Ava looked chagrined and nodded. “You’re right. It’s not my business to tell anyone else how to organize their life. Stella, I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
It wasn’t even a question. “Of course,” Stella said, grateful she hadn’t alienated the first women she’d hoped to be friends with in so long, she couldn’t recall.
“Oh, good.” Ava perked right back up.
They all paused as a young waitress arrived with their plates. Once the food was settled and they’d all dug in, Kit restarted the conversation.
“Stella, we may not say it very well, but we do care a lot about you and the baby. And if you need anything, or want to talk about options for the future, we’re here.”
“And we promise to listen instead of lecturing,” Ava added with a warm smile.
Stella kept her gaze on her sandwich, with its specially ordered avocado slices, and tried not to cry.
“Okay?” Kit asked quietly.
Stella pasted on a bright smile. “Yes. Definitely okay. But I do have one question.”
Kit and Ava looked at her encouragingly.
“Does anyone have a rubber band? Because I think my jeans just split wide open.”
With the laughter that followed, Stella felt for the first time in her life as if she really was part of something. Not an onlooker or a visitor or a consultant, but a member. Of that special club Nadine had called “the Beckett girls.” If only it weren’t so temporary.
12
Over the next few weeks, Stella integrated into life on the farm. Once she had the irrigation system up and running, Scout asked her to handle getting bids for an addition to the barn. Then she’d found paperwork on a charity for which her grandfather had been a board member. She’d called to make sure they knew he’d passed away, and they’d asked if she could serve in his place for a few months. The agricultural education organization worked with kids without the family resources to have land, crops, and animals. Now Stella found herself helping design programs for kids to learn about agriculture and animal husbandry.
Between the farm projects, the volunteer projects, and organizing her grandfather’s things, Stella found her days full and productive.
Then there were the nights. Most nights, Scout came over after he was finished with work. They ate dinners together, working to do as they’d promised—getting to know one another. And slowly, one night at a time, Scout became a regular in Stella’s bed. By the time her second trimester was midway through, Stella knew she was in trouble. She was getting attached to Scout, she liked him, felt comfortable with him, and she could tell he would be a great father.
“You want one of those smoothies again, sweetheart?” Scout yelled from the kitchen one morning.
Stella paused as she pulled up the leggings with the maternity panel in the front. She was still able to get by with loose tops and dresses, but the four pairs of maternity leggings she’d borrowed from Ava had been lifesavers. She slipped on a flouncy mini-dress over the leggings, then a pair of cowboy boots, and headed out of the bedroom.
“I’ll drink it, but I’m craving bacon, too. Do we have any left?’
Scout began rummaging as she walked into the kitchen.
“Somewhere in here…” he muttered with his head in the fridge. “Here!” He popped out holding the package of bacon triumphantly.
“You’re the best,” she cooed, leaning in to kiss him as he turned to the stove to cook the bacon.
He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her as close as he could with her stomach between them. “You look hot,” he murmured, running his lips down her neck, bacon forgotten.
“I look big,” she responded, tilting her head to one side to give him more access.
“No way. I remember Ava when she was this far along. She could have given a cruise ship a run for its money.”
Stella laughed at his disrespect and slapped at him playfully. “Stop that, or I’ll tell her what you said.”
He grimaced. “Please don’t. I’m scared of her.”
“We’re all scared of her,” Stella confirmed.
As Stella ate breakfast, Scout turned the discussion to the day’s plans as he usually did. Stella had noticed he liked to know where she’d be throughout the day. She’d thought it would feel intrusive or controlling but had quickly realized it actually felt safe and comforting.
“So you’re spending the whole day at the Crops for Kids office?” he asked, pulling his cup of black coffee closer.
“I’m stopping off at the bank first to give them that paperwork they want for the sale of the land to Lonny’s brother. Then I’ll be at the offices until about four.”
He nodded. “Okay. I have a meeting with a rep from the USDA to start our annual inspection process, but I should be done with everything by four. You want to have dinner here, or go into town?”
She smiled at him, already anticipating seeing him at the end of the day, ready to cozy up and watch Netflix with some popcorn and ice cream.
“Let’s stay in,” she told him, wiggling her eyebrows.
“I like the way you think, woman.” His voice was rough, his gaze hot. “I’ll grab some ribs at Ernie’s after my meeting so we don’t have to cook.”
With kisses that were hotter than a Texas summer, Stella left Scout at the farm, a smile on her face and a spring in her step.
* * *
It was a little after noon when Scout’s phone rang. He growled in frustration as he tried to hold the fencing wire in one hand and reach into his back pocket with the other.
“I got this, boss,” Lonny said, reaching around the fence post they’d just reset to grab the wire Scout was holding.
Scout nodded his thanks and stepped away, looking down at the phone he’d managed to retrieve. The number wasn’t familiar, but he felt obliged to answer it now he’d gone to all the trouble.
“Hello?”
“May I please speak to Scout Beckett?”
“This is he,” he answered, cursing silently that he’d interrupted what he was doing for some damn telemarketer.
“Mr. Beckett, this is Nina Wallace at County General Hospital.”
Scout’s irritation turned to anxiety in a heartbeat.
“We wanted to let you know that there’s been an accident involving Ms. Steadman—”
In that split second, in the space between the words the caller had said and the words to come, Scout’s entire world changed. No longer was he a young, healthy man with a promising career and a loving family. No longer was the farm he’d been trying to purchase for six years foremost on his list of life goals. No longer did anything else under the sun matter but Stella and that baby. That baby he hadn’t even asked for but God had seen fit to give him. Please don’t take them back, his mind pleaded. Please don’t take them back.
“…She’s here, and we’ve checked her in. There’s been some bleeding…”
Scout’s head began to swim. The sun was too bright, the air too hot. He missed words. He gasped for breath.
“…keep her for observation overnight…”
His hands began to shake. He couldn’t hold onto the phone. As it dropped from his hand, he saw someone catch it from the corner of his eye. But he was too busy bending over, hands on knees, trying to fucking breathe.
“…Yes, I’m a family friend. I’m with him right now. I’ll take care of it, and if you could tell Stella, we’ll be there as soon as possible. Thank you.”
Scout desperately sucked in another ragged breath, his vision clearing somewhat.
He felt Lonny’s hand on his back. “Take it easy, man. Slow breaths. You got this. She’s okay. But I’m going to take you to see her. Come on. Truck’s right over here, just keep breathing, we’ll take it real slow.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, Scout watched the landscape roll by out the window of the truck as Lonny drove just fast enough to show he knew this was an emergency, but not fast enough to get pulled over.
“You feelin’ better?�
�� Lonny asked.
Scout cleared his throat and turned to Lonny for a moment. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey, I don’t blame you one bit. If I’d gotten a call like that about Desiree or one of the kids, I’da had a damn panic attack, too. But you gotta’ believe it’s all going to be okay. Keep sending her those good vibes, and we’ll be there in a few minutes.”
When they finally pulled up to the hospital, Lonny drove into the ambulance bay where the ER entrance was. “I’m going to drop you and get back to the farm for your appointment with the USDA guy.”
Scout’s head throbbed. “Oh, shit—”
“Nope,” Lonny said with a grin. “Not a word. I got this. And I called Hunter and Bran. The cavalry’s on its way. You just get in there and give your pretty lady a big kiss.”
Scout climbed out of the truck, then turned to face Lonny. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said.
Lonny reached out a hand, and they clasped palms for a moment. “No thanks needed, just bring our girl home. We all really like having her around.”
Scout nodded, shut the door, and jogged into the hospital, his heart beating in time with his prayers.
13
“So the heartbeat is strong, but this trauma has caused some contractions. We don’t want that to continue, and the best way to achieve that is lots and lots of rest.”
Scout watched the monitor with the image of the baby and the little fluttering flash in the center of his chest. Yes, his. Even at five months, there was no mistaking what was between those tiny legs. The little guy had obligingly turned himself butt up toward the camera, and Scout had worked not to whoop with pride.
Stella squeezed Scout’s hand as she lay on the bed, her hospital gown lifted as the doctor moved the wand over her belly.
“You just tell me what I need to do to take care of her, and I will,” Scout vowed to the doctor.
The doctor, the same one who had called Scout after Stella’s car accident, smiled. “If you’ll promise to make her behave, I’ll let her out of here in the next couple of hours instead of tomorrow morning. She needs to be put to bed, served lots of healthy food, and not let up for anything but bathroom and shower breaks for at least a week. We’re going to want her back here in seven to ten days to check on everything. In the meantime—” The doctor turned her gaze to Stella’s. “If you continue having contractions, or they get worse, or you have any other unusual symptoms—pain, fever, vomiting—I want you back here in the ER stat. Okay?”
Stella nodded, her expression one Scout wasn’t familiar with.
The doctor put the ultrasound machine away and tucked the sheets back around Stella. After she’d left, Scout rolled his stool closer to the head of the bed, keeping Stella’s hand in his.
“Hey,” he said, caressing the hair at the crown of her head. It was the first time he’d been able to speak to her alone since he’d arrived. He craved touching her, knowing logically she was fine but needing to prove it to himself. To run his hands over her hair, her skin, her belly. “Are you really okay?” he asked.
She gazed at him, her blue eyes tired and scared. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“No.” He gave her a hard look and a tender caress on the cheek at the same time. “None of that, now. The deputy who came to the accident was waiting outside when I got here because he was worried about you. He told me exactly what happened. You weren’t being reckless, you just didn’t know that turn was blind. You know how many people have hit that pole coming around that turn?”
She shook her head, tears still hovering in her eyes.
“It’s a dangerous stretch, but the county doesn’t have the money to fix it, so all of us who’ve lived here forever know it’s there, and then someone passing through, or a new teen driver, will hit it once every three months or so.”
“When the airbag went off, I thought for sure it had…” she stopped and swallowed, and all Scout could think was to climb right up onto the bed with her. He pulled her into his arms, one hand on her belly, and just held her, murmuring words of comfort. He knew what she’d thought. It was the same thing he’d thought when he got the phone call. Amazing how something that hadn’t been planned could become so important in only five months.
“I’m so glad you’re both okay,” he whispered into her soft hair. She clung to him, and for a few minutes, they silently held one another, listening to soft sounds from the hallway outside, both saying their private thanks that things hadn’t gone terribly wrong.
“My car?” she finally asked, her head comfortably relaxed on his chest.
“The deputy said he’d called the tow service to get it out of the way. But that airbag went off. I don’t want you driving that car anymore.”
He felt her stiffen. Which was good. It meant she was feeling better. “The doctor said bed rest for a week. I’m not going to be locked in the house for the next four months. That car only has sixty thousand miles on it, and I’m going to need—”
He chuckled. “Slow down there, cowgirl.” She glared at him, and he grinned in response. “I didn’t say you shouldn’t drive, just that I don’t want you driving a car that’s been that damaged. I’ll drive your granddad’s old pickup, and you can drive my truck. It’s got four-wheel drive and one of the highest safety ratings on the road. It’ll be like wrapping the two of you in a solid steel blanket.”
She made some sort of grumpy noise, then settled back on his chest.
“Eventually, I’ll need my own car again,” she told him. For some reason, that produced a bitter sensation in the back of his throat.
But he didn’t want to upset her right now, so he let it go. “That’s fine, but for now, this solution will work. After you’re off bedrest, of course.”
“Of course,” she muttered.
Then the door swung open, and Ava’s head popped in. “Are you all up for visitors? The doctor came out and said it was okay.”
“Of course,” Stella answered, “tell everyone to come in.”
As both his brothers, their wives, and Cam came in, Scout stepped aside and watched. He was grateful, for sure, but something else was brewing inside of him, and he could tell it was big, and frightening. Maybe as frightening as the thought of losing Stella and the baby.
* * *
Stella was going to lose her mind. Four days into her bedrest, she wanted to pummel something—or someone.
“How are you doin’, sweetie?” Jean Anne said as she walked into the bedroom carrying a lunch tray.
Stella closed the lid on her laptop and set it aside.
“I’m going crazy,” she said. “I swear, if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to end up one of those women who talks to little dolls and dresses up their dogs.”
Jean Anne shook her head and laughed softly. “Oh you precious thing. Here.” She set the tray across Stella’s lap. “You need to drink the smoothie—that was Scout’s order—and have some of this sandwich. Why don’t I sit and keep you company while you eat?”
“Please,” Stella said gratefully. “You can talk about anything. Paint drying would be more interesting than my morning.”
“I thought Scout had given you all sorts of books and crosswords and things to do?”
Stella held her smoothie up, looking at it suspiciously. “He did…” She set the glass back down and picked up the sandwich instead, curling a lip when she saw it had spinach on it.
“Don’t blame me,” Jean Anne advised, watching Stella’s reaction to the food. “I’m just following instructions. That boy has an entire list of things I’m supposed to give you to eat and drink and do. I’ve never seen a man fuss so much as he does over your health.”
Stella couldn’t help the smile then. It was silly, but she’d never once thought she wanted someone to care about her well-being. No one had, with the exception of about the first five years of her life. But then Scout had started making her eat right, and get enough sleep, and take safety precautions, and lo
and behold, it felt nice. Like he really did want her to be safe and healthy.
Oh, she knew it was just because she was pregnant, but it was still nice. He was still nice.
“But I’m right,” Scout said from the doorway. “So y’all had better listen to me.”
Both women rolled their eyes, then smiled at one another.
“Well, it looks like your entertainment has arrived. I’m going to clean up that kitchen and then put a load of laundry in before I go for the day. You make sure and tell me if you need anything else before then.”
“Thanks, Jean Anne,” Scout said, giving her one of his trademark charming smiles.
“Thank you, Jean Anne,” Stella echoed as Scout came and sat on the edge of the bed next to her.
Jean Anne closed the door behind her, and Stella found Scout turning that same smile on her.
“You’re bored,” he said.
“Ohmigod so bored.”
He laughed and took a bite of her sandwich.
“Honestly, Scout,” she whined. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t sit in this bed one more day. I can’t.”
“Sshh, sshh, hon,” Scout laid his fingers over her lips. “I know it’s hard. But I am so proud of you. You’re doing this for our baby, and you’re taking such good care of him. You’re already the best mom I know.”
Stella’s heart contracted. Mom. She didn’t feel like a mom. And she wasn’t sure what being a mom entailed. She hadn’t had much of a model.
“Thanks. I think that might be a bit of an exaggeration.”
“Nope. My momma raised me right. I never lie.”
She laughed and took a bite of the sandwich as he held it out to her.
“But I have a suggestion for something you could do to keep busy.”
She sat up a little straighter. “You definitely have my attention.”
Scout held out the smoothie next, and Stella dutifully took a sip.
“Well, Bran pointed out to me that it took Ava months to order all the stuff for their daughter, Janelle. Cribs, bassinets, changing tables, clothes—I guess—I mean, babies need some sort of clothes, right?”
Wrangling His Pregnant Cowgirl: Beckett Brothers Book Three Page 7
