” Devree stopped in the doorway.

  “Everybody okay back there?” Jed Whitlow asked.

  “Just fine, Jed. Landry wants Resa and Chase wants Brock to come see little Eden. You can come too, Colson. After that, they’ll take the baby to the nursery and everyone will be able to see her.”

  Aww’s echoed. They’d named the baby after Chase’s deceased sister. A lump formed in Brock’s throat.

  He followed Resa and Colson, trailing behind Devree down a long hall with rooms on each side. Pink or blue bows donned most of the doors. She stopped and opened one with a pink bow. Inside, Janice held a tiny bundle.

  “Stop hogging her.” Devree plopped down by Chase’s mom. “It’s my turn since I’m back.”

  Janice handed the baby over and Devree pushed the blanket back so everyone could see the tiny face framed by dark hair. She looked good cradling the baby in her arms. Natural and content. Like she’d be a great mom someday.

  But not to his children. She’d return to Dallas now. And find some businessman in a three-piece suit to give her the happy ending Brock could never provide for her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  She could leave. So why didn’t she want to? Enchanted with the tiny baby in her arms, Devree couldn’t take her eyes off her little niece. She’d barely torn herself away long enough to go to church this morning.

  “I may never sit down again.” Landry strolled around the living room. “Much less lay down. I may sleep standing up, propped against a wall.”

  Devree chuckled. “Or like a horse, free-standing. I’m glad you’re enjoying your mobility.”

  “I am.” Landry eased down on the arm of the couch beside her. “But little Eden was worth it. I’d do it all again—for her.”

  “She’s a doll baby.”

  “Not enough to keep you here though.” Landry sighed. “When are you leaving?”

  “I’ll stay a few days.” Why? Her niece? Yes. The country life? Yes. Brock? Yes. Though there was no hope for them. Not after the way she’d treated him. “I want to get to know little Sprint here.”

  Landry giggled. “I hope she likes your nickname for her.” Landry’s phone rang. She stood and dug it from her pocket. “Hey, Becca, everything okay there?” A pause. “Really? She’s right here. What a small world.” Another pause. “Sure, I’ll send her over.”

  “You’ll never believe who’s here.”

  “Who?”

  “The very first couple you married.” Landry’s eyes sparkled. “They just happen to be here celebrating their eighth anniversary. They were sharing wedding memories with Becca and mentioned what an awesome planner they had in Dallas. Becca realized it was you and told them you’re here. They invited you over for lunch at the ranch house.”

  “They’re still married?” Her heart warmed to the point of almost making her teary. “Wow.”

  “And apparently, happily. Go on over, they’re waiting.”

  She kissed Eden on the forehead, reluctantly handed her over to Landry. “I’ll be back, Sprint. Don’t you do anything fun without me.”

  Landry cradled the baby closely as Devree hurried out to her car.

  Minutes later, she parked in the dude ranch lot, dashed inside.

  Ava and Tyrone Webber waited for her in the foyer. “Devree, it’s so good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see y’all.” Especially together. She hugged Ava, then Tyrone. Her throat clogged with emotion.

  “You’ve got time for lunch?”

  “I do, if you’ll let me buy.”

  “Absolutely not.” Tyrone opened the door to the dining room for them.

  “I insist. Y’all are just what I needed.”

  “Why’s that?” Ava sat down at a round table.

  “I hate to depress you.” Devree settled across from her, relayed her post-wedding statistics. “Seeing y’all still living happily-ever-after is a balm to my insecurities.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. What are you doing here? Planning another of your awesome weddings?”

  “I did, a few weeks ago. But mainly, I’ve been here helping my sister out. She was in the last legs of a high-risk pregnancy. But she had my niece yesterday, and they’re both fine.”

  “Wonderful.” Ava scanned her me
nu. “We have two kids. A boy and a girl.”

  “Really? How old?”

  “Six and four.”

  Tyrone reached for Ava’s hand, squeezed it. “And we have Devree to thank.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. God brought you together, and you were smart enough to propose to this beautiful lady.”

  “He did. And I was. But you made our dream day come true.”

  Devree stared unseeingly at her menu, even though she knew it by heart. Maybe if she could find a preacher willing to counsel her prospective couples as part of her planning package—focus on the long-term marriage instead of the wedding alone—that would give couples a firmer foundation to start with. Maybe Ron? Probably not, if she returned to Dallas.

  If? She didn’t even want to anymore. Somehow, Bandera and life in the country had grown on her. It had everything she wanted to stay for. Her sister. Her niece. Brock. But she’d blown her chance with him. She couldn’t possibly stay here and see him on a daily basis after the wedge she’d driven between them.

  * * *

  Brock had promised to meet Mom and Ron for lunch, but when he stepped inside the ranch house foyer, Devree was there.

  “Hey.” She seemed almost shy.

  “Hey yourself. I’m meeting Mom and Ron for lunch.”

  “I was hoping to talk to Ron. Let me run something by you first.” Her cell rang and she dug it from her pocket, looking a bit confused when she glanced at the screen. “Unknown number, but it might be a potential client, so I better take it.” She swiped the screen. “Devree Malone, at your service. How may I help you?”

  Why was he still standing here, watching her, hanging on her every word? He could wait for Mom and Ron in the dining room. Or in the great room. But his feet stayed rooted in place.

  “Let me put you on speaker phone, so I can check my calendar.” She pushed the button. “What day?”

  “October 21. I know it’s short notice, but we want to get married on the anniversary of the day we met.” The hopeful bride-to-be sounded apologetic.

  Barely past mid-May, with October still months away. How long did these shindigs take to set up? And didn’t she hate weddings?

  “I’m open for that date. Where are you located and where will the ceremony be held?”