Father For Her Newborn Baby. Lynne Marshall
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moment to remember his mother, the peacemaker. She’d had to work extra hard when Cole was a teenager, since he and his father seemed to butt heads on every little detail in life. His dad wanted to train him to take over the ranch when the time came, and all Cole had wanted to do was show off at junior rodeos. After the accident, when his father pushed him to spend weeknights learning the ins and outs of cattle ranching, Cole had signed up for the high-school academic decathlon, which assured he wouldn’t have an extra minute to learn anything from his father. And that earned him the nickname of Wonder Boy, said with contempt not pride by his father.
When Cole eventually announced he wanted to be a doctor, not a cowboy, well, Tiberius hadn’t been able to hide the disappointment. What father in his right mind got upset when his son wanted to go into medicine?
A “cantankerous old cowboy first, father second” kind.
Cole wished his mother were here so he could hug her and tell her how much he’d always loved her. But rather than slide into a sentimental slump, he shifted his gaze from the overhead skylights back to the bride.
Julie Sterling, soon-to-be Montgomery, looked stunning in an off-white cocktail-length dress, her unruly brown hair piled high on her head, dotted with baby’s breath and tiny yellow daisies, making her big eyes look nothing short of huge. He couldn’t help but notice she had great legs, too—Trevor’s favorite part of female anatomy. And by the way she looked at his brother, that wide stare was meant only for him. A good thing.
Cole wondered what that might be like—had a woman ever only had eyes for him? It seemed there was always a link to his accomplishments, or a secret wish for what he could offer, and when those things got stripped away, the love light fizzled out. That was how it had worked with Victoria when he’d never gotten around to proposing. He glanced at his lucky-dog brother.
Trev looked nothing short of dignified in his Western tux and new boots, and Cole hadn’t exactly held up his end of the bargain if he was supposed to dress in kind. Instead, he’d opted for one of his tailor-made city suits, the type he wore for fund-raisers or exclusive speeches, of which, in his new role as cardiac educator, there were many.
He continued to study his brother, a refined version of himself. Where Cole had inherited his father’s rugged, rangy looks, Trevor had the luck of their mother’s delicate features blended in with the coarse Montgomery genes. Mom’s DNA might have cut a couple inches off Trevor’s height, making Cole a truly “big” brother, but the good looks and confidence his little brother possessed had sure worked wonders in life, and especially with the ladies. Always had. Being six years older than Trevor, Cole had never felt particularly close to the kid, even though his brother had always looked adoringly up to him. Was it any wonder they’d both become doctors? Yeah, Dad sure loved that, too. He ran his hand over his short hair, noting Trevor had let his grow out a bit more, maybe at Julie’s request? Who knew the influence a woman could have over a man.
He sure didn’t. None of his relationships had ever come close to love or commitment. He blamed it on his job. His single-minded quest to improve cardiology, to take mitral-valve replacements to a new level. His success. His laziness? Or maybe it went all the way back to being fifteen, when Hailey Brimley, the first girl he’d ever loved—and the girl he’d literally broken his neck for—had taken one look at him all banged up with rods sticking out of his skull and walked out of the hospital never to come back. He’d risked everything for young love and she hadn’t been able to get past how he’d looked in that damned halo brace. Yeah, there was that link to accomplishment, or lack of, even back then. Whatever the reason, at forty, he was a single guy with zero prospects for true love, and watching his brother get married forced him to think about his own circumstances. Well, guess what, that was how he liked it. Single. Unattached. Sorry, Victoria, but that’s the truth. Busy with his career. He cleared his throat and straightened the knot of his silk necktie. At least that was his side of the story and he was sticking with it.
His father, Tiberius, stood to the right of Cole as the couple took their vows. With one hand on the carved wooden walking stick—since he’d chucked his clunky quad cane for the ceremony—his father was decked out in his finest Wyoming duds, including his prized Stetson, which he’d removed and held with his free hand for the duration of the ceremony. Cole noticed something he hadn’t seen in years: a contented smile on his father’s face. He’d personally stopped seeing that look when he’d shown off for a girl at the high school rodeo and had broken his neck. Twenty-five years ago. Or maybe it was when he’d flat out told his old man he never wanted to be a stinkin’ cattle rancher. But today was a day of celebration, and Cole didn’t want to focus on the past. So he shifted his gaze once again, and looked to the future.
James, Julie’s son, grinned as if he knew the world’s biggest secret and was about to share it. Personally, the thought of raising a teenager, or any kid, in today’s world made Cole shiver inside, but since the boy’s happiness was palpable and proved to be contagious he joined in and smiled. Why not? He was at a wedding. His brother’s wedding.
The couple pledged their unending love and kissed, and soon the crowd of twenty broke out in a cheer. Cole applauded and gave his nearly forgotten rodeo whistle, adding to the noise reverberating off the circular silo walls.
Though it was a special day for Trevor and Julie, Cole felt somehow uninvolved, holding back to himself. Truth was he didn’t have a clue what to expect filling in at the Cattleman Bluff Medical Clinic, which, thanks to his brother’s extended honeymoon and family-bonding trip, would take up almost his entire summer. Cole had taken a leave of absence to accommodate their trip. As he’d known in his gut, it was time to step up for the family.
The couple had waited until the school semester ended for James before they got married, thus the mid-June wedding. They planned a weeklong honeymoon in Montreal while James went back to LA with his great-aunt Janet. The week after that they’d go out to LA to pick up James and to take in some tourist sights, then they’d all come home and head off on a monthlong road trip around Wyoming, camping, hiking, fishing, horseback riding, anything they felt like doing, but most of all bonding. That was the word Trevor had used over and over while telling Cole his plans. He didn’t know the whole story since he and his brother had hardly had a minute together before the wedding, but Trevor and his son sure had a lot of lost time to make up for.
The wedding party had moved on to the second champagne toast, and everyone suddenly looked towards Cole. He hadn’t given a single notion to what he should say, so he thought quickly. “I want to wish the bride and groom as much happiness as our own dad and mother had in their marriage. Love doesn’t run any deeper than that. Cheers!”
Cole caught a glimpse of his father’s tearing eyes as the man raised his glass and toasted new love along with everyone else, while most likely remembering the loss of his own. His dad had fallen apart when Mom died from cancer. His life had literally stopped, and, though he’d tried to pick up the pieces over the past several years, his health had never been the same. That kind of love scared the hell out of Cole. Was that what Trevor was setting himself up for, too? Another good reason for Cole to stick with his current life trajectory.
Bittersweet moments clogged his throat, and he didn’t have a clue why that tended to happen much more often when back home. He didn’t like it—those deep feelings, the kind that ripped at a person’s heart. Maybe that was why he preferred his hundred-mile buffer zone, living out in Laramie half the time and in Baltimore the other, except whenever he was on the road, which seemed to be close to 80 percent of the time lately.
He took another drink of champagne. Staying put for two months in the house he’d grown up in, seeing the continuing disappointment and blame in his father’s milky, aging eyes, and sensing the lingering love from his mother would prove to be a challenge. How long before he and his father finally had it out?
The old man’s health was failing; he grew weaker by the year yet still insisted on running the ranch. Cole couldn’t very well blast him with accusations and force an apology, could he? Damn, he needed more champagne.
When everyone else was joining in with the celebration, laughing, cheering, making a racket, Cole slipped a little farther back from the crowd.