“I think your mother wants to leave,” Mrs. Cosgrove said, sounding weary.
That did it.
“Girls. Now.” Shauntelle put on her most firm voice.
Millie looked over at Margaret, and then, as if they both realized they had pushed the boundaries as far as they dared, they got up, walked over to Mrs. Cosgrove and each gave her a hug.
The sight sent a pang of desolation through her. What would happen now? How could they ever face Mrs. Cosgrove again?
Or Noah?
Shauntelle’s heart seemed to fold at that thought.
What must Noah be thinking right now? Did she even want to know?
Chapter Sixteen
She was still here.
Noah breathed a sigh of relief, his hands releasing their death grip on the steering wheel as he pulled up beside Shauntelle’s car.
He jumped out of the truck, slammed the door behind him and ran through the puddles to the house. Yanked open the door to the porch, stepped inside and almost ran into Shauntelle on the porch. She looked ready to leave.
Her eyes grew wide, and she pressed a hand to her chest, taking a step back.
“Noah’s back,” Millie cried out, running onto the porch to join them.
“Maybe we can stay longer?” Margaret put in.
Noah’s eyes darted from the girls to Shauntelle, wondering what his next step should be. And then his mother appeared at the door. Her eyes held a question, and all Noah could give her was a small smile. He wanted to talk to Shauntelle before he said anything more to his mother.
“Actually, I’m feeling better,” Fay said. “I think we should go into the family room to play a game.”
The family room had a sliding door, separating it from the kitchen and dining room. It would give Shauntelle and Noah some privacy.
“If you don’t mind staying a few more minutes?” Noah said, keeping his eyes on Shauntelle as if to gauge her reaction.
“Yippee! Let’s go!” Millie cried out, never one to let an opportunity pass her by.
Shauntelle gave a slow nod as if considering her options. But the girls were already gone, his mother right behind them.
By the time he and Shauntelle entered the kitchen, the door to the family room was pulled shut and the girls’ excited voices were muted.
They were alone.
“Do you want anything?” Noah asked, nervous, not sure where to start.
Shauntelle shook her head, her arms folded as if in self-defense.
Noah grabbed a quick drink of water, then turned back to her, his hands resting on the counter between them.
“So I spoke with your father,” Noah said, his heart increasing its beat. So much rested on the next few things he said. “It was a good conversation, and I’m glad we had it.”
Shauntelle’s eyes grew wider, and she lowered her arms. “Did he talk about the lawsuit?”
“He explained how it happened, and that it wasn’t only about Josiah. He and your mother hoped winning the lawsuit would let them help you. To make up for all the times they helped Josiah.”
“Why did they think that?” Her voice held an edge of anger.
“They did it because they care about you. I think they felt guilty.”
“The only thing they should feel guilty about is starting that lawsuit against you.” Shauntelle held out her hands as if pleading with him. “Please know I had nothing to do with it. I had no idea you were sending them money.”
She sounded so distressed, Noah couldn’t stay where he was. He walked around the counter and pulled her into his arms.
“I had hoped you didn’t.” He stroked his hand over her head, relief, joy and peace he hadn’t felt before flowing through him.
“And I should never have been as angry with you as I was.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt.
Noah’s only reply was to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Anger is all part of the grieving process.” And even as he spoke the words, he realized that his anger with his father might have been part of his own process.
She pulled back, a glint of tears in her eyes as she held his. “I’m sorry. I was wrong to think you had anything to do with Josiah’s death.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. You loved your brother, and you missed him.”
Shauntelle released a hard laugh. “I did, but I was so angry with him when he died. I felt like he had done the same thing Roger had.”
“And what was that?”
“Made promises he had no intention of keeping.” She looked down, her fingers fiddling with a button on his shirt. “I think I took some of my anger with Roger and put that on Josiah, and then on you. You were a convenient target. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You’ve been nothing but dependable, helpful and supportive.”
Her words found a place in his own weary soul. “I don’t feel like any of those things.”
She gave him a gentle smile, then reached up and touched his face, her fingers tracing his jaw, rasping over the stubble and making him feel self-conscious. “You are. You sent my parents money even though you weren’t at fault. You never, ever got angry with me, even though I wasn’t always so good to you. You were the first person I thought of when I found out the girls were in trouble, and that told me a lot. I can depend on you.”
“Except I took off.”
A momentary hurt flitted over her face.
“I left because I didn’t want you to have to choose between me and your parents,” he explained. “Your family is close, and you guys feel each other’s pain. In spite of what your parents did, I know they grieved Josiah’s death, and that showed me how much they loved him. And you. I realize they sued because they love you. And, frankly, I am a little jealous of that love. Of that support.”
Shauntelle’s smile grew melancholy. “See? Again. You show yourself to be such a man of integrity, turning my parents’ angry actions into something positive.”
“I don’t feel like such a man of integrity,” he said. “I’ve done nothing heroic, like your husband did.”
“What are you talking about? You crossed a raging river, drove through perilous underbrush, and rescued two damsels in distress and one irresponsible grandfather.” Her smile softened, and she cupped his chin in her hand. “I would say that’s heroic. I would say you’re a man I would want to spend time with.”
He cradled her face in his hands, studying her features, trying to think of how to say the words that were fighting to be spoken.
“I love you,” Shauntelle said. “I love who you are, and everything you do. I don’t care where we end up. I know you’re a man I want at my side.”
Now he could only stare at her, her words washing over him in a wave of love and grace. “How did I come to this? How did I get to this place and hear you say these beautiful things to me?”
“By being the amazing person you are,” Shauntelle said, her voice trembling.
“I love you,” Noah said. “And this may be rushing things, but I don’t think either of us are in a place to dawdle. I think we both know what we want. At least, I know what I want. I don’t have a ring, or a fancy proposal planned, or all the beautiful things you deserve. But I want to marry you. I want you in my life. You and those goofy girls of yours.”
Her eyes shone and her lips trembled, then she nodded. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
He kissed her then, holding her close, still unable to believe this was all happening.
“They’re kissing each other.”
“Are they smiling?”
The whispering voices coming from the family room made Noah draw back. He kept his eyes on Shauntelle, unable to keep the smile from pulling at his lips. “I think we have company,” he said to Shauntelle.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head. But with her arms still around Noah’s waist,
she turned back to the girls, who were peeking through the half-open door.
“You girls may as well come over here,” she said, her voice light with laughter.
The girls needed no further encouragement. They tumbled out of the room and ran straight toward them.
“Are you guys getting married?” Millie asked point-blank.
“Nothing like cutting to the chase,” Noah murmured. He caught Shauntelle’s hand, then turned to the girls. “If it’s okay with you, I would like to marry your mother.”
“Can we live on the ranch?” Millie asked.
“Can we pick our own horses?” Margaret put in.
“Usually in a situation like this, we congratulate the people. We tell them how happy we are for them,” his mother was saying as she approached the tableau.
Millie and Margaret exchanged hurried glances, seeming to contemplate what Noah’s mother had said.
“Is it okay with you?” Noah asked again.
Margaret grabbed Shauntelle, and Millie threw her arms around Noah. Then to his surprise, they both started crying.
Noah shot Shauntelle a puzzled glance. “Does this mean it’s okay?”
“I think it’s been a long day,” Shauntelle said, smiling.
She knelt and pulled both girls into her arms, holding them close.
“Are you happy about this?” she asked.
“So happy,” Millie sobbed.
“I’m ecstatic,” Margaret sniffed.
Shauntelle chuckled and then got to her feet. She rested her hand on Noah’s shoulder and gave him a tender smile. “I think we’re good.”
Noah’s mother joined them and gave Shauntelle a warm hug, then drew back. “I’m so happy for both of you. It’s been a long, difficult journey, but I’m glad you both came home.”
The girls rubbed at their eyes, then gave Noah and Shauntelle wide smiles.
“I guess this means we’re going to be a family,” Margaret said.
“It sure does,” Noah said, bending over and picking her up.
“And I guess we could use a little brother,” Millie said, sniffing. “I think brothers can be fun.”
“Absolutely incorrigible,” Mrs. Cosgrove said with a shake of her head. “At any rate, I think this calls for a celebration. I’m making hot chocolate and pulling out more cookies. We can all sit together and make plans.”
The girls followed his mother to the kitchen. Noah turned to Shauntelle. “More plans? Are you okay with that?”
She smiled at him, then brushed a kiss over his cheek. “I love making plans.”
“Plans for our family,” he said.
“And a little brother?” she asked with a teasing smile.
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” he said.
“Someone has to take over when you’re old and gray,” she said.
He just laughed. She turned to join his mother and her daughters as they set mugs out and filled the plate with cookies. Their happy chatter filled the room that had long been devoid of joy and peace.
Thank You Lord, was all he could think. Thank You for new chances and new hope.
Epilogue
“Three years ago I would not have believed we would be here, together, in this amazing and finished facility,” Cord Walsh said from his place on the podium, looking around the huge gathering in the finished arena. “It’s been a long time coming, but thanks to us all pulling together, it happened. We have a place that will be used by the entire community, and we have an amazing restaurant that will also be appreciated by the entire community.”
Cord gestured to Shauntelle, and everyone broke into polite applause.
“He’s talking about you,” Millie said, nudging her mother.
“I know, honey,” Shauntelle whispered back. She looked over at Noah, who had Margaret perched on his shoulders, the two of them looking so at ease that anyone watching him would not have guessed she wasn’t his biological daughter.
“There’s many people to thank for this accomplishment. Noah for stepping in and helping us finish this, Reuben for giving us advice on how to do it and Morgan for his ongoing moral support. We also want to thank my father, Boyce Walsh, and George Walsh for their financial contributions. There’s a plaque hanging on the wall in the foyer across from the restaurant that lists everyone who helped. Thanks for all you’ve done.”
Owen Herne, who had been standing beside Cord all this time, applauded, then took over the mike.
“I can talk on and on about all the dreams and plans we have for the next rodeo, I can tell you about all the future events we’ll host here, but you all know that already.” Owen grasped the podium and looked around, smiling at his audience. “So I think we should get right to the celebration part of this thing. I declare this arena open for business. And I declare that we should eat the amazing food that Shauntelle Dexter—soon to be Cosgrove—prepared for us and that has been making my mouth water through Cord Walsh’s long and boring speech. Let’s eat and party and have fun!”
This was Shauntelle’s signal to scurry over to the tables holding all the snacks she had worked so hard on.
“Can I give you a hand?” Leanne asked Shauntelle, appearing at her side.
“If you don’t mind keeping an eye on the punch and the coffee, that would be great,” Shauntelle said, tweaking a plate and adjusting a cloth as people lined up.
“I can make sure the plates stay filled,” Tabitha offered.
“I don’t know if you’re the right person for the job,” her fiancé, Morgan, teased her. “You and Nathan will probably spend more time eating than filling them.”
Tabitha looked over at Morgan’s son, who was already licking his lips. “Eating is good, right?”
He was rubbing his hands, eyes wide with anticipation. “Eating is perfect.”
“Can we have a job?”
Shauntelle turned to look at Paul and Susie, Cord’s children. “We can help, and we won’t eat the cookies,” Susie promised her, blinking her eyes much the same way Millie might have.
“I think you can help the twins,” Shauntelle said, adding a smile. They hurried over to the table where the girls were helping Noah’s mother hand out plates and napkins to the people lining up.
“You’re looking a little frazzled,” Noah said, joining her.
“Everybody wants to help, and I appreciate that, but I don’t think I can supervise them all.” She knew she shouldn’t stress, but she so badly wanted everything to turn out well. She had spent days baking and all morning cooking.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Noah said, slipping his arm around her shoulder. “Check it out.”
She looked in the direction he was pointing and saw her mother, Tabitha and Leanne Rennie, and Ella Walsh directing the kids, setting out napkins and hustling about, looking in charge.
“You’re not on your own.”
She drew in a deep breath, then leaned into his embrace, wrapping her own arms around his midsection, her ring flashing in the myriad of overhead lights in the arena. She looked around the space, new and still smelling of paint, and thought of her restaurant behind her, the doors open for people to sit inside and eat.
All around her people laughed and joked, ate and drank. She saw her parents chatting with Boyce Walsh, Cord’s father. Her mother looked her way and smiled at her and Noah, as if granting her a small blessing. She and her mother had a long conversation after Noah and Shauntelle had gotten together. In it Shauntelle urged her mother to let go of her anger and bitterness and forgive Noah. It had taken a few days but her mother had slowly come around and now seemed happy for her. Their eyes held a moment and then her mother’s attention was caught by Millie and Margaret who were laughing at something Paul and Susie said. Ella had Oliver, Cord’s youngest son, perched on one hip as she deftly served up savories. Ernest DeYoung, a horse tr
ainer, was deep in conversation with Morgan—probably vet-related stuff.
Sepp Muraski, the owner of the Brand and Grill, was inspecting the food laid out, sampling it and frowning. Shauntelle had to fight a flicker of nerves. Sepp was just being Sepp, she reminded herself. Kyle was talking to a group of people from the Farmer’s Market who were hanging on his every word.
“I still can’t believe it’s all come together,” she murmured, resting her head on Noah’s chest, filled with such a rush of love for this man who’d helped make it all possible.
“I can’t either, but I can tell you one thing—I’ll be glad to hang up the hammer and be done with the responsibility of running a crew.”
Shauntelle drew back to look up at him, giving him an encouraging smile. “You did a fantastic job,” she said. “But then, you’re such a fantastic person.”
Noah smiled down at her and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “I think you’re biased.”
“Not at all,” she said. “I speak the truth.” Then she grew serious, tightening her arms around his waist. “And the truth is, I love you and I love that we will be a family.”
“And you don’t mind living on the ranch?”
“Why should I? That house is amazing.”
“So you’re just marrying me for my house?” he teased.
“Well, duh. I can’t keep living with my parents forever.”
He laughed, gave her another kiss, and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you, Shauntelle, and I’m so looking forward to living our lives together.”
“Together. I like that word,” Shauntelle said.
“Me too. And now, together, we’re getting some food, and you’re letting all these wonderful people take care of things.”
She laughed, then nodded and followed him to where everyone was standing, laughing, eating and chatting.
Together.
* * * * *
If you loved this story, check out
COURTING THE COWBOY
SECOND CHANCE COWBOY
THE COWBOY’S FAMILY CHRISTMAS
from bestselling author Carolyne Aarsen’s miniseries COWBOYS OF CEDAR RIDGE.
A Cowboy for the Twins Page 18
