The Rancher Takes a Bride

Oregon bit down on her bottom lip and let her gaze slide to Duke. He was looking at her daughter, at their daughter. Oregon nodded when he looked to her for direction.

She had to do this.

* * *

“Lilly, we need to talk.” Oregon began with those words, and Duke couldn’t disagree. He didn’t know any better way to start. But now that the words were said, he wondered if they should have given it more time. Maybe they should have prepared Lilly in some way. This was big news for a kid.

It had been pretty big news for him.

“Okay.” Lilly sank her fingers into Daisy’s black-and-white coat, and she looked at Duke as if he could make this any easier. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging, hang-in-there smile.

“Duke and I knew each other a long time ago. We met at a rodeo when I was eighteen.”

The words hung between them, and he felt like an acrobat on a tightrope, hanging precariously above this situation. Lilly continued to pet Daisy. She dropped her gaze to the dog with its tongue hanging out, a dog smile on her face. Daisy whined and moved in closer to Lilly, as if sensing that this wasn’t good.

“How many years ago?” Lilly raised those blue eyes and looked from her mom to him.

“Almost thirteen years.” Oregon spoke in a quiet voice, her gaze shifting from her daughter to him.

“Thirteen,” Lilly whispered, her face pale, her hands clasping the dog, pulling her close. She buried her face against Daisy, and he had the sneaking suspicion she was hiding tears. His kid would do that. She’d hide it when she cried, and she’d fight anyone who said those were tears on her cheeks.

Duke sat there watching the girl who was his daughter. He didn’t know what to say. He definitely didn’t know what a dad would do in this situation.

He did know he’d knock down mountains for her. “Lilly, I’m sorry. If I’d known...”

She glared, eyes narrowed. “Sorry?” She shook her head, one tear sliding down her cheek. She brushed it away. “For what? For not telling me? For acting like my friend?”

Oregon opened her mouth; he was sure she meant to reprimand Lilly. He put a hand up, stopping the words. “She has a right to be angry.”

He didn’t have a manual on parenting, but he knew all about being an angry kid.

“Yeah, angry.” Lilly said it like she was trying to find the emotion that fit. He guessed there was a lot of hurt. How much did they tell her? How much did they keep from her?

He looked to Oregon because she had the experience he was lacking. She moved her chair closer to her daughter. No, retract that, his daughter. Their daughter. He studied her face.

“Lilly, Duke didn’t know. I waited too long and by the time I had found him, he’d joined the army and was on his way to Afghanistan.”

“But you came here to tell him, and you didn’t. Right?” Lilly swiped at angry tears chasing a trail down her cheeks. Duke brushed dampness from his own cheeks.

He hated that she was crying and that he didn’t know how to fix this for her. He loved this kid and had from the first moment she bounded up the steps of the diner, asking for odd jobs to raise money for a horse. He’d given her a bridle for Christmas. She’d made him a card with a horse she drew. She’d signed it “with love, Lilly.”

They’d had an immediate connection, he guessed. And he hadn’t been smart enough to figure it out, to see the smile, the blue eyes, for what they were. His eyes. His sister’s smile. Yeah, he saw it now. Lilly looked like his little sister, Samantha, but with Oregon’s dark hair.

“I took too long,” Oregon admitted. “For that I owe you both an apology, and I hope you’ll forgive me. I just wanted to know for sure...”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. He saw tears gather in her eyes and escape down the slopes of her cheeks. “I messed up,” she whispered.

“Yeah, you did.” Lilly wasn’t all about forgiveness at the moment. Duke knew she’d get past it. She was that kind of kid.

“Lilly, your mom wanted to know that I was a person she’d want in your life. And I can tell you, a few years back, I wasn’t. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

She shot him a look. “Yeah, you did.”

“No. You’re not a mistake,” he countered.

“Not a mistake, just...” She grabbed her crutches and stood. “What am I?”

“Our daughter,” Duke said, wishing he could take back twelve years and redo everything. But he couldn’t.

“I’m taking a walk.” Lilly hobbled off.

Duke started to go after her. Oregon stopped him, a hand on his arm. “Let her have a few minutes alone.”

He sat back down in the chair next to Oregon. He watched his daughter walk away, Daisy at her heels but keeping a careful distance. He knew where she was going. She was going to the horses.

“What are we going to do?” he asked Oregon. She was watching Lilly walk away.

“We’re going to be parents together. We’ll figure it out.”

“Right. Of course we will.” But Oregon had already figured it out. He was the one who had a lot to learn.

He’d spent most of his life not planning to marry, not planning on kids. And now he had one. A girl named Lilly. And where did that leave Oregon, the mother of his child?

Since yesterday he’d been forcing himself to remember, trying to recall that summer. Man, he’d been out of control that year. He’d watched his dad drinking his life away, Jake trying to be the man of the house and his younger siblings, Samantha and Brody, lost and alone. Duke had run wild, trying to make it all go away. But he remembered bits and pieces of a girl who thought she was having an adventure barrel racing.

Yeah, he remembered. She’d flirted, riding past him, taking his hat. He’d forgotten. He shouldn’t have forgotten.

He looked at the woman sitting across from him, worry over their daughter furrowing her brow. She was no longer that young girl. Duke saw her now as a mom, a woman with strength and faith.

And the mother of his child.

Chapter Four (#ulink_f2041e67-4018-5ae4-a9e8-a6a39f9fb330)

Oregon started packing the next morning. By noon she had already made a dent in the process. Not that she had a lot. She’d always known how to let go of possessions, to keep only what really mattered.

An hour in, she’d sent Lilly across the street to talk to Duke. Since she’d been gone, Oregon had managed to go through twice as much, packing a lot and putting other things in boxes to be given away. She taped the top of a box she’d just filled and reached for another.

She hated moving. It brought back too many memories. Of leaving towns she would have liked to remain in and people she wanted to know better. By the time she’d reached her teens, she had stopped getting attached. It made it easier to let go if she shrugged it all off and pretended it didn’t matter. A new home, a new life, a new opportunity, her mother had always said, as she had happily packed them off in some aging car she’d bought when the last aging car quit.

Oregon had moved here with the intention of putting down roots.

“Do you always talk to yourself?”

Oregon smiled at the woman standing outside the screen door of the apartment she and Lilly had called home since moving to Martin’s Crossing. Apartment was a generous word for the small space, which was really just a living area with a bedroom in the loft.

“It stops me from saying things to the wrong people if I say them to myself.” She motioned Breezy Martin in. “Want a cup of tea?”

“No, I’m good. I stopped by to see if I could help.”