by Joanna Sims
“Right here.” Clint handed her a glass of nonalcoholic sparkling cider. He picked up his half-empty beer bottle for a toast. “Here’s to unusual beginnings.”
“Unusual beginnings.” She touched her glass to his.
“This reminds me of our dinners when we first met. You made the best fish, you really did, but holy moly did I get sick of it.”
“Fish is on the menu,” Clint said wryly. “It’s the only thing I really know how to cook.”
“And I will enjoy every bite,” Taylor said. “Promise.”
Clint had saved some herbs from the CDT and he used them that night. The smell took her back to all of those nights they had spent talking around the campfire. No matter how much talking they did, they always seemed to have more to say.
“Hey—you aren’t smoking!”
“Gave it up.” Clint cut the fish in half with a spatula and put half of the cooked fish on her plate and half on his.
“You gave it up? Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Taylor picked up her fork, but let it hover for a minute above the plate. “Okay—I’m amazed. What made you do that?”
“I figured it was time,” Clint said before he took a bite of the fish. “My pop had emphysema, was sick with it for years—that’s not my road.”
Taylor took a bite of her fish. “Mmm. So good.” After another bite, she added, “And I’m glad, by the way—about the smoking. Penny needs you healthy.”
The fish was delicious; and the notes of Clint’s harmonica, along with the view of the three-quarter moon casting a light on the mountain peaks in the distance made her feel calm and tranquil.
“Thank you for this,” Taylor said to her cowboy. “I had no idea how much I needed this break.”
“You’re welcome.” Clint tucked his harmonica in his shirt pocket before he stood up. “I’ve fed you and serenaded you and now I need to talk to you.”
Clint moved his chair so it was facing hers, sat down and took her hands in his.
“You know, before I got back out on the road, all I could think about was getting’ back out there. I woke up in the morning and thought about the road. I put in a day’s work and the whole day long I thought about the road. But when I finally got out there again...”
He paused, wishing he knew how his next words were going to be received. “When I finally got what I wanted and got back out there...all I could think about was you.”
“Oh, Clint...thank you.”
“I don’t want you to thank me—God, don’t thank me—that’s what you say right before you give a guy the ‘let’s be friends’ heave-ho.”
That got the first genuine smile out of Taylor. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant—thank you for thinking about me. I thought about you too—all of the time.”
“Good.” The cowboy nodded. “That’s good.”
Clint pulled a ring out of his front pocket and looked at it. “I couldn’t get you one like the last one you had...this one don’t even come with a pretty box.”
Taylor stared at the ring that Clint held between his thumb and forefinger. It had a thin white-gold band, antique filigree and tiny white diamonds surrounding a small, round yellow stone.
“Clint...” She said his name so he would look up at her. “I don’t want another ring like my last one. I didn’t want that one. I like simple and classic. You should know that about me by now.”
“I do. I do know that. I looked at a lot of rings on my errand today...” He looked at her with a smirk. “This is the one that looked like you...to me.”
It was such a pretty, sweet little ring. “It looks like a daisy.”
He stared at this woman who had changed his life so completely. She’d given him his old life back—and he’d discovered that he didn’t want it anymore. He wanted something completely different. He wanted a new life, a different kind of life, with Taylor.
“I wanted you to know that all of those months I was out on the road, our talks meant a lot to me. It didn’t start out this way between you and me, but I love you, Taylor. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone in my life. And I love that little girl. I want to be her dad—I want to be your husband. I want us to be a family.”
Amazed, Taylor could only listen to the wonderful words Clint was saying to her. They had grown close, but she hadn’t had an inkling that he was thinking of proposing.
“I love you, Taylor,” Clint said in a husky voice. “I want you to be my wife.”
“And I love you.” Those words were so easy for Taylor to say. There was a time that she thought she’d never say it to another man, ever again. But saying it to Clint was as natural as taking a breath.
“And—I think that Penelope deserves to have a mommy and a daddy. She deserves to have a family.”
“Is there a yes in there somewhere?”
Taylor laughed. “Yes—there’s a yes.”
Clint slipped the ring onto her finger and she held up her hand so the fire from the light would catch the facets of the stones. “It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever had, Clint. Thank you.”
Clint responded by putting his hands on either side of her face and kissing her, long and deep and sweet.
“We had a child, now we’re getting married.” She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “We’re doing everything backwards, you and me.”
“I don’t care which way we do it, sunshine,” the cowboy said. “Just as long as I get to do it with you.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Taylor was back at the rental house.
She had finally decided that it was time to face it and get on with life. All of her clothes were at that house, and everything she needed for Penelope was in the nursery. It was time to go home.
She moved in front of the computer camera. “Here...how does this look?”
“I really like that one.” Casey gave her a thumb’s up. “And, I am happy for you, by the way... I just don’t understand why you can’t put the ceremony off until I can get off work.”
Taylor was kneeling in front of her closet looking for a specific pair of shoes. “Because the world doesn’t revolve around you, Casey. That’s why. Clint and I don’t want to wait. We have the license, we have the rings and we have Penny. That’s all we need.”
“Not one person from our family is going to be there,” Casey grumbled. “I should be at your wedding.”
“We’re going to have a reception down the road after Penny’s home. You can come to that.” Taylor held up two pairs of heels. “Which ones? These or these?”
Casey leaned into the camera to study the two shoe options. “Those, I guess. But then again, what should one wear to a NICU wedding?”
“Quit being bitter.” Taylor threw the rejected pair of shoes toward the closet and slipped on the pumps that her sister had selected. “Okay—here’s the best I’m gonna do on short notice. What’s the verdict?”
Casey watched her sister spin in a circle wearing a figure-flattering cobalt-blue wrap dress and a pretty pair of embellished heels.
“It’s a little dressy for day, I know...” Taylor frowned down at her shoes.
“It’s perfect, Tay.” Casey finally relented to the reality that her sister had chosen to have a simple ceremony that she wouldn’t be able to attend. “You look beautiful. Really happy.”
“I am happy.” Taylor sat down on the bed next to the computer. “I don’t want to wait anymore, Casey. After losing...” Taylor had to stop talking, quiet her emotions and then restart. “After losing Michael, I understood—I mean genuinely understood what it meant to not take one moment of life for granted. I love Clint. Clint loves me. And we both want to give Penny the family she deserves.”
“I know... I know. I just wish I could be there to celebrate with you. That’s all.”
“I wish you could, too. But, you have to work. Nick has to work. Dad has to work. Mom doesn’t have to work, but you know she would be passive-aggressive, she would find a way to make me feel badly about my weight and drink too much before noon.”
Casey laughed. “All right—you win. Probably better just the two of you.”
“I rest my case.” Taylor blew her sister a kiss goodbye and then ended the video chat.
It was her wedding day. Unbelievable. She was getting married to her cowboy. They could shred their baby bargain and make an entirely new bargain—to love each other, and Penny, for as long as they both shall live.
* * *
“There you are.” Clint was waiting for her in the hallway just outside of the NICU double doors. “I was startin’ to think that you changed your mind.”
“I’m sorry—my sister was upset that we’re going ahead with the wedding without her. I had to smooth things over.”
Taylor hugged her cowboy and then kissed him on the lips. “Hi, cowboy.”
“Hi, sunshine.”
“Are you ready?” she asked him. Her skin was starting to feel hot and flushed from nerves, and from excitement and adrenaline shooting through her body.
“I’ve been waitin’ on you,” he teased her with a wink. The cowboy seemed nervous, too—he was fidgeting in his white shirt and blue blazer.
“You look mighty fine in that dress...” Clint’s eyes made an appreciative tour of the curves of his bride-to-be’s body. “Mighty fine.”
She made a little curtsy. “Thank you kindly, cowboy. May I say that you are looking very handsome yourself?”
“All day long and twice on Sunday.”
They were in the middle of another kiss when the hospital chaplain arrived to perform the ceremony. The NICU staff, who had started to feel like family, would serve as their witnesses and, of course, Penelope would be with them.
The nurses who had been so instrumental in stabilizing and caring for Penelope in those crucial first days of her life had scheduled their breaks together so they could witness the ceremony. Clint held Penelope and proudly stood next to Taylor, who looked more beautiful today than any other day before. How could a poor kid who had barely made it out of high school end up with a classy woman like Taylor? It didn’t compute and he didn’t care. He was the luckiest bastard he knew—that was all that really mattered.
“And now—the bride and the groom have written their own vows.”
Taylor faced her unlikely husband-to-be and hoped that she could remember everything she had planned to say. She wished now that she had written it down instead of trying to keep it “romantic” by memorizing.
“Clint—I love you. You’re smart and funny...you make me laugh all of the time and you always try to make me feel good about myself. Thank you for giving me the most amazing gift I have ever been given—our daughter Penelope Melissa McAllister. Thanks to you, I am going to be what I’ve always wanted to be most—a wife and a mother. I promise to love you and take care of you for the rest of my life. I promise to be faithful and kind and honest. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you.”
Clint kissed her hand and she could tell that her vows had touched him. There were tears in his eyes; those tears only made her love him more.
“Taylor—I have never met another woman like you in my life. You are so beautiful and so loving—you are kind to everyone who meets you. I will never know how I ended up deservin’ a woman like you. I’m still not sure that I do. But I promise you that I will spend every day of the rest of our lives workin’ to deserve you.” He stared into her eyes when he said the next words. “Thank you for Penelope. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife. I love you so much, Taylor. That’s all I can really say... I love you so much. I’m gonna do my very best to do right by you and our daughter.”
“And now we will exchange the rings,” the chaplain said.
Clint slipped a simple white band of white gold onto her finger and she placed a matching white-gold band on his. They stood together, the three of them, mother, father and baby, while the chaplain pronounced them husband and wife.
“You may now kiss the bride...”
For the first time, they kissed each other as husband and wife. Then Taylor said with a happy laugh, “You may now kiss the baby.”
* * *
They decided to spend their first night as a married couple in Taylor’s rented bungalow. It was inevitable that Clint would return to the rodeo circuit once Penelope was given the green light to go home. Bent Tree Ranch was an option as a place for them to live, and one that Taylor had decided to take before Clint had proposed. But now that didn’t seem realistic. How could she live in a house where Clint was persona non grata?
Hank refused, to date, to forgive Clint for what he considered to be a betrayal of trust. Right, wrong, good, bad or indifferent, the ranch had to be taken off the table. The rental house was the best available option. She had returned to it, and even though she hadn’t yet opened the door to the nursery, she had discovered that it actually felt good to be back in her own space.
For dinner they ordered takeout, and their first night as a married couple involved a hot shower, pajamas and an early night. Truthfully, they hadn’t spent that many nights sleeping in the same bed. She had grown accustomed to sprawling out, on her stomach, arms and legs spread-eagled from one side of the queen-size bed to the other. Sharing the bed might prove to be problematic.
After kicking the sheets loose so her toes weren’t scrunched up at the bottom of the bed, Taylor gently turned onto her stomach, careful not to pull on the stitches still in place after her surgery. She had to sleep on her stomach or she wouldn’t fall asleep.
“I can’t spoon. Remember?” she explained. “I get too hot.”
Clint was on his back, one leg on top of the sheet, his hands resting on his stomach. “That’s okay.”
Several minutes of silence passed before Taylor spoke again. “Are you upset that we can’t make love?”
He reached over and put his hand on her arm to reassure her. “I want you to be okay. Your doctor said six weeks—we’ll wait six weeks. If it’s longer, it’s longer.
“Don’t keep yourself awake worrying about it, sunshine.” Clint turned onto his side so he could kiss her on the lips. “We have the rest of our lives to make love. Go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“Good night,” Taylor said. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Not too soon after her new husband spoke those three words, his breathing steadied and she knew that he had already fallen asleep. It was true that her suggested recovery time post C-section had put the brakes on their wedding night, but it was still kind of a bummer to spend their first night as a married couple in bed and—in Clint’s case—asleep before nine. Perhaps it wouldn’t feel that way if she weren’t the only one awake. But she was. And she was still awake an hour later. Frustrated, she wrestled the sheet and the blanket off of her body and sat up on the edge of the bed. She needed to get up for a while and try again later.
Taylor slipped on a robe, closed the bedroom door behind her and went into the kitchen to raid the refrigerator. Luke and Sophia had left a congratulatory basket filled with all sorts of goodies on their doorstep. Taylor picked through the basket and found a small box of Godiva chocolates.
“Come to mama.” Taylor pulled at the cellophane wrapping.
She leaned against the kitchen counter and one by one ate all of the chocolates in the box. Sadly, when she was done, she only wanted more. Another couple of minutes rummaging through the basket turned up some chocolate-covered mints, and Taylor took them to the couch. She couldn’t find anything to watch on TV, soon the chocolate-covered mints were gone and she still d
idn’t feel the least bit tired. What was keeping her awake? Why couldn’t she sleep when her body felt so unbelievably tired?
There was simply no use avoiding it any longer—the nursery was the last place in the bungalow that she hadn’t been able to enter. It bothered her to have a hang-up like that; it didn’t matter that she had a legitimate reason. Of course she did. But if she continued to avoid that room—a room that would be a beautiful place for Penny to spend her first year—would it lessen the sorrow she felt for Michael? The pain of losing her son was like a burning pain deep in her tissue that throbbed and ached all of the time. It was always there. It was hard to imagine that it would ever completely go away.
It took some self-talk to motivate her to get off the couch and tackle the elephant in the room that was the nursery. In her mind, it had to be done, and since it was obviously keeping her awake she might as well deal with it right now. At the door of the nursery Taylor stopped, her hand on the doorknob that was cold from the AC vent blowing in the narrow hallway. She closed her eyes in order to stiffen her resolve. She needed to break the stigma of the nursery that she had created in her mind.
“Just do it, Taylor,” she whispered aloud.
The door, a door that had seemed like such a heavy weight, swung open as if it weighed nothing. Why was she surprised that everything was as neat as a pin, exactly as she had left it? She had undergone a dramatic shift on the inside, so it was hard to compute that everything else and everyone else hadn’t shifted with her.
Taylor walked over to the side-by-side cribs. Which one would have been Michael’s? She couldn’t know. At the time she had set up the room, she didn’t know she was carrying fraternal twins—a girl and a boy. She had only known how much she loved them; she had only known how she was counting the days until she could kiss them and sing to them and hold them in her arms.
Taylor picked up a quilt from one of the cribs and held it up to her face. She breathed in the clean scent and rubbed the soft material over her cheek. With the quilt still in hand, Taylor sat down in the rocking chair. She wrapped her arms around the quilt, hugged it tight and started to rock slowly back and forth. Tears, tears that she had pushed down and pushed back in order to get on with things for Penelope, slid down her cheeks and dropped, one after another, onto the quilt.
