The Rancher's Expectant Christmas. Karen Templeton
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horse came close enough for her to sweep her fingers across her sleek muzzle, for the mare to “kiss” her hair. Same sweet nature as her mama, too, Deanna thought, chuckling for a moment before releasing another sigh.
It hadn’t been all bad, living out here. Boring, yes. Stifling, definitely. But as quickly as she’d acclimated to—and embraced—living back east, there’d been more than the occasional bout of feeling displaced, too. Even if she’d never admitted it. She’d missed riding, and the sky, and the deep, precious silence of a snowy night. Greasy nachos at the rodeo every fall. The way the mountains seemed to watch over the plains and everything that lived on them. The way everyone kept an eye out for everyone else.
Josh.
She spotted him, working a sleek chestnut gelding in the distance, as homesickness spiked through her, so sharp she lost her breath.
Homesickness, and regret. Choking, humiliating, taunting regret.
Shivering, Deanna wrapped up more tightly in the giant shawl she’d scored for ten bucks at that thrift store near her apartment—
Crap. She had no idea where she belonged anymore, although here certainly wasn’t it. Here was her past, which she’d long since outgrown. But her life there, in DC, had collapsed like a house of cards, hadn’t it? All she knew was that she’d better figure something out, and soon, before this little person made her appearance. Kinda hard to bring a baby home if you weren’t sure where home was.
Still caressing the mare’s sun-warmed coat, Deanna looked out toward the other horses grazing the frosted grass, their coats gleaming in the strengthening morning sun as bursts of filmy white puffed from their nostrils. Then she started as she realized Josh was headed her way. His own breath clouding his face, he came up beside her, digging into his pocket for a piece of carrot for the mare.
“I see you two have already met.”
Deanna drew back her hand, wrapping up more tightly in the shawl. “She’s Starlight’s, isn’t she?”
“Yep.”
“What’s her name?”
“Starfire. One of the best cutters I’ve ever ridden. Her babies should fetch a pretty penny. This one’s already spoken for, in fact.”
“When’s she due?”
“Late January or thereabouts.”
After a moment, Deanna said, “So she actually gets to carry her foal to term?” and Josh softly chuckled. She knew many “serious” breeders only used their prize mares to jumpstart an embryo, then transplanted them into surrogates. She supposed in some ways it was less stressful on the mare that way, but it’d always seemed to her so...callous. Like the horses were only things to be used.
“Not to worry. Your daddy would’ve killed me, for one thing. Not to mention my daddy. No, we do things the old-fashioned way around here,” he said, stroking the mare’s shiny neck. “Don’t we, sweetheart?”
The horse nodded, the movement knocking off Josh’s hat.
“Hey!” The horse actually snickered, making Josh shake his head before scooping the hat off the ground.
Deanna smiled as Josh smacked the old Stetson against his thighs to knock off the dust, then rammed it back on his head. “She looks so much like her mama it’s uncanny.”
“You seen her yet?”
“Ohmigosh—she’s still here?”
Something like aggravation shunted across Josh’s features. “Until the day she crosses over. Why would you think she wouldn’t be?”
“Because I’d told Dad to sell her, since I wouldn’t be riding her anymore. At least, not enough to warrant keeping her. But he kept her anyway?”
Leaning back against the fence, Josh folded his arms over his chest, releasing another little puff of dust from his well-worn barn coat. “He came to talk to her every day. Sometimes twice a day, until...well.” A small smile curved his lips. “To tell her all about what you were doing. I even caught him showing the horse your picture on his phone once.”
“Get out.”
“Of course, then he got all embarrassed when he realized I’d seen him.” The smile grew, even if it didn’t quite catch in his eyes. “Your father was crazy, I hope you know.”
This said so gently, and with so much love, Deanna’s eyes burned. But before she could recover, Josh said, “I know why he sent you away, Dee. Or at least, I can guess. And no, he never talked about you all that much afterward. But when he did...” Looking away, he shook his head. “It was obvious how much he loved you.” His gaze met hers again. “How much missed you—”
“You mind if we don’t talk about this right now? About Dad?”
His cheeks pinking slightly, Josh straightened, turning to look out over the pasture. “Sorry. I’m not real good at this.”
“At what?”
“Social graces. Knowing when to keep my trap shut. I hear this stuff in my head—” he waved in the general direction of his hat “—and it just falls out of my mouth.”
“I remember,” Deanna said quietly, then smiled, not looking at him. “I think that’s why we were friends.”
“Because I have no filter whatsoever?”
“Yes, actually.” She let their eyes meet, and her heart thudded against her sternum even harder than the baby kicking her belly button from the inside. “Because I knew you’d always be straight with me. Because...because you never treated me like the boss’s daughter.”
Confusion flitted across his face for a moment until he punched out a laugh. “Oh, trust me, I always treated you like the boss’s daughter.”
Now it was Deanna’s turn to flush. Partly because she got his drift, partly because she’d had no idea there’d been a drift to get. Or not, in this case.
Another subject she didn’t want to talk about, one she’d had no idea was even on the table until thirty seconds ago. However, at this rate they’d have nothing left to discuss except the weather, and wouldn’t that be lame?
“Didn’t mean to abandon you,” he said, and her head jerked to his again. “A little bit ago. For breakfast?”
“Oh. Right. It’s okay, Gus took over. As Gus does. Although I ate so little he threatened to hook me up to an IV.”
“So much for eating for two.”
“Yeah, well, one of the two has squished my stomach into roughly the size of an acorn. Not to mention my bladder. Anyway, I assured him that since I’d eaten everything that wasn’t nailed down in my second trimester I doubted the kid was suffering.”
Josh’s gaze lingered on her belly for several seconds before he turned to prop his forearms on the top rail. “So how long are you here?”
“Not sure. A couple of weeks? I figured...” Deanna cleared her throat, then clutched the fence, stretching out her aching back. “I figured,” she said to the ground as she willed the baby to shift, “there’d be...” Standing upright again, she met Josh’s gaze. “There’d be things to discuss. Handle. Whatever. So I left my ticket open-ended. Long as I’m back the week before Thanksgiving, I’m good.”
“And what happens then?”
“Among other things, an all Mahler concert at the National Symphony I’ve been looking forward to for months. But also an installation at my gallery. Well, not my gallery, but where I work. Young Japanese painter. I...” Her face warmed. “Through a weird confluence of events, I sort of ‘discovered’ him. This will be his first US showing, so we’re all very excited...and your eyes just glazed over, didn’t they?”
“That’s the clouds coming in, they said