His Wyoming Baby Blessing. Jill Kemerer
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When she’d arrived, he’d been sweeping the floor, muttering about rodent droppings. He’d been younger, full of energy and ambition.
She peeked at his profile. Some things never changed. He was still full of energy and ambition.
When she was younger, she’d considered Wade her knight in shining armor. Still did. But he was all wrong for her. She’d known it then. She knew it now.
He was into building a ranch empire.
She was into raising a family.
The two concepts didn’t gel where he was concerned. Ranching would always be his love, his priority. Kit had closed the door on any fantasy of being with him. Then she’d locked it, thrown away the key and bricked it over for good measure.
Wade was too attractive inside and out for her to revisit youthful fantasies.
How many times over the years had he told her he didn’t see himself ever getting married?
Looking out over the land, she realized it had been years since she and Wade had really talked. After her wedding day, she’d felt it was inappropriate to keep texting and calling him, so they’d drifted apart, exchanging birthday cards and not much else.
She’d missed him. His friendship had been her lifeline until marrying Cam. And here Wade was extending his friendship again.
“I’m sorry, you know.” She kept rocking.
“For what?”
“For not keeping in touch better.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. Would have been weird with you being married and all.”
Her chest grew tight. He understood. Most guys wouldn’t have.
“Well, I’m sorry just the same. Why don’t you fill me in on all I’ve missed? You were pretty tight-lipped about how you came to own this land. Do you own more, too? What have you been doing for the past couple of years?”
A shadow crossed his face and he narrowed his eyes as he stared off into the distance. “I always had my sights on this acreage, mainly because the man who owned it, Jackson Poff, didn’t have kids to pass it down to. I figured it gave me a chance to negotiate, so I struck up a friendship with him.”
“Wade!” She widened her eyes, tilting her head. “You used him?”
He flashed a grin. “No, Kitty Cat. I was up front with him from day one. I rolled up in my truck, introduced myself, told him I loved his land and planned on buying a portion of it someday. Then I offered to help him feed his cattle. He spat on the ground and told me to take a hike, but not in such friendly language.”
She couldn’t help it—she laughed.
“The next morning, I showed up again and told him how I admired his pastures.” He pointed to the right. “That section there to be precise. I asked him what his plans were for the day, and he told me he was checking fence and for me to take a hike—once more, not in such friendly language. I ignored him and helped him fix fence. For six months I came over every day after I’d taken care of my small cattle operation. And we became good friends. I told Jackson I wanted to buy some of the land when he retired.”
“And he obviously retired.” Her head rested against the back of the chair, and she relaxed for the first time in a long while. Wade’s low, mellow voice soothed the rough places inside.
“No.” He dropped his head. “I wish that’s how it had gone.”
“What happened?”
“He died. It was sudden.”
Poor Wade. It sounded like he’d really enjoyed Jackson’s company.
“And you bought this after he passed?”
He shook his head. “I would have. But I didn’t have to. He gave it to me. All of it. Almost eight thousand acres. The house, the cabins, the outbuildings, the cattle—everything. Even his substantial savings. I still can’t believe it.”
“Wow.” She couldn’t imagine anyone doing something so generous. “No one contested it?”
“Nope. Jackson didn’t have any next of kin.” His eyebrows furrowed. “He made everything possible for me. I likely never would have been able to afford to purchase this entire ranch. I’d hoped I could buy a slice of it—and I had no illusions about the fact I’d need a huge mortgage—but his generosity made it a moot point.”
“So how much land do you own altogether, then?”
He told her about Dudley Farms, as well as a few smaller properties in the southern part of the state he rented out for pasture.
“I’m impressed.” She savored a deep breath of the fresh air. The fact Wade’s dream had come true warmed her soul. “You made it. You did everything you said you were going to do.”
“I haven’t made it.” He flashed her a confused glance. “Not by a long shot.”
“What do you mean? You own thousands upon thousands of acres and run your own cow-calf operation here, as well.” Wasn’t all this enough for him? The thought of being responsible for so much land gave her a headache.
“Yeah, well, I put Dudley Farms up for sale.”
“Why?”
“Doesn’t matter.” From his tone, she’d say he wasn’t happy about it. “I hope it sells soon.”
“If it doesn’t?” The warmth of the air and the rocking motion made her eyelids heavy.
“It will.”
“When will you have made it?” she asked lightly.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I told you you’d made it, and you said not by a long shot. How do you define making it?”
He didn’t answer.
She yawned. He’d probably never be done acquiring properties. And since he hadn’t married, she could confidently assume his conviction to stay single still held true. Exactly why she’d been wise to brick that wall over her heart all those years ago.
His priority was ranching. Her priority was her unborn child.
Exhaustion took over. She’d never been this tired in her life. She couldn’t fight it any longer. She gave in to sleep.
* * *
Wade flipped pancakes the next morning in his kitchen. Tendrils of steam rose from his mug of coffee next to the griddle. The floor felt cool beneath his bare feet. Wearing athletic shorts and an old rodeo T-shirt from his friend Nash’s bull-riding days, he inhaled the smell of batter and told himself for the eighteenth time that morning he’d done the right thing.
Earlier, he’d called his real estate agent and canceled his appointment. Ray had sounded shocked, and Wade didn’t blame him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d backed out of an appointment.
When will you have made it?
Kit’s question last night had caught him off guard. Then when she’d fallen asleep with her dark eyelashes fanned across her cheeks, he’d watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, her hands still cradling her stomach as if she could keep the baby safe, and something had tumbled inside him.
She’d looked like the girl who’d grabbed his hand the day he’d arrived at the foster home where she’d been living. Full of excitement, she’d said, “Come on! I have something to show you!” And she’d dragged him through the never-ending backyard, past the sheds, beyond the horse pasture to a sliver of a creek. She’d crouched down, pointing at the water gurgling over the stones. “See them?”
“See what?” He’d crouched, too, somewhat mesmerized by her pretty green eyes and long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.