There was something in her voice, a hint of defiance that he suspected was a deliberate cover of a deeper pain.
“You didn’t grow up wanting to be a cowgirl?”
“No,” she said. “Not since I was twelve, anyway.”
“What happened when you were twelve?”
She was quiet for a moment. “My mom died.”
He winced. “I’m sorry, Katelyn.”
She just nodded and continued walking. After a few minutes, she stopped beneath a Jeffrey pine, her gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. “My mom loved everything about the ranch,” she told him. “And she worked as hard as any of the hands. But sometimes, early in the mornings, she would saddle up her favorite horse and just ride. And sometimes she’d let me go with her. I loved those early morning rides when it was just the two of us.”
Reid could see where the story was going now and regretted that he’d asked.
“We were out by the eastern border near the creek that morning. I saw something moving on the ground, but before I could say anything, Honey spotted it, too, and instinctively reared up. My mom was a good rider—skilled and experienced—but she’d been pointing to something in the distance and was unprepared for the abrupt movement.
“She was thrown off the back of the horse,” she continued, her voice flat now and all the more heartbreaking for the lack of emotion in it. “And broke her neck when she fell.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Kate admitted. “She probably had a cell phone, but I didn’t think about that at the time. Instead, I raced back to the house, to get help. My dad called 911, then he went after her. By the time he got to her, it was too late.”
“I’m so sorry,” Reid said.
“I didn’t ride for a long time after that,” she confided, as they made their way back to the paddock. “I hated Honey, I hated all the horses and the chores and everything about the ranch.
“I don’t hate it anymore, but I don’t think I’ll ever love it the way I used to.”
“Losing someone you love has a way of changing things,” he acknowledged, reflecting briefly on his abandonment by his mother, his grandmother’s death, and then the loss of Hank, too. Each of those events had played a part in making him the man that he was today—and his determination to be a father to the baby Katelyn was carrying.
“I miss her every single day, but now...now that I’m going to be a mother myself, the wound is somehow fresher and deeper again,” she told him.
“I didn’t tell anyone, when I first suspected that I might be pregnant, but I would have told her. I’m not saying she would have been overjoyed to hear that her unmarried daughter was having a stranger’s baby, but she would have listened without judging...and she would have loved our baby.”
He slid an arm across her shoulders and drew her to his side, a silent gesture of support. She let her head fall against his shoulder, for just a minute before she said, “Is this a PDA?”
“Nope—there’s no one else around, so it’s strictly a DA.”
She laughed softly. “You know, under other circumstances, I could really like you, Sheriff.”
“Why can’t you like me under current circumstances?”
“Because current circumstances are complicated.”
“Life is complicated.”
“And although we’re having a simple meal tonight, I should see if Martina and Grams need a hand in the kitchen.”
“Very smooth segue, counselor.”
She responded with a sassy smile. “Do you want to come back to the house with me?”
“I’ll hang out here for a while,” he decided.
Ten minutes later, when he was flanked by her brothers and cousins, he was wishing he’d opted to return to the house with Katelyn.
“Are you on duty or off?” Caleb asked, offering a beer to him.
“Off,” he said, nodding his thanks as he accepted the bottle.
“I have to make a trip into town later and I wouldn’t want to run afoul of the law,” Liam said, explaining the soda can in his hand.
“Heather again?” One of the cousins—Mitchell—asked.
Liam grinned. “Yep.”
“This is going on what—three weeks now?” the other cousin—Michael—asked. “That’s a long-term relationship for you.”
“As much as I enjoy roasting my brother,” Caleb interjected. “We’re getting sidetracked from the real issue here.”
And they all turned, as if on cue, to look at Reid.
He tipped the bottle to his lips, sipped. “Am I an issue?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Caleb told him.
“Katie doesn’t usually bring a date to family events,” Liam commented.
“Katie doesn’t ever bring a date to family events,” Mitchell clarified.
“Then I’m doubly honored to have been invited,” Reid said.
“Of course, as a defense attorney, she’d understand the importance of establishing a positive relationship with local law enforcement,” Liam noted.
“Which might be why she included you,” Caleb suggested.
“I know better than to question a woman’s motives,” Reid told them.
“We want to know if the two of you are dating,” Michael said, cutting to the chase.
“I’m enjoying spending time with her,” he said, since he wasn’t sure that one date actually qualified as dating.
“You can’t have spent much time with her yet,” Liam said. “You’ve only been in town a few weeks.”
“Actually, I knew Katelyn before I moved to Haven.”
The brothers and cousins exchanged a look, clearly not pleased by this revelation.
“From where and for how long?” Caleb asked.
“From ‘none of your business’ and as long as ‘none of your business,’” Katelyn responded from behind them.
The five men turned to face her.
“You’re our sister,” Liam reminded her.
“And our cousin,” Mitchell piped in.
“That makes it our business,” Caleb finished.
“While I acknowledge and appreciate that the name carries a certain weight and status in this town, being born a Gilmore doesn’t automatically imply the forfeiture of any expectation of privacy.”
Michael slanted a look at Caleb. “Now you’ve done it.”
“When she’s really annoyed, she starts with the lawyer-speak,” Liam explained to Reid. “And since I’ve got horses to feed before dinner, I’m going to go do that before she really gets on a roll.”
“We’ll help you,” Michael said.
They all moved away from the paddock together.
Kate folded her arms and leaned them on the rail, her gaze fixed on the foal that was prancing on spindly legs beside its mother.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I knew my family would have questions when we showed up together, but I thought they’d exercise some discretion.”
“They’re just looking out for you,” he noted.
“Maybe,” she allowed. “Although sometimes I think they harass people just for sport.”
“They did seem to have a good rhythm going with their interrogation, as if they’d had a lot of practice.”
“No doubt they have,” she agreed, then hastened to clarify. “Interrogating Skylar’s numerous boyfriends in high school, I mean.”
“What about your boyfriends?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t date in high school.”
“Not much or not at all?”
“Not at all,” she admitted. “I was more interested in studying than boys.”
“So when did you have your first boyfriend?” he asked.
“My first year of college, but even he didn’t get an invitation home to meet my family.”
“Who was the first guy who did?”
“I, uh...actually, I can’t remember.”
His gaze narrowed. “You remember—you just don’t want to tell me.”
“It’s really not important,” she told him.
“Your refusal to share the name suggests otherwise.”
She sighed. “If I tell you, you’re going to wish you’d let this go,” she warned.
“Maybe,” he acknowledged. “But I still want to know.”
“You,” she said.
He waited for her to finish her thought, but that single word was all she said.
“What about me?” he prompted.
“You, Sheriff Reid Davidson, recent transplant from Echo Ridge, Texas, are the first man I’ve ever brought home to meet my family.”
She had to be joking. There was no way he was the first. Except that the flags of color high on her cheeks gave credence to her claim.
“How old are you?” he blurted out.
She laughed. “Twenty-eight.” Then, after a tiny hesitation, she added, “Today.”
And the surprises kept coming. “It’s your birthday today?”
She nodded.
“Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks.”
His mind was still reeling over the first revelation—that she’d never introduced a man to her family. She must have had boyfriends—because she wasn’t a virgin when they were together. But he was beginning to realize he’d misjudged her experience. “So what happened between us in Boulder City...”
“My first ever one-night stand,” she admitted.
“And not technically a one-night stand.”
She nodded.
“I turned thirty-four in March,” he told her.
“Happy belated birthday?”
He managed a smile. “I just wanted you to know that there’s a six-year age gap between us.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Are you kidding? Guys always want to be with hot young chicks.”
She laughed. “Is that what I am—a hot young chick?”
“Very hot—and younger than I realized,” he admitted.
“But we’re not really together,” she reminded him.
“Are you sure? Because I’d guess your family is thinking that we’re not only together but that our relationship is pretty serious, since I’m the first guy you’ve ever brought home to meet them.”
“You know why I wanted them to meet you.”
“So it doesn’t come as a shock when you tell them we’re getting married?” he asked hopefully.
Chapter Eleven
Kate shook her head, exasperated by his unwillingness to give up on the idea—and increasingly tempted to take what he was offering. But for the moment, she held firm. “We’re not getting married.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the weekend we spent together in Boulder City,” he told her.
“I’m flattered,” she said. “But that’s no reason to start planning a wedding.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “But what about a baby? Do you think having a baby is a good reason?”
“I’d say it depends on the preexisting relationship between the expectant parents,” she said. “If there was no preexisting relationship, then I’d have to say no—a baby is not a good reason to get married.”
“What if those two people, despite having no preexisting relationship, somehow just click whenever they’re together?”
“I’m not sure ‘click’ is either a valid or relevant factor,” she said dubiously.
“It’s both,” he insisted.
“Sometimes an attraction just confuses the issue,” she pointed out.
“I’ll admit to being confused about a lot of things, but wanting to marry you isn’t one of them.”
And when he said it like that, with unwavering conviction, she almost believed it was true. But she knew he didn’t really want to marry her, he just wanted to do the right thing. And she definitely didn’t want to have the same arguments with him again.
“We should get back,” she said instead. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
* * *
It was almost dark by the time they’d said their goodbyes to everyone and drove away from the ranch. Though Reid knew her family still had a lot of questions about his relationship with Katelyn, he considered the afternoon a success. Of course, everything would likely change when they found out she was pregnant, so he was grateful she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to share that news.
“Your family sure knows how to put on a barbecue,” he commented, fondly recalling the platters of ribs and burgers and sausages, heaping bowls of potato salad, coleslaw and macaroni and cheese, the enormous pot filled with homemade baked beans and baskets with thick slices of corn bread. It had seemed like a mountain of food, but the mountain was soon conquered by the Gilmores and their guests.
“My family doesn’t believe in doing anything by half measures,” she told him.
“I enjoyed meeting them,” he said as he turned onto the highway to head back into town. “Thank you for inviting me today.”
“I’m glad you survived,” she said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I know they can be a little...overwhelming at times.”
A little overwhelming was something of an understatement. On the other hand, he’d enjoyed watching Katelyn with her relatives—the teasing and shorthand communications that develop through close relationships. The way one person would start a story only to have someone else pick up the narrative of the shared experience without missing a beat.
“You were lucky to grow up in such a close family.”
“I know,” she acknowledged. “Even if I didn’t always think so at the time.”
He’d been on his own for so long, he’d forgotten what it meant to be connected to someone else. Being with Katelyn’s family today had given him a glimpse, and he was glad their baby was going to be part of that family.
“I realized something else today,” she told him.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“That you don’t talk about your family.”
“There’s not much to talk about,” he said. “For a long time, it was just me and my grandmother. Then I spent some time in foster care, living with other people’s families, until Hank took me in.”
“Who’s Hank?”
“Hank Mahoney was the Sheriff of Echo Ridge when I was growing up there.”
“He’s the reason you went into law enforcement?” she guessed. “To follow in the footsteps of a man you admired?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Although it was a little more complicated than that.”
“It’s a long drive back to town,” she reminded him.
She was right, and even if there were parts of his history that he wasn’t proud of, she deserved to know his background.
“I first met Hank when I was seventeen,” he told her. “Young and dumb enough to attempt to hot-wire the sheriff’s truck.”
Her brows lifted. “You can really do that? I thought that was just something that happened in the movies.”
“I can really do it, but I’m not very good at it—which is why Hank caught me in the act. I’d just been bumped from yet another foster home and, thankfully, he recognized that I was acting out of anger and frustration more than I was looking for trouble, and he gave me a chance.”
“Like you did with Aiden, once you knew the whole story.”
He kept his gaze focused on the road. “What makes you think I did anything?”
“Haven’t you learned yet that it’s next to impossible to keep a secret in Haven?” she chided. “When I went to see the ADA about the charges against Aiden, he said Rebecca Blake had already called to tell him that, after consultation with the new sheriff, she su
pported Aiden’s application for the youth diversion program.”
“Not a lot of people know about the program,” he said, as if that was his only reason for reaching out to Mrs. Blake. “And Aiden’s a good candidate, with a father determined to keep him on the straight and narrow.”
“How old were you when you lost your parents?” she asked gently.
“I didn’t lose them—they lost me,” he told her. “My dad was a drunk who took off before I was born. Apparently he came back again, around my first birthday, but didn’t hang around for more than a few months. My mom stuck it out for a few more years, hooking up with the occasional boyfriend who made my dad look like a catch. Then when I was about six, she decided that taking care of a kid was too much responsibility and dumped me at her mother’s house.
“I don’t know what excuse or explanation she offered, but my grandmother took me in and, for the next eight years, she raised me. Then she died, and I had no one.
“I bounced around in foster care for a while, because teen boys don’t tend to settle easily into traditional families, and I spent some time in a group home, where I started to run with a bad crowd and made some poor choices.”
“Like hot-wiring the sheriff’s truck.”
He nodded. “I know it sounds melodramatic, but I really believe he saved my life that day.”
“Did Hank have any kids of his own?”
“A daughter, Patricia. She was a year ahead of me in school—the cheerleader who dated the quarterback.” He lifted a hand to rub the slight bump on the bridge of his nose. “One night when I was leaving school late, I saw them together. They were in the middle of a pretty heavy makeout session and I wanted to look away, but something about the situation set off warning bells in my head.
“Long story short—she was saying no, he wasn’t listening, so I intervened. He punched me in the face, broke my nose, Trish helped me mop up the blood and drove me home.”
There was something different in his voice when he said her name, an unexpected warmth that made Kate wish she’d never asked.
She definitely shouldn’t ask the next question that sprang to mind, but there was a time delay between her brain and her mouth and the words spilled out before she could stop them. “You fell in love with her?”
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