Wrangling His Pregnant Cowgirl: Beckett Brothers Book Three

by North, Leslie

  “Well, the farm books. After you’ve paid everything and everyone, how much money did my grandpa typically take for his own expenses?”

  Scout stiffened. “What difference would that make?”

  “Well, I’m hoping that whatever he was living on is enough to supplement my contract income. I doubt Grandpa took a lot, but I can try to work with it, and maybe there’s a way to trade some childcare with Ava so I don’t have to pay for that when I need to work on my projects.”

  “But you’re selling the farm,” Scout said, clearing his throat awkwardly before he pushed back from the table. “To me.”

  Stella’s heart thumped hard against her ribcage.

  “When I was going to go back to New York—”

  “You agreed, you said you didn’t want to run a farm and you’d sell it to me at market value.” Scout’s eyes had taken on a coldness that made a shiver run through Stella.

  “But you want me to raise the baby here—”

  He stood and interrupted her at the same time, pacing to the kitchen counter and back as he talked. “Of course I want to raise him here, so I can see him and be part of his life.”

  “To do that, I need a home and a source of income.”

  He spun on her. “And you’ll have it. You said you’re going to keep getting contracts, and you can live here. Whatever other money you need, I can give you. Jesus, Stella, I’m not expecting you to pay for everything. He’s my kid, too.”

  She stared at him as she realized she didn’t really know him at all. It had only been three months. This had all happened so fast. Why had she assumed everything would be okay?

  Stella knew better than to rely on others. Other people left. Other people changed their minds. Other people forgot they’d promised to sew your quilt and left you high and dry. She couldn’t possibly agree to a plan where everything relied on Scout.

  “I know you mean well, but I can’t…” She swallowed, wishing she had never come home, never told him she was pregnant. Because now she’d gone and gotten attached, hoped for something she never should have hoped for. Damn him. “I can’t sell the farm to you if I stay here. I need something of my own I can rely on. A place to live. An income.”

  Scout’s hands fisted at his side, and she could see him struggling to maintain his composure. “I don’t think you understand, Stella,” he told her softly. “I’ve invested six years of my life into this farm. I did it because I love it, and I did it because I cared about your granddad. But I also did it because it’s my dream to own my own business. I’ve worked night and day for over half a decade to own my own place. And not just any old place—this place. Your grandfather knew that, and then he left you the farm anyway hoping I’d understand. You knew that and promised me you’d sell when the terms of the will had been met but now you’re reneging too.”

  “Scout.” Her voice was filled with so much regret, she saw him flinch.

  He shook his head sadly. “You stay, then,” he told her. “You stay, and you keep the farm. I’ll be here for the baby, but I no longer work here. I can’t.” His gaze was tortured. “I can’t be with you…or this place…anymore.”

  He turned and walked out the door, and Stella sat, stunned to her very bones, looking at the ruins of their dinner, in the emptiness that was now all hers.

  * * *

  Scout put his last suitcase in the bed of the truck and climbed into the cab. He could see the window of Stella’s room lit up, and it was all he could do to keep from storming in and demanding she do what he wanted—trust him. Trust he’d take care of her and the baby. Trust he’d run the business well. Trust he loved her. Because he did—and no, he hadn’t said it, but if she hadn’t figured it out by now, then he couldn’t imagine the words would make any difference.

  He started the engine and rolled out down the driveway, an ache settling in his chest. He’d already left a message for Lonny telling him he’d have to take over the day-to-day until Stella hired a new foreman. But as he turned onto the county road at the end of the drive and the farm sat silently behind him in his rearview mirror, it took everything he had not to damn weep. His heart, his soul, and his baby were back there, and what lay ahead was as dark and empty as the little two-lane road ahead of him.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of his family’s ranch. The place he’d grown up, the place he’d vowed he would never need again. Because needing his family had hurt when he was twenty-one and his parents had both died. It had hurt every time his parents or his brothers made him question their faith in him. It felt a lot better to be on his own, away from all the reminders, away from the expectations of two older brothers who always had it all together. Away from their looks of regret, much like the one Stella had given him, away from their looks of concern. Scout could put up with a lot if there was something he wanted, but he was a grown man and he’d be damned if he’d be talked down to as if he were a teenager again.

  The door to the ranch house opened before he’d even killed the engine. Bran stood on the front porch, squinting out into the darkness as Scout slowly climbed out of the truck. God. He’d never been so tired in his entire life. He felt like an old man.

  As he climbed the steps, Bran gave him a small smile and a nod. “You comin’ in for a bit?” he asked, glancing at the duffle bag in Scout’s hand.

  Scout cleared his throat. “I uh, know Cam’s got my old room…”

  Bran clapped him on the shoulder, but not too hard, then left his hand there as he led him inside. “Good thing the old guestroom is made up, then,” he said.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Scout ventured into the kitchen, hoping Bran had gone to sleep. His brother hadn’t asked questions, and Scout had been grateful.

  What he hadn’t counted on was Ava sitting at the breakfast bar in the dim light provided by the hood over the kitchen stove.

  “Oh,” Scout said, stopping in the doorway to kitchen, uncertain whether to move forward or back. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were still up.”

  She smiled softly, her hair in a messy knot on top of her head, a cup of hot tea in front of her. He caught the faint scent of peppermint.

  “The baby was up, and now I can’t go back to sleep. Hoping some tea might help.” She held up the cup. “How about you? Want some?”

  “Um, sure,” he answered. “I was just going to grab a sandwich or something.”

  Ava slid off the stool. “Have a seat.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Pssh. Stop. It’s not a problem.” She went to the refrigerator and started pulling out items.

  He sat in silence as she piled turkey, cheese, and lettuce on a hoagie with mustard then pushed it across the counter to him.

  She stood on the opposite side, her mug cradled between her hands. “You want to tell me what happened?”

  He shook his head with a bitter chuckle. “Not really.”

  “But you will anyway.” It wasn’t a question.

  Scout sighed and began the story of how he’d ended up with his entire life blown to hell. While Ava was usually a talker, she stood patiently and listened until he ran out of steam.

  “Well.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “You want to hear the other side of it now?”

  He cocked his head, confused by her meaning. “What other side?”

  She laughed softly, murmuring, “And that would be the problem.”

  He just watched her, chewing the smoky turkey and sharp cheddar, not sure what to expect next.

  “Look,” she began. “I know you care about her. I’m willing to bet you love her.”

  He looked away, the whole thing still too raw.

  “And I know you, so I know you’d always be fair and you’d take care of both her and your son. You’re a Beckett man, Scout. Those of us who know you guys have no doubts the kind of partner and father you’ll be. But you have to understand that Stella hasn’t known you her whole life. She’s crazy about you, but t
hat doesn’t change the fact she’s been asked to change her entire life in a way that you haven’t. And all for a man she’s known a few months and a baby she hasn’t met yet.”

  Scout felt defensive but also something closely resembling guilt. “I’ve been working to buy that ranch for six years, Ava. I took that place and turned it from barely breaking even to generating a solid profit in the last three years. I’ve lived in a one-room foreman’s cabin the entire time and driven the same truck so I could save up to buy the place. I ran it pretty much alone for the final eighteen months of George’s life, and I made sure he was taken care of on top of it all.”

  Ava skirted the end of the kitchen counter and put her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “I know,” she whispered in his ear. “And Bran is so damn proud of you. We all are.”

  Scout nodded silently. At last, she pulled away. Then she looked him in the eyes. “You’ve done everything you were supposed to, and now you need to do one last thing before you get your happily-ever-after—the girl, the farm, the baby, all of it.”

  He waited, his gut clenched in anticipation, as if Ava held the secrets to the universe.

  “Now you need to find a way to compromise.” She gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek and went back to bed.

  18

  It had been sixty-two hours and thirty-six minutes since Scout had left. Two nights and the day in between and now the start to yet another day. Stella had spent the first night crying, the second night stomping around the house furious, and the daylight hours staring at the back door, trying to will him into walking through it.

  Lonny had stopped by the first morning to tell her that he had everything under control and, if she had any questions, to ask. He’d looked at her sympathetically, then muttered something like, “He’s got an extra thick head” before he scurried back to work.

  Now she sat in the sunny window seat in the living room, listening to Kit try to talk cheerfully about the golden retriever she’d treated for swallowing a set of its owner’s underwear.

  “I guess you had to be there,” Kit finally said.

  “What? Oh God, I’m sorry,” Stella answered. “I’m a terrible friend, can you ever forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive, sweetie,” Kit told her reassuringly.

  Stella shifted and tried not to look out the window at the driveway that led up from the country road. A dark blue pickup rolled along toward the gate, and her heart leaped into her throat. Then it drove on by, and disappointment washed over her for the thousandth time in the last two days.

  “What if he doesn’t come back?” she finally asked. “What if he stays away until the baby’s born, and then we do that thing where we grit our teeth and hand over the backpack full of the baby’s things every Friday and Monday, and then in a few years, he meets some blonde who wears shirts with pearl snaps and rides in western competitions and knows how to two-step and he gets engaged and they take my son to Disneyland for his birthday and then he wants to spend all his time with his new mommy and—”

  Kit burst into laughter. “Slow down there, girl. Good lord, did you stay up all night dreaming that nonsense? You poor thing.”

  Stella felt heat wash over her cheeks. “I’m so miserable,” she finally admitted, tears rolling down her face. “I’ve been so afraid to need him. It’s why I couldn’t sell him the farm. But now I think it might be too late, anyway. No matter what I do, it’s not going to be right. I can’t win.”

  Kit stood and walked to the window seat, sat down next to Stella, and put an arm around her shoulders. “You sniffling, snotty-nosed pregnant women are more than the rest of us can take.”

  Stella laughed and wiped her eyes.

  “Listen up, now.” Kit gave her an extra squeeze. “I’ve known Scout a little longer than you—in a different way, of course—” Stella raised an eyebrow, and Kit laughed. “He’s a hard worker, and a kind person, and an honorable man. But I know you realize that deep down. And I know that doesn’t change the fact that you’re not comfortable leaving yourself with no job and no home and a guy who says he’ll handle it all for you. And you shouldn’t be comfortable with that. But you should be comfortable with him.”

  Stella shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

  “You guys act like this whole thing is either/or. Either you own the farm, or he does. Either everything gets done your way, or everything gets done his way. It’s one of you having all the control, and the other having none. Hunter and I haven’t been married all that long, but it’s been long enough for me to know that relationships don’t work unless everyone has their part and does their part. You deserve to have security that’s not dependent on Scout’s goodwill. But he deserves to have the independence he’s been working so hard for all these years, too.”

  Kit gave Stella a hug and stood. Stella gazed up at her friend, one of the first she’d had in a very long time. One she didn’t want to give up, just like she didn’t want to give up her grandpa’s home or the chance to raise her baby with Scout.

  “There is a solution to this, Stella,” Kit said smiling. “And if you two will stop making things either/or, you’ll find it.”

  Stella sat in that window seat for a long time after Kit was gone. The sun shone on her bare arms, and outside she could hear the sounds of the farm—cows, dogs, cowboys, machines. She heard the men her grandfather had trusted and the business he had built. She cared about it, she wanted it to do well, but she knew that wasn’t the part of him she most wanted to preserve. The things about her family and her grandfather that she loved were here, in this house, where she’d played, and learned, and slept. Where she wanted her child to do the same.

  And as the sun began to set, Stella finally understood what she needed to be happy and raise her baby. But even more importantly, she knew what Scout needed as well.

  * * *

  It had only been three days, but it felt like a lifetime as Scout stood on the front porch of the Steadman farmhouse and knocked on the door. He’d decided not to walk right in the back door the way he’d been doing for years. He couldn’t view it as his future house anymore. It belonged to Stella, who swung open the door and stood looking like an angel staring up at him.

  Her red hair was loose, and she was wearing a man’s white button-up shirt, several sizes too large so it stretched over her belly. The cuffs were rolled up, and the tails hung down over her skinny jeans. Her feet were bare, and he loved that she’d painted her toenails a silly shade of pink.

  “Hey,” he said, gazing at her like a lovestruck puppy.

  “Hi.” Her voice was breathy, and he wanted to scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom and then bury his face in all that soft hair before burying his cock somewhere else. But instead, he followed her into the house and sat down where she gestured.

  “Do you want something to drink?” she asked, looking nervous and beautiful all at the same time.

  “No, thanks,” he answered. She nodded and sat on the other end of the old leather sofa George had loved.

  “How are you? Are you feeling okay? No more contractions or anything?” He thought she would have told him if anything was wrong, but he wasn’t sure.

  “Everything’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but the baby is fine.”

  “Good,” he nodded, setting his truck keys on the coffee table.

  “I thought we could talk—about the other night, and about the farm…” She looked at him hopefully.

  “I’d like that.”

  “I realized something, the last few days.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I realized there are parts of this farm that mean a lot to me and that I want to have, but parts I don’t.”

  He waited, his heart pounding like a tom-tom drum in his chest.

  “And I realized you’ve never, not once, given me any reason to doubt you or your commitment to the baby.”

  “But I’ve never given you any idea of my commitment to you,” he interjected. “And I’ve expected you to make a
ll the changes—give up your job, give up your apartment, move halfway across the country, birth my baby, sell me your farm.” He scooted closer to her on the sofa and took one of her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I acted like you should upend your entire life with no equivalent sacrifice from me.”

  “I don’t need you to sacrifice anything,” she told him. “I’m not trying to punish you.”

  “I know, but I haven’t been fair. This whole thing isn’t fair to you. This is your family’s farm. It always has been. I still want to buy my own place, and I have the money saved up to do it, so there’s nothing stopping me. You’re not stopping me from anything, and I was an ass to act like you were. I can stay on here as long as you need me, help with a transition to your new foreman, and then I can find my own place to buy.”

  She smiled, and it was as if the sun had finally come out after an endless night.

  “I know the perfect place for you to buy,” she told him.

  “You do? I checked around yesterday, and there aren’t any properties in the county up for sale.”

  Stella leaned over and picked up a piece of paper from the coffee table. “There’s one, but it’s not listed, and it’s only available to one specific buyer—handsome guy, really sexy, and going to be a wonderful father.”

  Scout took the paper from her hand and began to read. When he was done, he looked up at her and asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Never been surer,” she answered.

  He pulled her onto his lap, running his nose up the side of her silky cheek. “So if I own the business and you own the house, does that mean I should live in the barn with the cows?”

  She laughed. “Well, you do have the foreman’s cabin…”

  He groaned.

  “Tell you what—if you let me keep a few acres that you don’t use for grazing so I can do some projects with Crops for Kids, maybe I’ll let you live in my house with me.”