Their rowdiness was partly fueled by bottles of cider and a warm summer night, but clearly they were used to giving each other a hard time no matter what the circumstances.
They hadn’t let go like this during the wedding, maybe because the occasion was life-changing for one of their own. Evidently chuck wagon stew night was all about fun.
And what could be a better after-dinner event for slightly toasted and unsuspecting cowboys than the rice and safety pin game? When Henri granted their request to play it, she insisted they should go first to show the ladies how it was done.
Everyone got up from the long picnic table and gathered on chummy stumps around the fire pit. They didn’t need a fire for heat, but Rafe had made a small one so the smoke would keep away mosquitoes.
An over-confident and clueless CJ volunteered to start the game. Tucking the bowl between his knees, he flexed his fingers. “Come to poppa, tiny safety pins.” He nodded to Lucy, the timekeeper, closed his eyes and buried both hands in the bowl. He kept his jaunty attitude through two failed attempts.
Then he plunged in for the critical third try. “Got one!” Bits of rice clung to his fingers, but no pin. “Sh…ucks! Shucky darn!”
Isabel laughed. “Shucky darn?”
He glanced at her. “When we play a game with ladies present, swearing is frowned upon.”
“Can the ladies swear if they want?”
“I asked that when I was a first timer,” Kate said. “You can, but you’ll feel like a potty mouth when they’re coming out with tarnation and dagnabbit.”
“I love dagnabbit.” Rafe grinned. “That’s your all-purpose swear word, right there.”
“You’d better polish it up and have it ready, bro.” CJ handed him the bowl. “I predict you’re gonna need it.”
“Naw. I’m good with my hands. Everybody says so.” Rafe positioned the bowl, nodded to Lucy and shoved his fingers into the rice. Three minutes later, he was pin-less. He glared at the bowl. “Dagnabbit!”
CJ chuckled and stood. “This activity calls for some musical embellishment.” He sauntered over to his guitar leaning against the picnic table. Propping his boot on the bench and balancing the guitar on his thigh, he launched into the chorus of Another One Bites the Dust.
“That works!” Rafe left his seat, grabbed a stick of kindling and joined CJ, pounding out the rhythm on the table.
CJ exuded raw energy as he belted out the lyrics. Isabel had experienced that level of intensity in him once before, when she’d asked for it… in bed. Her breath stalled.
They ended the chorus with a rock-star flourish and exchanged a high five. He glanced at her and winked, his smile sexy as hell. Her body clenched in response and she shivered.
“You won’t need that number for me, losers.” Nick puffed out his chest. “Better dust off We Are the Champions.” He took the bowl, settled it between his knees and rubbed his hands together. “Behold the power of friction!”
The power of friction didn’t help Nick. Laughing, he picked up a piece of kindling and joined CJ and Rafe for another chorus. Leo did no better. When Garrett lost, he went to the table, flipped the empty stewpot upside down and drummed on it during the increasingly raucous song.
By the time Matt joined the men at the table, the noise was deafening. Isabel stood to get a better view as the guys busted moves and yelled out the lyrics with no attempt to stay in tune.
Millie laughed. “They’ve officially lost it.”
“Brought to their knees by pins and rice.” Kate exchanged a grin with Henri.
“Sounds like they’re gonna sing it all the way through.” Henri glanced at Isabel. “They’re not always like this.”
“Yes, they are,” Lucy said. “Just not quite so ramped up. The game tipped them over the edge.”
“Obviously.” Isabel returned her attention to the guys as they ended the song, sent up a rowdy cheer and toasted each other with cider.
Nick handed CJ a bottle still dripping from sitting in the washtub of melting ice. He took it with a grin and laughed at something Matt said. Nick clapped him on the shoulder and Rafe playfully tugged his hat over his eyes.
Nudging it back in place, he looked beyond the circle of his brothers until his gaze met hers. He mouthed I love you and lifted the bottle in her direction. Then he gulped down most of the cider as sweat glistened on the tanned column of his throat.
“You look a little shell-shocked.”
Lucy’s voice pulled her out of her dazed focus on CJ. She turned and took a quick breath. “When you said CJ usually played his guitar on Friday nights, I thought he’d be doing ballads and stuff.”
“Sometimes he does. Depends on the mood. I guess tonight called for some craziness. You okay?”
“Sure.” Nope. But she’d needed to see this.
* * *
“Okay, what’s up?” CJ glanced at her as he drove back to her cabin.
“What do you mean?” Stupid question, but maybe she could delay the conversation.
“You were having a great time until you weren’t. I figure it had something to do with me playing Another One Bites the Dust.”
“I loved the entire episode. And your brothers are hysterical.”
“But you’ve been sad ever since.”
“What makes you say that? I’ve—”
“Yeah, you’ve been cheerful and smiling, talking with everyone like nothing’s wrong. Doesn’t fool me a bit. What’s the problem?”
She clenched her hands in her lap. She was better off not looking at him so she stared out the open window into the darkness. The crickets were loud tonight. “Same old problem. There’s no way this will work out for us.”
He groaned. “Jake was right.”
“About what?”
“He was worried that you’d see me with the gang and conclude I’m too deeply rooted to make the transition.”
“Because you are deeply rooted.”
“Of course I am. Henri and Charley were experts at tilling the soil. But I’m stronger than you give me credit for, Izzy. Let me prove it to—”
“I can’t take that chance. You have everything you love here. You’ll have none of that in—”
“I’ll have you. And Cleo Marie. That outweighs all the rest.”
“That’s never been tested. You have no basis—”
“I have tested it!”
“How?”
“In my head. I’ve mentally put myself in your apartment.”
“You’ve never seen it.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m in a generic apartment. No Henri, no Brotherhood, no Buckskin Ranch. Just you.” He pulled up in front of her cabin and shut off the motor. “Imagining the joy of sharing your space…” He unfastened his seatbelt and turned to her, his gaze intense. “I want that. I want it so bad I can taste it.”
Tension made her clumsy and she fumbled with her seatbelt. At last she unlatched it and faced him. Breathe, girl. “Living together would be exciting…for a while.”
“If you think I’ll get tired of you—”
“Not my point. You’ll start to miss the people you’re used to seeing every day. And the longer you go without—”
“We’ll talk on the phone. Hell, we can video chat on the phone.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know.” His chest heaved and he stared out through the windshield as if gathering his forces. “Bottom line—I’ll do whatever it takes so that I can hold you every night.” He turned back to her. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me there.”
She took a deep breath and met his steady gaze. “I don’t want you there.”
“You’re lying, Iz. You want me right this minute. Just like I want you. We love each other. You can’t deny—””
“I’m trying to stop you from making the worst mistake of your life!”
“You can’t know that.”
“Yes, I can!”
“Izzy, you’re just plain scared. I don’t blame you, but—�
��
“You should be, too!”
“Let’s go inside.” He reached for the door handle. “We’ll talk. Iron this—”
“Talking isn’t going to solve anything.”
He smiled. “Then we’ll have to try something else.”
Panic squeezed the air from her lungs. “Don’t come in.” She knew the truth. But the fire of his lovemaking would incinerate it. She opened her door and started to get out.
He grabbed her arm. “Don’t do this.”
“I have to.” She glanced over her shoulder and sucked in a breath. The agony in his gray eyes ripped her to shreds. “Let me go.”
“I love you. You said if I ever saw you heading for a cliff, I should—”
“This isn’t a cliff.” Her voice shook. “It’s a fork in the road. Let me go. And don’t follow me.”
His grip loosened. “Izzy…” He’d never said her name like that, like he was drowning. “This isn’t over.”
She pulled her arm free and used the door to steady herself as she climbed down. Her legs were wobbly. No, it wasn’t over. It would never be over. They were having a baby.
Chapter Thirty
Izzy hadn’t managed to close the truck’s door all the way. CJ took it as her subconscious balking at what she’d done. Dragging air into his tight chest, he focused on the cabin and willed her to come back out.
Damn it, why did Jake have to be right? This shouldn’t be happening. She loved him. They belonged together. He’d contacted every riding stable in the Seattle area and received encouraging text messages from two of them. He’d planned to tell her tonight.
While everyone had been busy serving themselves stew, he’d pulled Henri aside and asked to meet with her during his lunch hour tomorrow. He’d written up a formal resignation to give her even though she might not require one. Putting it on paper would let her know he was serious and she needed to start looking for his replacement.
Although proposing to Izzy tomorrow night would be awesome, he didn’t have a ring and shopping for one required driving into Great Falls. No time. Seattle would have a bigger selection, anyway, so he’d given up on getting engaged before she left.
But now… was there anything he could do to turn this around?
He stared at the cabin door and the light shining from the front window. If her light was still on, there was hope. Come out, Iz. Please. Tell me you had a moment of insanity. Say you just realized you can’t live without me.
The light in the window went out. He’d seen movies where the hero pounded on his sweetheart’s door until she opened it and let him kiss her. If he could just kiss Izzy, everything would go back to the way it had been before.
But what worked well in the movies wasn’t a great idea in this case. The guests sleeping in nearby cabins wouldn’t appreciate a scene like that. Worse yet, he wasn’t entirely confident she’d open that door no matter how hard he pounded on it.
How could he convince her that the move to Seattle would be good for him, for her, and Cleo Marie? As he sat in the darkness listening to the crickets, nothing brilliant came to him. Okay, this was depressing. And unmanly.
Reaching across the passenger seat, he opened the door slightly and gave it a good tug so it closed tight. Then he started the engine and left his seatbelt off as he drove to the bunkhouse. Living dangerously.
Laughter and rowdy conversation drifted out the screen door as he approached. Matt and Lucy had left the picnic area when he and Izzy had taken off. Jake and Millie had been saying their goodbyes, too, along with Henri.
Sounded like a poker game was in progress with the guys who still lived in the bunkhouse—Nick, Garrett, Rafe and Leo. They might have invited Kate to play since she loved the game.
Sure enough, the leaf had been removed from the kitchen table to create a manageable size for poker. The five of them were well into a game, but the action came to a screeching halt when he walked into the kitchen.
Kate was the first to speak. “Now what?”
He’d rehearsed his explanation on the way over so he could say it without choking up like a loser. “After watching me having a great time with you jokers, she’s concluded I’ll ruin my life by moving to Seattle.” He crossed to the fridge and took out a bottle of cider.
“She’s been saying that all along.” Rafe folded his cards and laid them on the table. “What’s different?”
“This time she took a stand, wouldn’t let me through the door.” Still hurt like hell. He twisted the top off and took a soothing gulp of the cool liquid.
Nick shook his head. “That’s harsh, bro.”
No kidding. “Jake predicted this could happen, but by the time he warned me it was too late to change the plan.” Pulling out a chair, he took a seat at the table.
“That’s it, then?” Garrett frowned. “You’re giving up?”
“Hell, no, I’m not giving up.” He held tight to the bottle and put his other hand under the table so nobody would notice he was shaky. “But I’m not sure what my next move should be.”
“We can brainstorm while we play.” Leo’s suggestion was casually made, but his gaze was far from casual. He was worried.
Wouldn’t be helpful to focus on Leo’s concern right now, so he looked away. “Perfect.” He took another swallow from the bottle. Good thing they’d stocked up recently. “Deal me in.”
* * *
He didn’t remember setting his alarm, but evidently he had. Loudest alarm ever. He shut it off, sat up slowly and swung his legs over the edge of the bunk. Today would be no fun. No fun at all.
Somebody had made coffee. He’d go get some. In a minute. First he had to make sure his head wouldn’t explode if he attempted to stand.
“Here, bro.” A hand appeared with a couple of aspirin in the palm.
He squinted up at Nick. “Thanks.” He managed to pick up the tablets, get them in his dry mouth and swallow some of the water from the glass Nick offered him. “Never been that drunk.”
“But you sang on pitch. That was—”
“I sang?”
“You sang.” Rafe approached with a steaming cup of coffee. “We didn’t know you’d learned that one.”
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “She’s My Kind of Rain?”
“That one,” Nick said. “You do a nice job with it. Not as good as Tim McGraw, but close.”
He thanked Rafe for the coffee and inhaled the smell of it. “Can’t believe I sang it.”
“Several times.” Rafe sounded amused.
“Aw, geez. Was Kate still here?” He sipped the coffee, careful not to burn his tongue. It already felt too big. If he scalded it, he might not be able to keep it from hanging out of his mouth like a happy St. Bernard.
“Kate left when the poker game broke up,” Nick said. “You fetched your guitar after that.”
“Glad she was gone, at least.” He drank more coffee. The jackhammer in his head gradually became more like the soft thud of hooves on a dirt path. The guys looked less blurry, too. “Did we brainstorm an Izzy plan?”
Rafe nodded. “We all agree you should sing her that song. You told us it’s your couple song.” He grinned. “You told us that a lot.”
“Look, I’m not standing outside her window like some loser and—”
“No, that would be lame,” Nick said. “You’ll perform it in the gazebo during the celebration tonight. I don’t know which song you’d picked, but do this one, instead.”
“I’m scheduled to play?” The jackhammer returned.
“That’s what Henri said last night. You don’t remember?”
“Not really. It’s possible I agreed to play weeks ago when they were rounding up entertainment. I have a vague memory of it.” Everything was vague, now. Exactly what he’d been going for as he’d downed copious amounts of cider.
“Check with Henri,” Rafe said. “She has a copy of the program.”
“I have a meeting with her at noon for something else.” He’d spaced the reason
. It would come to him once the fog cleared. “I’ll ask her then.”
“Good. Let us know when you’ll be performing and we’ll make sure Isabel’s in the vicinity. Sing straight to her.” Rafe smiled. “She’ll love it. Guaranteed.”
“Not convinced of that, but it’s something, anyway. One thing’s for sure. I’ve already logged in rehearsal time on that number.”
Nick laughed. “That you have, bro.”
“Thanks for putting up with me, guys.” He glanced toward the bunkhouse window where the sky was growing lighter by the second. “Are Leo and Garrett gone already?”
“They are,” Nick said. “They had a sunrise ride going out.”
“For some unknown reason I remember that. And I kept them up late. Nice.”
“They’re okay. Better off than you.”
“No doubt. I need to get dressed.”
“I can cover for you,” Nick said.
“Yeah, me and Nick were gonna let you sleep but then your alarm went off.”
CJ craned his neck and peered up at Rafe. It was like standing at the base of the flagpole on the square and gazing at the Stars and Stripes rippling overhead. “You’re so damn tall.”
“Genetics.”
“Your parents were tall?”
He shrugged. “Guess so. Don’t know for sure.”
“Sorry. You mentioned that once. I’m not myself this—”
“Forget it. Listen, you could use a couple more hours of shuteye.”
“You stayed up as late as I did.”
“True,” Nick said. “But we didn’t try to suck up every bottle of cider in the house. Rafe and me, we’ve got this.”
“Nope. Thank you kindly, but I’ll do it.” He set the mug on the floor, clenched his jaw and stood. The jackhammer tortured him while he searched in vain for his shaving kit. Where the hell was it? Oh, yeah. In Izzy’s bathroom.
He didn’t have time to retrieve it now, so he’d go unshaven to the barn and maybe to the meeting with Henri. Getting his razor back would be a hassle. He hit the showers and the hot spray revived him considerably.
The morning went fast, thank God, and he had only five minutes to spare when he parked in front of Henri’s for their noon meeting. He glanced at her rose bushes before climbing the steps to her front porch. Eons had passed since he’d picked roses and gathered petals for Izzy.
Baby-Daddy Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 3) Page 17
