One Night with the Cowboy

by Brenda Harlen

  “I love you, Brie.”

  “Last night, when we were snuggled up in bed, I didn’t ever want this weekend to be over,” she confessed. “Now I can’t wait to go back to New York.”

  His brows lifted. “I just told you I loved you and you responded by telling me that you’re leaving.”

  She smiled. “I love you, too. But I’m eager to get back to pack up and prepare for our life together here.”

  “You’re sure about this? You’re not going to change your mind again when you’re in New York?”

  “I’m not going to change my mind,” she promised. “When you assumed I’d move back to Haven so that we could raise our baby together, I dug in my heels to prove that I was in charge of making my own decisions.

  “But just because me moving back to Haven is what you want doesn’t mean it’s not my decision, too. Because it is what I want, more than anything.”

  “That makes my next decision easier,” he said.

  He eased away from her then and reached for his jeans. After pulling them on, he walked over to the table and reached into the bag he’d packed with their lunch.

  “Did you decide that we can have pie before sandwiches?” she asked hopefully.

  But when he turned back around, she saw that it wasn’t a food container in his hand but a plush toy.

  “You once told me that a teddy bear was a gift,” he reminded her.

  “I remember.” She accepted the offering, her fingers sinking into the shaggy, soft fur. “Oh, Caleb. He’s adorable.”

  “He?” he asked, amused.

  “Well, his name is Teddy,” she pointed out.

  “Well, he’s a gift for you. And this—” he tugged on the end of the blue satin ribbon around the bear’s neck, releasing the bow and the stunning two-carat diamond solitaire ring it had secured in place “—is a promise.”

  She swallowed. “That’s a heckuva promise.”

  “I want you to be my wife, Brie. I want you to live with me and raise a family with me, and for us to spend every day of the rest of our lives together.”

  For a man of few words, he’d somehow managed to put all the right ones together. As happiness filled her heart to overflowing, she felt compelled to remind him: “We’re already married.”

  “But, as you pointed out a few weeks back, I never actually proposed,” he said, and dropped to one knee. “So I’m asking you now, Brielle Channing—will you stay married to me, for today and all the rest of our tomorrows?”

  “It’s Brielle Gilmore,” she said, smiling. “And yes, I will stay married to you, Caleb Gilmore. Forever.”

  And they sealed their promises with a kiss.

  Epilogue

  Brielle gave her notice to the principal of Briarwood Academy when she returned to New York after Thanksgiving. Her resignation was effective in the New Year, allowing her to move back to Haven at the start of the Christmas break. Five months later, she didn’t have any regrets.

  Sure, there were some aspects of life in the big city that she missed—including the variety of restaurants that allowed her to eat any kind of food she wanted without having to cook it. But under the patient tutelage of Caleb’s grandmother, she was trying different recipes and learning to cook new things—including Evelyn’s famous pot roast. And she sometimes missed her friends, though she kept in regular contact with Grace and Lily.

  She was a little disappointed that, despite her incessant pleas, her former roommates had yet to make the trip west. She understood that they both had busy lives, especially now that Grace had been promoted from editorial assistant to assistant editor and Lily had added volunteering at a local retirement community to her schedule, and she tried to be satisfied with frequent, if irregular, FaceTime communications.

  But her life with Caleb was everything she’d always imagined it would be, only better because it was real. She fell asleep in his arms every night and woke up with him every morning.

  It was only in the past few weeks that she’d started to feel bored and restless. The baby’s room was ready: the walls and trim freshly painted, the furniture delivered and set in place. The change table was stocked with all the essentials, and the dresser contained a modest selection of tiny onesies and footed sleepers.

  They hadn’t gone overboard buying a lot of stuff because they still didn’t know the sex of their baby, having decided—after much debate—to wait and find out in the delivery room. Of course, everyone in town had an opinion one way or the other. Frieda Zimmerman said she could tell by the way Brielle was carrying that it was going to be a boy. Judy Talon argued that the roundness of her belly suggested a girl. Jo Landry said boy; Sheila Enbridge said girl. Sky and Macy both voted boy; Regan and Alyssa put tallies in the girl column.

  Caleb chimed in only to suggest that he wouldn’t mind if the Gilmores added a boy to the roster, just to even things out a little—especially since his sister Kate had recently confirmed that she and the sheriff were expecting their second child and already knew Tessa was going to get a little sister.

  Brie just hoped the question would be answered soon. Though there were still five days until her due date, she felt as if she’d been pregnant forever and was eager for their baby to be born.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, when Caleb scooped his keys off the counter one Saturday morning late in May.

  “Out,” he told her.

  She frowned at the uncharacteristically vague response. “Out where?”

  “I’ve got an errand to run.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “Not this time,” he said.

  She pouted. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m picking up a surprise for you.”

  Her mood immediately lifted. “What kind of surprise?”

  He shook his head. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

  “I guess not,” she admitted. Then, “How long are you going to be gone?”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re supposed to be at The Stagecoach Inn by four o’clock for the surprise baby shower.”

  He winked. “Just remember to act surprised.”

  “I’ve been practicing for weeks,” she said.

  Her sister was the one who’d slipped and told her about the shower, though Regan argued that it wasn’t really a slip because no one had told her that the event, cohosted by the grandparents on both sides in an effort to prove to the expectant parents that they could—and would—get along, was supposed to be a surprise.

  “Good.” He bent to brush a quick kiss over her lips. “I’ll be back by three.”

  “Back from where?” she asked.

  His only response was a chuckle as he made his way to the door.

  * * *

  She’d thought she would have to pretend to be surprised, but when Brielle walked into the restaurant and saw Grace and Lily were there, her surprise was real. As were her tears of joy when she hugged them—as best she could around her enormous belly.

  She wanted to spend hours catching up with her friends, but this was a baby shower, which meant there was food to be eaten and gifts to be opened. One of the leather wing chairs from the hotel lobby had been brought into the room for the expectant mother, and Brie happily sank into it, then wondered if she would ever be able to get out again.

  While she chatted with various guests, her gaze skimmed around the room and her heart filled with happiness to see so many of her family and friends gathered together. Even Gramps was in attendance, and currently in conversation with Dave Gilmore—who had recently gotten engaged to Valerie Blake.

  “How are you holding up?” Caleb asked, setting a plate of finger sandwiches on the table beside her chair.

  “I’m doing okay,” she said. “Just trying to anticipate who’s going to draw first blood.”

  He chuckle
d. “I don’t think you need to worry—everyone seems to be on their best behavior.”

  “That’s what’s making me nervous.” But she turned her attention to the plate he’d brought for her and frowned as she perused the offerings. “I don’t see any of the little cupcakes.”

  “Dinner before dessert,” he reminded her.

  “Are you going to be this strict with our baby?”

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  She smiled, excited to know that it wouldn’t be too much longer before they’d have a chance to do exactly that. “Yes, we will,” she agreed.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” She picked up a peanut butter and banana pinwheel sandwich and took a bite. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’re holding your back.”

  “Am I?” She dropped her hand away. “I didn’t realize I was, but I guess I have been having some twinges.”

  His brows lifted. “Contractions?”

  “Twinges,” she said again.

  “Maybe we should call your doctor.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “But maybe...”

  “What? Tell me what you need. Anything.”

  “One of those little chocolate cupcakes would be nice.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Did you just play me?”

  She smiled sweetly. “And one—no, two—of your grandmother’s pineapple squares.”

  And after her sweet tooth was satisfied, at least for the moment, they turned their attention to the mountain of presents.

  There were practical gifts—an infant carrier, a baby swing, an exersaucer, a portable play yard; fun gifts—a soft elephant that rattled, floating bathtub toys, a musical night-light; and keepsake gifts—a silver spoon, a picture frame, a set of Bunnykins.

  There was also a quilt from Kate and Reid, handmade by a deputy in the sheriff’s office, and a coupon for five hours of free babysitting services from Ashley—who promised she’d babysit whenever they wanted but was clear that, after the first five hours, it would cost them.

  Grace and Lily gave an adorable onesie with a graphic depicting the New York City skyline and a trio of yellow baby carriages in lieu of the city’s infamous yellow cabs, along with a gift certificate for Pink Olive—Brie’s favorite shop for unique baby gifts in Brooklyn—with the stipulation that she had to bring the baby to New York for a visit so they could all go shopping in Park Slope together.

  When all the gifts had been unwrapped, Caleb helped her to her feet—because standing up wasn’t an easy task when she was carrying an extra twenty-two pounds in the shape of a beach ball at her middle—so that they could thank their guests.

  “Wait—there’s one more present,” Margaret said, gesturing for Spencer and Jason to bring it forward.

  Her brothers approached with the last and very cumbersome gift. Although a blanket had been draped over it, Brie could tell, by its shape and size, that it was a cradle.

  “Who’s it from?” she asked, because there was no card attached.

  Her mother’s soft smile surprised Brie as much as Margaret’s response: “Your grandfather.”

  She searched the room until she found him, standing at the back, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. So she turned her attention back to his gift, pulling away the blanket to reveal elegant lines and a glossy finish.

  A long time ago, before the birth of his first child, Jesse Blake made a cradle. And each of his children—including Brie’s mother—slept in that infant bed. Years later, it was tucked away in the attic at Crooked Creek Ranch, where it remained until Dani found it while exploring the dusty storage area.

  To Brie’s knowledge, her grandfather had never made another cradle. He’d occasionally puttered around with other things—bookcases, coffee tables, storage units—until his arthritis got so bad that it was painful to hold his tools.

  And yet, he’d created this for her baby.

  No, not just her baby—hers and Caleb’s baby.

  The same frustratingly stubborn man who’d refused to apologize for interfering in her relationship with Caleb nearly eight years earlier had gifted them with this beautiful heirloom. Was the cradle a way of saying he was sorry without using the words? Was it proof that he was willing to not only accept their relationship but celebrate their child?

  “Gramps, this is incredible.” She stroked a hand over the side rail, painstakingly sanded to a satin-smooth finish. “When did you find the time to do this?”

  “Here and there,” he said, with a shrug that suggested it was no big deal.

  But Brie knew it was a big deal, even before Kenzie said, “He’s been working on it, almost nonstop, since Thanksgiving.”

  “Tattletale,” Gramps grumbled.

  Caleb’s hand tightened on hers when Jason pulled the cover all the way off to reveal the name that had been carved in the headboard: GILMORE.

  She shifted her gaze and saw the same surprise and pleasure she felt reflected in her husband’s expression. The tears that she’d made such a valiant effort to hold in check refused to be held any longer as she breached the distance to her grandfather.

  “Thank you.” The whispered words were wholly inadequate, but they were the most she could manage through a throat tight with emotion.

  He responded by hugging her with a fierce strength that belied his years and attested to the love in his heart.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and when he finally released her, his eyes were a little misty, too.

  He turned then, and Jesse Blake offered his hand to his granddaughter’s husband, and Brie knew the day couldn’t be any more perfect.

  Then her water broke.

  * * *

  Ten hours later, Colton Jesse Gilmore entered the world with an indignant squall. His exhausted parents cried right along with him, overjoyed that finally they were a family.

  Look for the next book in

  award-winning author Brenda Harlen’s

  Match Made in Haven miniseries,

  Coming in 2020 from

  Harlequin Special Edition!

  And catch up with the Blakes and Gilmores:

  The Sheriff’s Nine-Month Surprise

  Her Seven-Day Fiancé

  Six Weeks to Catch a Cowboy

  Claiming the Cowboy’s Heart

  Double Duty for the Cowboy

  Available now wherever Harlequin Books

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from Their Inherited Triplets by Cathy Gillen Thacker.

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  Their Inherited Triplets

  by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Chapter One

  “What are you doing here?” Lulu McCabe rose to her feet and gaped at the big, strapping cowboy with the wheat-blond hair and the mesmerizing gold-flecked eyes. Even with a good ten feet and a huge table between them, just the sight of him made her catch her breath.

  Sam Kirkland strolled into the conference room at their Laramie, Texas, lawyers’ office in his usual commanding way. He offered her a sexy half smile that warmed her from the inside out. “I could ask the same of you, darlin’.”

  With a scowl, Lulu watched as he came around the table to stand beside her.

  Clad in jeans, a tan shirt and boots, his Resistol held politely against the center of his broad chest, he was the epitome of the highly successful, self-made rancher. The way he carried himself only added to his inherent masculine appeal.

  Ignoring the shiver of awareness pooling inside her, Lulu looked him square in the eye. “So, you don’t know what this is about, either?” she guessed finally.

  “Nope.” He gave her a leisurely once-over, then narrowed his eyes at her, as always appearing to blame her for every calamity that came their way. “I figured you engineered it.”

  Anger surged through her, nearly as strong as the attraction she’d worked very hard to deny.

  Lulu drew a breath and inhaled the brisk, masculine fragrance of his cologne and the soapy-fresh scent of his hair and skin. Determined to show him just how completely she had gotten over him, she stepped closer, intentionally invading his space. “Why would I want to do that?”

  He held her eyes deliberately. Gave her that slow smile, the one that always turned her legs to jelly. “Honestly, darlin’,” he taunted in a low tone, “I don’t know why you want to do lots of things.”

  Really? He was going to go back to their last argument, claiming she was not making any sense? Again? Slapping both her hands on her hips, she fumed, “Listen, cowboy, you know exactly why I want to join the Laramie County Cattleman’s Association!”