by Judy Duarte
Forever and always.
Epilogue
It was a warm, bright August afternoon—but what made the day even more special is that Clay and Alana would be married in less than twenty-four hours. They’d chosen to have an outdoor wedding at Rancho Esperanza, and Clay couldn’t think of a better place to recite their vows in front of their family and friends.
He’d just walked away from the copse of weeping willows down by the pond, where Alana’s friend Marissa was instructing the party-rental guys where to set up the white gazebo and the chairs. Marissa was the one who’d suggested that Alana host weddings on the ranch, so she was eager to show them all what she had in mind.
She’d be here early tomorrow morning, too, and would be telling the florist how she wanted the flowers to adorn the gazebo. She’d be meeting with the baker, as well.
Clay had no more than reached the front yard when a white Cadillac Escalade pulled up and parked.
His steps slowed as he watched his father get out of the SUV. He was dressed, as usual, in his finest Western wear and carried the same high-end satchel he always took to business meetings.
Needless to say, his dad had been surprised to learn that Clay was getting married, and even more so to find out that Alana was pregnant with his first grandson. But those were only two of the many surprises Adam Hastings had received recently. The first was the news that Clay wouldn’t be returning to Texas and the family would need another attorney. The second, and maybe most disconcerting, was that the proposed plan to build a state highway in this area had been postponed indefinitely. As luck would have it, the governor uncovered a couple of corrupt supervisors in the state transportation department, one of whom was his father’s old college roommate.
“You’re a day early,” Clay told his dad. “The wedding’s tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know. But I thought I’d come by and bring you a wedding gift so I can give it to you in private.”
“Should I call Alana outside?” Clay asked. “Or would you rather go in the house?”
“Let’s go inside. I’ve got something for the baby, too.”
Once he’d learned that he was going to be a grandfather, Adam Hastings seemed to have softened. Or maybe he’d decided to turn over a new leaf after he’d barely escaped being linked to his buddy, the corrupt supervisor. Either way, he’d apologized to Alana for being so...forceful. And he promised to be more thoughtful in the future. Somehow, Clay wasn’t so sure it was in his nature, since he did tend to lean more toward being what Alana had considered a pompous jerk. But Adam Hastings didn’t apologize often, and he’d seemed to mean it.
Clay led him to the house. “I’m not sure what your plans are, Dad, but you’re welcome to stay with us.”
“I don’t want to put you out, Clay. You two have probably got a lot going on today and tomorrow.”
“True. But the offer stands.” Clay opened the door. “Honey, my dad’s here. And he’d like to talk to us.”
Alana came out of the kitchen wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a lime green top that molded to her belly. Her baby bump seemed to have doubled in size this past month, a sign that everything was going well, just as the obstetrician assured Clay at each of the checkups he’d attended.
“Hi, Mr. Hastings.” Alana greeted his father with a warm smile and a forgiving heart. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? I also have some blueberry muffins.”
“Maybe later,” his old man said, as he took a seat in the easy chair. “But I’d really like it if you’d consider calling me Dad, or even Adam, if you prefer. When I hear Mr. Hastings, I look around for my own father.”
“All right,” Alana said, “...Dad.”
Clay was a bit surprised at his father’s easy acceptance of Alana, but if there was one thing his father admired, it was a person who couldn’t be bought—even if his dad was the one waving the cash in front of them like a carrot.
“By the way,” his father said, as he turned his attention to Clay, “did they ever find those guys who assaulted you and robbed you blind?”
“As a matter of fact, the sheriff, Brandon Dodd, got a description of the men from Carlene Tipton, who owns the market. And he made an arrest last week.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
As Alana and Clay sat next to each other on the sofa, Dad reached into his briefcase, pulled out a paper and handed it to them. “First of all, this is for you.”
“What is it?” Clay asked.
“The deed to the ranch I bought a couple of months ago. I quitclaimed it to you and Alana. It’s the ranch I bought from Olivia McGee.”
“Wow,” Alana said. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Mr. Hastings. Oops. Sorry. I mean, Dad. I just didn’t expect something so...huge. And so valuable.”
“Seems only fair that you end up with that woman’s property, especially after she tried to take yours away from you.”
The man had a point. Olivia had cut a sweet deal when she’d sold her property, and she’d hoped to score big again when she’d contested Jack’s will in an attempt to take possession of Rancho Esperanza. But that hadn’t worked out in her favor.
“Besides,” his old man added, “you wanted to be a rancher, Clay. So now you have room to double the spread.”
Clay reached over and took Alana’s hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze and joining them together as a team. “Thanks, Dad. We appreciate that.”
“I’ve also started a college fund for the baby at Fairborn Savings and Trust,” Dad added. “It’s never too early to think about higher education. Who knows, he might want to go to law school.”
As far as Clay was concerned, his son could be anything he wanted to be, follow any path he chose. All he wanted was for the boy to be healthy and to grow up to be an honest man of integrity.
“Now, then,” his father said. “I do believe I’m ready for that cup of coffee. And I’ll top it off with a muffin.”
As Alana and Clay got to their feet, Clay slipped his arms around her and brushed a kiss on her brow.
“Thank you,” he said.
Her head tilted slightly to the side. “For what?”
“For being so sweet, generous, kind and forgiving. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I can’t wait to make you my wife.”
Then he kissed her, long and deep, letting her know that he’d always have her back.
Today. Tomorrow. And always.
* * *
Look for Marissa’s story, the next installment in USA TODAY bestselling author Judy Duarte’s new miniseries Rancho Esperanza
On sale June 2021
Available wherever Harlequin books and ebooks are sold.
Keep reading for an excerpt from His Secret Starlight Baby by Michelle Major.
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His Secret Starlight Baby
by Michelle Major
Chapter One
Cory Hall approached the man who’d just exited the darkened bar, trying not to be intimidated by his size and strength. He was well over six feet tall with an athlete’s build, the body of a former NFL star.
In the dim glow of the streetlamp overhead, it was hard to make out his features, although she knew his dark hair was shot through with streaks of burnished gold, the kind of natural highlights that pro-athlete wives and girlfriends spent gobs of money to re-create in the salon. Cory could see that his angular jaw was muted by several days of stubble, and the canvas jacket he wore strained to envelop his massive shoulders.
He turned back toward the door without noticing her. At this point in her life, she was used to being invisible,
so that wasn’t a surprise.
“We’re closed,” he said, his voice reverberating in the quiet of the hour. So he’d noticed her after all. He didn’t bother to turn from the door he was locking. Either Jordan Schaeffer didn’t expect trouble late at night in a small town like Starlight, Washington, or he wasn’t worried about handling himself.
It could be either option. Yet Cory was about to dump a whole heap of trouble into his life that might make him wish he’d taken more care.
She certainly would have made different choices if someone offered her a do-over on the past few years. More care with her heart and a sharper focus on what she wanted her life to look like. Instead, Cory had let the people around her dictate her choices and her self-worth, and they hadn’t given a single damn about her. Now she was ready to begin again at twenty-seven years old. There was only one thing that mattered—her baby—and she’d do whatever it took to be the mom he deserved.
After a quick glance over her shoulder at her grandmother’s old Buick, which was parked at the curb, Cory swallowed and took another step forward.
“Hey, Jordan.”
His hand stilled on the set of keys he held, and his broad back went stiff. For a moment Cory didn’t think that he recognized her voice. A spike of panic zinged across her middle at the thought he might not even remember her.
They hadn’t exactly parted as the best of friends.
A bitter wind whistled along the empty street, and she hugged her arms tight across her body. She’d left her big coat in the car when the anticipation of this meeting left her drenched in sweat. The late-March temperature was cool but not frigid, not like the biting cold of her hometown in Michigan. This part of Washington, an hour east of Seattle in a valley at the base of the Cascade Mountains, had appeared both temperate and picturesque when she’d driven in earlier this afternoon. In fact, it seemed perfect. A quaint, quiet place to start fresh.
Cory needed a fresh start like she needed her next breath.
Jordan went back to locking the door, and if it weren’t for that initial rigidity and the tension currently radiating from him, Cory might have thought he hadn’t heard her greeting.
When he turned, she realized what a fool she’d been—nothing new there. Jordan’s pale green eyes blazed with an emotion she couldn’t name, although it definitely wasn’t friendly. Not that she expected a warm welcome back into his life, although she had to admit, in the two and a half days it had taken to drive halfway across the country, her mind had wandered down the path of silly fantasy more than once.
She fisted her hands, the sharp pain of nails stabbing into the flesh of her palm a much-needed reminder to stay grounded in reality. Cory was in Starlight to take care of business, not to indulge in ridiculous daydreams. Single moms didn’t have time for that sort of nonsense.
“How are you?” she asked, clearing her throat when the words came out on a croak. She tried for a smile. “It’s been a minute.”
“What are you doing here?” He pocketed the set of keys and rocked back on his heels. His eyes raked over her in a way that left her wishing she hadn’t forgotten her flat iron back in Michigan. Or had she deserted that particular styling tool when she’d taken off from Atlanta? She hadn’t given much thought to making herself look pretty in what felt like ages.
“I was...um...in the area, and I thought I’d stop in and say hi.” She gave a limp wave. “Hi.”
Jordan stared at her like she’d lost her mind.
“I didn’t know if you’d remember me.” She pushed away a stray lock of hair that blew into her face. “I’m sure you want to—”
“I remember, Cory.” His voice was a deep, angry rumble. “I remember everything.”
She swallowed. “Oh. Okay, well, that’s good. I think.” She gestured to the bar he’d exited minutes earlier. “You own this place, right? It looks nice.” She inwardly cringed at her inability to stem the tide of inane babble pouring from her mouth. She wasn’t here for pleasantries but couldn’t quite bring herself to get to the point.
“It’s after midnight.” He ran a hand through his thick hair. She still couldn’t see its true color, but it was longer than he’d worn it when he’d played football in Georgia. Untamed and a bit wild, much like the man himself.
“Right.” She took a slow, steadying breath. “I need to talk to you, Jordan.”
“I got that.”
“It’s about what happened when you left.”
“From what I saw on ESPN, Kade got one hell of a contract offer. Forty million for four years. He got it all. You both got exactly what you wanted.”
She winced at the accusation in his voice, even though she deserved every bit of judgment and condemnation Jordan Schaeffer could dish out. “Kade and I aren’t together,” she said, as if that explained everything when it was only the tip of the iceberg.
“Not my concern, Cory. In fact, right now my only concern is getting home and into bed for a decent night’s sleep. I wish you well in whatever you choose for life after Kade Barrington, if you’re telling the truth about that.”
“I never lied,” she said, trying and mostly failing to keep the pain out of her voice. Trying and completely failing to stop an image of Jordan asleep in bed from filling her mind.
“You went back to him.”
Cory sucked in a shaky gulp of air, because she could have sworn she heard an answering pain in Jordan’s tone. That couldn’t be possible, because...
“After you took off.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. “You left without even saying goodbye.”
He laughed, a harsh scrape across her fraught nerves. “Sweetheart, we barely said hello.”
Oh no. He wasn’t going to do that. Not now. Not after everything Cory had dealt with in the past year. She might have had only one night with Jordan, but it had meant...something. To her, it had turned out to mean everything.
Her gaze darted to the gas guzzler her grandmother had given her before she died last month, and Cory was tempted to walk away. She could climb back in the car, spend one night in the local inn where she’d rented a room and be on the highway by first light.
Then she looked at him again, at those unique eyes she saw staring back at her every day, and realized she had to see this through. If not for herself, then for her baby.
“We said plenty,” she told him, straightening her shoulders. “We did plenty. Enough that I have a six-month-old son in that car.” She hitched a finger at the Buick. “You have a son, Jordan.”
* * *
Jordan stared at the little boy gazing up at him from his mother’s arms for several long seconds, then resumed pacing back and forth across the scuffed hardwood of Trophy Room, the bar he owned.
His mind continued to race at a thousand miles an hour, and adrenaline pumped through him so hard he thought his head might actually explode. Jordan had grown up an athlete. He could handle adrenaline. On the football field, he’d loved the spike of heat through his veins. It meant he was ready for action. He was in control. It didn’t matter whom he was facing in the lineup or what the stakes were, from his chance at a college scholarship to a national championship to a televised playoff game.
He rose to meet every challenge and welcomed each new opponent, unwavering in his faith that determination and dedication would see him through.
Cory Hall had nearly felled him with four simple words.
You have a son.
Of course he remembered her. The thought that he could forget the sweet, beautiful woman who’d been the girlfriend of Jordan’s jerk-wad quarterback was preposterous. She was different from a lot of the other girlfriends and wives on the team. She didn’t seem to care much about the trappings of the lifestyle, only about keeping Kade happy, which turned out to be no easy task.
Jordan had played with Kade Barrington in Atlanta for two seasons and had been
more than a little shocked that a woman like Cory could be so devoted. Kade had talent in spades, but he’d been released from the team that drafted him out of college due to his inability to get along with the coaches and other players.
He landed in Atlanta with an attitude and something to prove. He and Cory had rented a big house in an expensive neighborhood, and Kade had loved to throw huge team parties. Cory had never seemed all that comfortable in big groups, which was how she and Jordan had ended up talking late one night out by the pool.
Their talks had become a bright spot in his otherwise dark life. Then he’d been injured and hadn’t seen her for months. Until the night she showed up at his condo after breaking up with Kade. She’d asked to sleep on his sofa, and he still believed that was what they’d both intended.
It wasn’t what had actually occurred.
“I’ll arrange a paternity test if you want,” Cory offered, her voice quiet. She’d changed from how he remembered her in his mind. Her dark hair was shorter, just skimming her shoulders. Her slim build, rosy lips and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose remained the same. But there was something different about her deep brown eyes. They were guarded now and looked world-weary, as if she’d seen things and experienced feelings that changed her at a cellular level. Somehow it made her even more appealing.
He’d barely been able to speak after she dropped that bombshell on the sidewalk. A part of him, the shadowy fragment that never planned to become a father, had urged him to send her away.
Jordan had a good life in Starlight. He liked the town and the people living in it. He liked owning a local watering hole and had worked hard to elevate Trophy Room from a dumpy dive bar to a popular hangout for locals and visitors alike. His existence was simple and straightforward, and he worked hard to keep it that way.
