Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

The Rancher's Expectant Christmas

Год написания книги
2019
<< 1 ... 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 >>
На страницу:
7 из 10
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

Not to mention the hell part of it.

Tossing his empty bottle in the plastic-lined bin by the table, Josh marched his sorry ass into the other room and over to Dee, where he dropped onto the sofa beside her like he actually knew what he was doing. Even though, aside from the fact he doubted he could fix things for her any better now than when they were kids, he also imagined they were the worst possible combination of two people in the entire world right now.

And quite possibly the only two people who’d really understand what the other was going through.

He thought this was called working with what you had. Or were given.

Something.

* * *

By this point Deanna was so drained, both emotionally and physically, she was basically numb. She’d told herself she wouldn’t cry, but that had been a lost cause. Shoot, there were tears when she scored her favorite ice cream in the freezer case; what on earth had she expected at her father’s memorial service? Stoicism? And right on cue, her chest fisted. Again.

And Josh was not helping. But asking him to go away would be mean. Not to mention self-defeating. Since as much as she wished he hadn’t come over, she didn’t want him to leave, either. Actually, what she really wanted was to curl into as much of a ball as her massive middle would allow and sleep the merciful sleep of the oblivious. Lord, pregnancy brain was a bitch. However, even if Josh hadn’t planted his large self beside her on the couch there was the will reading to get through. Honestly, it was like being in some old black-and-white movie, what with the drama and all—

He’d leaned forward, his elbows planted on his knees. Not looking at her. Just being there, like the old days.

“You doin’ okay?”

“Mostly. Sure.”

One side of his mouth lifted. “If you say so,” he said, and she sort of laughed, rubbing her belly. Babypie was apparently snoozing, thank God, although that hard little head still relentlessly gouged her lower back.

But anyway, Josh. Whose scent immediately brought back a slew of memories—maybe not so numb, at that—that made her think of things she’d refused to let herself think about then, and for darn sure shouldn’t be thinking about now. Or ever. God knew not all cowboys smelled that good—and there’d been plenty of times when Josh hadn’t, either, to be real—but right now it was all about leather and fresh cotton and something piney and yummy and her extraspecial pregnancy smeller was having a freaking field day.

“You need anything? Food or whatever?”

“No. Thanks. Your mom made sure I ate.”

“She’s good at that.”

Josh sat up a little straighter, scrubbing one palm over his knee. Jeans, of course, although his “good” ones. Paired with a black corduroy shirt with silver buttons, a tan sports jacket, the guy didn’t look half-bad. This late in the day a beard haze shadowed his jaw, giving him a sexy male model look, God help her.

Then he laced his hands together between his knees, frowning at the tops of his boots—also his “good” ones, dirt-and dung-free. “When’d Steve say the reading was again?”

“He should be here any minute,” Deanna said, and Josh nodded. The last of the guests—a couple from a nearby ranch, she didn’t even remember their names, so sad—stopped to give her the obligatory, “If you need anything, anything at all, please let us know,” before walking away, and Deanna huffed a tired little breath. From the time she’d heard until this very moment, everything had felt oddly surreal, familiar and yet not, like being in a play she ought to know her part in but she didn’t, really. Now, for some bizarre reason, it felt as though the stage lights were being shut off, one by one, leaving her and Josh on a bare stage, lit only by the eerie glare of a single, stark light. The good news was, she could stop pretending now, if she chose.

The bad news was, she still had no idea what her reality was. Or was supposed to be. But when she looked at Josh’s profile, saw that set jaw, the grim set to his mouth, it occurred to her she wasn’t the only one whose world was about to turn upside down. Or inside out. Heck, Josh had given his entire life to this ranch. Meaning whatever came next would probably affect him a lot more than it would her.

From the kitchen, a murmur of voices floated into the silent, cavernous room—his parents and Gus, she thought. Austin came over to climb in Josh’s lap; Josh wrapped his arms around his son from behind as though nothing, nothing, would ever come between them, and suddenly Deanna wanted to know so badly what’d happened between Josh and Austin’s mother it almost made her dizzy. She’d asked Gus, actually, but he’d said it wasn’t his story to tell.

“Hey,” she said softly, and Josh angled his head to look at her, the obvious worry glimmering in those soft goldy-green eyes punching her insides harder than the baby’s foot. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, she reached over—awkwardly—to lay a hand on his knee, right beside Austin’s little sneaker. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He actually chuckled. “You telling me that? Or yourself?” he said, a moment before the lawyer arrived, looking a little windblown from the short walk from the driveway to the front door.

“Sorry I couldn’t make the service,” he said breathlessly as Josh stood to shake his hand. “Got summoned to a surprise court appearance in Santa Fe.” Sweeping hunks of unruly silver hair off his forehead, Steve Riggs gave Deanna a sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry, honey, I really am. Your daddy was a good man. We’ll all miss him.”

The same words she’d heard no less than three dozen times in the past two hours. Still, she knew the sentiment was sincere.

“Thank you.”

“Well,” the attorney said, looking a little relieved at being able to move on, “I suppose I’m ready when you are. Do you need help?” he asked when she tried to cantilever herself to her feet. But Josh was already on the case, having set Austin down to come around the side of the sofa, bracing one arm across her back to hoist her upright.

The attorney’s brows spiked over his glasses. “My goodness. When are you due?”

Because she was not one of those women who only gained fifteen pounds and looked like she was carrying a cantaloupe. “Six weeks or so.”

“Well.” Steve’s favorite word, apparently. “If you gather the others, I suppose we can do the reading in Granville’s office. Unless...” His gaze swung to Deanna’s. “You’d rather do it elsewhere?”

“The office is fine.”

It didn’t take long. Her dad had left modest bequests to various people in the community who’d be notified in a few days. Gus got an annuity, Dad’s old Caddy and the right to live in one of the guesthouses as long as he wished. Since Dad had already given Josh’s parents a house in town after Sam’s retirement, his gifts to them now included a few stocks and bonds and a small Thomas Moran landscape painting Sam had always admired...and which Deanna knew was worth big bucks. Then, aside from a modest savings account which went to Deanna, there were a few disbursements to various charities Dad had always supported, particularly ones that worked with the local Native populations.

“And now,” Steve said, peering over his glasses at Deanna, then Josh, before clearing his throat. “‘I leave my ranch, known as the Vista Encantada, including the house, the land, any and all outbuildings and whatever livestock on said land at the time of my death, equally to my only daughter, Deanna Marie Blake, and my employee Joshua Michael Talbot.”

A moment of stunned silence preceded a dual “What?” from Deanna and Josh.

“Congratulations, kids,” Steven said, angling the will toward them so they could see for themselves. “You’re now co-owners of one of the prettiest pieces of property in northern New Mexico.”

Chapter Three (#ulink_a62a219d-1b57-5ed0-8bb4-fe2caebe0fcf)

“But I don’t want the ranch,” Dee said later, after everyone else had left so she and Josh could ostensibly hash things out. She shifted in the corner of the tufted leather couch in the office, clearly miserable. Physically and emotionally, Josh guessed. “I never did. And Dad knew it.”

Leaning his butt against the edge of the Depression-era desk, Josh crossed his arms. He’d initially assumed her shock had been because Gran had left half the ranch to him. Apparently not. “You told him that?”

“Yes!” Then, rubbing one temple, she sighed. “Or at least I thought I did. In any case—” her hand dropped to what was left of her lap “—I never made a secret of how much I hated being stuck out here. Why on earth would I want the place?”

“And what’d you think he was gonna do? You’re his kid, Dee. The ranch was his most valuable asset. Of course he’d leave it to you. I’m only surprised he didn’t leave you the whole thing.” Because she hadn’t been the only one in shock there. Truth be told, Josh still was. And would be for a good long while, he suspected.

Dee’s eyes lifted to his before she shoved out another sigh. “I can’t...this isn’t my home anymore, Josh.”

“Well aware of that.” His forehead pinched, he glanced down at the floor, then back at her. “But it’s been mine all my life. And the breeding operation...sure, I was only an employee and all, but your dad hadn’t had a hand in it for some time. He’d left all the decision making to me—”

“I know, Josh. I know.” She paused. “He obviously trusted you. And it’s not as if you don’t deserve it. But—”

“Look, you don’t want to stick around and help me run the Vista, I completely understand. We can still be partners, if you trust me enough to handle things on this end, and we can split the profits. There’s money to be made with the cabins, too, plenty of hunters would be happy to fork over the bucks during elk season. You know Steve’ll look out for your interests, make sure I’m not screwing you over—”

“It’s not that,” she said, sagging into the couch’s deep cushions. “It’s...” Her mouth thinned. “Okay. It’s not as if I’d really given this much thought, since I didn’t figure it’d be an issue for a long, long time. But since he did leave me half the ranch...oh, Lord. I can’t even say it.”

Josh’s veins iced over. “You want to sell it.”

A long moment passed before she said, “It’s more that I need to.”

“You sound like you’ve got gambling debts.”

She almost smiled. “No. But I do have a baby on the way. A baby who’s going to be applying to colleges eighteen years down the road.” Her mouth twisted. “Would be nice to have one less thing to worry about. Sure, the place might be profitable now. But there’s no guarantee it’ll stay that way. Not in this economic climate. If we sold it...”

Birds in the hand and all that. Yeah, he got it. Josh sighed, realizing he could hardly argue with her. About that, at least. God knows plenty of ranches went under, through no fault of their owners. And he’d be a fool to guarantee her that the Vista wouldn’t. Also, out of curiosity Granville had had the property appraised a couple years back, information he’d apparently shared with Josh because he’d been too stunned to keep it to himself. Even taking into account normal fluctuations in the real estate market, the figure was staggering. To somebody like Josh, at least.
<< 1 ... 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 >>
На страницу:
7 из 10