Holden glared at his cousin over his shoulder before hurrying down the stairs.
“You both need a family of your own, which makes this baby perfect,” Shane continued.
“Nothing about my situation is perfect.” There was serious frustration in Holden’s statement. He didn’t wait for Shane to make sense of the undertones. He stomped across the lobby and out the door. “This has never been perfect.” Meaning his relationship with Bernadette. He’d always wanted more time with her, more dates, more nights spent talking till dawn. But his life—his stress-filled, anxiety-laden life—had gotten in the way.
Sophie waved at him from her boutique across the road. Like Grandpa Harlan, she’d taken the curve life had thrown her and found her happy place.
Shane followed him onto the porch. “Can I ask why you’re wearing blue jeans to confront Tanner? It’s because he’s a cowboy, isn’t it? Do you think he’d be less likely to negotiate with a stuffed shirt? Of course you do. You always did know the best way to make things happen.”
Holden gritted his teeth. Lately, he couldn’t make anything happen. He couldn’t make an old horse behave, keep his son on a path to success or convince the woman he loved to marry him.
Holden came to a dead stop at the bottom of the porch stairs. “I love Bernadette.”
“Everybody knows that.” Shane slapped him on the back as he passed by, moving toward his Suburban.
But I didn’t.
Holden stared down at his hand-me-down boots, stared up at the pine-tree-lined skyline, stared across the road at the medical clinic, which was located in a small log cabin. His feet weren’t shod in Italian leather. The skyline wasn’t filled with skyscrapers. And the place he wanted to call home didn’t offer any of the luxuries he was used to: a doorman, smart appliances, neighbors who’d made something of themselves and knew that he’d done the same. Suddenly, his life seemed so shallow.
“Are you coming?” Shane called from the driver’s seat.
Holden got into the vehicle. “Talk to me about this guy.” Talk so that Holden wouldn’t have to realize that his accomplishments were empty, and that he had nothing to offer his second child or the woman he loved. No job, no income, no plan for the future. He wanted to pull Bernadette’s note out of his pocket and read it again, just to trace the bold lines of her handwriting. He wanted to go back to Standing Bear and replace the word care for the word love when trying to tell her how he felt. He wanted to fill his grandfather’s boots—love deeply and be a success in whatever endeavor he pursued.
Shane dutifully reiterated what he understood, or thought he did, about Tanner Monroe Paxton. “You know, I’ve always been able to shake things up, while you’ve always been able to piece things together. We make a good team.”
Holden stared out the window at the blue sky, noting the absence of smog and jetliners. “Are you trying to apologize for the competitive acts in our past?”
“Never.” Shane chuckled. “Looking back, those days with Grandpa Harlan are some of my fondest memories. The fact that we were each vying to lead a pack of Monroes just makes it that much more interesting. After we took our places in different Monroe companies, I never thought of you as my competition.”
“Liar.” Holden wasn’t falling for that.
Shane shrugged, turning down a narrow, pothole-filled lane. “What does it matter? Neither one of us is going to fill Grandpa Harlan’s shoes and run his companies now.”
Holden’s gaze dropped to his grandfather’s boots.
“Here we are.” Shane slowed down as they approached a small house next to a large, fenced pasture. “Sophie has been slowly clearing out the vacant houses and cabins, and Roy’s been fixing them up since we’ll be renting them out soon. We thought it best to put Tanner up in one a bit out of the way.”
“And by doing so, you validated his claim,” Holden murmured. He would have made Tanner pay for a room at the inn.
Shane turned off the engine. “I thought it was more like keeping my enemies close. He’s just a few minutes away.”
“You could argue that, too.” But Holden wouldn’t. He got out of the car and walked toward the tired brown house where a cowboy who looked to be in his thirties stepped out on the porch, followed by a small boy of about four or five and a toddler girl with dark, curly hair.
“You must be Holden. I’ve been waiting to meet you.” That said, Tanner didn’t come down the stairs to greet him. “I expected to see you drive up in a luxury car and be wearing a suit and tie.”
“I think you’d agree that’s not practical attire for the mountains,” Holden said, mustering a polite smile.
Shane had said that Tanner resembled their grandfather, but Holden couldn’t see it. Tanner had classically chiseled cheekbones, a strong chin and dark hair. But other than his coloring, did he have the look of a Monroe? No.
The little girl sat on a porch step and played with a doll, crooning softly while rearranging the doll’s dress and smoothing her hair. The boy had moved to the front yard and was throwing a lasso with more passion than technique at an upended trash can.
“Daddy, is this our house?” the little girl asked.
“Yeah, can we stay?” The boy struggled to coil the rope for another throw.
Shane cleared his throat, scowling at Tanner, who didn’t answer.
A gray truck that had seen better days was parked nearby. It had four doors and a full back seat. That is, the back seat was filled with suitcases and stuffed black plastic bags, as if everything Tanner owned was stored there. Holden swung his gaze back to the man on the porch. “Where’s your wife?”
“Dead.” Tanner didn’t elaborate, but that one word communicated so much desperation, emptiness and loss.
Kind of like the way I feel inside thinking of a lifetime without Bea.
Love and loss. Those two concepts made a man willing to do anything to reclaim or rebuild the life and things that had made him happy before. Willing to swallow his pride? Willing to start over in a new place? Willing to stretch the truth when it came to a tenuous family connection?
Yes, Tanner was desperate, if coolly so.
The old Holden, the ice man, would have moved the negotiation to numbers, making an offer that was worth far less than one-thirteenth of the gold and the value of this run-down property. An offer made to entice the desperate cowboy to disappear. The old Holden hadn’t realized he had a heart until Bernadette had shown it to him, and his anxiety attack had warned him that ignoring his heart wasn’t wise.
“Holden?” Shane said under his breath, a cue for him to begin negotiations or intimidation tactics or...something.
Holden wasn’t feeling it. There was something important going on in his brain. Some serious thinking that he knew would impact the decisions he made from this day forward. Decisions that didn’t involve Tanner Monroe Paxton.
Holden had lived a life of excess and wealth, and where had it taken him? Here. To Idaho. To what he’d thought was rock bottom. But maybe this was where he needed to start over. To do things guided more by his heart than numbers on a spreadsheet.
“There’s nothing to discuss here.” Holden turned on his heel and headed back for the Suburban.
“What?” Shane was right behind him, talking in hushed tones. “Offer to buy him out.”
“Not yet.” Holden settled into the passenger seat, staring at the scene before him, at a cowboy and his two young children, who had next to nothing. He didn’t feel vastly different from them.
Shane started up the engine with too much gas. The Suburban roared to life. “And here I thought—”
“You should never negotiate when emotions are high.”
“You mean me.” Shane blew out a breath, backing up and turning around.
“I mean Tanner.”
Shane scoffed. “He was cool as a cucumber.”
“He ha
dn’t unpacked a thing. He thought we were there to throw him out and maybe throw him a check.”
“Which would have gotten rid of him.”
“Not likely. Kids need stability. And...” Holden stared at the thick pine trees as they passed by. “Grandpa Harlan always told us to take care of our own. What if Tanner really is a Monroe? Would you regret how we treated him and how that impacted those kids?”
“I haven’t pressed for a DNA test,” Shane admitted.
“Do it. Order a kit.”
Shane scrubbed a hand over his forehead. “Okay. If he agrees, what do we do while we wait for the results?”
“Let Tanner stay and get comfortable. You never know. He might settle for that little piece of property they’re staying in.”
“But—”
“Shane, can you be quiet? I need to think.” About his next negotiation.
The one with Bernadette.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“HOPE AND HAZEL are adorable, Laurel.” Bernadette held Hope, one of the twin girls she’d helped deliver a week ago.
She and Laurel sat on the couch in the medical clinic, each holding a baby, each with their feet propped up on the coffee table. Outside the window, summer sunlight glinted off the jagged Sawtooth Mountains.
“Your baby will be adorable, too,” Laurel reassured her. “Thank you for taking such good care of me and the girls during my pregnancy. I wouldn’t have carried them so far to term if not for you.”
“Sure, you would have.” The sweet thing in Bernadette’s arms squirmed and stretched her legs before settling down with a contented sigh. “But I appreciate you saying it.” Because Bernadette was still angsting over Dr. Duntsch.
“I’m sorry my cousin didn’t see what or, rather, who was right in front of him, namely you, a wonderful woman, Dr. Baby Mama.” Laurel giggled before pressing a kiss to Hazel’s forehead. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Devin called you that before you left on your motorhome trip. The truth is that you deserve all the happiness in the world. And if it’s not Holden that gives it to you, it’ll be someone infinitely better.”
“I don’t need a man to complete my happiness, you know.” Just a little baby like this. And perhaps the memory of love when she was lonely. Better to have loved and lost...
It wasn’t better at all. It had broken her heart all over again to end things with Holden. But it had to be done. He needed to find himself in order to get healthy. And he’d never been happy or comfortable in Second Chance.
He was happy in Standing Bear.
Her cell phone rang. It was Eric. She moved Hope into her lap in order to answer the phone.
“You’re ignoring me,” her lawyer chastised. “We need to give the buyer an answer, Dr. Carlisle.”
“I have until Monday. It says so on the offer.” It was still Friday. Just hours ago she’d been happy in Standing Bear. “I don’t want to accept his terms.” The baby in her arms fussed, most likely upset at Bernadette’s tone.
“We can counter, maybe come down a little from our asking price.”
Bernadette grimaced at his words. And she shouldn’t. Eric was supposed to have her best interest at heart. She should take his advice. It was just... Dr. Dunce!
“Will a counteroffer buy me any more time? I’m still hoping someone else wants my practice.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to rip off the bandage if you know what’s coming, Doc.” Eric wouldn’t make a good doctor. He lacked sensitivity.
“A medical metaphor, Eric?” Bernadette tsked, but it was a playful tsk designed to please the baby in her lap. “That’s my line.”
“Doctors never like to take their own advice. Even baby doctors.” He hung up.
Bernadette sighed, settling back into the couch and bringing the baby close.
“Problem?” Laurel asked softly.
“I’m hoping it’s just a bump in the road.” Bernadette fussed with Hope’s blanket and then stroked her wisps of dark hair. “How can I complain about anything when I’ve got this little blessing in my arms?”
Laurel rubbed Bernadette’s shoulder. “I’m here if you need to talk.”
“I appreciate that.” Bernadette blinked back unexpected tears. A change of topic was in order. “So, you’ve rescheduled your wedding to Mitch for tomorrow.”
“We wanted the girls to be home before we tied the knot. It kind of solidifies the family, don’t you think? All of us present and accounted for. Me, Mitch, Gabby, Hope and Hazel.”
“Yes, it’s very sweet.” A sign to everyone of their love. “Is your sister still in town?”
“Are you kidding? She’s not leaving, nor is her fiancé Wyatt.”
Why did it feel like everyone was getting married but Bernadette?
You know better than most that you don’t need a partner to have a baby, Dr. Carlisle.
“You’ll come to the wedding tomorrow, of course.” Laurel was back to cooing over Hazel.
Bernadette had been invited to the first ceremony, but the twins had decided to be born on Laurel’s wedding day. “Of course I’ll come.” Unless she couldn’t bring herself to see Holden once more.
A heart could only take so much.
* * *
DEVIN WASN’T IN their hotel room when Holden returned to the Lodgepole Inn.
He came downstairs and stopped at the inn’s check-in desk, which was currently manned by twelve-year-old Gabby. “Have you seen Dev?”
She closed the book she’d been reading, tossed her strawberry-blond hair over one shoulder and appraised Holden the way Bernadette appraised everyone they came across. She was a future doctor in the making. “He went out.” She plopped her elbows on the desk and her chin on her fist. “He doesn’t know I exist, does he?”
“He does,” Holden said kindly, because the girl had alerted the family that Holden wasn’t feeling good last weekend. She hadn’t exactly saved his life since he hadn’t had a heart attack, but she was the one who’d stepped in when his body felt haywire and he’d started to panic and told him to breathe. “But, Gabby, besides the fact that you’re too young for him, he lost his heart to another girl.”
“Oh.” Gabby sagged in her seat.
Holden reached across the desk and tweaked her nose, which surprised them both since Holden wasn’t normally a nose tweaker. “Someday, honey, the right guy will come along, and you’ll be glad you didn’t settle for Devin.”
She brightened. “Really?”
Her father Mitch appeared in the doorway behind her. “She’ll be thirty when that happens.”
“Dad.” Gabby pulled a face.
“It’s okay, Gabby.” Holden headed for the door. “I was thirty-eight when it happened to me. Sometimes love is worth waiting for.” And worth fighting for. Holden hurried outside. He had the rudimentary foundation of a plan to win this relationship negotiation with Bernadette. But he needed Devin.
His next stop was the general store. It was run by a young, energetic brunette, whose name was MacKenzie. She was bagging a couple’s purchases, but Devin was nowhere in sight.
“We’re headed north to Yellowstone,” the woman said to MacKenzie before Holden could ask if the clerk had seen his son. “Do you have any recommendations about where to stop between here and there?”
“Standing Bear Silver Mine,” Holden blurted. “It’s about two hours up the road. They offer a tour of the mine and the original Old West town. It’s interesting, and they also have horseback riding.”
The couple thanked him and headed out.
“Do tourists ask you for recommendations often?” Holden asked MacKenzie.
“All the time. I’m sure they ask next door at the Bent Nickel Diner, too.” She smiled at Holden warily and, he supposed, deservedly. On previous occasions in the store, he’d looked down on the operation and her, unfairly comparing it to his beloved neigh
borhood grocery in Manhattan. “Can I help you find something?”
“Just my son.”
“I think he went toward the diner earlier.”
He thanked her and hurried to the Bent Nickel. Devin sat at the counter, drinking a coffee and looking a good three years older.
Holden slid onto a stool next to him. “When did you start drinking coffee?”
“Just now.” Devin mustered a half-hearted smile. “Your cousin Cam gave me a latte.”
“Oh, no. Doctors drink their coffee black.” Holden shook his head. “Come on.”
“Where?” Devin stared into his latte.
“I’m taking you to the airport in Boise. The sooner you get back to Boston, the sooner you can rest up for the summer session.” And the sooner Holden could put his plan to win Bernadette back in place.
“No.” Devin stuck his chin out. “Frankie needs me. And Myrna does, too.”
Holden washed a hand over his face. If someone had told him a week ago that his son would put his medical dreams on hold for a girl, he wouldn’t have believed them. “Listen, son, life is all about compromises. You can’t have it all. You can’t do it all. And you sure as heck can’t be in two places at one time. You have to choose where you want to go.” He stopped short of telling Devin he was still a minor and he didn’t have the power to make those decisions. He filled his lungs with air and his head with words of caution. Only then did he start again, trying to make Devin come to the sensible conclusion. “You know...up until a few days ago, you wanted to go to MIT.”
Devin frowned. “That was before...”
“Dev...” Holden lowered his voice, gentled his tone. “You can’t save Frankie and reach for your dreams.”
His son’s chin came up. “But I can make a difference in her and Myrna’s lives if I take a gap year.”
Forget about talking quietly! “You didn’t graduate early from high school just to take a year off before college!”
Caught by the Cowboy Dad Page 21
