The Rancher's Lullaby (Glades County Cowboys) Page 17

  “Nah. But then, music’s not my strong point.” Steve stretched his legs toward the fire. His expression brightened. “I know a guy, though, who built a music studio in his garage. What say I put you in touch with him? Maybe he could cut you a demo. Or even help you get a couple of gigs.” He glanced around. “You could do a lot better than singing duets on a cattle drive.”

  “Hey, now. What’s wrong with cattle drives?” Garrett grumbled.

  “Not a thing.” Lisa gave him a pointed look before she turned to face Steve. “Sorry,” she said, reaching for her banjo. “A lot of performers would swoon at the chance, but my music store keeps me plenty busy.”

  Her music store. Not him.

  While Steve expressed his disappointment and offered his business card in case she ever changed her mind, Garrett sat back, stunned. He had no claim on Lisa. Though they’d professed their love for one another, they’d never discussed their plans. So far, they’d kept their relationship under wraps. Why hadn’t they let everyone know they were a couple sooner?

  He gulped. What had he been thinking, going so slow? He had to do more, step up his game. And what better way to prove his love than by asking Lisa to move in with him? He’d thought living together would happen down the road a bit, but the more he tried the idea on, the more he felt now was as good a time as any.

  While the crowd clapped and sang along, he started to make plans. He was still hard at them when the last gooey chocolate treat disappeared. Soon after, parents rounded up their children and headed to the bunkhouse. Not much later, the single men broke out flasks and began swapping stories. At the signal that the entertainment was over for the night, Garrett began packing away their instruments. Walking Lisa back to the bunkhouse a few minutes later, he leaned down. “How ’bout you and me take a little break Sunday afternoon? Just the two of us.”

  While Lisa deserved to hear him profess his love over caviar and champagne, last he’d checked, no one had plunked a five-star restaurant down in the middle of Circle P’s thousand acres of palmetto and scrub. Instead, he’d take her on a picnic that would send the news of their relationship rippling through the camp.

  Lisa quirked an eyebrow at him. “Sure, but you don’t want to bring LJ?”

  “Not this time.” Garrett swallowed. Some things—like asking her to share his house and his bed—were better done without an audience.

  Chapter Eleven

  Garrett lifted the wicker lid and peeked inside. Wrapped in a red-checkered cloth, a decent bottle of wine nestled in one corner. Emma’s homemade chicken salad rested on a bed of ice. In his mind, the loaf of bread fresh from the Circle P’s oven completed the meal, but the head cook had insisted on adding a dense chocolate cake she called a torte. Thinking it might be fun to dredge strawberries through the rich icing and feed them to Lisa one by one, he’d chosen the biggest, freshest red berries from Circle P’s crisper.

  “You’re sure I’m not leaving you in the lurch?” Garrett swallowed a guilty twinge. He turned to Ty. The roundup was nearly complete, nearly a thousand head of prime Andalusian cattle counted and vaccinated.

  Ty nodded his approval. “Nah, you’ve done a great job all week. You and Lisa deserve a couple of hours of freedom. We got this. Josh took half the crew on a bird-watching expedition in the ’Glades. The other half are fishing at Little Lake. When they get back, me and the rest of the boys are gonna be busy cleaning their catch and settin’ up for the fish fry while everyone gets ready to pull out at first light.”

  Garrett took a breath. He and Lisa would return in plenty of time for the roundup’s last campfire. First, though, there was the not-so-little matter of announcing that they had something special going on between them. The picnic would put his extended family on notice. Dinner at Lightsey’s next week would spread the word through the rest of the town faster than checking a box on their social-media pages.

  “You ready for this?” Ty asked.

  “Is any man? Ever?” He paused, his thoughts somber. Not so long ago, he’d been certain he’d spend the rest of his life alone. Then Lisa had waltzed into the living room of the Circle P and turned his world upside down. One day, they’d pick out rings in the same jewelry store where his father and brothers had shopped. Till they did, he wanted to set up housekeeping with her. “All I know for sure is that I love her. I want us to spend our lives together. Lisa and me and LJ.”

  “If she feels the same way, it’ll be enough. It always is.” Ty scuffed his boot through the sand. “Not to change the subject or anything, but have you had a chance to touch base with Randy or Royce?”

  “’Matter of fact, I called ’em while I was up at the main house gettin’ this.” Garrett tied the lunch basket to Gold’s saddle. “Sounds as if you were right. They like it in Montana. They’re in no hurry to come back here.” He gazed at the miles of flat grazing land. Why his brothers wanted to work another ranch so far away was beyond him, but—whatever their reasons—their decision suited him just fine.

  Ty slapped a hand on his back. “You’re staying on, then? That’s a big load off my mind.”

  “Yeah, mine, too.” The rumble of an approaching ATV broke the quiet, and he looked up. His stomach tightened as another reason for staying put neared.

  “Guess I’d better make myself scarce.” After clapping a hand on his shoulder and offering him the best of luck, Ty stepped toward the bunkhouse.

  “Thanks,” Garrett answered, though he was pretty sure he was already the luckiest man in the world. He watched as Lisa’s face crinkled into the smile he’d come to love the moment she spotted him. Warmth filled his chest. It spread until it filled him from head to toe. Quickly he crossed to where she sat in the front seat. He gave her his hand and pulled her to him.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said, his smile widening.

  “Oh?” Lisa’s eyebrows arched. “Will I like it?”

  “I hope so.”

  After giving the driver instructions to see to her overnight bag, he led the way to the spot where Gold and Lady waited in the shade. “I thought we’d take a little ride to a spot you’ll like. I packed a picnic supper for just the two of us.”

  His thoughts on the rest of his plans for the evening, he didn’t notice her hesitation at first. When he did, he cocked his head. Had the scare the other day ruined riding for her? Guilt twisted his gut. She’d worked so hard to overcome her initial fears, but he’d seen others try and fail. In grade school, one of his friends had wandered too close to the hind end of a nervous horse and gotten himself kicked. His pal never was much for horses after that. Then there were guys who took bad falls in the rodeo and never saddled up again. He wanted better for Lisa.

  “It might be tough to get back in the saddle again,” he said softly. “But the longer you wait, the harder it’ll get.”

  “It’s not that. I’m not afraid.” As if to prove her point, Lisa skimmed her fingers along Lady’s cheek.

  Garrett let his confusion show. “Then why?”

  “I don’t want to ride. Not tonight. Not for...a while.” Lisa gave the mare one last pat. “Can we just drop it?”

  Garrett lifted his Stetson and ran a hand through his hair. He gave the matter a second thought and grinned. Though he didn’t have a clue what he’d done to trigger her stubborn streak, Lisa’s independence was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. He guessed if he was going to keep time with a woman who had a mind of her own, he’d best start learning to compromise.

  “Not a problem. We’ll take the ATV.” They could still follow the trail to a secret spot where a pool of crystal-clear water bubbled up from deep below the surface of the earth. He’d spread a blanket in the shade of a hundred-year-old oak tree and, between kisses, they’d feast on some of Lisa’s favorite foods. Satisfied he’d found a middle ground they could both live with, he untied the lunch basket. His footsteps toward the nearest four-wheeler slowed when she didn’t join him. Puzzled, he did an about-face.

  �
�This is all incredibly sweet of you.” Her expression clouded, Lisa peered at him. “I appreciate the effort. I do. If I’d known...” She gestured toward the picnic basket. “My stomach’s been a bit rocky lately. I’m trying to avoid fried foods. When I heard there was a fish fry scheduled for tonight, I decided to eat before I left town.”

  Garrett covered his disappointment with his most winning smile. “You might change your mind. I know how much you like chicken salad. Emma fixed her famous chocolate cake.” He lifted the lid, giving Lisa a glimpse of wine glasses and cloth napkins.

  Her shoulders slumped as his ploy to tempt her backfired. She shook her head. “I’ve sworn off chocolate and alcohol for a while. As for the salad, well, after the last time, I’m afraid I lost my taste for it. Rain check?”

  When the woman he loved stared sweetly at him as if she hadn’t just ruined his plans for a romantic evening, Garrett took a breath and attempted to regroup. “Have I done something wrong?” he asked.

  “It’s not you.”

  The hand she waved through the air softened the blow without doing a darn thing to end his confusion. The dark eyes he hoped to see every day for the rest of his life narrowed. Hog-tying his frustration, he waited while she stood, her weight shifting from one slim leg to another.

  “I’ve been a bit under the weather lately.”

  Garrett held his breath and waited. Was she sick?

  “Certain foods don’t agree with me,” she continued slowly. “I’ve been tired. So tired.”

  She stared at him as if she’d made a great pronouncement that required action on his part.

  “Have you seen a doctor?” Worried about her, he moved closer. He thought back to the day she’d asked him to leave her apartment so she could take a nap. Had she been sick that long? “What’s—” he gulped “—wrong?”

  He stared at the top of her head while she studied her feet. “Nothing. It’s just that I saw my obstetrician last week.” She lifted her chin. Her eyes scoured his face. “She confirmed what I suspected. I’m pregnant, Garrett.”

  “You’re...what?” He choked on the words she’d plunged into his heart like a rusty knife. He knew better than to let his jaw hang open, but he was powerless to close it. He couldn’t breathe, was sure his heart had stopped beating. Dominoes fell in reverse to the night they’d spent together during the storm. “This can’t be happening,” he argued.

  “But it is, Garrett.” She paused. “I thought you’d be happy.”

  “Happy?” His voice rose. “This is the last thing I ever wanted.”

  Lisa’s mouth formed a thin line. “We didn’t plan this. Either of us. But it’s happened. We have to deal with it.”

  “I can’t. Not again,” he said, his voice low and guttural as he ignored her pleading tone.

  She reached for him then. Her fingertips barely grazed one arm, but they delivered a body blow. He stumbled and backed away. “You said... You swore you couldn’t...”

  Tears welled in a pair of expressive brown eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible. I tried for years. Spent thousands of dollars on the best fertility doctors in the country. Nothing worked. I resigned myself to never having children. Then you came along and we...”

  She stopped talking. Her hand slipped down to cup her midsection in a move that, in retrospect, seemed painfully familiar.

  Lisa...pregnant.

  Garrett slowly closed his mouth. White noise roared through his head. He flexed his fingers. The picnic basket fell to the ground. His movements jerky, he strode past the spot where Lisa stood. The tears that traced down her cheeks twisted the knife in his gut. He hesitated, but flashes of days he’d done his best to forget put his feet in motion again. He wrenched Gold’s reins from the tree branch. His hands shook so hard he could hardly grasp the pommel, but he managed to haul himself into the saddle. Refusing to look back, he concentrated on putting as much distance as he could between himself and memories too painful to relive.

  * * *

  THE WORLD SLOWED as Garrett mounted Gold. Lisa stood as still as a statue, willing the man she loved to come to his senses. To rein Gold to one side and dismount. To sweep her into his arms.

  He never turned, never looked back. Her heart trembled when he whipped the horse into a gallop. She thought it might have shattered when Garrett and Gold disappeared into a stand of ancient pines that formed a windbreak beyond the bunkhouse. Only then did she let her gaze drop. A tear rolled off her cheek and splashed onto the ground beside the discarded basket.

  Spying a line of ants marching through the dirt toward the spilled food, she shuddered. There was more at stake here than her heart. She had a pregnancy to watch over, a baby to protect. Until Garrett came to grips with the news—and he would, she insisted—she couldn’t lose control, couldn’t give in to the heady emotions that threatened to swamp her.

  Brushing her tears aside, she swept what remained of their picnic into the container. Her head bent, her limbs impossibly heavy, she trudged through the nearly deserted camp to the bunkhouse, where she dropped the basket on a bench outside the kitchen. Passing through the swinging doors into the dining area, her footsteps slowed. She scanned the room where she and Garrett had shared meals, where she’d dreamed of a future with him. She blinked lashes that refused to stay dry.

  What if he never accepted this baby?

  He would, she insisted. He just needed a little bit of time. After all, she hadn’t believed her eyes when the first pregnancy test turned positive. She’d had to repeat the test three, maybe four times, before her head registered what her heart already knew. Even then, the truth hadn’t really sunk in until she saw the doctor. If she’d had so much trouble accepting that something she’d spent years trying to achieve was finally real, she couldn’t blame Garrett for struggling with it, could she?

  Gathering the ragged edges of her composure together, she forced her weary legs to carry her up the stairs. In her room, she collapsed onto her narrow bed. She supposed she drifted off because she woke, groggy and thirsty. The smell and taste of fried foods drifted in the still air, and her stomach rumbled. She reached for the crackers she kept at her bedside and ate a couple. Rising, she downed a few sips of bottled water. She crossed to the window. Flames danced against the night sky. People crowded around the campfire.

  Was Garrett there waiting for her? Would the rancher take her in his arms and whisper that everything would be all right? That he loved her and was excited for the new life she carried? Hope flaring, she hurriedly gathered her instruments and sped downstairs.

  But Garrett wasn’t there.

  It took every ounce of professionalism she’d developed in her years onstage, but she kept it together. Ignoring the hurt, she broke out her banjo and launched into the first set. It wasn’t the first time she’d carried the ball solo. But it was the first time every ballad made her want to break down in tears. If her eyes glistened more than usual, she let everyone think the smoke from the campfire stung them.

  Later, back in her room, she couldn’t remember a single song she’d sung, the jokes she’d told between numbers, the light-hearted banter she’d traded with the guests and ranch hands. Her poor, tired brain had room only for the growing certainty that Garrett wasn’t coming back, that he’d never accept this pregnancy, that she’d lost him forever. She cupped her fingers around her belly.

  “Looks like it’s just you and me,” she whispered. Though she hadn’t fully come to grips with what that meant, she had to reassure her unborn child. “That’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

  She could do this. Despite her aching heart, she’d stay strong. For her baby. With or without Garrett at her side, she’d nurture the life within her and give their child a loving home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Josh’s lariat missed the bull calf the ranch hand had separated from the rest of the herd. Bawling, the three-month-old raced across the open field toward its mother. Garrett swept his hat from his head and slapped it on his thigh. At the rate they were
going, it’d be winter by the time the men rounded up the last of the late-season calves, tagged their ears and gave them all the required vaccinations.

  “Josh, get your head out of the clouds and focus,” Garrett said. “We don’t have all week to get these calves tagged.” Actually, they did, but that was beside the point.

  The young man’s posture stiffened. Instead of wheeling his horse and heading for the herd the way Garrett expected him to, Josh draped his reins over Dusty’s neck. He sat, nothing but the straight line of firmly set lips exposed beneath the low brim of a worn Stetson. He lingered long enough to make his point before, mumbling something Garrett felt sure it was best he didn’t hear, Josh headed after the calf.

  Garrett sighed. The cowhand didn’t deserve a tongue-lashing any more than the rest of the men did. Even the most experienced wranglers had trouble parting the squalling babies from their protective mamas. This little bull, in particular, had been dodging the ranch hands all morning.

  “Sorry,” he grumbled loud enough for Josh and the others to hear. He shifted in his saddle. Days like today brought out every frustrating bone in his body.

  But, to tell the truth, he’d had a succession of bad days. Starting with the night he’d left Lisa in a cloud of dust and ridden out of the campsite. He brushed a bothersome hank of hair off his face and clamped his hat on his head. He would not think about the baby she carried. His baby. The mere thought turned his insides to jelly. He resettled his hat and deliberately focused his thoughts elsewhere.

  “Good job,” he called when Josh returned, trailing the stubborn calf in his wake.

  With a creak of leather and a jangle of tack, he climbed down from Gold. He grabbed the tag applicator from his saddle bag and inserted a new pin while two of the men wrestled the baby to the ground. A quick alcohol swab, a pinch and the job was done.

  “You put up a lot of fuss for a little bit of nothing,” Garrett whispered in the calf’s ear. He lifted the rope from the baby’s neck. Still bellyaching, the little bull scrambled to its feet.