Father for Her Newborn Baby (Cowboys, Doctors...Daddies)

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Father for Her Newborn Baby (Cowboys, Doctors...Daddies) Page 17

by Lynne Marshall


  “Maybe it went to my head a little.” The toughest memory of his life flashed before him. “I sure as hell never expected to break my neck.”

  “Yeah, you went and let that horse almost throw you into a funeral parlor, and—”

  Cole knee-jerked the challenge; he leaned forward to make his point. “I didn’t let it happen, it just happened.” Yeah, his voice might have sounded gruffer than he’d meant.

  “You made a poor choice that day, riding bareback for that girl.”

  “I was fifteen.” I had just made love for the first time in my life the night before with the girl of my dreams. Yet he couldn’t deny the truth. “And you never did anything stupid when you were young, right?”

  “Like I said, we’re a lot alike. That’s why I’ve always been so hard on you. That’s why I expected you’d take over the ranch one day. I couldn’t believe how you dumped anything to do with horses, rodeo and ranching after you broke your neck.”

  Cole wanted to scrub his face in frustration, but he sat still, willing himself to stay calm and talk this out with his father, not to let this conversation turn into a yelling fest like all the others. “I found a different calling, Dad.” He changed the tone of his voice. “I honestly believe I was meant to be a doctor.”

  “And you had to drag your brother along, too.”

  “That was his choice.”

  Cole could see the fight slip out of his father. “And now I’m getting too old to run this ranch and I don’t have anyone to step in, to keep it running, just a couple of fancy doctors for sons.”

  Cole couldn’t let the slight slide by. “You know, I do save lives. How come I’ve never gotten the feeling that you respect what I do?”

  “Of course I respect what you do. I’m proud of you, always have been, but that doesn’t fix my ranching problem, does it?”

  Cole rested his elbows on his thighs, waiting to make eye contact with his dad. Wasn’t this the perfect example for how he’d learned to be selfish? “Not everyone is meant to be a rancher, Dad, not even the sons of the best rancher in these parts.”

  “You’d think that at least one of you would have taken an interest.” Tiberius leaned his head against the cushiony chair, squeezing his eyes closed like a little frustrated kid.

  “You’ve got the best man for the job right under your nose and you can’t even see it.”

  “Trevor?” One eye popped open. “Hell, he’s too busy with the clinic and my grandson and that new wife of his.”

  “Jack, Dad. Your foreman knows this ranch inside out. He’s been working here for, what, twenty years?”

  Now both eyes were open and ready for a fight. “Of course he knows the ranch but he doesn’t have an ounce of business savvy.”

  “Trevor’s good with bookkeeping.”

  “I’m talking about connections. Finding new venues to sell our steer for meat. Without buyers, we’re nothing. We won’t have a future. Do you know how many people are vegetarians these days?”

  Cole chuckled. It had never occurred to him exactly how many hats his father had worn running Circle M all these years. It wasn’t just about tending steer and selling them for the best price—he had set up the buyers and accounted for all the business investments along the way, too. Not to mention raising his boys and taking care of his wife. Hell, the man had probably only taken three vacations in his entire adult life. His health was waning and he couldn’t keep up anymore. Cole weaved his fingers together and thought that was the sad and undeniable truth. He finally understood it was time to pitch in and help, just as Trevor already had.

  “I’ve got connections all over the country. You tell me what you need, and I’ll do my best to open some doors for our steer. We can make this a family business, but with the help of Jack. Isn’t it about time you made him a Circle M partner?”

  He could see the surprise and glimmer of hope in his father’s milky eyes at the prospect of making Circle M Ranch a group business. A small corporation. Maybe it wouldn’t be a traditional family business, as he’d always hoped for, but wasn’t that the way of the world now?

  “I’ll think about it.” Tiberius crinkled his brow, already considering the change.

  Cole reached across and squeezed his father’s forearm. “Dad, one more thing.” How should he put this? Probably best to keep it simple, and straight. “I haven’t told you nearly enough. Hell, probably never.” He waited for his father’s gaze to rise so he could look him in the eyes. “I admire you. You made something out of your life. You started out with nothing. Not many people can claim that. In case you’re still wondering, I do respect you.”

  He’d hit home on that one. His father’s eyes got watery, his lower lip quivery as the compliment sank in. “And I’ve always been proud of you, Cole. Sorry I wasn’t so good at showing it.”

  “Like I said, or was it you who said it?” A wry smile twisted Cole’s lips. “We’re a lot more alike than we’d ever like to admit.”

  In the next second Cole felt a cool hand on top of his, and something about his father’s bony grip warmed a huge and growing area smack in the middle of his chest.

  EPILOGUE

  Two months later. A cool and crisp Saturday afternoon in autumn…

  FOR THE SECOND TIME in four months Cole wore a suit and waited for a wedding to start. But this was a brand-new Western-styled tuxedo, not that other city-style deal with the bad memories. The small group of guests gathered near the mossy pond beside the cluster of Glory Red maple trees on the Circle M Ranch.

  Tiberius had promised a big surprise and instructed Cole to quit looking at his watch and enjoy the day. He stood beneath the portable seven-foot pergola draped with sparkly white chiffon and bright-colored Gerbera daisies, breathing in the chilled air and letting it calm him. Was he really getting married one month before his forty-first birthday, to a woman only halfway through her twenties?

  He grinned to himself. You bet he was, and she was the most beautiful woman in the world, as a matter of fact. The best choice he could ever make.

  He glanced at his soon-to-be daughter, dressed like a little white fairy in the arms of his new sister-in-law, Julie, then noticed the tiny silver slippers Flora wore and grinned even more. He’d never totally understood the word cute until he’d met that baby.

  Trevor waited at the back of the rows of chairs instead of standing by his side as his best man. Cole figured there must be a reason and stood where he’d been placed like a good unquestioning boy. A first!

  Tiberius had agreed to walk Lizzie down the aisle—if you could call a path covered in windblown autumn leaves an aisle. The guests sat on white vinyl foldable chairs that Trevor’s son, James, had spent all morning setting up. The rows were crooked, seeming more diagonal than straight, but what did Cole expect from a thirteen-year-old? And they served their purpose. He wasn’t about to complain.

  Soft Celtic string music started playing through speakers and all eyes traveled toward the grove of trees on the opposite side of the pond. Cole’s pulse jumped as he watched and waited for his bride.

  Slowly emerging from the ash and maples came one, then two young women dressed in cocktail-length dresses, red like the leaves on the maple trees. Lizzie had chosen her two newest friends to be her bridesmaids. Both had started out as acquaintances at the clinic but one had become Flora’s caregiver, Gina, and the other was Rita the receptionist. This time around, instead of catching the bouquet, Rita got to carry one.

  Next Zebulon walked between the trees and, just as Cole wondered what in the world the horse was doing there, the most beautiful sight Cole had ever seen appeared. Lizzie sat sidesaddle, straight and confident, her flowing white dress blanketing the horse’s entire back, loins-to-tail and all the way down his belly. The ball-gown cut of her dress made a wide V across her shoulders and dipped to the top of her breasts. A thick, sparkly pearl belt cinched in her waist. She didn’t wear a veil, just a feathery flower on the side of her head, and Cole was happy to see she’d left her ha
ir down, with tiny braids weaving an intricate pattern around her head. Breathtaking. Especially knowing that beneath that dress she wore the garter he’d caught at his brother’s wedding. His heart had never felt as full as now, with this vision of his soon-to-be wife.

  So that was what all those Saturday-afternoon horseback rides with his father were about. Lizzie had embraced Wyoming life with a vengeance since they’d gotten engaged and she’d committed to becoming a family-practice doctor like his brother. The old ranch hadn’t felt this much like home since his mother had died. He glanced upward—I hope you’re watching—then to the front row.

  In honor of Lizzie’s grandmother and her favorite foster mother, Janie Tuttle, two chairs had been left empty on the bride’s side. A third reserved chair had been placed on the groom’s side for his mom.

  With Zebulon pacing the bridesmaids, and the violin music swelling, Lizzie held the reins comfortably and single-handedly, wearing elbow-length fingerless white lace gloves. With the other hand, she held a fire-burst-colored bouquet.

  She circled the mossy pond under the bright blue sky, with occasional puffy white clouds floating overhead, trees in a range of fall colors surrounding her and the hauntingly romantic music drifting on the wind. A perfect moment. The love of his life was coming to him, to take her vows to love and honor, as he would her. He’d cherish her no matter what lay ahead, never more determined to put another person’s needs and desires before his own.

  It occurred to Cole that his father and brother both understood, and he’d never felt closer to them than right now.

  His brother met Lizzie at the back of the chairs as the bridesmaids paced the makeshift outdoor aisle toward the arbor, where Cole waited. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, afraid if he looked away this moment might disappear. Trevor lifted Lizzie from the horse, then let Gretchen adjust the train of the dress before she made her final walk down the aisle on the arm of her new father-in-law, the obviously proud Tiberius Montgomery…to him.

  Lizzie’s amazing green stare connected with his and melded, sending waves of love to ripple over him, her angelic smile stealing his breath. His father handed her over to him and stepped back as the pastor began the ceremony, but Cole couldn’t quit looking at her.

  Holding her cool, mildly trembling hand, he thought how fragile his bride was beneath her confident exterior. He promised to protect and treasure her, and as the rest of the vows became a blur he saw only Lizzie, until the pastor prompted him to say the best and most important words of his life.

  “I do.”

  *

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  ISBN-13: 9781460389669

  Father for Her Newborn Baby

  Copyright © 2015 by Janet Maarschalk

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