Amber cleared her throat as a man, passing Nate on the path, caught his attention and stopped him several feet away to chat. Dylan squealed and Mason kicked, jostling the stroller in her grasp. She glanced around as people mingled at nearby booths.
“Now’s not the best time,” Amber said softly, “but I need to tell you something, too.”
Bobbie Jean looked up. “What?”
She forced a smile. “You know I have three babies, right?”
“Really?” Eyes wide, Bobbie Jean grinned and pressed a hand to her chest. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Nate is their father.”
Bobbie Jean laughed. “Girl, you must’ve got some extra sleep, cuz you’re in rare form tonight.”
“No.” Amber smiled meekly. “I just got kissed, is all. What they’re saying is true.”
Bobbie Jean’s laughter faded. “Wait. You’re serious? About the make-out session with Nate? About him being...”
Amber nodded.
Bobbie Jean looked at the babies, then Nate and back, her head swinging from side to side. “But what about the tourist? The guy who made wild, passionate love to you for a week, then hauled boogie on the loser express?”
“I made him up.”
Bobbie Jean stared at her, mouth hanging open.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Amber whispered as a couple passed on the dirt path. Good Lord, would she never finish apologizing? “We were only together one night, then he left. I guess I was too embarrassed.”
“Too embarrassed to tell your best friend?” She shook her head. “What did you think I was gonna do, Amber?”
“I don’t know. I just wasn’t able to say it out loud—especially to Landon.”
“I’m surprised Landon hasn’t killed him.”
“He doesn’t know,” Amber rushed out, motioning toward the babies. “Other than Nate, you’re the only person I’ve told about Nate being their father. I just told Nate when he came home last week. Before that, he didn’t know I’d gotten pregnant.”
“Geez Louise, it gets worse—”
“Please don’t say anything. Not to anyone.”
“I’d never, not in a million years.” Bobbie Jean blushed and bit her lip. “But I already said such awful things to Nate.”
Amber frowned. “What did you say?”
“That he was an ass.” She spread her hands awkwardly. “Actually, I was referring to the tourist who ran off and left you pregnant, but seeing as how there’s no tourist, I guess at the time, I was calling him one.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose, her voice small. “Oh, you know how my mouth runs off on me sometimes. I told him how badly the tourist—he—broke your heart. And I said I was surprised he was being decent and helping you out with the babies because, normally, people say he’s all about bulls, broncs and women.”
Amber’s stomach dropped. “When did you say all that to him?”
“The night he picked up the babies from my house for Landon.” Her brow furrowed. “It was poker night at Frank’s.”
Wednesday. The same night Nate bowed up at Will, drove her home, then kissed her for the first time since returning to Elk Valley. And the next day when she’d apologized to him at Elk Valley Ranch, he’d been overly considerate to opinionated Darlene and especially sensitive to what others were saying about her and the babies.
Amber glanced at Nate, who’d ended his conversation and resumed walking in her direction. Were Bobbie Jean’s comments the reason he’d claimed he’d never stopped looking back, had taken up kissing her again, holding her gently and whispering about having feelings for her?
To show there was more to him than bulls, broncs and women? That he was—what was the word Bobbie Jean had used?—decent?
“Nate’s coming over,” Bobbie Jean muttered, ducking her head and turning. Her eyes widened as they looked over Amber’s left shoulder. “Oh, no. Landon is, too.”
Amber gnawed her lower lip. “Just act natural.”
Though natural was the furthest thing from how she felt. She rounded the stroller and squeezed Savannah’s hands, warming them between hers. She stared up at Bobbie Jean, who shifted nervously from foot to foot. Bobbie Jean had never been good under pressure.
“Just play it cool, Bobbie Jean,” she whispered. “I don’t know anything about the rumors from last night and you don’t know anything about Nate being...you know.”
“Nope.” Bobbie Jean bobbed her head, her expression tense. “I don’t know anything. Not a thi—”
“Evening, ladies.”
Nate’s boots drew to a halt beside the stroller, his deep voice warming Amber’s belly as he greeted the babies next and kissed their cheeks. They all smiled, Mason the most exuberant of the three, and chortled.
Nate gave Amber a slow smile. “Hey.” His warm hand covered hers and Savannah’s on the stroller as he whispered, “You look fantastic.”
Amber swallowed hard and tried not to stutter. “Thank you. You look nice, too. Only...different.”
His smile brightened. “Thought it was time for a change.” He turned away. “How are you, Bobbie Jean?”
“Fine.” If Bobbie Jean’s fake smile got any bigger, her ears would fall off. “I’m fine, thanks. Just fine. And you?”
Nate looked confused but smiled back. “Fine.”
“Good. That’s good.” Bobbie Jean nodded, seemed to relax, then gestured politely toward him. “It’s great you decided to come to the festival tonight. I was just saying how nice it is to see you and how good you look.” Distracted, she brightened. “Majestic and decent.”
Bobbie Jean’s face flushed, then her mouth opened and closed silently.
Oh, no. Amber knew that look. Bobbie Jean was about to crack. “Bobbie Jean—”
“I mean, d-decent as in nicely dressed.” Bobbie Jean glanced at Amber, cheeks reddening even more. “Not as in—”
“Reformed,” Amber said, straightening.
Nate faced her and frowned.
She met his eyes. “You cut your hair.”
“Yeah.” Nate rubbed the now bare nape of his neck. “Like I said, I thought it was time for a change.”
“What kind of change?” Landon’s low tones and heavy footsteps settled beside Bobbie Jean.
Landon, voice tight and jaw hard-set, placed the money lockbox on the booth, then stared at Nate. They eyed each other, Landon surveying Nate’s fancy new get-up and Nate studying Landon’s determined stance in his usual attire of jeans and a T-shirt.
“A change for the better,” Nate said calmly. He moved to Amber’s side and pressed his big palm to the small of her back.
Amber tensed, the gentle weight of his touch sending pleasure through her but at the same time heightening her awkward discomfort.
“Is that so?” Landon’s eyes narrowed on Nate’s arm as it slid around her waist.
“It is,” Nate said.
“I stopped by the ranch last night.” A muscle ticked by Landon’s mouth. “Thought we could grab a drink and have a talk, but Mac said you’d gone out.”
Nate nodded. “I ran to town for a haircut and some supplies. Wish you would’ve called. I’d have made time to meet you.”
“How ’bout tomorrow?” Landon asked. “It’d be nice to catch up.” He cocked his head to the side. “I’m surprised to see you here tonight. You never used to make a habit of coming to things like this.”
“Like I said, I thought it was time for a change. I decided to drop in and take the rambunctious trio for a stroll. Give Amber a break.” Nate released her, squatted in front of the stroller and smoothed his broad hand over Dylan’s hair. “Wanna go for a ride, rascals?”
Landon’s frown deepened. “Since when did you get so gung-ho on spending a Saturday with babies?”
“These aren’t just any babies.” Nate stood. “They’re—”
> “Restless, impatient babies.” Amber scooted in front of Nate and returned Savannah’s pacifier to her mouth when she finished babbling. “And they’re getting more restless by the minute, so I think they’d enjoy a stroll.” She smiled and looked pointedly at Nate. “Thank you for offering, Nate. I think that’s a great idea.”
His mouth tightened but he remained silent.
“I’ll go with you.” Landon waited as Nate steered the stroller around. “We can take them for a tour of the pumpkin patch. Amber wants to make jack-o’-lanterns tomorrow and it’s a good a time as any to pick a few.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Nate said, glancing at Landon as he fell into step beside him.
Bobbie Jean moved to Amber’s side and they watched them saunter down the dirt path, then enter Exie’s Pumpkin Patch. It took Exie, a cute redhead, less than five seconds to bound over to them. She cooed at the babies, then smiled up at Nate, who joined her in conversation.
“Exie Johnson,” Amber mumbled. “And khakis. What was he thinking chopping off his hair and buying khakis?”
“I like khakis,” Bobbie Jean said. “What’s wrong with khakis?”
“Everything.”
“Man, oh, man.” Bobbie Jean’s lips twitched as she eyed Amber. “This festival just got a lot more interesting.”
“Let’s not pay ’em any attention, okay?” Nerves on edge, Amber grabbed Bobbie Jean’s hand and tugged her toward the booth. “Keep me company? I need to sell the heck out of some pie and cider if I’m ever gonna fix up that third room in the cabin.”
And she tried. She really did. For over an hour Amber smiled at customers, ladled hot apple cider into thick paper cups and stuffed dollar bills into the lockbox. But her attention kept straying toward the pumpkin patch.
Nate continued strolling idly through the maze of pumpkins, he and Landon taking turns holding Savannah and Mason while Dylan bounced happily in the stroller, and every few minutes someone new approached and Nate engaged in friendly conversation. All tame, peaceful, dadgum decent activities.
Oh, God. Amber shook her head. She was an idiot. An utter idiot for falling for Nate’s charm again. First, his friendship with Landon was too important to risk a relationship with her and now, the only reason he may be seeking one was to what? Improve his reputation? Show he was a decent guy?
“Oh, Amber, I could smell that delicious apple cider over a mile away.”
Amber refocused on the line in front of her. Darlene Norton, in all her nosy glory, stood at the counter, a dollar bill in hand and a curious expression on her face.
She forced a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Darlene.”
“I’ll have one, please.” Darlene nodded toward the pumpkin patch as Amber poured a hefty serving of cider into a cup. “I was helping Charlotte choose pumpkins to decorate the bank’s foyer when I ran into your brother. Nate, too, come to think of it.” She took the apple cider and said, “I was telling Charlotte I always thought Nate was a bit wild. Nothing like his brother, Mac. Given his unsavory past, I never expected Nate to amount to much of anything. But tonight I have to say, he looks positively respectable. And he’s so good with your babies. Maybe even as good as Will would be, which is a good thing seeing as how I’ve heard you and Nate are spending time together.”
Amber stiffened. “Mrs. Darl—”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nate behave like such a gentleman,” she continued, lowering her voice. “Let’s just hope it’s not a ruse for something else. A young woman can never be too careful nowadays. Especially one with children as I’m sure you already know.”
Maybe it was Darlene’s tone. Perhaps it was the sympathetic anger in Bobbie Jean’s eyes. Or it could’ve been the eager expressions of gossip hounds Sallie Ann Marsh and Poppy Hadden in line behind Darlene, leaning closer for an earful of dirt. Whatever it was, a saint wouldn’t have had the patience to endure it.
Amber straightened and tossed her hair back. “Nate has always been a gentleman and one of the finest men I know. He doesn’t need to be like Mac and I don’t need advice on what type of man I should have in my life. Maybe I don’t need one at all. But what we both do need is for nosy, sanctimonious busybodies like you to stay out of our business.”
A hush fell over those gathered in line for cider, and an amused squeak erupted from Bobbie Jean’s grin.
“Amber Leigh Eason.” Darlene’s hand shook around her cup of cider. “I thought your mother raised you better than to speak to someone in such a way.”
“Well, my mama, God rest her soul, will just have to forgive me.” She smacked the ladle against the bowl of cider. “Whoever’s next in line, get your butt up here.”
Amber tried to shake it off but Darlene’s shocked expression and indignant huff stayed with her long after the other woman had left the booth.
How could Nate have caved to Elk Valley pressure, cut his hair and donned clothes he’d never ordinarily wear just to impress people like Darlene Norton? Had he actually bought into the belief that a few bad decisions meant he wasn’t a decent guy?
Because he was. Despite his nomadic tendencies, commitment phobias and her own attempts to make herself believe otherwise, Nate was a good man. Otherwise, she would never have fallen in love with him.
Had—oh, Lord—never actually stopped loving him.
Amber’s heart tripped at the realization. Okay. To be honest, maybe she did still love him. But the thought did more than scare her. It shot a bolt of rage through her.
How could Nate be so blind? How could he not see how good a man he really was? And where did he get off posing with her and their children, pretending to be someone he wasn’t just to score points with the neighbors?
Irritation spiking, she tossed the ladle into the punch bowl, cringing as apple cider splashed all over the front of her shirt. “Sorry, folks. This booth is closed.” She shut the lockbox and scooped it under her arm, saying over her shoulder, “Can I call you later, Bobbie Jean?”
“Of course,” she said. “But where are you going?”
“To put a stop to something,” Amber muttered, heading toward the pumpkin patch.
Right now.
* * *
It’d never been difficult for Nate to spot the signs of Amber’s anger. But in this instance, if her dark scowl and fiercely swinging arms didn’t tip him off, then the trail of smashed pumpkins her stomping boots left behind would.
“Amber!” Exie Johnson, owner of said pumpkins, looked on in horror from across the small field.
Amber drew to a halt in front of Nate, glanced behind her and had the good grace to wince. “I’m so sorry, Exie,” she called out. “Please ring ’em up and I’ll pay for them.” She spun back around, cheeks flushed and blue eyes narrowing up at him. “I need to speak with you.”
“You all right?” Nate shifted Savannah to his other hip and took in the wet stain spreading across Amber’s white blouse, plastering it to her belly. “What happened to your shirt?”
“Nothing.” She looked at Savannah, seemed to steady herself, then asked calmly, “Is she asleep?”
“Yeah.” He smoothed his hand over Savannah’s back, smiling as she snuggled against him. “Mason’s been a bit cranky but Dylan conked out twenty minutes ago, too.”
Right before Exie’s third bout of flirting with him and Landon and just after Darlene Norton’s interrogation of Nate’s whereabouts and actions during the past year and a half.
He gritted his teeth at the memory. It’d taken every ounce of good training he had not to turn his back on the woman and walk away. But his patience had paid off. Darlene, as well as several other Elk Valley citizens in good standing, had left impressed with his new duds and conciliatory attitude. Even Landon, tense and standoffish at first, had thawed as they’d walked with the babies. He’d even relaxed back into their easy banter, though Nate could still tell something weighed on h
is mind. No telling what he’d heard circulating around town by now.
“Amber, what’s going on?” Landon pushed the stroller over, Dylan sleeping and Mason babbling inside, and raised his brows at Amber. “You realize you just trampled over sixty dollars’ worth of pumpkins? Exie’s having a conniption.”
“I’m sorry.” Amber dragged a hand through her hair. “And I’ll tell her I’m sorry again when I pay for them. I just need to talk to Nate in private.”
Nate tensed. The heavy note in her voice sent a wave of unease through him. He tugged at the tight collar of his shirt, the stiff material feeling more confining than ever.
Landon glanced from Amber to him then back. “Something wrong?”
“No.” Amber looked down and tugged at her soggy shirt. “There’s just something important I need to discuss with him.”
“Uh-huh.” Landon moved to speak but seemed to think better of it. He glanced at the curious onlookers surrounding the smashed pumpkins. “Seeing as how I’m not interested in us becoming the entertainment for the day, it’s probably a good idea you have this talk somewhere else and get whatever’s going on with you out of your system.” He reached for Savannah. “I take it you closed the booth?”
Amber nodded. “I put the lockbox in the SUV and I’ll pack up after Nate and I talk.”
“How long y’all gonna be?” Landon asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m meeting Frank and Jennifer at the barbecue pit, then I’ll take these guys to your place and get ’em fed and bathed,” Landon said. He gently settled Savannah in the stroller, then looked at Nate. “You giving her a ride home afterward?”
Nate nodded. “Yeah.”
Landon waited as Amber kissed the babies goodbye, then left, shooting glances at her and Nate as he navigated the stroller through the crowded path.
Nate turned back to Amber, studying the tight set of her shoulders and hard glint in her eyes. “What’s happened, Amber?” A breeze ruffled one of her long curls forward, a wisp of it clinging to the corner of her lips. “Did someone do something to upset you?”
Home on the Ranch: Tennessee Bull Rider Page 10
