“Donate?” she whispered.
“Everything. You could start your rodeo off with an exciting event that wouldn’t cost you a cent.”
She hesitated.
He leaned close. “Have you ever seen a polo match?”
She shook her head.
“It’s fast-paced and gripping. Fans love it. It gets the crowd excited.” He sweetened the deal. “You could do something fun like pit my polo-playing friends against local cowboys or rodeo riders. Put the cowboys on polo ponies and watch the sparks fly. East versus West. Urban versus rural. Let’s see if they can keep their seats in polo saddles. Everyone loves a competition.”
Max’s eyes lit up, as though already envisioning the match. She punched Sam’s shoulder. “We’ll talk.”
Sam rubbed his shoulder. The woman was tough.
She stepped away to the diner doorway before spinning back to address Sam with a stern finger pointed toward his chest.
“You hurt Violet and there won’t be a spot on this earth where you’ll be able to hide from me.” She entered the diner.
“Whew! She’s intense.”
“Don’t be hard on her, Sam. Her life has been difficult. She loves hard. She’s a mother hen who protects those she loves.”
“More like a banty rooster.” Sam appraised Violet. “You don’t look offended.”
“I’m not. I’m happy. I live in a town I love. I have friends who support me without boundaries. I love a great guy. And I’m finally free to be me.”
“And who is that?”
“The woman I’ve pretended to be all along is the woman I have a right to be. I’ve earned everything I have, including this town’s respect. I finally understand how much I deserve in this life.”
“You deserve it all, Violet, and more.”
They walked upstairs and entered her apartment. “I like this place,” Sam said. “It’s homey.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to keep the baby here, though. There’s hardly enough room.”
“We are going to get a house. How does that sound?” Sam turned her toward him. “You’re no longer alone, Violet. I understand your need for independence and I honor it, but you don’t have to make every decision on your own anymore.”
“A house would be wonderful.”
“I wonder...” Sam hated to dream but nothing ventured, nothing gained. “I wonder if we could live in Gramps’s house on the fairgrounds. Or is that too unconventional?”
“I love it! Sam, look at me. Do I look conventional to you? It would be amazing to raise a child there.”
A grin split Sam’s face. “It would, wouldn’t it?”
Violet took his hand and led him to her bedroom, kissing him before he had a chance to check it out.
“I love you, Violet. Now and for always.”
“I love you, too, Sam.”
They made love with sunlight streaming across the bed and warming Sam’s back.
Afterward, her head resting on Sam’s shoulder, Violet murmured, “You do realize the whole town knows what we’re doing up here, right? By now every phone call has been answered and every text read. They all know that Violet Summer succumbed to the big-city boy’s charms and is going to marry him.”
The thought filled Sam with good will and he laughed. “I’ll bet it’s good for business. Most of the town is downstairs right now, guaranteed. How much do you want to bet Will’s swamped?”
Violet shook her head. “Nah. Honey’s waitressing. Max is probably pouring coffee. Nadine’s cutting up pies and serving them.”
“How do you know?”
“They’re my friends.”
Sam loved the simplicity of that statement and the way it made Violet sound so content. She’d been through a lot, but being a strong woman, she had thrived.
She would thrive even more because Sam planned to shower her with love for the rest of their lives.
Chapter Thirteen
Sam held Violet for too long, afraid to let her go. After finally coming to his senses and realizing how much he loved this woman, he feared the dream would go up in smoke if he opened his eyes. Or let go of her.
“It’s okay, Sam. I’m not going anywhere.”
“How did you know I was worried?”
“You’re holding me pretty tightly.” Laughter rang in her voice.
He eased his grip a bit. “I’m not going anywhere, either.”
“This is nothing like New York City.”
“I know. I think that’s why I like it. I like the town. I like the people. I like and love you.”
“You’re absolutely certain? Because I will never want to live in the big city.”
“I’m positive. I’ll want to visit my family. I would like to take you to meet them and to show you my favorite spots in New York. It’s an amazing city. But I want to live here. Chelsea wants to live here, too. Don’t ask me why. She never complained about New York.”
“Good.”
“Now that that’s settled, I want to talk about the revival of the fair.”
Sam sensed her pulling away emotionally.
“Why?”
“I have some ideas.”
“Why? Don’t start taking over. The big-city guy teaching the small-town girls how to run a business properly.”
That wasn’t what was happening.
“For God’s sake, don’t start mansplaining things to us. We know this country. We know what people here like.”
“I know. But hear me out. What did you think of the polo match? Could it fly here?”
“Oh! You’re asking my opinion.”
“Yes. As you said, you know these people. Would it fly?”
“So you were serious. I don’t know. Why on earth would anyone here want to watch that?”
“Do you know what I’ve noticed since I got here?”
“No. What?”
“There’s a huge amount of emotion invested in the country-versus-city mentality. How do you think I learned how to ride? By playing amateur polo.”
“Sam, I’m still not seeing it.”
“Okay, so as I told Max, I persuade all of my polo buddies, who, by the way, have big money, to donate their time, horses and money to the fair. They come out here and bring all of our horses. We have a match against cowboys on their horses.”
“Can you actually do that?”
“I have no idea, but it’s at least worth looking into.”
“I’m not sure cowboys would want to do it.”
“I saw a rodeo once. Those guys are insanely competitive. Polo playing is a brutally demanding sport, hard on both players and horses. By the time your cowboys are finished, they’ll have a new respect for polo players.”
Sam started to get excited. “Then we also have the polo players compete in rodeo events like barrel racing and cattle roping. By the time they’re through, they’ll have respect for the work that cowboys and ranchers do. What do you think?”
“I think it has a lot of merit. I’ll present it to the girls the next time we get together. Or maybe Max already has. They’re probably all downstairs discussing it right now.”
“Probably. I’ll talk to my friends to drum up interest. I’ll have takers for sure. These guys might be businessmen, but where polo is concerned, they’re tough and competitive. They would consider this a challenge.”
“Speaking of challenges, you do understand that you and I are in for a few of them in our life together?”
Sam rested his forehead on Violet’s. “I’m up for it. I’ve never felt as happy or fulfilled as I have with you, even when we were fighting.”
Violet laughed. “There will most certainly be fighting over the years.”
“We can survive any disagreements a
s long as we come together in love afterward.”
“I think I can handle that.”
Sam grinned. “I’m going to enjoy make-up sex with you.”
“Let’s start now.”
“But we haven’t argued.”
“We don’t need to. All of our sex is going to be great sex. I can feel it in my bones.”
Sam ran a hand over her softly rounded hip. “I love you, Violet.”
“And I love you, Mr. Pretend Cowboy. Let’s celebrate our happiness.”
An hour later, they showered, dressed and went down to the diner.
They peeked in through the window. The place was packed, with everyone there, as though they’d been waiting for the happy couple to show up.
What if they’d decided to stay in bed for the rest of the evening and all night? Would the town have stayed here, too?
Then again, they would know that Sam wouldn’t abandon his daughter.
Chelsea sat at the counter. Will stood across from her. They played cards. Were those coins in front of them? Was Will teaching his daughter how to gamble?
Sam stalked toward the door.
When he and Violet stepped into the diner, everyone cheered as though they’d done something stupendous.
Jeez. They’d only been doing what every adult in this room was capable of doing.
Sam’s cheeks reddened. He didn’t consider himself the blushing type, but this town was making his sex life public, for Pete’s sake.
Tori ran over and tugged on Violet’s skirt.
She bent forward. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“Chels is going to live here.” Tori let out a tiny squeal.
“I know. I’m happy, too. Chelsea is going to become my friend.”
“She’s already my friend. Now she’s gonna be my big sister. We pinkie sweared.” She held up her tiny pinkie finger.
Violet kissed her forehead and sent her back to her table.
Violet directed her attention to the room and spoke up. “I’m only going to say this once because I don’t want any gossip about it. I don’t want to be pestered about it. I don’t want any sly glances or speculation. I’m pregnant. Okay? End of story.”
After a brief silence, Lester Voile said, “We already know that, Vy. Congratulations.” He got out of his booth and approached, pulling a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket.
“I got this recipe I want you to try. I got it off the Food Network. I think I wrote it all down right.”
Sam felt Violet shake beneath his arm. He looked down at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks while she laughed. Soon her laughter burst out of her in great, full guffaws.
Sam joined her. So did the rest of the room.
He’d never seen Violet so happy.
Sam’s anticipated task? To make that joy last a lifetime.
* * *
ON CHRISTMAS DAY, Sam sat on the sofa in Gramps’s house beside Chelsea and watched Violet carry their son, only two weeks old, to Gramps. The older man sat in his armchair.
Gramps was having a good day, and thank God for that. He was about to meet his great-grandson.
For the first time in Sam’s life he would celebrate Christmas in his grandfather’s house, and it felt right and good.
Sam, Violet, Chelsea and Gramps all lived here now and Sam couldn’t be happier.
Yes, at some point in the future, Gramps would have to go back to the home, but not today. Not yet...
Settled into the chair that had been shaped by decades of him sitting there, Gramps held still while Violet nestled their son into his hands in his lap.
Sam and Violet, with great elation in their hearts, decided to call their son Elijah, after Violet’s father, who had died too early in her life.
Sam couldn’t think of a better way to honor a man his wife had loved so deeply.
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” Gramps asked. “Looks like a spunky little guy to me.”
“He’s a baby, Gramps,” Chelsea said. “He doesn’t have much personality yet.”
“Get over here, missy, and get to know your baby brother.”
Chelsea laughed and sat on the arm of Gramps’s favorite chair. She cooed at the baby and, in big-sister fashion, made sure her great-grandfather’s grip on Elijah stayed secure.
Freed by Chelsea’s care, Violet came over to sit beside Sam and curl against his body, her generous warmth and irrepressible personality still a revelation to him daily.
She smiled at him, her violet eyes bright with happiness. He wrapped his arm around her.
“Happy?” she asked.
“I’ve never been more content in my life.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “I’ve never felt more right. And you?”
“I’m the same. I’m so glad you came to town pretending to be something you weren’t.”
“And I’m glad you gave me such a hard time about it. I fell in love with you that first day, even as you frustrated the hell out of me. You were a real hard-ass.”
“Get used to it,” she said, laughing and flashing her wedding band at him. “I’ll probably frustrate you many more times before our lives are through.”
Just before he kissed her, Sam murmured, “I’m looking forward to it.”
He thought back to his arrival here in Rodeo and his deep sense of loss that his heritage had been about to slip through his fingers. The past months had been special.
He’d grown to love the town.
He’d become well acquainted with his heritage.
They’d hung Violet’s ultrasound in the diner.
Over the following months, everyone who had entered and had studied it had declared the tiny fetus sound and healthy looking.
Lester Voile had predicted the boy would make a great chef someday, and Lester would share his recipes
with him.
They’d all been right. Elijah was a healthy, contented baby.
An anticipated knock on the door had Chelsea casting a glance at Sam to help her out.
He went to the armchair to take Elijah from Gramps, who tired easily.
Chelsea ran to the front door to welcome the Reads.
Tori squealed and Rachel said, “Where’s this baby boy I’ve heard so much about?”
They entered the living room of the heritage house, bringing the cold bite of winter with them, quickly vanquished by the heat from the blazing fire in the hearth.
Tori held a bottle of silver nail polish, Rachel held rosy, smiling Beth and Travis held, well, everything else.
Sam passed Elijah to Violet, and unburdened Travis of diaper bags and carriers and grocery bags that sounded like they held jars of food. In that moment, Sam saw a flash of his future, carting the paraphernalia of babyhood around for a few years to come.
Violet was adamant that they would have more than one child together. Being an only child, she wanted a big family.
Sam approved, knowing that it meant years more of parenthood in a town that had given him so much, including that very fatherhood he hadn’t known he’d been dying to return to again. And he would be doing it in a town he’d grown to love with people about whom he cared deeply.
Tori barely acknowledged the baby. She and Chelsea ran upstairs to paint their nails.
“Tori and I want the wishbone. Save it for us. It’s ours.”
“Hey, watch the entitled ’tude, kid,” Violet called.
Chelsea called back down the stairs, “I love you, too, Vy.”
If Sam could have bottled the look of pleasure on his wife’s face, he could sell it and make a fortune.
Rachel had traded Beth for Elijah and made a huge fuss over him.
Sam got himself and Travis a couple of beers.
Later, while everyone gathered
in the kitchen to carve turkey and put out hot casserole dishes, Sam held his son.
When they sat down to dinner, he still cradled him in one arm.
“I can put him in his crib, Sam.”
“I’m good, Violet.” Sam kissed his son’s forehead, immersing himself in the soft baby-powder scent of him.
Gramps sat at the head of the table and gave thanks for their meal, for family and friendships and for Elijah.
At the other end of the table, Sam stared down at the bundle of perfection in his arms and gave his own thanks for Violet, who confounded and completed him and who made life interesting.
While he ate one-handed with the baby tucked into his other arm, he thanked the universe for the son he’d been given.
Elijah Carson Summer Carmichael was a joy and a blessing...and a son of Rodeo, Montana.
* * * * *
If you liked this story, check out the earlier books in Mary Sullivan’s RODEO, MONTANA miniseries,
RODEO FATHER
and
RODEO RANCHER.
And watch for more books coming later in 2017 and 2018 from Harlequin Western Romance!
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE COWBOY’S TWIN SURPRISE by Cathy McDavid.
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Rodeo Baby Page 19