Home To Blue Stallion Ranch (Men 0f The West Book 42)

by Stella Bagwell

  Emily-Ann made a palms-up gesture. “I’m not much of a town historian, but it’s to celebrate how the ranchers and miners first got the town going. Which was back in 1863—even a few years before the big city of Phoenix came into existence.”

  “That’s interesting. So do very many people show up for Gold Rush Days?”

  “Thousands and that is no exaggeration. It’s always a busy time for everyone in town. Even with this street being off the beaten path, I get lots of extra customers. You should come join the fun. There’s even a gold panning event. Who knows, you might get lucky and find a nugget.” She cast Isabelle a clever look. “But from what I’m hearing, you’ve already found your nugget.”

  The doughnut in Isabelle’s hand paused halfway to her mouth. “Me? I haven’t been panning for gold. Even though Ollie and Sol tell me there might be some on my property. From what they say, one of the richest gold mines ever was somewhere in this area.” She shrugged. “But I don’t have time to chase after a fortune in yellow mineral. My dream is pastures filled with horses.”

  “Hmm. I thought since you started seeing Holt, your dreams might include a husband and children.”

  Isabelle stared at her. “Where did you hear that Holt and I were—seeing each other?”

  Emily-Ann giggled. “Holt’s sister Camille told me. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Her mother and sister keep her caught up on family happenings. Have you met all the Hollisters yet?”

  Holt had been coming over to Blue Stallion Ranch to be with her almost every night, but so far he’d not invited her to Three Rivers or suggested she meet his family. Isabelle had been telling herself that none of that was important. The two of them hadn’t been together for that long. They needed to focus on each other first before his family or her mother were involved.

  Isabelle said, “The subject of meeting his family hasn’t come up.”

  “Well, I figure it will. From what Camille says, the whole family believes he’s besotted with you.”

  Isabelle made a scoffing noise. “Then they’re overblowing the whole situation. Holt isn’t falling for me. We’re just—enjoying each other’s company—for now.”

  Emily-Ann shook her head. “It’s exciting to think of you and Holt together, but I’m kinda glad you’re saying it’s not serious with you two. Holt is gorgeous and sexy, but it would be heartbreaking to end up being just a notch on his belt. I’d rather have a simple man who loves me for real. Wouldn’t you?”

  Real love. That’s what Isabelle wanted more than anything. And sometimes when she was in Holt’s arms, when he was kissing her, touching her, she thought she felt love in the touch of his fingers, the taste of his lips. But she was afraid to believe or hope his feelings were the real thing.

  “You couldn’t have said it better.” Isabelle reached across the table and patted her friend’s hand. “What about you? Have you found anything close to that ‘simple man’?”

  “Me?” Her short laugh was scornful. “I’ve quit looking. There’s something about me that turns men off. My red hair and freckles, I guess. Or I’m too big and gawky, or maybe I talk too much, I don’t know. Anyway, most of the guys around here I’ve been acquainted with all my life. And they know about—”

  Isabelle noted the somber expression on her friend’s face. “About what? Or would you rather not tell me?”

  Emily-Ann’s gaze dropped to the tabletop. “It’s hardly a secret. I’m from the wrong side of the track, I guess you’d say. My real father left town right after I was born. He never married my mother. She was from a poor background and his folks would’ve never stood for their son to marry a girl like my mom. Even though she was pretty and hardworking and honest—that wasn’t enough. You know the kind.”

  Isabelle nodded. “Unfortunately those kind of snobbish people are very easy to find.”

  “Well, anyway, my grandparents kicked my mom out of the house. They never could forgive her for having a child out of wedlock. And just between you and me, I don’t think they wanted to spend any money to help support us. But somehow Mom managed on her own to care for the both of us. Until she finally married a salesman who showed up one day in Wickenburg. He filled my mother’s head with all sorts of big dreams. But he was nothing but a blowhard. None of the promises he made ever materialized. But the old saying about love being blind must be true. Mom believed every word he said. When she died, she was still waiting for the nice house and all the things that would’ve made her life easier.”

  “I’m sorry your mother is gone. And sorry that her dreams didn’t come true,” Isabelle said gently. “Does your stepfather still live here in Wickenburg?”

  “No. Shortly after Mom died, he left and no one has seen or heard from him since. That’s been ten or more years ago.” She let out a long sigh. “So you see, I’m not exactly the sort of gal a guy takes home to meet Mama.”

  Isabelle grimaced. “That’s ridiculous. You had nothing to do with your mother’s decisions, or the way her family treated her.”

  “Isabelle, it’s just like spilling something. The stain keeps spreading and spreading. That’s how it is with me. The past spilled over and I can’t outrun it or wash it off.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be trying to outrun or wash anything,” Isabelle gently scolded. “And you know what I think? Some really nice guy is going to show up in your life and he’s going to make you see just how special you are.”

  Emily-Ann’s eyes grew misty as she gave Isabelle a grateful smile. “I’m so happy you came to live here, Isabelle.”

  “You know what, I’m pretty happy about it, too.”

  Blue Stallion Ranch was a beautiful piece of Arizona. The rugged hills and desert floors that made up the property were everything she’d been looking for. Given time and work and money, it would be thriving again. And the prospect was exciting.

  But this past week and a half since she’d welcomed Holt into her bed, she’d come to realize that her dream of a horse ranch wasn’t enough to give her complete happiness. Nothing would mean anything without him at her side.

  She’d tried to gloss it all over with Emily-Ann and pretend that what she felt for Holt wasn’t serious. But she couldn’t delude herself. She was falling for the cowboy in the worst kind of way. Now she could only pray she wouldn’t end up being just another name in his little black book.

  * * *

  When Holt unsaddled the two-year-old and started toward the ranch house, it was already dark. Any other time, he would’ve been feeling the fatigue of being in the saddle for the past five hours, but this evening he actually had a spring in his step. He was going to see Isabelle. He was going to talk to her and listen to her talk to him. He was going to eat with her, sleep with her, and make slow, delicious love with her. In short, being with Isabelle was like stepping into paradise. Just the thought was enough to push the tiredness from his body.

  As soon as he entered the back of the house and let himself into the kitchen, he knew something out of the ordinary was going on. The room was full of womenfolk scurrying from one task to the next, including his sister Vivian.

  She was standing at the cabinet counter, placing tiny appetizers on a silver tray. Wearing a vivid green dress that flowed over her pregnant waistline, she looked like she was dressed for a party.

  “Sis, what are you doing here?”

  She looked up and, with a huge smile, walked straight into his arms. “Hello, my naughty little brother!” Considering the girth of her belly, she gave him the best bear hug she could manage. “I thought I was going to have to go drag you out of the saddle to get you up here to the house!”

  He dropped a kiss on the top of her red head. “If I’d known you were here, I would’ve shown up sooner. What’s going on anyway? Is it someone’s birthday?”

  She laughed and not for the first time Holt thought how beautiful she looked now that she was carrying her a
nd Sawyer’s twins. Her face glowed and there was a shine in her eyes that mirrored her happiness.

  “Have you been hiding under a rock? Gold Rush Days are starting Thursday and Mom always throws a little party beforehand.”

  Oh, Lord, none of that had entered his mind. “Uh—yeah. It—just slipped my mind.” He glanced quickly around the room. “Is Sawyer here? And Savannah?”

  “They wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Onida came, too.” She winked slyly. “I think she didn’t want to miss the opportunity of seeing Sam. She thinks he’s a real gentleman.”

  Sam was the crusty old cowboy who worked as foreman for Tessa and Joseph’s ranch, the Bar X. So if Sam was here, that meant Tessa and Joseph and Little Joe were here, also. Everyone would expect Holt to join in on the fun. Especially his mother, he thought with a pang of guilt.

  “I’ve never been able to figure out what that old man has, but whatever it is, the women seem to like it. I think he’s an older version of Holt Hollister,” Vivian added with a cunning laugh.

  Holt grunted with amusement. “I always did want to be like Sam.”

  She tapped a forefinger against his unshaven chin. “There’s only one Sam and only one you. Thank God.”

  Holt patted the front of her protruding belly. “How’re my little nephews? Isn’t it about time for them to show their faces?”

  “Not yet. And the boys or girls are doing fine. Just because you guessed the gender of baby Evelyn correctly doesn’t mean you’ll get lucky this time.”

  “It’s a pair of boys. They’ll probably look just like Sawyer and grow up to break dozens of hearts.”

  She laughed. “Possibly. But your son, whenever you finally have one, will be the real heartbreaker.”

  Holt noticed Vivian said when, not if, he had a son. Marriage had really messed with her mind, he thought.

  “You’re dreaming, sis.”

  Vivian was about to reply when Reeva practically yelled from across the room. “Holt! What are you doing in my kitchen with those dirty chaps and spurs on? I don’t want horsehair flying all over my food! Get out of here!”

  “Excuse me, sis, I’ve got to go charm the cook.”

  He sauntered over to where Reeva was taking a pan of crescent rolls from the oven. “Reeva, why do you want to be mean to a hardworking man like me? All I want is a little love.”

  “Ha! Just like you don’t get enough of that already.” The cook playfully swatted a hand against his arm, which caused a puff of dust to billow out from his shirtsleeve. “Get out of here and see if you can find some soap and water. We’ll be eating in twenty minutes.”

  “Can’t eat,” he told her. “I have a date tonight.”

  She was stabbing him with a stern look when Maureen walked up behind him.

  “Holt, did I hear you say you have a date tonight?”

  He turned from Reeva’s reprimanding frown to his mother’s unsmiling face.

  “You heard right,” he told her. “I do have a date with Isabelle. Sorry, Mom. I didn’t know about the party.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been having a Gold Rush Days party since before you were born. Every year at this same time. Where the heck have you been living, Holt, besides the horse barn?”

  Normally he would’ve laughed at Maureen’s scolding sarcasm, but not tonight. He worked his butt off and then some for Three Rivers and there were times, like this one, when he felt his mother took him for granted.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Mom, someone has to keep the ranch’s remuda going,” he retorted.

  “Holt! You don’t have to be so snippy,” Vivian chided as she came to stand at his side. “This party is important to her and so is your being here. That’s all she’s trying to say.”

  “I have a life outside of this ranch and this family! And it’s important to me!” He reached to the back of his leg and started unhooking the latches on his chaps. “I’ll go have a drink with the men and then I’ll be leaving.”

  He started out of the kitchen with the three women staring after him. He was almost into the hallway, when his mother’s hand came down on his arm.

  “Holt, just a minute,” she ordered.

  He turned to her and for an instant, as he took in her troubled face, he wanted to grab her into a tight hug. He wanted to rest his face against her shoulder as he had as a boy, feel her comforting hand stroke the top of his head, and hear her say that everything was going to be all right. But those days of his childhood were over and though he hated to admit it, his life, and the whole Hollister family, were changing.

  “Mom, I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound so short.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” she said ruefully. “Nothing I said came out right. That’s been happening too much with me here lately.”

  He shook his head, while feeling guiltier by the minute. His mother had an enormous workload on her shoulders. She didn’t need any of her sons adding to her stress.

  “I wasn’t exactly Mr. Charming either,” he admitted. “Look, Mom, if you want me to hang around for the party that badly, I can call Isabelle and cancel our date for tonight.”

  “No! That isn’t what I want at all. You deserve time for yourself. I only—” She grimaced as she seemed to search for the right words. “You’ve been seeing Isabelle for a while now. I wish that you cared enough to have her over here to Three Rivers.”

  Did he care about Isabelle? Yes, he could admit that he cared for her. A lot. But he couldn’t go so far as to say he loved her. No. That was for men like Blake and Chandler and Joseph. Not him. His mother should know that.

  “I’ll have her over,” he promised. “Sometime. Whenever it’s right.”

  Maureen knew he was hedging. Just like Holt knew it. But thankfully, she wasn’t going to hound him about it tonight.

  “I’ll look forward to that day, son.” She motioned on down the hallway to where his bedroom was located. “You go on and clean up. I’ll tell Jazelle to make you a bourbon and cola. The good stuff that Sam gets,” she added with a wink.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She patted his check, then turned and headed back to the kitchen. Holt trotted on to his bedroom and after texting Isabelle a quick message to let her know he’d be running late, he jumped into the shower.

  Short minutes later, he was buttoning his shirt when a light knock sounded on the door. Figuring it was Jazelle with his drink, he went over and opened it. But instead of Jazelle, it was Vivian.

  “Here’s your bourbon.” She handed him a short tumbler. “Everyone else is going in for dinner. May I come in?”

  “Sure. I’m just about finished here anyway.” He tucked the tails of his shirt into his jeans, then walked over to the dresser and picked up a hairbrush. “But you should go on to dinner. You don’t want to be late to join the others.”

  “It’s okay. Sawyer is going to fill my plate for me. Double everything. To feed two babies. Or so he says. I think he just wants me plump.” She eased onto the edge of his bed and looked at him. “I wanted to talk to you for a minute. We don’t get to do much of that since I moved to the reservation. I miss you.”

  His throat tightened. Even though she was his sister, Vivian had been his best buddy since he was old enough to have a memory. Through good and bad, they’d stuck together. And even now, with her living some ninety miles away, he didn’t have to wonder if she still loved him, or if she’d run to his side if he needed her. She’d be there in a heartbeat.

  “I miss you, too, sissy. But you’re happy with Sawyer and that’s what counts.”

  “Happiness, I want that for you, too, Holt.”

  He cast a droll look at her. “Listen, I apologized to Mom for that outburst in the kitchen. And she apologized to me. We grate on each other’s nerves sometimes. That’s all. See, I’m so happy I can hardly stand myself.”

  She left her s
eat on the mattress and came to stand in front of him. “Right now, I’m finding it very hard to stand you myself.”

  Seeing that she really meant it, he was taken aback. “What is that supposed to mean? You just said you missed me.”

  “I do miss you. In more ways than one. Because of the miles between us, yes. But I miss the old Holt, the adorable Holt, the one who wasn’t trying to hide his feelings.”

  He tossed the hairbrush back onto the dresser top. “Carrying twins is affecting your eyesight, sis. I’m not trying to hide anything.” Except that their father might’ve been an adulterer. And he was getting far more attached to Isabelle than he’d ever planned to be.

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire. You know better than to try to fool me, Holt. You’re getting in deep with this Isabelle, aren’t you?”

  He rubbed a hand against his forehead, then glanced at his watch. “As much as I love spending time with you, sis, I’ve got to run.”

  She threw up her hands. “Okay. Go ahead and run off. You just answered my question anyway. You’ve fallen for Isabelle Townsend.”

  “And what if I have?” He tossed the question at her. “What’s the problem? You and everybody else in this family has always wanted me to find the woman.”

  “I’ll tell you the problem. If you can’t even admit to me that your feelings are serious, then how do you expect things to work with her?”

  Holt grabbed his jacket from the closet and shouldered it on. “I don’t expect it to work forever. Not like you and Sawyer will. I’m not built that way. But I love you for caring about me.” He kissed her forehead. “Now go join everybody for dinner. And I’ll talk to you soon.”

  * * *

  Over on Blue Stallion Ranch, Isabelle glanced at the small clock on the end table. Nearly two hours ago, she’d gotten Holt’s text explaining he’d be a little late. Just how late did he consider a little? At this rate, they’d be eating supper at midnight.

  That first day Isabelle had walked up on Holt in the horse barn, she’d been struck by his rugged good looks, but she’d not missed the fact that he’d looked like he’d been running on empty for too many miles. After that initial meeting, she’d quickly learned that in a day’s time he usually accomplished the work of two men.