by Meg Maxwell
“I’m sure your dress is beautiful, Georgia, and that’s very nice of you,” Emma said, squeezing her cousin’s hand.
Jake glanced into the dining room to see if he knew anyone; Sarah Mack and her fiancé, Edmund Ford, were having lunch. “My birth mother and her fiancé are in the dining room,” he said, upping his chin at the table by the tall, narrow window. “I guess we’ll need to let them know.”
“Feels weird, right?” she whispered.
“Yeah. It does. But it still doesn’t feel wrong. Being engaged,” he added. He caught her staring at the ring on her left hand. Her mother’s ring. “In a way,” he said, “the ring is a reminder why we’re doing this.”
She reached up and touched her hand to his face. “Yes,” she whispered. “Exactly. I need to think of it that way instead of feeling like a big fat fibbing sneak.”
He put his arm around her and held her close, and she froze, realizing that when she’d touched his face and he’d hugged her, there was no acting involved. They weren’t putting on a show for the public. Those gestures had been natural.
Because you care about each other, she reminded herself.
“Ready or not,” Jake whispered as they left the kitchen and headed for the dining room.
With their hands joined, they walked over to Sarah Mack’s table. “You both know Emma from when she used to help out in the food truck, but she’s also my fiancée,” he said, holding up their hands, where her diamond twinkled.
Sarah gasped and Edmund stood, wrapping Emma in a hug.
As Emma chatted with Sarah and Edmund, who both looked so damned happy for the newly engaged couple, Jake wanted to sit them all down and tell them the truth. Now he really did know how Emma felt about lying to her father. He and Sarah Mack had a very special connection and he didn’t like lying. But the more he thought about whispering the truth, the more he realized he didn’t like the truth. He didn’t want to be Emma’s sham fiancé, even if he couldn’t be the real thing. And anyway, he was Emma’s fiancé, no matter how it came to be.
What the hell was happening to him?
Chapter Eight
When they arrived home, Emma disappeared into the kitchen, and Jake sensed she needed some time to herself. He was about to head out to the barn to check in with Hank when he noticed a light shining from the third-floor landing—from the doorway leading up to the attic. That was strange.
Jake went up and opened the door to the attic. All was quiet, but the lights were definitely on. He took the steep narrow staircase up and found his brother sitting in front of their dad’s trunks, looking through old sweaters. CJ was so lost in thought and memories he didn’t even hear Jake come up the stairs.
“I come up here when I need to figure something out,” Jake said.
CJ started and stood up. He looked uncomfortable. “I was just looking at Dad’s old stuff.”
Jake was afraid CJ would bolt. He looked at the trunk, trying to give his brother a little privacy. “Remember that green windbreaker,” he said, pointing at the old jacket their father used to wear everytime they went hiking.
“I’ll never forget that huge buck we saw right before it started raining and we all got soaked,” CJ said, smiling. “Except Dad, because he had the windbreaker and we both refused to bring waterproof jackets.”
Jake nodded, lost for a moment himself in the memory of himself and CJ soaked to the bone, hair plastered against their heads, their dad shaking his head but good-humored. “We could both be pretty stubborn.” He kneeled in front of the trunk. “Just clothes in this one.” His gaze caught on the heavy navy wool sweater his dad always wore to go riding. “I might take this sweater, if you don’t mind. Good for early mornings on the ranch.”
CJ nodded. “Go ahead. Maybe I’ll take the windbreaker.” He slid it on and zipped it, and Jake could see that his brother was remembering old times. Then he opened up another trunk, full of their father’s old navy memorabilia and the thrillers he loved to read. There was a black binder and CJ flipped through it. Copies of old documents—the deed to the ranch in Mill Valley. The title on the old red pickup. “Looks like some of your adoption papers are in here too.”
“Oh yeah?” Jake said, glancing over. He had most of the records in his own files, along with his birth certificate and social security card.
CJ flipped through the papers, clipped together at the top left. He stared at a page in the middle. “Whoa. There’s an index card attached to this copy of some paperwork regarding your adoption. ‘Fraternal twin adopted previous day by Asher family of Houston.’” CJ handed him the papers, looking astonished.
Jake froze and scanned the card, handwritten in black ink. “The information was right here the entire time,” he said. “Mom and Dad never told me about my twin—I assume because they figured it would be too much for me to handle and that if I wanted to find my birth family, I’d find out that information. But this card—I wonder if it was attached by mistake.”
“I guess you have what you need to find him,” CJ said. “You have a last name and a city.” He turned away and started putting back the books he’d taken out. “I’ve been a real jerk. And selfish. If you want to find your twin, you have my blessing, Jake.”
The discomfort on CJ’s face was something, though. Jake knew it had always been a sore subject, but there seemed something beyond just fear of losing Jake. He thought back to his almost-fiancée Samantha saying that she had to come first. Maybe that was how it was supposed to work; your fiancée, your wife, should come first above all others, but in this case, it still didn’t feel right. And even now, putting CJ first, thinking of his feelings, his heart, his psyche, meant more to Jake than seeking out his twin. CJ meant that much to him. That was just how it was.
“One day, maybe,” Jake said. “But right now, we’re working toward something pretty amazing here at the Full Circle, building this ranch to be what we couldn’t do in Mill Valley because of our jerk uncle. I think I’d like to focus on that.”
He felt CJ looking at him. Trying to read him? Looking for assurance that Jake was okay with what he was saying?
“But, CJ, when I do look for my twin, some day, I need you to know that nothing is ever going to change. You’ll always be my brother. I was there the day you were born.”
“You were there when your twin was born too,” CJ pointed out quietly.
The very notion sent chills up Jake’s spine. “Yeah. But I never saw him again. I was there the first time you crawled and walked and got those buck teeth Mom finally got fixed. I was there when you graduated from high school. I was there when you moved out here with me.”
CJ gave something of a nod, the most he could handle when Jake knew he was touched. “How’d things go with Emma’s dad?” he asked, deftly changing the subject as he opened another trunk—a collection of various hats, from Stetsons to baseball caps.
“A little too well. I think it really hurts Emma to have to go through this charade to save something that means so much to her. She wants her dad to care more about her than that.”
He nodded. “That’s kind of how Stella feels. About us, I mean she wants me to care more about her, about our relationship, than whatever is scaring the hell out of me about committing. She thinks it might be that I don’t really love her.”
“Do you?”
CJ turned away and unzipped the windbreaker. He pulled out his phone to check the time. “I promised Stella I’d call her at six thirty. See you later.” He headed back down the stairs.
The fact that he was unwilling to answer the question—and face whatever the answer was—was pretty telling.
Jake pulled out the papers with the index card. Asher family of Houston. He had something finally, something that felt small and huge at the same time. His twin had gone from being so intangible to having a last name and a city.
You have my blessing to find him.
Jake appreciated that. Especially because it was plain as day that CJ didn’t mean it. The guy seemed to be hanging by a thread emotionally and right now, Jake was going to be an older brother and let him deal with his relationship issues before Jake would use the info on the index card.
Hell, maybe Jake liked the excuse. A reason to hold off, to put it off, despite wanting to meet the guy, to see him, to know him. What was he like? What did he look like? Who was he?
Maybe a piece of Jake was a little uncertain about that last part. Who his twin was. Who his family was. What he was like. Sometimes when you went looking for something, you didn’t always like what you found.
But even when those kinds of questions hit him, when unease would trail up his neck, a bigger part of him knew—just knew—that his twin was a good guy, that something inside Jake would finally both crack open and heal when he met the man.
But right now, for both Jake and his faux fiancée, it seemed patience was the name of the game.
* * *
At five the next morning, the whole crew was in the dining room for breakfast, everyone so busy eating and trying to wake up at the same time that there wasn’t much talking.
Well, everyone except for Grizzle, who was neither eating nor talking—and looked almost too wide-awake. And, if Emma wasn’t mistaken, a bit...shell-shocked.
“Grizzle, you’d better put something on your plate before it’s all gone,” Jake said. “These pancakes are amazing,” he added, smiling at Emma. “And at least grab some bacon before Hank finishes off the platter.”
Hank paused mid-reach for the bacon. “What? I’ve only had six pieces. A serving is nine, right?”
Emma laughed. “I’ll make much more tomorrow, for sure.”
“Can’t eat,” Grizzle said, pushing around some home fries on his plate with his fork. “Michelle says I have to get all gussied up to meet her kids and their kids this weekend. Suit and tie—the works. Well, I ain’t doing it.”
Emma recalled what Grizzle had said about the last time he wore a suit—for his wife’s funeral. Her heart went out to him.
Jake took a sip of his coffee. “We all have to put on a suit at some point. It’s just a few hours to make a good impression, right?”
“You know what I’ve decided?” Grizzle said, getting up. “I’m done with trying to be something I’m not. You think the sheep care if my hair is combed or if I’m wearing some dumb tie that’s cutting off my circulation? No. So if Michelle won’t take me as I am, wild hair and jeans, too bad.”
Golden looked up. “But, Grizzle, sometimes you have to make sacrifices for other people. I mean, if you want them to be part of your life.”
All eyes swung to Golden.
Grizzle frowned. “Well, Michelle can sacrifice needing me to look presentable. How’s that!” He pushed in his chair and stalked out.
Emma thought about going after him, but he seemed angry in a way that told her he needed to calm down a bit first. She’d give him some time and then go see if he wanted to talk. She hated the thought of Grizzle all torn up.
“You know what?” Hank said, putting down his fork. “I’m with the Griz-man. Why do we have to change? Why can’t the women change for us? Accept us just as we are.”
“Because as you are isn’t up to snuff,” CJ said. “Big duh there.”
“You’re one to talk.” Hank shot back.
CJ poked at his pancakes. “I know. I want Stella but I don’t want to commit. I want her to commit to me but I don’t want to commit to her. That’s not right.”
“You’re figuring it out,” Emma said to CJ. “Sometimes what you really want isn’t always apparent right away.”
“But why is it so much damned work?” Hank said, grabbing four pieces of bacon since Grizzle had left. “Isn’t love supposed to be easy? You feel it and that’s it.”
Jake drank his coffee and set the mug down with a sigh. “Love is easy. But relationships are work. You can’t have everything your way. And when you care about someone, you want to make them happy.”
Hank seemed to think about that for a second, then frowned. “But you can’t just let yourself get trampled, either. I can barely talk around Fern. Everything I say is wrong! Grizzle has to wear a suit when it reminds him of the worst day of his life. CJ has to commit or lose the gal he loves. Golden has to actually ask his crush out if he wants to date her. I’ll tell ya,” he added, stabbing a pancake from the platter to his plate, “only Jake has the right idea. Fake all the way. He and Emma are just pretending to be engaged. So nothing matters. Doesn’t matter what they say and do. It’s not going to work out in the end cuz it’s not supposed to.”
Everyone was quiet for a minute.
“I still have to act the part,” Jake pointed out. “If what Emma and I are doing doesn’t mean anything, then I can’t fake it too well. And I need to. So saying our relationship is fake is bull too. It does matter. All of it. Because saving Emma’s family farm is everything to her.”
Hank sank a bit in his seat. CJ was staring at Jake. Golden was nodding sagely. And Emma was sliding glances at Jake, trying to understand what he was saying. What he’d said.
He couldn’t feel good about this fake engagement—apart from the why they were doing it. Jake had proposed to someone for real once, with love and forever in his heart, and his former fiancée hadn’t been willing to wait for him, to live on his terms for the time being. This couldn’t be easy for Jake.
Jake turned to Emma. “Maybe you can work your magic on Grizzle again.” The subject change back to Grizzle told Emma that Jake had realized he’d been a bit too revealing. “We’ve got a hard morning planned, but before lunch, maybe you could talk to him about Michelle? He seems so upset about it.”
She was about to say of course she would, but then remembered the very exciting appointment she had at noon. With all that had been going on, she’d almost forgotten until her cell phone calendar had reminded her with a ping this morning. Sometimes Emma loved technology. “I’ll talk to him, for sure, but I can’t before lunch. I have an appointment with my ob-gyn for the sixteen-week ultrasound. I’ll get to listen to the baby’s heartbeat.”
Her baby’s heartbeat. She put her hands on her belly and smiled.
“You’re going, right, Jake?” Hank asked, slurping his coffee.
“Wait, what?” Jake looked at Emma, who was grimacing.
“Of course you don’t need to go,” Emma said to Jake. “I’m going alone.”
Hank poured maple syrup on his last pancake. “Jake is your fiancé, Emma. How will it look if he’s not there? What if your father hears you went alone to your baby’s appointment?”
Emma sat up very straight. “I’ll be raising my baby alone and I’ll be going to my appointment alone. That’s all there is to it.”
“I don’t know, Emma,” CJ said, slathering cream cheese on a bagel half. “If your father hears you went alone, he’ll wonder why your fiancé, your baby’s new father, didn’t go with you. If you’re going to pull off this fake fiancé thing, you really need to do it all the way.”
Baby’s new father. The words echoed in Emma’s head until she felt dizzy.
“Emma?” Jake asked, leaning closer. “Are you all right?”
She closed her eyes and opened them, then took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m fine. I just didn’t expect the conversation to take this turn.” She felt Jake studying her.
“Well, CJ is right. I’m going with you,” Jake said.
She glanced at him. “Jake, honestly—” She had to go alone. She had to “start as she meant to go on,” as the saying went. So why did a part of her like the idea of Jake coming? Jake beside her. Someone to share in seeing the images on the monitor, hearing the heartbeat, being excited with her. And not just someone. This man. Jake
Morrow.
But Jake wasn’t her baby’s father. He wasn’t even her real fiancé. He was her boss and he was being chivalrous and kind and wonderful because—
Because why?
Because that’s who Jake Morrow is, she reminded herself for the second time that day. He was a “code of the West,” kind of man. Someone who would sacrifice what he wanted for others. As he seemed to be doing with CJ by putting the search for his twin on the back burner. Emma wasn’t sure that was right, though. Yes, CJ’s feelings mattered. But Jake did have a biological twin brother out there in the world. And trying to pretend the whole thing didn’t exist was actually pushing the two brothers farther apart, not bringing them together. Surely Jake knew that, too.
Jake sipped his coffee. “I’d like to go to the appointment with you, Emma. As your fiancé.”
“As my fiancé,” she repeated, the words ringing hollow.
It was a good reminder that Jake was just “doing the right thing” all around.
As the cowboys got up from the table, Emma rushed to clear their plates and the platters, needing some air. She was falling in love with a man who was giving up so much for her—except where his own heart was concerned.
If only his heart was actually involved.
Emma stacked plates along her arm, a headache forming. She thought she wasn’t interested in a real marriage anyway. Suddenly she wanted Jake to be in love with her?
Hank had it wrong. Love wasn’t easy at all.
* * *
Sitting across from Emma and Jake in Dr. Morgan’s waiting room was a teenage girl playing a game on her cell phone. The girl had come in with her very pregnant sister and was waiting for her sister’s appointment to be over. But Jake couldn’t stop staring at the girl—and seeing his birth mother. Sarah Mack had been just sixteen when she’d given birth to twins. She’d been sent away to a home for pregnant teenagers and, yes, Sarah did tell Jake that she’d made a few very good friends with some other girls in her situation during that time, but for the most part, Sarah had been alone. Her babies’ father—Jake’s biological father—had told Sarah he couldn’t be the father and had shunned her.