by Tori Kayson
No. She couldn’t be the woman Fargo wanted. Not long term.
Her news curdled in her belly.
What was she doing dreaming of a future with the cowboy who’d never love her for herself? How was this relationship any different from Blake or Trevor? Dead ends that only led to heartbreak.
Her boot stumbled over an uneven spot, and her steps lagged. She covered a gasp with her free hand.
Fargo tightened his grip. Practically dragged her to where Jayce disappeared. Then the cowboy stopped just outside the open stall, gentling his touch and tucking her against his side. He gazed down at her with a tender expression. His lips curved up on one corner.
Love bled. Gushed out from every vein like an unstoppable wound. One that would never heal.
How would she—
“Meet…Porker.” This time his lips quirked, and he let loose that mega-watt smile again.
Her heart stuttered, almost stalled. “Porker?” she whispered.
Golden specks sparkled from his lush green eyes. His jaw softened. His entire frame relaxed as he nudged her through the opening.
Hope and Charity sniffed the straw around Jayce, their snouts twitching. Jayce sat cross-legged on the floor, a tiny bundle squirming in his arms.
She focused on the wriggling mass. “Oh!” She covered her mouth. Her head whipped back toward Fargo. “Is this what I think it is?”
He nodded.
Her lungs filled to bursting. She trucked over the straw and settled in beside the younger version of Fargo. Moisture rimmed her lashes.
Jayce handed him over. The poor kid still looked nervous. But that could just be her blurry vision.
“He’s so small.” Porker’s tiny snout wiggled against her blouse and tickled her ribs.
“He’s a she,” Fargo said, his tone dry with amusement. He uncrossed his arms and moved into the stall, shrinking the small space. He pressed denim covered knees into the straw and bumped her shoulder on purpose. Winked.
An ache lanced her already hurting heart. She sucked in a painful breath, but that didn’t help. Mostly all she took in was him. Woods and spice. Earthiness and…pig.
She was a survivor. She would get through this. Even if it cost her heart and meant the demise of her dreams.
She hiked her chin. “A she, huh? And you named her Porker?”
“Only until you got here. She’s yours to name.”
“She’s mine?” Joy surged through her like a rushing river.
Fargo and Jayce had bought her a pig? Her very first pet! She shook her head, digesting this news, as her hand grazed the wiry bristles along Porker’s back. Tears clouded her vision. With quivering lips, she swallowed the emotion that charged up to clog her throat.
All her life, owning a pet signified commitment. Commitment to the pet, to coming home. With a real family to love and care for it.
Just like their home. Their family. The way they loved and cared for their pets.
Her gaze slid to Hope and Charity, now sprawled out on the straw behind Fargo.
“Do you like her?” Jayce asked, his voice quiet, his expression earnest. Almost as if he was asking if she liked him.
She touched Jayce’s forearm and looked dead-on into his serious eyes. “I love her. Thank you for such a precious gift.” Jayce was a precious gift.
“What are you going to name her?” Jayce asked.
Just then a small snuffle came from the pig, a miniature-sized snort. They all laughed.
“Hmmm…Porker fits her.” She flashed a nervous warning glance at Fargo. “I’m not sure where I’ll keep her though.”
Fargo nodded. His gaze swiveled to his son, sending him some sort of unspoken code. “It’s all right. I warned Jayce that you might not be able to keep her in your apartment. She can stay here.”
Relief swelled. She crushed the pig tighter against her chest. “Thank you. But it’s not that.”
One of Fargo’s heavy eyebrows arched. That spot in the back of his jaw tightened into a knot.
“I quit my job today.” There. So much for keeping the news for a private moment. There it was, hanging out there in…
Silence.
The air stilled in the stall. Nothing moved, not even the piglet in her arms.
Fargo rocked back on his rump. His jaw hung open, but no words came out. Jayce’s expression mirrored his father’s. Both dogs rested their chins on their front paws, sleeping.
“Come on, guys. It’s not breaking news.” Or was it? Had she just made a colossal mistake?
Her lips quivered again. She struggled to get up from the barn floor, but Porker impeded her progress. She set the sleeping pig on the pillow and uncurled her leg—
Fargo’s hand, and his tender voice, stopped her. “That took courage.”
She nodded, battling back the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks. Her emotions had taken a major hit today. First the job offer, then the chat with her father, realizing the loss of her dreams, and now this precious gift. She was a hot mess.
She had to get out of here before she lost it. She tried one more time to stand, but Fargo’s gentle tug on her hand plopped her back in place.
“So what will you do?” Jayce asked. Excitement energized his voice. His gaze skittered to connect with his father’s.
At least one of the Kester cowboys was happy for her. “The university in Coldwater Ridge offered me a teaching position.”
“Coldwater Ridge?” Jayce squeaked. His hand snaked out to rattle Fargo’s arm. “Dad! Did you hear that? Coldwater Ridge!”
How would Fargo respond? Would he be thrilled or would this unravel the fabric of their long distance relationship? She couldn’t look at him. Instead, she focused on Porker.
“I’m right next to her, son. I heard.” His chuckle warmed her belly. Maybe shock had claimed his tongue. A rustling sounded next to her, then, “Darby—”
At his soft tone, she whipped her head around to face him.
He buried something in the straw next to his knee before his hands settled on denim covered thighs. His expression carried a mixture of little boy vulnerability and confident cowboy.
“Darby,” he started again and reached for her hand. “You charged into our lives in the midst of our storm.” He grazed her cheek with his knuckles, her mouth with his tender gaze. “Your smile chased away the darkness, beautiful and warm.”
He’d written a poem for her, too? Her heart puddled. Oh, how she loved this man! With watery eyes, she covered his hand with hers. “That’s so sweet. Thank you.”
“Let me finish, woman!” he growled. But the playful look on his face and the gentle squeeze from his hand belied the tone. “Your joy fills the lonely place in my soul, bubbles over like a spring. Fun and laughter and light your visits bring.”
He closed his eyes, as if calling up the rest of the poem in his head. When his eyelids lifted, golden specks glimmered. A tic pulsed in his jaw. He took both her hands in his. “Without you, sweetheart, the weeks crawl by. With you, oh, my love, my life, how the days fly.”
She tugged a hand away to cover her mouth, to corral the sob that threatened to escape.
“We dreamed and planned, and think we found a way. To make you a vital part of our lives every day.” His hand smoothed the hair next to her ear and then curled around her neck. Lion eyes held her captive. “I love you, Darby. We love you.”
Her breath squeezed from her lungs. Really? Her gaze skittered to Jayce.
Grinning, Jayce’s head bobbed with encouragement and affirmation.
Fargo pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin on her palm. His touch sparked fireworks to explode in her belly.
He flicked the lid on a tiny black box. A diamond solitaire sparkled from inside. “Darby Brewster, will you marry me? Be my wife and the happiest man I shall be.”
“And my mom!” Jayce echoed.
“Oh!” Her knuckles grazed Jayce’s jaw, love for this soon-to-be-man swelling her heart. She loved these cowboys more than life. But
were they sure she was what they wanted, needed? She angled back to Fargo. “I don’t cook—”
“Did I say anything about cooking?” He smiled, tender and sweet, and framed her cheeks in his hands.
Her insides mushed. Mercy! Was she trying to talk him into taking his proposal back? What was wrong with her? But she had to be sure.
“Darby, we won’t starve, I promise you.” Fargo’s eyes held a bit of teasing.
“And my job? Do you expect me to give that up?” She held her breath, leaning in…
“As long as you’re happy and satisfied with your job, that’s all that matters, sweetheart. If that ever changes, I’d love for you to stay home on the ranch. But, truly?” His heavy eyebrows lifted. Mischief softened his jaw, curved his mouth, and sparkled from his eyes. “There’s nothing more exciting to me than seeing your headlights dance up the driveway. We might fill our house with so many babies we’d have to add on.”
Joy exploded in her chest. She launched herself at the cowboy. “Yes! Yes!”
Laughing, he wrapped her in a tight embrace and then kissed her. But this was so much more than their others, so much deeper. A connection of two spirits. Overflowing with promise and commitment, instilling hope for a future. And sparked with just enough passion to prove what he said about the babies.
“Ew!” Jayce drawled. But his tone sounded more amused, as if he enjoyed witnessing their kiss.
Fargo pulled back, but kept his grip around her back. He grinned and glanced at his son. “Better get used to it, bud.”
“Never!” Jayce shook his head, something akin to horror on his face.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Fargo held up the ring then slid it on her finger, slow and steady, his gaze never leaving her face.
She stared at the silver circle, which represented a future. A family to love and cherish. A man to cuddle with at night, to wake up to in the morning. A man she would stand next to on the front porch, sipping coffee or iced tea, sharing dreams and workdays for years to come and watching their family grow.
A satisfied sigh lifted her chest at the same time that ripples of anticipation trembled through her frame. Sweet mercy!
Jayce dug something out of the straw behind him then popped to his feet, a water launcher in his hands.
“Welcome to the family, Darby!” In one lightning fast movement, he aimed and fired, blasting both her and Fargo with a stream of frigid water.
“Ahh!” she screamed, shielding her face with one hand. Fargo helped her up with the other.
The little coward tossed the weapon and raced from the stall, giggling as his boots carried him out of the barn.
“I’m honored to be your mother, Jayce! But now you’re going to get it!” she yelled, scooping up the water blaster, scrambling to find her footing.
“Not so fast, honey.” Her cowboy snagged her shirt and pulled her backwards against his rock hard chest. He confiscated the weapon and tossed it to the straw.
She pivoted and splayed her palms against his chest. Her new diamond twinkled, but her eyes were drawn to the smile that tugged at his lips. More precious than any diamond was the future that glimmered from his tender expression as his mouth claimed another kiss.
~ Epilogue ~
Darby finished scanning her notes for Monday’s lecture. Not that she’d be there to give it, but at least she could forward it to the substitute the university approved for her six-month leave of absence.
Her father.
Grandchildren transformed lives, indeed worked miracles, as Kate attested. Or maybe Fargo’s pre-wedding visit triggered her father’s transformation. Whatever the cause, her dad visited their home on a frequent basis now. He’d even rented a condo in Coldwater Ridge for his tenure at the university.
Ha! Seemed he’d fallen captive to the middle-of-nowhere town.
Grinning, she hit send on the email and tucked the tablet in her overnight bag. Hope and Charity trotted alongside as she padded down the hallway with her tote. She set it down at the front door as another pain sluiced through her belly, so intense it squeezed the air from her lungs. Sweat beaded her lip.
Panting, she hunched over, cradling her tummy, until it passed.
Hope whined and pressed his snout to her thigh. Charity let out a short warning bark.
“You boys take care of my cowboys, you hear?” She rubbed their necks.
Another pain struck her midsection. She glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle. Had she waited too long?
She stepped out on the porch. Hope and Charity squeezed past her and bounded down the stairs, their snouts pressed to the ground until they disappeared into the darkness.
Fargo glanced up from his poetry notebook, his brow furrowed. “Done?”
Jayce was in the barn with Slade doing evening chores. Fargo had increased their hours for the summer, along with their pay, allowing him to stick close to the house. Insecurity over Jennie’s death still plagued him, and he wanted to make sure she was happy. He didn’t need to worry on that count.
She was deliriously happy. With him, with their little growing family, with the ranch. Actually, she preferred the peaceful sounds of cattle lowing and tools tinkering in the barn over the continual drone of Dallas bustle.
She nodded and wiped her lip, trying hard to keep her breathing even, not to alarm him. “Yes.”
“Come and sit down. Relax.” He closed the journal and set it on the window ledge. A tender, concerned smile darkened his face.
Relax? If only he knew.
She grinned, fairly certain it came out more as a grimace. Neither of them would relax over the next few hours. Maybe she could spare a couple minutes. “Sounds wonderful.”
Before her rump touched the swing, he scooped her up and set her on his lap. She giggled and looped an arm around his neck. “What are you doing? I’m too big for you to hold.”
“Never.” He slid an arm around her protruding belly and tugged her to his chest.
“Mmmm. You smell divine.” She leaned into him, sniffing his fresh spicy scent, a combination of male and woods and something citrusy. Her fingers raked through his hair. She nibbled his neck.
“Keep this up, woman, and I’ll be dragging you into the bedroom.” He groaned and tugged her arms back, disconnecting her mouth from his neck as a tremor rocked his torso.
She smiled and patted her tummy. “I don’t think you’d get me too far.”
“No? Sounds like a challenge to me.” He hoisted her off the swing as if she weighed nothing. His boots clomped against the wood floor as he lumbered to the front door.
She giggled and swatted him on the chest. “That’s how we got into this position in the first place.”
“Not quite, but I’ll be happy to show you—”
Just then, her belly contracted and hardened. “Oh!” She fisted a handful of his shirt until the pain subsided.
Excitement and a heaping dash of fear replaced the raw passion in his eyes. “Was that—”
She nodded. Focused her efforts on breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. In, out. Just like their birthing coach at the hospital had instructed.
“All righty then. I’ll call my mom. Jayce! I need to get Jayce! Your overnight bag. You need your bag!” Fargo twirled her around in his arms, changing directions as fast as the words tumbled from his mouth.
“Fargo?” She pushed his name past the pain clenching her abdomen, the dizziness threatening to pull her under without warning.
“Yeah?” He stopped moving.
Thank heaven! “You can put me down now.” Please.
“Oh.” He blinked as if coming out of a daze and lowered her legs until the pads of her feet touched the warm porch floor. He kept one arm wrapped around her while the other connected the call to his mother. She barely heard their conversation as he guided her to the truck, opened the door and settled her inside. “Bag?”
“Inside,” she panted. “The door.”
“Okay. Be right back.” He pivoted and dashed back to
the porch.
Another pain blasted. Her belly constricted into a tight ball. Sweat beaded her lip.
Forget the hospital! She was having this baby at home. Right where she belonged.
Fargo jumped off the porch clutching her bag, the phone sandwiched between shoulder and ear. He disconnected and waved in the direction of the barn, his face a churning mixture of excitement and fear.
Her cowboy.
Oh, how she loved him! Her breath caught on another wave of labor pains. She waited for it to pass then eased out of the seat.
“Where are you going?” Confusion tangled his brow. He twisted to stare at her, his hand gripping the driver’s door.
“Back inside.” She caught a good breath. “I can’t think of a finer place to have this little one than our home. Call the paramedics.”
His eyes softened into giant puddles of gold and green. He slammed the truck door and scooped her back up in his arms. “I love you, Darby Kester.”
Her palm reached up to smooth his jaw. “I love you, too, Cowboy.” Her breaths puffed against his lips, loud and labored. “Now get me inside…before all the ranch guests…witness me…giving birth.”
“Shoot the deuce, woman! Why didn’t you tell me you were this close?” Hope and Charity swirled around his legs as he huffed back up the porch steps, the exertion from so much talking slowing him down.
Her man rarely spoke this much, and he chose now to open up?
She gritted her teeth, her fingernails digging into his skin, against another pain. No reason he shouldn’t share the entire experience. Most of it, anyway.
“Ow!” He stumbled down the hallway and practically tossed her on their bed. He fumbled the numbers on his phone. “What if the paramedics can’t get here in time?”
“It’ll be all right, Cowboy. So long…as you’re here…with me.” She grabbed a fistful of his sleeve and jerked his cute rump down on the side of the bed.