Wild, Crazy Hearts

by Melissa Foster

  “I haven’t, but now I have to think about my baby and what he or she will grow up dealing with.”

  “You probably should have thought about all that before you lied.” Amber didn’t have a judgmental bone in her body. She spoke so matter-of-factly, it drove her point home even stronger. “You know how this town gossips. This is bound to spark even more.”

  “Thinking ahead isn’t my strong point,” Brindle said. “What do you think I should do? I don’t want our baby paying for my mistakes.”

  “Your baby will be just fine,” Sable said. “We’ll all have its back.”

  “You’re right, Sable,” their mother said. “But I’m glad to hear you’re thinking beyond yourself, Brindle.”

  “You guys, I have to get off the phone. I have a meeting,” Pepper announced. “Brin, you and Trace have lasted about twelve years, which is longer than the average marriage. You’re both stubborn, so if you want this to get better, it will. I love you. Call if you need me.”

  “Wait. There’s one more thing I have to say,” Brindle said quickly. “Trace didn’t sleep with Heather, and I know you think or have heard otherwise, but I’ve only slept with two men in my life.”

  Their father covered his face. “Can you please keep this part of your confession between the females in the family?”

  “I, on the other hand, have had many men,” Axsel said with a laugh, bringing on a round of jokes.

  When Brindle told them about accidentally leaving all their gifts behind, it added fuel to their lively banter. Brindle put her hand on her belly, listening to her rowdy siblings, and the upended pieces of her life started falling back into place. She rubbed her belly. Hear that, baby? That’s the sound of love, and you’re going to be surrounded by it.

  TRACE CLOSED UP the barn and gazed out over the pasture, trying for the millionth time that day to wrap his head around the fact that he was going to be a father. He’d always wanted more with Brindle, but because she was so anti-commitment, he’d never let himself picture the pieces of their lives together in a way that made any sense. Today he’d begun envisioning a real future with her. A traditional future as husband and wife, as parents. He knew they had a long way to go before he should think like that, but he’d buried those desires so deep, they were popping up like plants reaching for the sun.

  “Hey, you okay?” Shane asked, pulling Trace from his thoughts.

  Trace wiped his hands on his jeans and said, “Yeah. I was just heading up to the house.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Shane said, and they headed across the lawn.

  They were having dinner with their parents, and Trace was going to break the news about the baby to his family. He’d been trying to figure out how to tell them all day, and finally he’d decided he just needed to put it out there. His father might give him hell for being irresponsible, but he could handle that. He knew his parents would love the baby no matter what. His mother had been bugging them all about giving her grandchildren. A bigger worry was whether he and Brindle would be able to find stable ground. He sure as hell hoped so, but the only thing he was certain of was that he wanted Brindle and he wanted their baby, but this time it had to be on his terms, and that meant a real commitment.

  “Feel like going out later?” Shane asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m going to lie low tonight.” There was too much going on in his head to go out partying. He also had to be up early to get the work done on the ranch before he headed over to the field to help Sin coach.

  Jeb met them on the way up the front walk and said, “Trix and JJ are already here. JJ said he’s got to blow out early, though. Are you coming out with us tonight, Trace?”

  “No.”

  Trace pulled open the door, then followed his brothers into the rambling two-story farmhouse. The house had been passed down through several generations. It boasted an enormous eat-in kitchen, a family room with horrendous orange-and-cream wallpaper his mother refused to let them tear out—Why spend money fixing something that isn’t broken?—a wood-paneled den, three bathrooms, and six bedrooms. Memories rose to greet him as he passed the living room where he and his brothers had spent many nights wrestling, the dining room where they celebrated everything from birthdays to sports victories, and the staircase that led to the bedrooms he and his brothers had hidden Playboy magazines in and snuck out of at night. Trixie had snuck out a few times, but much to his sister’s chagrin, one of them had always dragged her ass back home.

  He followed the delicious aroma of his mother’s cooking toward the kitchen.

  JJ stood in the doorway with a strange expression on his face, watching Trace come down the hall. Trace lifted his chin, silently asking what was up. JJ motioned for him to walk past and see for himself.

  “Congratulations, bro,” JJ said just as Trace saw Brindle sitting at the table with his parents and Trixie leaning against the counter, grinning.

  Brindle looked nervously up at him. “Hi. I just came by to—”

  “Congratulations, Daddy,” Trixie blurted out.

  “Daddy?” Jeb and Shane said in unison.

  “You told them? I was going to tell them over dinner.” Trace tried to read his parents faces as he circled the table to where Brindle sat. His mother wore a pleasant expression, which gave him hope. But his father, Waylon Jericho, was a serious man. His deep-set dark eyes and tight jaw gave away nothing. Trace felt his brothers watching him, but he’d deal with them after he made sure Brindle was okay.

  “I’m sorry.” Brindle pushed to her feet. “I texted you to say I was coming over to talk to your mom.”

  “Don’t be upset, honey,” his mother said. “I saw Brindle in town yesterday, and she just came by to apologize for not being honest with us from the get-go. She thought you already told us.”

  “It’s okay. I never saw the text.” He took Brindle’s hand and turned his back to his family as he asked, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, a small smile lifting her lips.

  “I would have—”

  “I know.” She put her hand on his chest and said, “And I didn’t mean to beat you to it.”

  He faced his parents and said, “I should have come by this morning, but I had to fix a fence on the lower pasture, and then I just…I needed to figure out how to tell you. I wasn’t trying to avoid it.”

  “Nobody thinks you were, son,” his father said evenly.

  “Brindle, why don’t you stay for dinner?” his mother asked.

  “Thank you, but I have a million things to do tonight.” Brindle stood to leave and said, “I appreciate you spending the last hour with me, and I’m sorry for spilling the beans before Trace could.”

  Trixie pushed from the counter and hugged her. “I’m thrilled! I’m going to be an aunt, and I sure hope you have a girl, because—look—we need a little evening out of things around here.” She pointed at Brindle and said, “I know you have a gaggle of sisters, but I’d better be a bridesmaid.”

  Brindle’s face blanched. “Oh, we’re not talking about marriage yet.” She glanced nervously at Trace and said, “We have a lot to figure out before we get that far.”

  They did, but one day…

  “Well, you two love each other, and I’m sure you’ll figure things out.” His mother stood up and embraced Brindle. “This is a blessing. We’re so happy for both of you.”

  Brindle turned to his father and said, “I just want to say again, I never meant to lie about any of this, and I appreciate your candor with me.”

  Candor? Trace put a protective arm around Brindle. His father could be harsh, and he hoped to hell he hadn’t said anything too strong or hurtful to her. “I’ll walk you out.”

  When they descended the front porch, he said, “I wish you’d waited for me.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. Yesterday your mom was devastated when I saw her. When I got your text this morning and you said you were going to talk to them, I figured you would have done it by the time I came over. But when I got here and sa
w that they had no idea why I was here, I started to tell them that I was sorry for the rumors and for putting you in that position. I wasn’t going to come clean until we could do it together. But then your mom looked so sad, I had to tell her. And after I did, I realized I shouldn’t have been so impatient. I should have waited to hear back from you no matter how long it took.”

  “It’s okay. We have a lot to learn about how to communicate with each other. I hate that I wasn’t there with you. What did my father say to you?”

  She lowered her eyes and said, “Nothing that I didn’t deserve.”

  “Damn it. This is why I wish you had waited. I should have been there to protect you.”

  “I don’t need protecting,” she said firmly.

  He gritted his teeth. On many levels she was right, but he knew she was even more sensitive than she let herself believe. If his father had said anything harsh, she would overthink it until she felt like she might explode. That usually led to her confronting the offender, which could go any number of ways. Most of which weren’t great when her opponent was his father.

  “What’d he say, Brindle?”

  “He said I was lucky you were such a good man, and he’s right. The more I think about how I handled this, the more I realize I should have let you know right away. I shouldn’t have let you think, even for a second, that this was someone else’s baby, and I’ll never be able to erase that from our relationship. But I’m going to try to do the right thing from here on out.” She lowered her eyes again and said, “I mean, starting now, since I messed up by talking to your family first.”

  He pulled her into his arms and said, “You couldn’t stand to see my mom sad. Your big heart gets you into trouble and my big mouth gets me into trouble. We’re quite the pair.”

  “I think it was different parts of us that got us into this particular trouble,” she said with a playful expression. “Now kiss me. I’ve got a hot first date tomorrow night with a pushy cowboy, and I need time to prepare.”

  After several steamy kisses, he stood on the porch watching her drive away, knowing in his gut they’d get through this. Jeb and Shane joined him on the porch.

  “She’s got balls,” Shane said.

  Trace glared at him.

  “I meant it as a compliment,” Shane said. “Not many girls are strong enough to face Dad like that.”

  “So it’s definitely yours?” Jeb said.

  “It’s mine, and I should have known it from the start.”

  Jeb crossed his arms and said, “I guess we all should have.”

  “Why’d she lie, man?” Shane asked. “That’s the only part I don’t get.”

  Who knows was on the tip of Trace’s tongue, and it’s how he probably would have responded before last night. But comments like that fueled speculation about their relationship, and he was done making that mistake. “That was my fault,” he admitted. “I accused her of sleeping with someone else in Paris.”

  The door opened, and their father stepped outside. “Jeb, Shane, go help your mother. I’d like a minute alone with Trace.”

  Trace squared his shoulders as his brothers headed inside, each giving him a silent, Good luck. His father was six foot four and stocky, with more salt than pepper in his short, thick hair. Even with his limp from the pain in his joints and his gnarled hands, he had a commanding presence. It wouldn’t matter if he was five feet tall. Trace had more respect for his father than he had for any other man on earth.

  “You okay, son?” his father asked.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “Then you’re better than I was the first time I found out your mother was pregnant. I was scared shitless.”

  Trace nodded. “I’m right there with you, Dad. But I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t man enough to handle things.”

  “Son, we raised four good, strong men, and one good, strong woman who’s going to do to a man just what Brindle has spent years doing to you. That’s what strong women do; they butt heads with the best of us.”

  “Brindle’s pretty good at that,” Trace said.

  “Yes, we know. And I’m sure you’re just as good at driving her crazy. But part of being a good man is owning up to the things that scare you. Everybody gets scared. It’s how you handle that fear that separates the men from the boys.”

  Trace crossed his arms, needing the barrier as he told his father the truth about Brindle’s lie. “I didn’t handle it very well at the barn bash, Dad. Brindle lied because I accused her of something, and I did that because I was so damn scared I’d lost her, I couldn’t see straight.”

  “That right?” His father rubbed his jaw. “She didn’t let on that you handled it poorly. She said she got scared and didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

  “She was protecting me,” Trace said more to himself than to his father.

  “That’s the mark of a good woman. Learning how to handle fear with a modicum of grace is no easy task, and conquering it is even harder.” He put a hand on Trace’s shoulder and said, “When your pretty little filly sat down at that table tonight, she was one scared gal. But she looked us in the eyes and told us why she went on that godforsaken trip, and she apologized for any embarrassment she might have caused our family. I’d call that stepping up to the plate.”

  Trace filled with pride. In all the years he’d been with Brindle, his father hadn’t said more than a handful of words about their relationship, and he’d always wondered what he really thought about it.

  “You have always stepped up and handled things in ways that have made us proud. I have no doubt you’re going to do the same thing with fatherhood.”

  Chapter Nine

  BRINDLE HAD BEEN secretly admiring Trace from afar for so many years, it felt like coming home to be sitting on the hill at the edge of the athletic field by the community center, bundled up in her coat, with a to-go cup of decaffeinated coffee and a doughnut, watching him coach the youth football team. Her covert Trace-watching sessions weren’t just limited to his sports practices. Before they’d ever kissed, she’d begun sneaking out to watch him and his brothers ride horses in the wee hours of the morning. She’d first caught wind of their predawn activities at a Friday-night jam session. Every few weeks the Jerichos opened their barn to the community. People of all ages played instruments together while friends and families danced. It was during one of those nights when Brindle had overheard her mother and Nancy Jericho talking about the differences between raising girls and boys. Drama versus testosterone.

  Watching Trace train horses before the rest of Oak Falls even woke up? That she needed to see with her own two eyes. She’d woken Morgyn to go with her, and Sable had heard them sneaking out. Sable had given them hell, but even back then Brindle wouldn’t let anyone stand in the way of what she wanted. Sable had gone with them, and she’d been joining in the fun ever since. Brindle would never forget the adrenaline that had rushed through her that very first time, as she lay on the hill overlooking the Jerichos’ riding ring, or the tingling that had started in her chest when she’d seen Trace ride out of the barn on the back of a big black horse. She’d been mesmerized by the skill and strength he’d exuded. She’d held her breath when the horse bucked, laughing while Trace held his hat in one hand, the reins in the other, earning cheers from his brothers. Even back then he was as cocky and as confident as he was handsome. Morgyn had fallen asleep lying beside her, but Sable and Brindle had watched every second of the show. To Sable it had been two and a half hours of sneaky fun, but to Brindle it was the night she’d fallen in love with Trace Jericho.

  Now she sipped her coffee, watching the kids huddle around Trace, his arms around the two closest boys. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but she imagined he was giving them a pep talk. He put his hand in the middle of the group, and all the boys thrust their hands forward. They hollered something as their arms flew up, and then the boys ran toward the field.

  Trace shouted something, and one of the boys circled back to him. Tra
ce put his hands out, wrists touching, hands flexed back, and brought his hands close to his chest, as if he was teaching the boy to catch the football. The boy mimicked the motion, and Trace patted him on the head. He clapped a few times as the boy ran off to take his position. It was easy to imagine him teaching their child how to play ball, standing on the sidelines giving him pointers, and cheering him on. And she knew he’d find a way to be just as supportive if they had a girl who liked to dance, ride horses, or even play the guitar, like he did. He looked so happy, it made her wish he had more of this in his life.

  “He looks good out there, doesn’t he?”

  Startled, Brindle looked up at Sin. He wore a baseball cap and sunglasses and carried an equipment bag over his shoulder.

  “I’ve always thought so,” she said. “He belongs on the field just as much as he belongs on a horse.”

  Sin crouched beside her and gazed out at the field. “He’s good with the kids, patient and informative. He’s helped me out five or six times and he never loses his cool. The kids respond well to him.”

  “He’s helped that many times? He made it sound like it was just once or twice.”

  Sin said, “Yeah, well, you know Trace. He downplays the things he does for others. I really wish he’d take me up on my offer.” Sin pushed to his feet. “He’s just what we need.”

  “What offer?”

  “To coach a team next year. I told him the position is his if he wants it.”

  “Really?” She looked at Trace talking with one of the boys and wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it to her. “I thought it was just an off-the-cuff comment the other night.”

  “When it comes to coaching kids, I don’t make comments I don’t mean. It’s too important to get the right person in the position. I know he’s got a lot of responsibility at the ranch, but the offer stands, and if you can nudge him in that direction, I’d sure appreciate it.”

  I’m good at nudging.

  Pushing. She was good at pushing.

  But wasn’t the elation on Trace’s face worth a little push?