“I am!” Martha swept Mira into a bear hug that surprised her, but felt amazing. “It’s so good to see you, my darling.” She tucked her arm through Mira’s and winked at Chase. “Did you bring my pie, young man?”
Chase grinned, a devilish grin that was so sexy that Mira actually felt a little weak in the knees. “Would I ever let my favorite lady down?” He reached into the backseat and pulled out three pies that he’d baked last night, even though he’d been so tired that he’d nearly fallen asleep in the bowl of apples. Mira had helped him, and it had been fun cooking together. A lot of fun. “Two apple and one blueberry.”
“Three pies? For that you get a second helping.” Martha beamed at Chase as he leaped ahead of her so that he could hold the front door open, flirting with the older lady as she ducked under his arm.
Mira was startled by Chase’s warm affection with Martha. He was so doting and sweet it was a little heart melting. It was a side she hadn’t seen of Chase, or maybe a side she hadn’t let him show. Either way, it was not what she needed to see. Endearing was not a quality she wanted to add to his list of attributes.
Gary was waiting for them with a roaring fire, some delicious wine, and a cheese plate containing more delicious cheese than she’d ever had in her lifetime. His hug was as warm as his wife’s, and Mira felt her tension rising. How could she lie to these people?
Ten minutes into pre-dinner conversation around the fire, it became too much for Mira to cope with. Gary and Martha were so warm and caring that they reminded her of her parents. It was so cozy and homey, a domestic scene that she hadn’t been a part of in so long. The camaraderie between Gary, Martha, and Chase was so evident, making her increasingly aware that her sense of belonging over the past few weeks had been such a superficial farce.
This was the kind of home she’d grown up in. This was the kind of warmth she craved. But this wasn’t her world. It was a lie, a fabrication set up to protect a baby. What would Martha and Gary think of her when they found out the truth, that she’d been knocked up in a grief-induced one-night stand, and Chase was playing the hero for a child who wasn’t even his? All this would be snatched away from her, and she’d be alone before she’d even had a chance to become a part of this world. Nausea churned in her belly. “Excuse me. May I use your bathroom?”
At Martha’s direction, Mira stumbled to her feet and made it to the room in question. She was just shutting the door when Martha appeared over her shoulder.
Mira jumped, startled by the presence. “I’ll be right out—”
“Oh, nonsense.” Martha took her by the elbow and propelled her right past the bathroom and into the kitchen, plunking her down on a stool at the counter. “You don’t need to go to the bathroom, and we both know it. Sit, girl, and talk to me.”
Mira stared at her. “Talk? About what?”
“About what? Really?” Martha picked up two potholders and opened the oven. She retrieved a roast, keeping her voice deceptively casual as she addressed Mira. “Oh, how about the fact that you’re pregnant, but barely even talking to Chase? Is that a good place to start the conversation?”
Chapter 12
Mira felt her cheeks flame up. “What?”
Martha set the roast down on the stove and gave Mira a look. “How big do you think this town is? You’re living with Chase. You were all in love when you greeted each other in the airport. You’re seeing a doctor because you’re pregnant. Despite all that storybook romancing, you and Chase aren’t even sitting on the same couch in my living room. What’s going on?”
Oh, God. This was what she’d been worried about. How could she lie to this lovely woman? “I just… I don’t…” What to say? She hadn’t been expecting Martha to know everything.
Martha jammed two meat forks into the roast and hoisted it onto a cutting board. “Those Stockton boys have issues,” she announced, her voice warm with affection. “I’ll be the first to tell you that they all deserved to be in jail at some point in their lives, but they’re cleaning up well.” She handed Mira a paring knife and three fresh tomatoes. “Slice.”
Mira immediately began to cut, grateful for the distraction. “Yes, well, they aren’t real high on the idea of a woman in their space.”
“Of course not. They learned not to trust them.” Martha wagged a baster at Mira. “Looks like you got the job of teaching them that not all women are she-devils from hell.”
“That’s not my job—”
“What?” Martha slammed the baster on the counter, making Mira jump. “Chase has never so much as let a woman breathe on his truck, let alone move into his house. He might not be able to show it, but he’s head over heels for you. He’s the oldest in that family, and he’s the one who kept the boys together when all that hell was going on. He’s got the word ‘responsible’ carved all the way to the marrow of his bones, but that’s not all life is.” Martha leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “He needs to learn that life is also about long, moonlight kisses, late night conversations under the covers, and the kind of intimacy you can get with only that one special someone.”
Mira bit her lip against the sudden longing in her chest. “I know that’s important, but—”
“Then show him.”
“No!” Mira set down her knife. “I already like him. A lot. But he’s going to break my heart, and I can’t go through that again.”
Martha raised her brows. “You’re so sure he’s going to break your heart? And why is that?”
“Because his brothers have to come first.”
“It’s a different kind of first,” Martha said, shrugging off her concern. “There’s space for lots of people to come first.”
Mira thought back to her college fiancé, and his demands, and she knew Martha wasn’t entirely right. Sometimes, choices had to be made. “Chase and I had the same best friend, but we didn’t meet until recently. He still sees me as the woman that my friend described. I don’t even know if he sees me for who I am in real life.”
Martha cocked her head. “Fantasy versus reality? You’re not sure you measure up?”
“I know I don’t. Who would?”
“Don’t sell him short, Mira. Chase is no fool, and he’s too gun-shy to shack up with a woman unless he knows in his gut that he’s right about her.”
A tiny, tiny flicker of hope fluttered inside Mira’s chest. Was it really possible that at some point, Chase had begun to see the real her? But that wasn’t the entire issue. “He feels very responsible for the baby,” she said quietly.
“I’ll bet he does.”
She looked at Martha. “If I let myself fall in love with him, how would I ever know if he married me for the baby, or for me?”
“Ah…” Martha leaned back against the counter, folding her arms over her chest. “And therein lies the problem, doesn’t it? You got pregnant too early, before you two were able to solidify what you had together.”
Mira shrugged. “It hasn’t been very long.” It hadn’t, but at the same time, she still felt like he’d been a part of her heart forever.
“Huh.” Martha picked up a white serving bowl and began to scoop potatoes out of the dish the roast had been in. “Then, I think it’s time for you and Chase to start dating.”
“Dating?” She shook her head, trying to ignore the flicker of anticipation at the idea. “I’ll be honest, Martha, I don’t feel like there is a place for me in his life, not with all his brothers. I’m trying to save some money, and then I’ll move out after the baby is born. Right now, we’re just cohabitating for convenience.” There, she’d said it, as close to the truth as she could afford to get.
Martha raised a silvery eyebrow. “Is that how you want it, my dear? Do you see Chase as nothing more than a sperm factory?”
Mira burst out laughing. “A sperm factory? No, I don’t think he’s a sperm factory.”
“Do you think he’s a handsome, caring, honest, dependable man who made your entire world turn upside down when he made love to you all night long?
”
For what felt like the thousandth time in five minutes, Mira felt her cheeks heat up, and this time, there was no way to deny the ache in her chest for him.
Martha clapped her hands in delight. “That’s a yes, if I’ve ever seen one.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. “Girl, you need to stop being a pathetic martyr. Yes, so, you’ve got a baby to complicate things. So what? Trying to protect yourself from hurt will just leave you a bitter, old lady who lives with cats who urinate all over her basement and a child who pretends he isn’t related to you. Is that really the life you aspire to?”
Mira blinked. “No, not really.”
“Then go date Chase. Seriously. It’s not that complicated.” Martha set a gravy boat in Mira’s hand. “But first, serve up the gravy. I’ll give you a can of whipped cream to take home for a private dessert.” She winked, ducking out of the way as Mira burst out laughing.
Whipped cream and Chase?
Martha was insane.
But as Martha opened the fridge to retrieve the salad, Mira couldn’t help but notice a can of whipped cream sitting on the top shelf.
No.
She couldn’t do that.
She wouldn’t.
Urinating cats were better than having her heart shattered, she was sure of it.
***
Dinner had been awkward.
Chase wasn’t going to lie.
The entire night, Mira had sat on the edge of her seat, looking like a mouse about to bolt.
Gary had pulled him aside and lit into him that he wasn’t treating Mira right, and he had a headache from the lecture that Martha had given him to start dating Mira.
Dating her.
Dating her.
Chase looked over at Mira. She was leaning back against the seat, her eyes closed, the bag of leftovers clutched to her chest. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, and she was already beat.
He frowned as he turned into his driveway. “You feeling okay?”
She nodded, not even opening her eyes. “Martha thinks we should go on a date. She thinks there’s magic between us that we’re destroying by being stubborn and afraid of being hurt.”
He rubbed his jaw as he pulled the truck into his driveway. “She said the same to me.”
Mira opened her eyes and looked at him. “What do you want, Chase?”
Her expression was soft and vulnerable, as if she were too tired to keep up the façade she’d been perpetuating all evening. Her dark eyelashes framed her vibrant blue eyes, making her appear vulnerable. She looked utterly feminine, and his instinct to protect thundered through every part of his body. He eased the truck to a stop in front of the house, and turned to face her, resting his arm along the back of the bench seat, behind her. “What I want is for you to be in my bed every night, and at my breakfast table every morning.” There. He’d said it. He couldn’t believe he’d admitted it aloud, but he had. The words felt weighty and significant, damned terrifying if he was honest, but he didn’t want to take them back. He wanted them out there. He wanted her to know.
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
He frowned at her weary, unimpressed response. Didn’t she understand the magnitude of what he’d just said? He’d admitted he wanted her to be part of his personal life, immersed in his personal space, the space he guarded from everyone. “That’s a lot.”
“It’s not enough.” With a shuddering sigh, she opened the car door. “There’s too much at stake to risk it, Chase. What if we try, but we decide we hate each other? This baby will need both of us, so maybe it’s best to just keep things even so that we can support each other as needed?”
“What? No way.” He jumped out of the truck, jogging around to catch the door before she could get out. He held out his hand to help her down. “I want more.”
She didn’t take his hand, helping herself down instead. “What exactly is it that you want? More what? More sex? More intimacy? A great big family of love with your brothers?”
He swore under his breath. “I’m not the kind of guy your dad was, Mira. I don’t bring that to the table. I have no clue how to have a family, and my brothers have to come first. I owe them, but I also want you. You matter. A lot.”
She nodded, giving him a forlorn smile that tore at his heart. “I get it, but coming in second isn’t what I want. I want it all.”
He sighed, deflation settling deep in his chest. That was it. The truth. He’d laid it all out there, and it didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough. “Then I’m not your guy.” But for the first time in his life, he wished he could be.
***
Mira bolted upright in bed, certain that something was terribly wrong. The house was silent, almost eerily so, but the lights in the barn were blazing. She rolled over to check her phone, and saw it was two in the morning. What was Chase doing? Riding?
She hurried to the window and looked out. The barn doors were wide open, but there was no activity. Fear rippled through her, and she had a sudden feeling that something was very wrong.
Without hesitating, she yanked on her jeans and boots, grabbed a sweatshirt, and then raced down the hall. She flung the front door open and hurried across the dried-out grass to the barn, rushing through the open door.
Horses were up, with their heads out the doors. The barn was immaculate, without even a stray piece of hay in the corner. Pride of ownership gleamed from every surface, and her heart tightened at the sight. It was obvious how much Chase cared about the ranch. She’d never been in the barn, because she’d spent her days at work, trying to keep herself emotionally divested from the ranch that she was going to have to leave.
But now that she had seen it, she knew that she’d made a mistake in not coming in before. This place was Chase. This amazing stable defined who he was. The only way she would ever have answers about him was to see what made him thrive.
She realized suddenly that he wasn’t around. “Chase?”
“Mira?” His voice was tense and strained, echoing from the last stall.
She hurried down the aisle, noticing now that the last door was open. She reached it, and then gasped when she looked inside. Chase was gripping the halter of a beautiful black stallion, who was trying to lie down. The animal’s flanks were coated in sweat, and his nostrils were flared as he fought for breath. “What’s wrong?”
“Spy has colic,” Chase said tersely. His face was lined with tension, and he looked fearsome as he gripped the horse’s halter. “Stomach ache,” he clarified. “He wants to roll, but that could twist his intestines and kill him. I need to keep him on his feet.”
Urgency surged through her, and suddenly, all the distance she’d tried to erect between them dissolved. “What can I do?”
Sweat was pouring down his temples, and he shook his head. “I’ve got it—” Just then, the horse groaned and his knees buckled. Chase swore and shouted at the horse, dragging on his halter to try to keep him up.
Instinctively, Mira ducked past Chase into the stall and shouted at the horse, shoving against his hip and trying to startle him. Their joined efforts worked, and the horse lurched back to his feet again.
Chase dragged the horse’s head to the side, pulling him to the left to try to get him off balance enough to take a step. “Stay beside him,” he commanded. “Keep working it. I’m going to try to get him to walk out of here.” He tugged on the lead shank, and Mira got behind the horse, clucking as she dragged off her sweatshirt, and waved it behind Spy.
The animal lurched forward, his front hooves making it past the stall door. Chase shouted with victory, and together they got the animal moving forward. They made it down the aisle, but the horse was still fighting, still trying to go down with each step. Each time his knees began to buckle, she shouted and flapped her sweatshirt, while Chase urged him on in front.
“Outside,” Chase said. “Let’s get him to the ring.”
Together, working as a unit, they got Spy to the corral, but it was a battle for every step.
The air was cool, but the horse was still drenched in sweat.
“I gave him some medicine,” Chase said. “If we can keep him moving until it kicks in, he should be okay. Come on, Spy!” He tugged on the horse as he tried to go down again. “Shit, come on, boy. You can do this!”
They got him going, and then one minute later, the horse dropped to his knees before they could stop him. He rolled onto his back with a groan, kicking his feet in the air as if he were itching his back, instead of risking his own life. Mira’s heart dropped, and she and Chase leapt at Spy, shouting and pushing at him.
“Get up,” she screamed. “Come on!”
For an agonizing moment, Spy continued to roll, and then he lurched to his feet with a groan, staggering as he tried to regain his balance. “Good boy!” Chase urged him forward, and Mira stayed by the horse’s side, each of them working together to try to keep him moving.
As the horse stumbled forward, Chase looked over at Mira. His face was gray with worry. “Good job back there, Mira.”
She nodded. “No problem.”
They fell into a grim, tense partnership, working together to keep the horse moving. Twice, he managed to get down and start to roll, but both times they got him going again. After what felt like an eternity, Mira finally noticed that Spy was moving less laboriously now, and he wasn’t trying to stop anymore. She looked over at Chase, who was rubbing the horse’s ears and talking softly to the animal as they walked, his voice soothing and calming. He was so nurturing, that her own heart tightened. She’d never seen him be so soft, and it was amazing to see the big, strong cowboy being tender. “Chase?”
He glanced over at her, and she saw his face was lined with dirt and grime, with streaks down his temples from the sweat. “He’s getting better,” he said. “Can you see that?”
She nodded, relief rushing through her. “I didn’t know if I was imagining it or not.”
A Real Cowboy Never Says No Page 14
