“Everyone’s got a talent. Pissing off friends and family is mine,” Bodhi said. “But hey, if this rodeo thing doesn’t work out, consider cage fighting, Beck.” He sauntered toward the barn door, a hitch in his normally fluid stride, and guilt flooded Beck.
“You good?” Bowen called after him.
Bodhi whistled a Rascal Flatts tune and pushed the barn doors wide open to make it easier to load their horses.
“How ’bout you?” Bowen demanded.
No.
But determination flooded him. Ash was his world. They were having a baby. He was a Marietta ranch cowboy to his bones no matter what his birth certificate said.
“I’ll get there.” He stomped down the urge to share the news about the baby. It was something they should share with their families together, and he had no inclination to let his unborn child become part of Bodhi and Bowen’s dumb Rodeo Bride Game. He wasn’t playing. His proposal to Ash would be private. His commitment would have no strings. Nothing on the line but his love for her and their life together.
The ranch might be gone forever for him, but he’d have his wife and child and that was everything. Ash and their baby were his future.
*
Ashni sat cross-legged on one of the desks and stared at her phone. Reeva had texted to ask how she was. She’d been posting pictures of her honeymoon regularly on her Instagram account, and Ashni had dutifully thumbs-upped and commented, but what to do with this latest text. She’d told Reeva everything. All her secrets. All her feelings about Beck. All her hopes and dreams.
But not that she’d been unhappy this year.
Even as Reeva had found John, Ashni had been losing herself and Beck.
But she couldn’t not respond so she thumbed through her photos and shared a few of the mural and the kids, whose parents had signed photo releases so she could post on Harry’s House’s website.
But she didn’t tell her about the baby.
Or that she and Beck had broken up.
She felt so alone and isolated. And she still had a few hours until class started.
“Hey, girl.” Sky breezed in. “I’m on my way to teach at the college, but I wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. And I brought the elixir of the gods.”
“Wine?” She wouldn’t be having a late harvest Riesling or a Pinot Blanc for a really long time now. She remembered the whiskey shot Sunday night guiltily.
“We’re both cut off,” Sky said cheerfully. She held up two to-go cups from Copper Mountain Chocolate. “This is even better.”
It was. Usually. Ashni had needed to be really careful about what she ate lately because so many things disagreed with her, which should have been a clue, but no. Some public health expert she was. She didn’t know jack about her own body.
“Thank you.” She sniffed at the rich chocolate scent, and her mouth watered. She lifted the lid and scooped out some whipped cream with her finger and licked it off.
She sighed. Delicious. She could survive on Sage’s hot chocolate for the next however many months.
“So when are you going to tell Beck?” Sky asked.
“I was going to wait until after the rodeo. I just wanted to have some time to think and process and come to terms with the news.”
Sky nodded.
“But then I blurted it out at the Main Street Diner. Really, I’m surprised the entire town doesn’t know by now. I was not subtle, and I swanned out like a pop star noticing there hadn’t been a sound check and ever worse lighting.” She rolled her eyes.
Sky’s eyes were huge. “How did Beck take the news?”
“Awful. He thinks we should get married at the courthouse immediately.”
“Yup.” Sky grinned. “I had that pegged right. I know my cowboys. Players and all about fun and then wham, bam, not even a please and a ring is on your finger.”
“I don’t want to know that cowboy.” Ashni felt grumpy that Sky thought Beck’s old-fashioned, grim-jawed acceptance of his fate was somehow gallant. “And I’m not putting a ring on my finger just because I’m pregnant.”
Sky nodded. “But it’s not just because of the baby. You and Beck love each other. He’s crazy about you. And you’ve been together forever. He’s the baby’s father. You can’t just ignore that.”
“I’m not.” Ashni felt defensive, which meant Sky was right. But she wasn’t ready to admit that. She needed to clutch her armor. Keep her distance.
“I wanted to change my life.” She scowled, taking another scoop of the whipped cream. “I should have been more careful about what I asked for.”
This was going to be more change than she’d anticipated, and she needed to learn how to live without Beck before the baby came.
“He didn’t want to marry me before the baby, so it’s not like he really wants to marry me now,” she explained. “He just thinks he should. And he made marriage sound like it was no big deal—like we could run down to the courthouse and pay a fee, say I do and that would be that. Marriage means nothing to him. He just wanted to get it over with because now I’ve become a responsibility.”
“Did you tell him how you feel?”
Ashni pressed her lips together, remembering Beck’s accusation this week that she hadn’t shared her feelings with him—that she’d expected him to read her mind.
“Not exactly.” She squirmed. Although she’d piled on the melodrama on her way out the door. She was sure of that even if she couldn’t remember her exact words.
“I think you should.” Sky sipped her hot chocolate for a beat and then stood up. “I was going to invite you to a fundraising thing we do on the Friday night before the rodeo, but I think you need to talk to Beck. You owe it to him. He’s the father. And you owe it to your baby. I don’t mean to be harsh, but you got to cowgirl it up, just as I had to when Kane galloped back into my life like a stampeding herd of cattle.”
“What do you mean?” Ashni seized on the distraction. She was not ready for Beck to stomp on her heart on the way to the courthouse.
“That, my friend, is a story for another day and another hot chocolate.” Sky grinned. “See you tomorrow at the grand unveiling art opening.” Sky waved toward the mural. “You rocked this teaching gig. Pure cash. I’d love to talk to you about other ideas for classes.”
Ashni nodded eagerly. At least one thing was going right in her life.
“Talk to Beck,” Sky reiterated and paused at the door. “And listen.”
Chapter Ten
“We did it!” Petal Telford, one of Ashni’s youngest but most earnest art students this week, stepped back from the now finished and drying mural. She held her hand up high, shot a selfie with just her eyes, forehead and sleek dark hair poking up in the bottom of the frame. The mural on one wall of the teen room scrolled out in vibrant detail behind her.
“Everyone get in. Sit on the floor.” Ashni waved the twelve kids over and climbed up on the top of a stepstool. “I want everyone in the picture. This one is for the Harry’s House website and my social media.”
The kids clumped together, trying various cool poses. Ashni laughed. She snapped some with her phone but others with a digital camera Beck had bought her last year for Christmas.
“Aren’t you going to get a picture of the entire mural?” Petal asked, looking worried.
“Yes, I am.” She changed to a wide-angle lens and climbed back up on the stepstool. “You guys slayed it.” She paused after taking a couple of shots. “Really spectacular. And that was just in one week. One week,” she marveled, shooting a few more frames. “Imagine what you could do if you keep drawing, keep honing your skills.”
“Are you going to teach another workshop next year when you come back?” Petal asked.
“Yes. Do. Please.” A chorus of voices warmed her heart.
“Actually,” she began…and paused. She hadn’t told anyone except Sky and Walker Wilder that she was staying on in Marietta—not even her family. She’d worked several hours each day remotely for the rodeo, wrapping up a few proje
cts and handing off others to different staff, and on Monday, she was starting her new job at the public health office that was housed, appropriately, in a small building in the hospital complex.
“Hey, it’s your boyfriend,” a couple of the girls hollered out. “The cowboy.”
A few of the boys whistled under their breath and grinned at her.
Beck leaned against the doorjamb, looking good enough to eat and as if he didn’t have a care in the world, whereas her heart seemed engaged in a jumping jack marathon.
“Did you come to see the mural?” Petal asked.
“I did,” he said. “I confess I was hoping you’d have an art opening so more of the town could come see it.”
“We are,” Petal said. “But that’s tomorrow morning before the rodeo parade. We’re going to meet here with our parents for hot chocolate and muffins because the mural’s not dry yet and Ms. Singh still has to paint the frame around the mural, and then tomorrow when we come, we get to sign our painting.”
“And someone from the Courier is going to come,” Lily, Petal’s friend, said.
“And also Dylan from the radio station is going to interview us all about the mural and theme,” Petal said.
“That’s impressive,” Beck said. “What’s the theme?”
Petal opened her mouth, but Lily slapped her hand over it. “Can you guess?” she dared him.
Beck’s eyes widened and he blew out a breath. He sauntered into the classroom to look at the mural more closely. “I can tell right off we got a lot of talented artists in this town,” he said. “And a very talented teacher.”
He looked at Ash, and she felt as if he was seeing all the way to her soul. His eyes were so warm and his gaze admiring. But he had dark circles under his eyes. Not sleeping. Hurting.
Like me.
Sky’s parting words echoed. She’d been afraid to hear Beck out.
Afraid I’ll change my mind.
She was doing the right thing though, wasn’t she? He could get around her that easily. She loved him that much. So she tried to have everything in place so she couldn’t change her mind. But what must that look and feel like to Beck? She’d been so devastated when she’d heard him openly asking Bodhi about what it was like to be with other women. She’d felt betrayed. And rejected, which was what she’d been doing all week to Beck.
Had she been punishing him?
That question didn’t sit well at all. But now was not the time to take it out and examine it with a young audience and Beck looking at her with his heart in his eyes.
“You’re supposed to be looking at the mural,” Ashni reminded him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Beck said, still infuriatingly not looking at the mural but at her. “I got a little distracted by another work of art.”
The kids responded to that with various noises that had Ashni blushing and Beck’s eyes sparkled.
He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels as he examined each panel of the mural. There was a scene of a farm stand, two kids playing baseball, a mom and two kids baking, a cowboy on a bucking bronc, hat clutched in his hold hand. He took his time, asked the kids who drew which picture and asked them questions—not just about their picture, but about art and what else they liked to do.
Beck was such a natural with everyone, not just kids, although on the tour he always spent the most time with the kids—not as much schmoozing with the corporate sponsors like his cousin Bodhi and a lot of the other cowboys did.
“Seems to me, everything revolves around an aspect of life in Marietta,” he said. “I see a lot of the town and the people. Community.”
“You got it in one guess.” Petal grinned.
“Hey, Miss Ashni, we still going for ice cream?” several of the boys asked.
“Yes. A promise is a promise, and your parents are meeting us at the Scoop to pick you up, but first final cleanup. Just leave the drop cloth.”
The kids scrambled, used to the drill. And Beck pitched in. Of course he did. That was one of the things she had always loved about him—how he’d open doors for people, hold them open, pick up something someone had dropped, help friends move, mentor younger cowboys just joining the tour, show up early and stay late at sponsor events, often helping the tour team set up and load up.
She could practically feel her heart goo up, and she wanted to slap herself for weakening so easily. But really, what other choice did she have? He was the father of her child. He wasn’t the type of man who would spread out his hands, palms up, and back away and say, “Not mine, no thanks.”
They would learn to co-parent. Millions of parents did. That was one of the many reasons she’d taken the job in Marietta. She loved the strong sense of community, of course, but mostly it was because Beck had roots here. He would be back often—perhaps permanently someday—and be able to participate in his child’s life.
And when he has another woman by his side?
The snarky question burned as did the jealousy that spread like acid through her veins. For the sake of their child, she vowed she’d be a decent ex.
“Hey now.” Beck was behind her as she stood at the sink giving the kids’ brushes a final rinse. Only she had the feeling she’d been here for a long time.
She could almost feel the brush of his body against hers—but that was wishful thinking as his hands lightly covered hers while she clutched the brushes under the cold water. Always cold, she’d told the kids, to protect the glue anchoring the bristles.
“I think the bristles are clean.” His warm breath teased her cheek.
“Just making sure,” she muttered. “Can’t be too careful.”
She’d always loved Beck’s hands—so strong and sure. Callused from so much work, but his fingers were long and blunt at the ends, and he kept his nails neatly trimmed, all the half-moons showing. And his skin was a lighter, golden brown compared to her deeper hue.
His lips briefly touch the curl of her ear. “Yes, baby, you can.” His hands closed more fully over hers, and he gave her a light, reassuring squeeze.
She closed her eyes and willed her body to stop trembling.
Beck reached around and turned off the water and spread the brushes out on the soft cloth she’d laid out so that they would dry.
She felt a little bit like she was coming out of a spell when she turned around and saw him watching her so intently. His eyes looked darker, his cheeks hollower, and the Copper-Mountain-high planes of his cheeks looked even starker than usual.
But his scrutiny warmed as she stared at him helplessly.
“It’s going to be okay, Ash,” he whispered. “Better than okay.”
She could barely breathe, much less swallow all of the tension clawing at her suddenly. She didn’t see how he could say that. It was wishful thinking, and she’d been doing too much wishing and dreaming for the both of them. She had to be strong.
Gulping in a shaky breath, she quickly—and cowardly—walked toward the students grouped eagerly around the door.
“Ice cream!” She pasted on a happy, look-how-unaffected-I-am smile and rushed out of Harry’s House. Hopefully, she could calm herself enough to act normal by the time they arrived at the ice cream parlor.
No such luck. Just as she was registering that the warm, late-September afternoon had turned breezy with a definite chill now that the sun was beginning to set, Beck draped her denim jacket over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she murmured, keeping her attention on the group of pre and young teens walking with them.
She would not look into his beautiful eyes. She would not let her gaze linger on his lips that knew how to kiss her senseless and drive her over the edge again and again. She could resist Beck. She just needed to practice. But darn the man, he made it near impossible when she could smell his cedar, citrus and spice scent. He walked so close to her, reminding her how it felt to belong.
Ignore him.
Hard to do when they arrived at the ice cream store. Beck insisted on treating, and when she demurre
d, he shot her a wicked smile and ordered her favorite, pistachio, and his, peanut butter and chocolate, in one cone.
“Milk,” he whispered in her ear. “It does a body or two bodies good.”
His breath was warm, his lips cold from the lick he’d stolen, and he held out the cone for her to take a swipe.
She was supposed to say “no thank you,” but she was so undone by his nearness and his casual reference to the baby that she could only stare up at him.
“You love ice cream.” His tender sky-blue gaze warmed with heat, and as she continued to stare at him, transfixed like an idiot, his gaze darkened.
“Take a picture and put it on your screen saver,” Declan, probably one of the best cartoonists in the entire class, urged. “You two are blocking the line.”
Ashni took a quick step back, but Beck followed and casually looped his arm around her waist. He held the cone closer to her lips, and Ashni gave up. She told herself it was to avoid creating any more attention—especially as several parents were starting to arrive—but really it was because she felt herself starting to crack. It felt so good to be held. She’d been making so many changes so quickly and then learning about the baby had been disorienting. Beck seemed so steady. Her rock.
These four days without Beck had been wonderful in some ways and achingly lonely in others. She’d had so many new experiences, and yet he hadn’t been there to share any of them with her.
Because you shut him out.
She felt guilty and confused—as if she were keeping secrets from him, the one person she’d never lied to or had held back any part of herself.
Until recently.
Trust her conscience—nudged by Sky—to not just niggle but to shout. Ashni angled her head and placed her hand lightly over his to bring the cone closer so she could have a taste of pistachio.
She closed her eyes and stifled a groan. She loved pistachio ice cream. LOVED it. And she often denied herself because she tried her best to avoid sugar in her diet for health reasons.
“I like the way we usually eat it,” Beck said softly.
In bed.
Of course he’d remind her of that now, here, in public with her students laughing and talking and greeting their parents and enthusing about the day. Ashni nearly choked on her second lick of ice cream.
The Cowboy Says I Do Page 14