Allison’s mouth trembled. She glanced up at him and tears rolled down her cheeks when he placed their daughter on her breast. Allison’s hands came up to hold the baby close to her heart. The baby cuddled up quietly and there she lay, alive, breathing, and present. Allison cried and cried.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I almost didn’t have you. I’m sorry I didn’t do better. I didn’t think, you’d ever be here.” She whispered the last part as if she still couldn’t believe it.
Shane gathered them up in his arms, and kissed Allison’s head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Any of it. You brought her here. Healthy and perfect. That’s all that matters.”
“We don’t have anything, Shane! Not even a blanket, or a car seat to take her home. Oh, my God. I’m so stupid.”
He cupped her cheek in his hand. “We have everything. It’s all at the ranch. I asked Erin to hide it for me. I knew she was a girl. They told me after the sonogram.”
“You knew?”
“I needed to know everything we might be dealing with. Everything you could possibly face.”
She nodded. “You did that? I… hell, I don’t know how to describe you. You’re wonderful. I love you, Shane. I love you so much. What shall we name her? She has to have a name. I can’t keep calling her it, or even her. I can’t.”
She was all in, and Shane realized Allison was a little slower to warm up to things than he, but once she did, it became kind of epic and enduring. He grinned at her. “I have an idea.”
She blinked as she took a breath in. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
He was almost offended. Was she bracing herself before hearing the name he picked? “Rosemarie. We’ll call her Rosie.”
Allison’s eyelids fluttered and she let her breath out. “Wow. That’s not what I expected from you. Rose? Rosie. Rosemarie Rydell. Kind of old fashioned and formal… it’s not you, Shane. You know that, right?”
There was color in Allison’s face and her eyes were sparkling. She was back. Shane nearly turned and grabbed her so he could twirl her around. But remembering her south end, which was still being tended to, he settled for exchanging a grin. “But it is you. And I happen to love you. You don’t like it?” His tone gave away his anxiety.
She glanced down and planted a kiss on the baby’s forehead. Her lips lingered and she shut her eyes as she sniffed before finally opening them. “It’s perfect, Shane Rydell. You always do everything perfectly for me.”
He grinned and so did she as they joined hands. “Rosie. I guess we should let her meet her family.”
The doctor eventually finished up and gave them her sincere congratulations along with instructions for Allison's after-care. Shane tuned out, and could only stare affectionately at his daughter, his wife, his daughter, and back to his wife. He could not believe this family was his. He felt something substantial and deep rising in his gut. Belonging. Family. His only priority now was to care and protect both of them for the rest of his life.
He finally understood why Jack was the way he was. He had a family that he felt responsible for. Now, Shane totally comprehended the gamut and weight of such responsibility.
But nothing had ever felt so perfect to him.
****
It came as a surprise, perhaps most of all to Allison, after they took Rosie home that Allison never again taught in a classroom. She enjoyed a full three months of maternity leave, and had no desire to return to work when she was scheduled to. She continued Erin’s tutoring, however, who by then, was reading at the equivalent of the fourth grade level. Erin could read now. That was almost as crazy awesome to Allison as the birth of Rosie.
Allison went on to finish her tutorship certification before setting up private tutoring services. Within a week, she had her first client; and in no time, had to hire an assistant to keep her hours down. She loved tutoring and helping kids who were struggling, but she didn’t work full time, for her daughter truly ruled her heart. Rosie owned Allison’s time as well as her entire being. Allison cherished being a mother; and there was nowhere else in the entire world she’d rather be. She never considered being a mostly stay-at-home mom until the very moment when she was supposed to return to work.
Their new house was finished now, and after moving in, Shane worked in his shop with a renewed vigor and purpose he often lacked before. He was rapidly gaining a reputation for building custom motorcycles and was often buried in work. Hiring a bookkeeper made him realize he was now officially the antithesis of everything he ever dreamed of being.
And he was never happier.
Allison would give birth three more times over the next eight years. It became so much easier after Rosie, and was no longer a life or death prospect. However, neither she nor Shane ever took anything for granted, or treated any of her pregnancies with less reverence or concern than they did with Rosie.
It became the joke of the entire Rydell clan: Shane was the brother who ended up with four daughters. And never once, did the man wish it were any different.
Epilogue
ALLISON KNEELED DOWN BEFORE the grave. It was a smooth, black stone with only her daughter’s name and the date she was born and died. Forever the same. Forever there. Forever etched in stone, just as it was on her heart.
She would never forget. In her heart, she had five daughters, no matter how many years passed. It never wavered or lessened in her mind, nor did it in Patrick’s. Their daughters and his son became quick friends. They often visited the ranch in the summer for vacations and holidays. She and Patrick often remembered the daughter they never knew or got to celebrate. They acknowledged all the milestones that never occurred, and the dreams and future they could not plan for her.
Having kids helped soothe that pain, but nothing could eradicate their loss. Not for a single day did Allison ever forget her firstborn, eldest daughter.
Gabrielle.
Not long after Rosie’s birth, Allison asked Shane to take her to one of his tattoo artists. Much to his shock and surprise, she had a small tattoo of Gabrielle’s name placed on the inside of her wrist. Whenever she looked down while caring for her living daughters, she would always be reminded of her first one. Gabrielle would always remain a part of her, even if she never got to know her.
Few people were aware of it; and most of the people who knew Allison for most of her life could not understand the loss that broke her heart and scarred her soul. Few could comprehend the magnitude of pain and emptiness that accompanies the loss of a child. Nothing makes up for that grief, and nothing lessens it.
Time let her move on and helped her heal. But time never made the loss any easier, or more likely to be forgotten.
She didn’t tell her other four daughters about Gabrielle until they were all well into their teens. There was no reason to. It was her loss, not theirs. Shane supported her always. He understood her pain and let her grieve and mourn openly, and remember, even many years later.
Once a year, around Easter, Allison always placed an Easter lily on her daughter’s grave. This year was no different. She knelt before her daughter’s grave and prayed for her. She remembered her and everything she could about her life and death; and the terrible moment when they became inexplicably the same. She felt the grief anew, and cried for a life that should have been. Shane came over, but stood behind her, letting her mourn freely. When she finished, he held her and took her home. He too always laid a rose on Gabrielle’s grave, leaning over her with his own silent prayer. She understood the metaphor of the rose he chose. His daughters only existed now because Gabrielle died, and Allison’s marriage to Patrick subsequently failed. She never once wondered why that happened, or if some grand plan controlled things like that. She didn’t think so.
She was only sorry that little Gabrielle never knew about life.
Her only salvation were the four daughters who came after her. She was humbled and grateful every single waking day for Rosie, Iris, Violet and Daisy Rydell. Allison and Shane’s daughters. Every one of them cried, bre
athed, played, fought, loved and grew up. That gift was never forgotten by Allison or Shane, not for one second.
###
Dear Reader
I would be so grateful if you took a few moments to leave a review of River’s Return. It helps expand an author’s audience, and I really do appreciate the effort.
Read on for Chapter One of River Road. Keep up on my website for its release date.
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Leanne Davis
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River Road (River’s End, #4)
AJ Reed grew up in foster care until he ran away in his teens and started earning his way through the rodeo circuit, until injury made him quit. Left adrift with no real skills, he wandered through almost as many towns and jobs as he did women. He’s finally found a decent place to settle as the foreman on the Rydell River Ranch, until he is faced with the shocking surprise that shows up one afternoon in the form of a little girl who the state claims is his daughter.
Kate Morgan comes to the Rydell River Resort to stay for the summer to grieve for the mother she lost and to meet the brother she only just recently learned she had. Her mother’s deathbed confession that she has a brother, has left her spiraling in confusion as well as grief. Unsure what to do with this knowledge, she makes arrangements to be a guest at the resort that her half-brother is owner of. She has no idea what she is seeking by coming here, but it certainly isn’t the ranch employee who catches her eye nor his little girl who catches her heart.
AJ soon realizes that the woman he just might have feelings for is his boss’s sister, and she threatens the only real place he’s ever belonged. All the while, a little girl he never imagined he had illustrates that permanent is far more than an address. But how can a man who’s never been accountable to anything or anyone hope to commit to not just a place but a woman and a daughter?
River Road
Chapter One
Kate Morgan followed the curves of the road while a knot formed inside her stomach. She imagined childbirth labor probably felt something like it. Not that she’d ever know. But still, she was sure her nerves were mimicking the pain. She ignored the bile that crept up her throat as her pretty, little sports car came to a stop and she parked before a log home perched on a mound. It looked more like a king on a throne, and seemed to lord over the land that rolled and swayed all around it. The river glinted, almost blinding her eyes with white-gold brilliance. She could not believe what she was doing, nor how she got into such a situation.
How could her mom keep that a secret? She really didn’t know, or understand; and that pain, perhaps more than her nerves, made her stomach knot and cramp. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a real meal.
Taking a breath, she tried to pep talk herself into opening her car door and stepping out. She was strong enough to handle it. She had to do this. She was not responsible for the situation. Her mother was.
Damn her mother.
Suddenly, the image of her mother, now dead, nearly cut her in half. It made her stomach twist like a knife in her gut, taking her breath away. Oh, Mom, how could you do this to me? But I miss you. So much…
Don’t cry. Not now. This wasn’t the time to think about her grief, or never seeing her mom again. She’d never get the answers she sought, or know why her mom would keep it a secret. She didn’t know what to do about the secret now.
She had no clue if coming there was right or wrong, since everything just was. She didn’t know if her grief-stricken brain was even capable of making a reasonable decision. But here she was… in the middle of freaking nowhere, at a dusty ranch, and not a soul around that she could see. Lousy, piece of crap location.
Grabbing the handle on her convertible, two-seater, she climbed out. She had long legs. Ridiculously long, at damn near six feet tall. She refused to hunch her shoulders to lessen her stature, too, because she was proud and confident, about every damn inch of her.
That was until today. Now, entering a strange house and introducing herself as the long-lost sister to the owner, had her usual confidence wavering just a smidgeon.
Shit. How would anyone answer that? As far as she could read the situation, Mr. Jack Rydell, her half-brother, wouldn’t even know she existed. He probably never suspected the possibility. That was the same way she felt about him. Up until two weeks ago.
She shook her head. Not now. She could not infiltrate the psyche of her dead mother just to figure out why she would have kept the secret. Worse still, how could she have abandoned her son? How could she turn her back on him as if he were an annoying cat or dog or guinea pig she no longer wanted?
Maybe he was a horrible kid and grew up to be a horrible man? Maybe he was a serial killer in the making, and her mom kept him a secret to protect Kate. Could that really be? Glancing around, she’d give the ranch only a passing grade. They weren’t destitute. She sniffed, it didn’t mean anything. There had to be a pretty compelling reason for why this Jack Rydell character was kept from her for all these years. And why her mother ran away from this place. A place she literally never once looked back at, or came back to visit, or ever mentioned.
Perhaps because of the smell? A gust of wind brought the earthy scent of horses and manure wafting up her nose. She nearly gagged. She hated farm animals, along with farms, ranches, chickens, goats, cows, and horses. In short, she hated anything country. Having grown up in a condo that overlooked Elliot Bay in Seattle, she preferred condominiums by far, and had one in the Fremont area of Seattle. Hell, the world needed farms and farmers, and all that stuff, but she was all about buying local/organic produce from Pike Place Market. She turned her nose up at living that way. Uh-huh. Not for her.
She finally slipped her sunglasses off and stared up at the ranch house. Nothing. No movement. Damn it! She—
“Excuse me, ma’am, but I think you probably turned off on the wrong road. The resort is the next turnoff.”
Ma’am? Kate froze in horror over hearing how the man addressed her rather than being startled by his unexpected, deep voice. She spun around and her eyes found the chest of a man, up close and personal. It was impossible not to stare at his chest, as it was bare and gleaming with a sheen of sweat. Her gaze went lower instead of higher, and she saw the light blue jeans riding low, grazing over his lean hips. A large, silver belt buckle was the only distraction from the otherwise perfect abdominal wall. The voice, however, didn’t totally match the chest. The voice was quiet, almost soft, and so respectful with the ma’am attached to it. Ma’am?
Kate lifted her glaring eyes to the man’s face and they stared eyeball-to-eyeball. He maybe had half an inch on her. Maybe. She could totally eclipse him in a pair of her heels, or even just a pair of good boots. It was nearly impossible for Kate to see his eyes. He wore a white cowboy hat, pulled down low over his forehead and shielding his eyes. His jaw was cast in its shadow. She made out the square cut of it, almost to the point of being boxy. His mouth was flat and his nose hooked to the left. Perhaps he broke it at some point. Interesting face, but not perfect. Not even particularly handsome.
She mentally bitch-slapped herself for gawking at the man. He was her brother! Gross. God, Mom how could you not tell me? she kept asking her deceased mother mentally.
“Are you Jack Rydell?”
A tiny smile tugged at the man’s mouth as he let out a low grunt. Kate assumed that meant, “as if.” The man lifted a hand to the brim of his hat. The white brim was besmirched, no doubt, by the man’s dirty hands from doing the same gesture frequently. He tilted the hat back far enough so his eyes could meet hers. His were a bright, hazel color that accentuated the dark tan of his skin. She caught a glimpse of his san
dy-colored hair. “Sorry, ma’am. I’m not Jack. Mr. Rydell isn’t here right now. You’re not looking for the resort then?”
There it was again. Ma’am. How the hell old did she look to this cow hick? Forty? He had to be riding close to thirty, and she was just over it. Resort? What resort? What the hell was he talking about?
“Uh… yeah. Sure. Of course. Jack Rydell runs it, right?”
“He and his wife, and all of his brothers.”
Brothers? She didn’t know there were other siblings. “Are you one of them?”
His eyes never left hers and she felt something shift in her stomach. From an ache to butterflies. There was no mistaking the connection between them. Her breathing was instantly faster as her hands grew moist in a new kind of nervousness. He was hot. Harsh face or not, the man’s body demanded that she lick and caress it. Immediately.
“No. I’m AJ Reed, the ranch foreman. I have nothin’ to do with the resort. You’ll have to go back out to the River Road and take a left. The resort driveway is just a half mile down that road. You can’t miss the sign for Rydell River Resort.”
Instead of Rydell River Ranch. Yeah, confusing much? At least, it made her look legitimate. Resort, huh? Like, perhaps she could stay there? Instead of just popping out with Gee, I think I’m your sister, Jack. Maybe there was a better plan after all. She could scope things out and see what Jack Rydell was like. Then she could decide if it was worth her even mentioning the mother they shared. She was slightly suspicious there might be something gross, or off about him. Why else would her mother remain so silent about him? This way, she could stake him out a bit, and see what was up.
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