“Yep, you gotta help me with something,” he said, bracing his son against his hip and facing Renata. “We’re a package deal.”
There were tears in Renata’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Curtis clapped his hands, bouncing in his arms.
“I know. We get to keep her.” He laughed. “I’m happy, too.”
Renata shook her head, but her smile was something else.
“Now we’re ready?” Mack asked.
Ash took her hand in his and squeezed, earning him a smile. “We’re ready.”
Mack McCoy was a man of few words and Ash was thankful for it. When Mack asked for rings, Ash pulled the two gold bands he’d purchased for them from the pocket on Curtis’s little black vest and held them out. What surprised them both was Curtis. He leaned forward, holding his arms out for Renata. And she took him, holding him close—like it was the most natural thing in the world. Their vows were short and sweet and, before he knew it, he and Renata were declared man and wife.
“Wait,” he said again, handing Curtis back to his mother, causing a round of laughter from those gathered. “Better,” he said, sliding his arms around her. “Mrs. Carmichael.”
She smiled up at him and wound her arms around his neck.
“Kid friendly, please,” Archer called out, setting off a round of groans, slaps and laughter from her side of the family.
“Buzzkill,” Ash said, pressing a gentle kiss against her mouth. He’d behave, for the moment. Now that they were married, he could kiss her wherever and whenever he damn well pleased.
“What’s that smile about?” she asked.
“All the perks of being married to you.” His hands cradled her face.
Her cheeks blossomed with color.
“I just need a few signatures,” Mack interrupted. “Then we can get this show on the road.”
It didn’t take long to make everything legal. But helping load up the truckloads of kids and family members for the short drive to Cutter’s did.
“Can we walk?” Renata asked, smoothing a hand over her stomach.
He nodded. “Whatever you want.” Besides, leaving his truck where it was might make for an easier getaway.
The mothers unpacked the stroller, bundled Curtis up and led the way, stopping every now and then to look at a shop.
It was a pretty day. The sun was out. And he wanted to walk down Main Street with his new bride. “Happy?” he asked Renata.
She nodded.
His fingers threaded with hers, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. “Can’t keep your hands off me,” he teased. He sure as hell couldn’t keep his hands off her.
She flashed him a cheeky grin. “I can’t?”
He chuckled. “You’re up to no good.”
“I am?” she asked. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
He squeezed her hand. “Just lucky, I guess.”
“Is that what you call it?” she asked, her brows arching. “I’d call it shameless.”
The walk to Cutter’s was interrupted every few feet. The shopkeepers and business owners of Stonewall Crossing wanted to offer congratulations—making their short walk longer. Not that he minded. He’d have been fine skipping the reception altogether. What he wanted, more than anything, was time with his new wife.
Renata had asked that they postpone their honeymoon until the new year, and since he didn’t want to spend the holidays away from Curtis, he’d agreed. Besides, the holidays were a time for family. What better opportunity to start building memories and traditions as a new family?
“What’s your favorite color?” she asked.
He chuckled. “What?”
She tugged on his arm. “What’s your favorite color?” She looked up at him, expectant.
“Blue,” he answered. Blue, like her eyes.
She nodded.
“Why?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I realized I didn’t know. It’s something a woman should know about her husband.” She shrugged, her eyes searching his. “There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other. It popped into my head, so I asked.”
He nodded. “Keep asking.”
She smiled. “Oh, I will.”
“Your favorite color?”
Her brows rose high. “Brown. Most of my favorite things are brown. My saddle. My favorite hat.” She pointed at her feet. “My boots.”
He shook his head.
“What?” She tugged on his arm again.
“You’re full of surprises.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and steered her across the street to Cutter’s.
“That’s a bad thing?” she asked.
“No. It’s a Renata thing.” He stopped on Cutter’s wide front porch and turned her to face him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“That’s good because I think what Judge McCoy just did was some sort of legally binding agreement.” She reached up to run her fingers through his hair.
“Whoa, now.” Ryder Boone stood in the doorway. “These things here are called windows. And people can see through them.” He pointed back and forth between them. “That right there will have to wait until later.”
Ash stooped to whisper “Not too much later.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Renata laughed, pressing one soft, sweet kiss to his lips.
Epilogue
“Come on, Ash.” Renata stood, one hand on each of Fisher’s boys.
“Timer is set,” Ash said, running back to his spot beside her. “Watch for the flash. Everyone smile. It’ll take about five.”
The camera flashed and Renata let the boys go, laughing as they raced around the couch. “I wish I had that sort of energy.”
“If you tried to do that, we’d wind up in the hospital.” Ash eyed the boys and shook his head, placing his hand on her round stomach. “Let’s give them as much time as they need.”
“Agreed.” Her father stood. “Can we cut the cake now?”
“Yes, Teddy, we can cut the cake.” Clara touched his cheek. “What a romantic.”
“I was going to feed you a bite.” Her father laughed.
“Five years.” Hunter shook his head. “Time sure does fly. Happy Anniversary, Dad.” He hugged Clara.
Renata hugged her stepmother. “Seems like you’ve been a part of the family for longer.”
“It does.” Clara smiled.
Josie bounced her and Hunter’s daughter, Ana, on her hip. “Here’s to many more.”
Hunter nodded, slipping his arm around his wife and kissing his daughter’s head. “Many.”
Kylee patted the back of her newborn. “Fisher tells me you two are taking an actual vacation?”
Fisher shrugged. “It’s possible I dreamed that. I don’t think Dad’s ever taken a vacation—unless it had something to do with a rodeo or stock show.”
“You didn’t dream it.” Clara laughed.
“I’m impressed, Clara. I think Fisher’s right. Dad’s never ventured very far. Glad to see him have an adventure.” Renata’s stomach tightened, but she ignored it. This was Clara and her father’s day. She’d already had two false alarms—she didn’t want to ruin the party with another one.
“Clara’s taking him to meet her sisters,” Eden said, keeping one eye on her girls. “In Austria.”
“You own a passport?” Archer asked his father, taking the hand that Eden offered him.
“He does now.” Clara laughed.
“I’m impressed, Dad.” Ryder had his arms wrapped around Annabeth. “I never thought you’d leave all your grandkids.”
Her father frowned. “We won’t be gone that long.”
“He’s teasing you.” Renata shot her brother a look. “You two deserve time, just the two of you.” Her stomach clamped down so hard
she didn’t have time to swallow down her groan.
All eyes turned her way.
“Renata?” Ash turned her to face him.
“It’s just another false alarm,” she assured him. “It has to be.” But her stomach contracted again, harder this time.
“Load up,” Fisher called out.
“No, don’t load up,” she argued. “Ash will call you if this is real. Stay, have cake.” She winked at her father.
“She’s right,” Ash agreed. But she didn’t miss the wink he gave Fisher.
“You two are terrible,” she said, clinging to Ash’s hand.
“Ash, you two head out. We’ll be there soon.” Her father patted her cheek. “You got this.”
It took a good five minutes to make their goodbyes. Her water broke on the way to Ash’s truck. “Curtis? I don’t want him waking up and we’re both gone.”
“I’ll call my mom and Betty when we get to the hospital.” He kissed her hand as he backed the truck up. “They’ll bring him up after his nap. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
She nodded, squeezing his hand. He was acting calm, cool and collected, but she saw the concern in his eyes. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” he said, picking up speed as they neared the hospital.
Dr. Farriday said it was one of the fastest twin deliveries she’d ever seen. Eleven hours was quite enough for her—and Ash.
John Theodore and Sara Jean were born eight minutes apart.
And when they were wheeled into her room from the nursery, there was no shortage of arms ready and willing to pass the babies around. Her father was beaming with pride. Her brothers fought over who looked most like who. And Fisher told her it was only fair that JT was a big brother—since she’d always be his big sister.
Renata lay back against her pillows, staring around her crowded room. There was so much love here.
“You okay?” Ash asked, bending low to kiss her.
“A little overwhelmed,” she admitted, smiling up at him. “We’re blessed, Ash. To have all this.”
“And each other.” He kissed her again. “Every day is an adventure.”
“Unexpected?” she asked.
“In the best possible way.” He chuckled.
She stared up at him, marveling—as always—that this wonderful man was her husband. “I’m glad you chose to love me, Ash.”
“I’m not sure I had a choice, Renata. You belong here,” he whispered, pressing her hand over his heart. The love in his eyes shone bright. “And I belong to you.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Home on the Ranch: The Montana Cowboy’s Triplets by Allison B. Collins.
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Home on the Ranch: The Montana Cowboy’s Triplets
by Allison B. Collins
Chapter 1
Hunter Sullivan inhaled air so crisp and cold he could swear icicles were forming inside his nose. He raised the collar of his jacket, wishing now he’d worn a heavier coat. Might have been late March, but around here, folks still considered it winter. Clouds hung low over the snow-covered Montana mountains, and a layer of frost covered the valley floor like an ice-skating rink.
Reining Becket to a stop on top of the small plateau, he looked out over the valley he loved. He and his older brothers had grown up here, running roughshod and free, and he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Forget cities, big or small. This was where he belonged, living and working on the family guest ranch. The buildings and cabins spread throughout the valley, surrounded by mountains and towering trees. Some days the lake was so still it mirrored the surrounding landscape and sky.
Heaven on earth.
Well, heaven until a few days ago, when a caravan of trucks and trailers and Tinseltown trespassers invaded their ranch.
Becket snorted and stamped his hooves, ready to gallop across frozen fields. “Okay, bud, I know you want to run.” Hunter patted Becket’s neck.
His horse whinnied, and Hunter glanced over his shoulder just as two of his brothers joined him on the rise.
Hunter shot a look at Wyatt. “Why aren’t you at home with your bride?”
“Frankie’s on a video call with her dad’s office. You shoulda seen her—face made up, wearing a silk blouse on top, Scooby Doo pajama bottoms and SpongeBob slippers.”
“Dude, SpongeBob? Were they a wedding gift from you?” Luke teased.
“Johnny picked them out for her. When you take a four-year-old shopping, you get the cool clothes.” Wyatt gave a sheepish grin, but parental pride colored the words.
“You’re technically still honeymooners, right? You should go home and coax her out of the pj’s.” Hunter jerked his thumb back toward the family cabins.
“I would, but I gotta head out to the south fence and fix the gate.”
“Dad was right to make you foreman.” Luke rested his hands on the pommel and rocked back.
Wyatt did a double take. “Where’d that come from?”
“Just sayin’. You slid right in when Shorty retired, and you’ve kept things running great.” Luke stretched his arm out and gave Wyatt a fist bump.
“Thanks,” Wyatt said, a note of surprise in his voice. He’d had a lot of rough years, and rarely heard praise from anyone.
“Where you headed to?” Hunter glanced at Luke.
“I wanted a few minutes of quiet before I start making rounds. Wellness checks for the animals the movie crew brought in.”
“They got you doing double duty with their livestock? Hope we’re charging ’em for your vet services,” Wyatt said.
“Part of the contract, and yeah, we’re charging—” Movement to the left caught Hunter’s eye, and he saw a black horse racing at a full gallop across the frosty valley.
But the horse wasn’t on its own.
There was a woman in the saddle.
He squinted. The woman’s body was tilting to the side. It looked like she was hanging on tight. At that speed, if she fell off or got thrown, she’d be seriously hurt. Maybe even killed.
“Hey. You see that?” Luke leaned forward.
“I got this.” Hunter squeezed his knees against Becket’s sides. “Hiyah.” Becket leaped forward and stretched his neck, galloping toward the woman.
Hunter gripped the reins so tight his fingers went numb. Memories of the last runaway horse fl
ashed through his head like a rapid-fire slideshow. His vision wavered, then tunneled, and his pulse kept time with the pounding of Becket’s hooves.
He drew closer, and Hunter saw long red curls streaming behind the woman like dragon fire. Carley? A celebrity, Carley Williams was the lead actress filming the modern-day Western on the ranch, and in the short time he’d spent flirting with her, he’d gotten the feeling she wasn’t much of a horsewoman.
“Hang on! I’m coming.”
“Back off. I don’t need anyone.” Carley pulled herself back up into the saddle.
Becket eased up next to them and kept pace with the other horse, and Hunter reached for the reins.
She knocked his hand away.
He reached out and latched onto the reins, and it became a tug of war. What was with her? “Whoa, there, whoa. Easy.” Both horses slowed to a canter, then a complete stop, and he could finally breathe again. “You okay? What spooked your horse?”
The woman punched his arm. “You blooming idiot! Why’d ye stop me? You could have died, and taken me to hell with ye!”
This wasn’t the woman he’d been flirting with since the movie people arrived. She had the same hair as Carley and kinda looked like her. But the accent...and that punch... He rubbed his arm. She definitely had some muscles. “Your horse was out of control. Are you okay?”
“We weren’t out of control, you bampot.”
He didn’t know what bampot meant, but he figured it wasn’t studly hero. “Your horse was galloping at breakneck speed, and you were damn near close to breaking your own neck.”
“I’m rehearsing. I know what I’m doing.” Red spots of color made her cheeks glow, and her eyes flashed emerald fire.
“Rehearsing?”
She huffed, and whipped her cowboy hat off to shove her hair out of her eyes. “I’m a stunt double.”
He tipped his head as her words sank in. “You’re what?”
“A stuntwoman.”
“So your horse wasn’t out of control?”
“Are ye daft? I already said no. Rory and I have made several movies together—we know what we’re doing. We’re a team.” She scrubbed a hand over the horse’s neck, and it seemed to preen with her attention.
Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding Page 17
