by Jillian Neal
“Well, Brock Camden, as I live and breathe, how are you sweetheart?” She reached up and caressed Brock’s face. Hope’s brow furrowed, but Brock allowed the gesture.
“Mrs. Huffton, how are you, ma’am? This is my wife, Hope. Hope, this is Mrs. Huffton, she was my Sunday School teacher all through elementary school. Uncle Ev told me you’d moved away. I was sorry to hear about Mr. Huffton’s passing.”
Hope grinned at the woman. The kind twinkle in her eye gave Hope peace.
“Well, thank you for saying so. All part of life, I suppose. It is so lovely to meet you, Hope. I’d heard you’d married, Brock, but I had no idea you’d found such a kind, loving wife. I’m so proud for you.”
Hope wondered how Mrs. Huffton knew she was kind and loving.
“I can always tell, dear.” Mrs. Huffton answered, as if she could read Hope’s thoughts.
“She’s perfect. I’m a lucky guy.” Brock wrapped his arm around Hope’s shoulders.
“I think you’re a blessed guy, young man. I’m just in town visiting my grandbabies. When this town eventually gets to you and you need a little break, head out to Lincoln and I’ll make you both supper. Everyone needs a break every now and then.” She winked at Hope, strengthening Hope’s suspicion that this woman was actually a mind reader. She reminded her of Molly from Gypsy Beach. Molly was legendary in North Carolina for her soothsaying abilities. Either this woman had Gypsy blood, or Hope’s weary anxiety was clearly written on her features. She wondered if Mrs. Huffton somehow knew she was pregnant, too.
“We might take you up on that, Mrs. Huffton. Thanks.” Brock smiled. “It was good to see you.” He offered her a wave and proceeded back towards the pharmacy area. “It’s creepy how she does that mind reading thing, isn’t it? We couldn’t ever get away with anything in her class,” Brock recalled as he handed over the prescriptions to the pharmacist and guided Hope to a chair in the waiting area. “Need anything while we’re in town? Looks like they’re stocking new romance novels over there.” He gestured to the decent sized book section of the CVS. “I haven’t seen you read in ages. You used to always have a book with you.”
Considering that, Hope was mildly interested in a new book, but she couldn’t process anything beyond the fact that she was pregnant. Books had always been her escape. She couldn’t figure out why she’d stopped reading after they’d moved. It added to her constantly confused state of being. “I can just get something from the library.” She offered up the standard excuse that she repeated to herself often.
Brock racked his brain. The events of the morning tossed tumultuously in his gut. He rather preferred the idea that Hope had been so out of sorts lately because she was pregnant. She was shocked. Hell, they were both shocked, but that wasn’t the source of her frustration and misery.
If Hope didn’t jump at the chance to get a new book, something was definitely wrong, baby or not. He tried to recall the last time he’d seen her curled up on the sofa with one of her books. As he thought back, he couldn’t locate any memories of her reading at all in their new home. The endless boxes of books he’d loaded onto their moving van were still sitting unpacked up in the loft. She’d been so thrilled with the upstairs nook and all of the built-in bookshelves when they’d visited the ranch back in September. To his knowledge, she hadn’t even been up there since they’d officially moved in.
He missed watching her escape into other worlds via her books. He loved the way she used to bite her bottom lip and how her cheeks glowed pink when she read a steamy love scene from one of her romance novels. He missed the way her eyes danced when she read something that intrigued her. It wasn’t something he felt he could ever really have, but he wanted her to have every story she wanted. How did he make her realize that?
He helped Hope stand and watched her disappear to the restroom again. Poor baby. He sure as hell hoped Doc was right and that she was feeling much better soon. Checking his watch, he wondered if it would be shitty of him to take her by the Sheriff’s office to give Clarke a piece of his mind, or if he should take her on home and come back to town later. Was delaying their trip home better than having to leave her alone at home again? Marriage should come with instructions, not that I’d be able to read them, he thought dejectedly.
Before he could contemplate further, his name bellowed from nearby. He lifted his head and forced a grin. Standing, he offered Sal Cartwright his hand before he shook both of Sal’s sons’ hands. They’d been toddlers when he’d moved away, but were now both taller than their old man.
“How the hell are ya, son? Ev kept swearing you’d moved back, but I told everybody I wouldn’t believe it ‘til I saw it myself,” Sal laughed.
Brock nodded. “We’re back. I can’t seem to get off the ranch long enough to see everyone. How’s your family?”
“We’re good. Matt’s heading to Nebraska-Lincoln in the fall, and Taylor here’s starting quarterback at Glen High this year.” Sal slapped one of his sons on the shoulder.
“Congrats.” Brock tried not to think of his own high school football heroics. They’d almost cost him his wife, so his memories were all cast in the shadows of the lies he’d lived his whole life.
“Hey, Holly’s at Nebraska-Lincoln, isn’t she?” Matt inquired.
This brought a genuine chuckle to Brock’s lips. Clearly, Matt had a crush on Brock’s youngest cousin, though he doubted Holly would give him the time of day. She was well known for her opinion that cowboys from the Glen weren’t what she was looking for. “Yeah, Hol’s at Lincoln. She’s finishing up her masters, though.”
“Maybe I’ll give her a call next time’s she’s home.”
It seemed Matt didn’t see the age difference as a problem.
Sal rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Worse than a penned bull in the middle of a pack of heifers.”
Matt glared at his father as his face reddened dramatically.
Trying not to laugh outright, Brock reached his hand towards Hope when she exited the restroom. “Mr. Cartwright, this is my wife, Hope. Hope, this is one of Uncle Ev’s best friends, Sal Cartwright. They’ve known each other since birth.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Hope replied automatically.
“You too, darlin’, and if this boy gives you any trouble, you let me know.” Sal gave her a mischievous wink, but Hope only offered a weary smile as she stole a quick glance at the pharmacist.
“I’m sure they’ll be ready soon, sugar.” Brock wrapped his arm around her and brushed a kiss on the side of her head. It killed him that she was hurting and there was nothing he could do. She’d announced that she hated it there, but then said they weren’t moving back to the beach. If she’d give him half a chance, he’d do better by her, somehow, no matter where she wanted them to live. They were having a baby. He had to make money come spring, but he was determined to hear her out about whatever she needed him to change. He’d figure it all out … somehow.
“Well, we’re in to get some udder wash. They’re out at Merle’s. Now I’ll have to pay twice as much. It’s nice to meet you, Hope.” Sal tipped his hat, but before they could head towards the farming supply aisle, Miles Baxter from the post office barreled through their gathering.
“Mrs. Camden, I’ve been looking all over town for you. I went to the library, but you’re not there. After I went there, I went out to Camden Ranch. Austin and Grant said you were in town. I’m so sorry ma’am. The package was all busted up when I got it. Must’a fallen off the truck and landed in the snow. I tried to dry out them fancy underthings you ordered, but I think you’ll have to see if the company will give you a refund. They’re torn.”
Brock watched his wife turn the approximate shade of the purple lace panty-and-bra ensemble that Miles Baxter held up to reveal what he thought were tears in the fabric. When he pulled apart the crotch of the intentionally open-crotch panties, Brock jerked them out of his hand. Unfortunately, in doing so, he revealed the open slits in the bra meant to showcase her nipples.
<
br /> Sal ran his hand over his face to keep from laughing outright. His boys cracked up as did half of the drugstore.
Tears welled in Hope’s emerald eyes. Time seemed to stand still. Brock didn’t know what to say, and suddenly she bolted. Before he could race after her, the pharmacist called, “Hope Camden.” He stared down at the lingerie in his hands and attempted to wad it up into a ball before retrieving her medicine. “She needs to take the prenatal vitamins every single day for the duration of the pregnancy. Folic acid is important for a healthy baby,” the pharmacy tech offered with entirely too much volume. Brock’s head fell in defeat as he managed a slight nod. He turned and stared out into the sea of chuckling cowboys. The fact that his wife had ordered lingerie like that shocked him almost as much as Doc Moore’s announcement that she was pregnant. She’d been so out of sorts lately. She wasn’t able to handle the insanity of this small town. Besides, he doubted a woman with far more experience than she had would have responded any differently to their lingerie being revealed in the middle of a drug store. He had no idea how to fix this, but she needed him, and he’d be there.
She refused to look at him all the way back to the ranch. He tried feebly to come up with some way to make this better. He was still dumbfounded that she’d ordered lingerie in the first place, and dammit if he wasn’t freaking turned on every time he thought about her in the open-crotch panties he’d tried to discreetly drop behind her seat in the truck. His libido wasn’t helping him in this case. His mind offered him stunning imagery of her parading around him dressed in the lingerie, of him tonguing her nipples through the cloth, and then pounding into her while she kept those sexy-as-hell panties on, since that’s what they were created for. He had no idea what to do now, however. Telling her he thought the lingerie was the sexiest thing he could ever have imagined was definitely not the route to take at the moment.
“Hope, sugar, please talk to me,” he tried again.
Another round of tears cascaded down her cheeks as she shook her head vehemently. Before he could even put the truck in park when he pulled into their driveway, she flew into the house.
He fought not to bang his head against the steering wheel. Mindy had given them the prescription for prenatal vitamins. The entire town now certainly knew she was pregnant and had ordered that lingerie. Everyone else was accustomed to Miles opening their mail. He tallied all of the things he hadn’t prepared her for. With no other plan other than to try to get her to talk to him, he headed inside the house, not surprised to find her collapsed on the couch, crying.
He’d seated himself on the floor in front of her and tried feebly to wipe away her tears. Before he could even complete that task, a knock sounded on the front door. “Fucking hell, what now?” Wearily, he made his way to the door, recalling that Grant and Austin had also been privy to his wife’s lingerie choices. If they said one word to her, he’d skin them alive, but it wasn’t Grant and Austin at his door. It was Luke.
“Hey, man, Mom’s on her way down here, but we got problems.”
Rubbing his temples, Brock fought not to shout at Luke. “Can it wait?”
“I’m sorry, but it can’t. Some of Gilbert’s cattle is showing signs of ringworm. We gotta get them quarantined away from our calves and treated, and one of your bulls isn’t liking life too much right now.”
Brock’s mind spun. Ring worm. Shit. What else was gonna blow up in his face? Untreated ring worm could be disastrous. Why weren’t Gilbert’s cattle immunized? The Camden herds were always immunized. The problem was there were a few of his calves that weren’t old enough for shots yet. “What the hell’s wrong with my bulls?” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Not ringworm?”
“No, not ringworm, but the one whose sac is making all the others jealous decided to lay down in the snow.”
“Oh, fuck.” Brock cringed.
“Yeah, so he’s waiting on us to come get his frozen dick off the ground for him. He’s probably not gonna be too friendly afterwards. I sure as hell wouldn’t be.”
Brock debated, but he really had no choice. He had a bull in pain, a bull he’d paid good money to get solely for what was in his sac, and it was currently frozen to the ground. Ringworm could be disastrous. He had a baby on the way. He had to provide for his family.
“I’ll be there in just a sec.” He assured Luke. Quickly, he set Hope’s medicine on the coffee table with a glass of water. “I love you, darlin’ so much. I’ll be back quick, but I have to go take care of this.”
She managed a slight nod before he headed back out into the snow.
Chapter Eleven
Crying until she was out of tears, Hope sat up and took the pills Brock left on the table.
How was she ever supposed to come back from the entire town seeing her lingerie? Surely, in this town everyone now knew that she was pregnant. What kind of mother would they think she was going to be? Why did I even order that? It had been in a moment of pure rebellion. She wanted to explore more, to learn more, to be with Brock more.
Like a child’s flipbook, her mind offered her images of the things he’d taught her or allowed her to experience. She’d always felt alive in his arms. Now, he was never there, and she was tired of feeling like she had to fight for his attention. They were going to have a baby. She hated the very town his family founded. How was this ever going to work?
Before she laid back down, someone knocked on the front door. What now? Hesitantly, she opened it. Her brow furrowed. Aunt Jessie was giving her a sympathetic gaze while carrying a large stock pot. Holly and Natalie were right behind her.
“I know you’ve had a hell of a day, sweetie. Just let me get this on your oven.” Jessie lifted the pot in her arms.
“You poor thing.” Holly embraced Hope lightly. “I promise everything will work out.”
“Wait? What? How did you know? What do you know?” She followed Holly and Jessie into the kitchen and refused to acknowledge Natalie. She was still irked with her on top of everything else.
Jessie and Holly shared a quick glance. “Well, some idiot put good ol’ Mindy in charge of the Methodist Church’s prayer phone chain. Word’s always travelled fast around this town. Now it’s moving at the speed of Mindy’s mouth. I wanted to get to ya before the church called to set up a baptism date. A friend of Holly’s was in Wilton’s picking up diapers and saw what happened with Miles and your lingerie order. She was worried about you and gave Holly a call. Brock’s got a mess of trouble with the Gilbert’s cattle and that bull he bought yesterday, and I think it’s high time we had a talk.” Jessie winked at her.
Hope wondered what on earth had gone wrong with the cows now? She hadn’t been able to hear whatever Luke had told Brock. Was ranch life always like this? Maybe she’d spoken too soon. Maybe she did want to go back to Gypsy Beach, to the sunshine, to a place with far fewer problems, to a place she already knew.
Holly shivered. “Why on earth don’t you have gas logs?” She gestured towards the double-sided fireplace that shared a wall between the kitchen and living room. There was another one in Brock and Hope’s bedroom. It was empty as well.
“Because your cousin is simultaneously the most stubborn and the sweetest outta all of you kids.” Jessie rolled her eyes. “He won’t use the money in the family accounts until he feels like he’s added to it.”
“Oh, good grief!” Holly huffed. “Men are completely ridiculous. This very thing will become reason number 758 why I will never marry a cowboy.”
Jessie shot her the customary maternal look that said, ‘shut it or I’ll make you shut it.’ “Since Hope has already married her a cowboy, and a darn good one at that, perhaps we could be more helpful, Holly Susanne Camden.”
Hope’s stomach turned. She hadn’t eaten anything all day. The soup Jessie was heating up smelled wonderful and suddenly she was starving.
“Hungry?” There was a twinkle in Jessie’s eyes that said she already knew the answer.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m starving actually. I’
m getting a headache.” That was probably due to the sheer number of tears she’d shed in the last hour, but food was likely to help somewhat.
“I had a feeling. Here.” Jessie served a large bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup and set it on the table. She returned to the oven and began making several grilled cheese sandwiches. When the burner wouldn’t light, she rolled her eyes. “I love that boy, but I’m gonna take a 2x4 to his backside.”
“You have to use the burner the soup is on. It’s the only one that works,” Hope explained.
Jessie shook her head, moved the soup, lit the burner, placed the buttered sandwich on the skillet and then went to make coffee. When water began leaking out the bottom of the maker, several colorful curse words flew from her mouth. Hope found it cathartic to be laughing with Holly, but the soup was outstanding, so she returned to it quickly.
“Holly Susanne, come mind this sandwich while I go call your daddy. I’m taking over. Things in this house are about to change.”
“You got it.” Holly manned the stove while Aunt Jessie headed out into the snow with her cell phone.
Hope wasn’t accustomed to anyone caring for her but Brock, and she was extremely curious to know what exactly had gotten to Jessie. She wished she could hear her talk on the phone. With a few restorative bites of soup, her mind settled. She tried to focus on the baby, but that was coupled with another round of her perceived ineptitude.
When her bowl was empty, Holly sweetly refilled it and supplied her the delicious sandwich. Unable to help herself, Hope dug in.
“Wanna talk about this crazy town, the baby, or the lingerie first?” Holly wrinkled her nose and offered Hope a grin. Natalie said nothing.
Deciding that she didn’t care what Natalie thought, Hope spoke between bites of the delectable soup. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel like I know how to do anything here. Brock won’t teach me, or he doesn’t have time,” she amended. “Now, we’re having a baby, and I don’t know how to do that either.” She’d been fighting the tidal wave of emotions for too long to keep them to herself any longer. Brock wasn’t there. She needed help. “This town is crazy.”
