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Chapter Fourteen

Beautiful weather blessed the picnic day. In spite of everything that had happened, Valentine was glad she had done it. The event had turned out quite a bit larger than she had anticipated, since the Jeffersons had told everyone they knew to come on out.

Mason, she suspected, did not like the dwindling feel of the ranch and preferred more people than less.

After her conversation with Crockett, she had decided two things. One, she would try to forget that he’d created a beautiful statue of her. And, two, the special celebration should not be a fathers’ event only.

She made two long signs on white butcher paper, painting them to read, “Happy Man’s Day.” She put one up in town over her bakery sign and the other she put up at the ranch to greet incoming guests.

“Man’s Day,” Mimi said with a giggle. “I think Crockett got to you.”

“A little.” Valentine smiled as she uncovered a blueberry pie on the picnic table.

“I warned you that the brothers can be very convincing.”

“He surprised me with his feelings about not being a father,” Valentine admitted. “It made me realize that this event should be about grandfathers, uncles and men, like Mason, who are just good men.”

“Oh.” Mimi looked a little pale suddenly. “I guess so.”

“If it goes well, maybe it will turn into an annual event,” Valentine said. “So I called it Man’s Day, which sounds like a vitamin, but it was the best compromise I could dream up.”

“So, does this mean something important is happening between you and Crockett?”

“If you call distinct unease important, I guess so.”

“Unease?”

Valentine nodded. “It’s just more complicated than I realized it would be. You know, in the beginning I didn’t think of Crockett as anything more than one of Last’s brothers. It was always a bit awkward for me, because I knew none of the
brothers really wanted me here. But my living here seemed to go better than expected.”

“And now?”

“Now that any romantic feelings between me and Crockett are such a mess, I miss him. Maybe I shouldn’t be feeling the loss of our friendship, but I do.”

“Valentine, they’re difficult men. No day is only black or white with them.”

“I know.” Valentine smiled. “I don’t regret any of it. But my life needs to go in a different direction now. Frankly, it probably should have sooner, but I had gotten comfortable.”

Crockett sat down at the picnic table, glancing up at both the women. “I’m very comfortable now. Look at all this food.”

Mimi laughed. “Crockett, you have such a sweet tooth.”

He nodded, cutting a piece of pie for himself. “I like the banner you designed, Valentine.”

His pointed look made her hesitate. “Well, you gave me the idea.”

“It feels very special to be celebrated just for being a man,” he said.

Mimi poked his shoulder as she walked by to lay more napkins on the table. “Not like you guys don’t celebrate that every single day of your lives.”

He laughed. “So, who’s getting comfortable?”

“I am,” Valentine said. “I’ve been thinking about some changes.”

“Change never makes me comfortable,” Crockett said.

“I hate change, too,” Last said, coming to sit beside his brother.

“Last!” Valentine beamed, and Annette ran to jump into her father’s lap. “I didn’t think you’d make it,” Valentine said.

“I wouldn’t miss a day with my girl,” he said, snuggling Annette to him. “Uh-oh, has somebody been in Mommy’s perfume?”

Valentine smiled. “Oh, everything I did this morning, she had to do. She’s turned into quite a little monkey-see. But, Annette
has
been helping me set up, haven’t you?”

Annette nodded, grinning.

“How are you feeling?” Crockett asked Last.

“Damn glad you got me out from underneath that bull,” Last admitted. “If you hadn’t I might not be here to spend Man’s Day with my girl.” He wrinkled up his nose. “Man’s Day sounds like a libido enhancer.”

Valentine laughed. “That’s a plus, right?”

“Okay,” Last said. “So who’s making changes?

I walked into the middle of what you were talking about.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Mimi said. “I hate how you Jeffersons can bounce between three or four conversations.”

Last grinned. “Hawk has been healing me with Indian techniques and medicine. That, or we’ve just been on a major bender for several days. Whatever he’s been doing, it’s given me amazing powers of focus that I’ve never had before.”

Crockett ate his blueberry pie happily. “I don’t care what the subject is, I am going to have a plate of corn and grilled chicken. So, who’s changing?”

“I’m not changing, exactly,” Valentine said slowly. “I’ve decided to move into town.”

 

C
ROCKETT STARED
at Valentine. He lost his appetite for the pie he’d been enjoying. He’d known this would happen. From the beginning, he had realized that romancing Valentine could seriously backfire, and if it did, she would move away from the ranch.

But it wasn’t going to be his problem, he decided. If that’s what she wanted, fine. Putting his napkin on the table, he stared at her.

Last was silent, too, which surprised him.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Crockett demanded of Last.

“What?” Last asked defensively. “Does it matter?”

Well, hell, yeah, it mattered. Mimi had moved to town, and that had done nothing for Mason’s ability to keep an eye on her. Of course, Mason would never admit that Mimi
needed
an eye kept on her, which was the biggest part of the problem. Crockett’s moose-headed brother hadn’t realized that sometimes a woman made poor decisions based upon her heart.

So did men, but most of the time they were more logical. “I think it should matter to you,” Crockett said slowly. “That’s your baby who lives on this Jefferson ranch.”

“I can hardly be upset,” Last said, cutting himself a piece of pie. “Dessert first, and then dinner, right?” He beamed at Valentine. “Whenever I’m around your baking, all I want to do is eat.”

Valentine smiled, sitting down across from him and taking the knife from his hand. She cut his piece of pie, put it on a plate, then handed it to him. “Eat slowly,” she said. “Those are awesome blueberries. I got them at a farmer’s market, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get more of that variety.”

Crockett looked at his plate, confused. She hadn’t cut his piece! She hadn’t given him explicit instructions on how to draw out the gastronomic pleasure!

“Excuse me,” Crockett said. “I believe my powers of focus are sharpening just by sitting next to you. Did you say you can hardly be upset that your child who bears the name of Jefferson is moving off Jefferson land?”

Sighing, Last put down his fork. “Crockett, I’ve been gone for a couple of weeks. Believe it or not, there’s something very liberating about being away from Malfunction Junction.”

“Liberating?”
Crockett thought his ears were going to pop off his head.

Mimi laughed. “Crockett, you’re turning the color of that blueberry sauce. Do you need sun-screen?”

None of this conversation suited him. He really felt that his brother should step up to a
different
plate and take care of his responsibilities. If Valentine was
his
woman, she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

This was her home. Hers and Annette’s.

“Where are you thinking about moving?” Mimi asked.

“I like your setup. You’re close to town, in a small abode.”

“It’s nice,” Mimi admitted. “Not so much housecleaning.”

“I’ll clean your house,” Crockett said. “I did offer to be your house husband.”

Last turned to him. “What the hell is that?”

Crockett glared at his brother. “I offered to babysit Annette.”

“And I thank you,” Valentine said earnestly. “But in town, near my bakery, Annette won’t need a babysitter. She’ll be with me, and when she wants to play, there are other children in town. Other mothers my age. Especially when the Lonely Hearts girls move to town next weekend.”

Crockett stared, his heart beginning to race. She had thought this plan through. This wasn’t just something she was saying to needle him—er, Last.

“You know,” Last said, “though you seem to think I’m dropping the ball by not trying to convince her to stay, you must have dropped a really big ball if she’s not dying to live three feet away from you. I mean, usually women are throwing themselves at us. This one, like Mimi, has decided to move away. Best you look to your own method.”

Well, that was a fine howdy-doody, Crockett thought. Last’s baby and the baby’s mother were moving away, and he, Crockett, was the fall guy.

They all looked at him expectantly.

He’d never considered that Valentine might miss the company of other women. Living in town would be a lot better for Annette, actually—but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“I could plan to be around to help you move your stuff,” Last said, and Crockett blew a fuse.

“Jeffersons stay on Jefferson land,” he said.

Last laughed. “Bull. The only Jefferson brothers left here are Mason and you. Well, Calhoun, but he doesn’t count, because he’s got his own family down at his house, and heaven knows you don’t go down there often because you got your pride stirred up over artistic differences. Bandera, who knows when he’s going to stop floating around in the sky or where he’ll settle. That leaves Valentine living on a
ghost
ranch.”

An arrow of remorse buried itself deeply in Crockett’s chest. Did no one care that the old ways were disappearing? Everything was going the wrong way, including Valentine. She should have wanted to say yes to his proposal and she should want to live on this fine ranch.

Anger overrode his better judgment. “I get it,” he said, standing, “this is all my fault. You and I smooched a little, spent a little time together—which I knew was a bad idea—and now you’re going to leave me here to stew in my own juices.”

“Bro, I really don’t think this is about you,” Last said, his tone warning.

“Just go on then,” Crockett said to Valentine. “Just go. Get off the ranch, if you want to so badly.”

Last stood, stepping away from the bench. “Crockett, shut your mouth.”

“I shouldn’t have done it. I asked you to marry me, and you didn’t want to, and now you’re running away from me. Fine.” Crockett stood, too, and the two brothers glared at each other eye to eye.

“Don’t talk to Valentine that way,” Last said.

“That seems funny coming from you, Last, since you spent the first several months she was here wearing a Mohawk and an earring and avoiding your fatherly duties.”

Valentine stood between them. She pushed them apart, and then turned to Crockett. “There are many reasons a woman wants change. In this case, it’s absolutely imperative that a lot of things in my life be different.”

Crockett stared down at her, wondering what he’d done to make her decide to pull up roots. Why would she leave him?

“Was it so very bad?” he asked, his heart paining him.

“It was so very good,” she said. “I wanted to be loved. I still do. But that’s not what you’re offering. And now there’s going to be more of me to love. I really have to keep my priorities straight.”

“I don’t care how plump you get,” Crockett
said. “Anybody who works in a bakery is going to put on a pound or two. But Valentine, your booty’s always been the best part of you.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. Crockett, I’m having a baby.”

Chapter Fifteen

Crockett stared at Valentine, dimly aware that Mimi and Last were walking away. There was an emotional boulder sitting on Crockett’s chest and something buzzing loudly in his brain. “Baby?”

She nodded. “It’s very early, but yes.”

“Mine. We’re having a baby.”

She nodded again. “We didn’t use any protection that night. Honestly, I assumed I was at the right place in my cycle.”

He didn’t know what to say. Half of him wanted to jump up and down and shout. But the other half was cautious. In spite of this good news, she was moving farther away—from him.

“I’m confused,” he said finally. “Why are you moving into town?”

“I already told you.”

“But I have offered to take care of you.”

Valentine took a deep breath. “Crockett, unfortunately, having a baby doesn’t change the fundamental problems between us. We’re friends, and if you don’t love me, then we can’t be anything more.”

“I think we’re past friendship if we’re having a baby.” He felt very cross about the friendship notion.

“Last and I are friends. And perhaps if you’d understood that in the beginning—”

“I am allowed a bit of familial jealousy,” Crockett said. “It didn’t really have anything to do with you.”

“It had everything to do with me. I understood that Last was a bit possessive of his child—”

“But now I’m having a child, and it’s my turn to be possessive, and I don’t want you moving to town!” He told himself to calm down. “I realize I am probably not saying this properly, but my child should live on this ranch where his heritage is.”

“I’ve picked out the cutest little townhouse next to Mimi’s,” she said.

“Mimi is such a bad influence! She always has been,” Crockett grumbled. Sitting down, he drummed his fingers on the table. “I am having a baby,” he said. “Me, Crockett Jefferson. I am going to be a father.” He perked up. “Hey, I will always be able to celebrate Father’s Day!”

Valentine sat across from him. “Now you want it to be Father’s Day instead of Man’s Day?”

“None of us liked thinking about Father’s Day before,” he said. “Because of Maverick.”

Valentine’s lips parted, in a way he greatly appreciated. “I never thought about that,” she said. “Of course Father’s Day wouldn’t have the happiest of memories for you guys.”

“Well, we have happy memories. But we can’t get away from the fact that we never knew what happened to our father. We appreciated the fact that you were living in the present, Valentine. Now I will always smile on Father’s Day. I cannot wait to hold my own bundle of joy.”

He felt tears pop into his eyes as he thought about it. Had Maverick felt this way? He remembered his father’s firm hands guiding him along a path of steadfast love and companionship. “I’m going to be a helluva dad,” he said. “I’ve got to brush up on my Latin.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You sure you don’t want to get married?”

“I’m not sure about anything. I can’t believe I’m pregnant again.”

“Are you happy?” Despite the snarl in their relationship, Crockett really wanted her to be happy about the baby.

“Even though it wasn’t in my plan, I am. And
I hope it’s a little brother for Annette.” She bit her lip, then smiled at him. “I hope it’s a boy who is just like you.”

“You’ll give me compliments, but you won’t take my ring.” He sighed.

“You’re a good man, Crockett, and you take your responsibilities very seriously, whether it’s saving Last or saving me. I just don’t want to be a responsibility.”

“I don’t have to break anything to save
you,
” he said, feeling a bit annoyed.

“I have a present for you,” Valentine said.

“Twins?”

She laughed. “No.”

“Oh. Because I don’t think you can give me anything better than a baby.”

In front of him, she placed a cowboy cookie with his name on it. It wore chaps, spurs and a huge hat. “He’s got his heart,” Crockett observed.

“A big one, too. This is my new design,” she said proudly. “I created super-cookie-glue. I’m very proud of it. And it’s tasty.”

“This is a very studly cookie. You’re going to sell a ton of these, especially for bachelor parties and holidays. I can’t eat it, though, because I’m going to keep it.”

“I made a design for every brother, and the kids.
At Christmas, the family will have matching stockings and personalized cookies.”

He wanted to cry. “Valentine, you are part of this ranch. You need to stay here.”

“Cowboy, you do not handle change well.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I’ll fit into a townhouse too well.”

“Fit?” she asked, her brow raised.

“Fit,” he said with a nod. “With this baby, our relationship has moved into a brand-new phase. Neither friendship nor commitment.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, laughing.

“It means whither goes my baby, so go I. Or in simpler terms, I’m going to stick on you like this heart on this cookie. If I have to use your super-cookie-glue to keep you stuck to me, then I will steal your secret recipe. That’s the new plan,” he said. “Change is just a matter of being willing to change again. And I think I’m going to like you introducing change into my life.”

 

S
O THIS WAS A
J
EFFERSON
in hot pursuit, Valentine thought, as she carried a plastic container of muffins into her bakery. Crockett held the door open for her, not allowing her to carry anything that weighed more than eight ounces. “Thank you,” she said, “although may I just say that I’m only a
few weeks pregnant, and I’m not exactly high risk, either.”

“And you shouldn’t become risky,” he said cheerfully. “Now, let’s go see this cute little townhouse you picked out.”

She sighed. “Shouldn’t you be resting your leg?”

“Not bothering me a bit.”

“All right. But first I need to take down the Man’s Day sign on the bakery.”

“Every man in town appreciated you celebrating them,” Crockett said, “but in the future, you’re only going to celebrate me.”

She frowned at him. “Excuse me, have I met this pigheaded side of you before?”

He laughed. “Some ladies would call it romantic.”

She pulled out a ladder. He sprang to take it from her. “No more of this for you.” Frowning, he said, “I wonder if being in a bakery all day around hot ovens is good for your pregnancy.”

“Crockett!” Valentine glared at him. “You are swiftly becoming a pain.”

“It will get better as you get accustomed to a man helping you.”

“I don’t know. You’re not going to get up on that ladder with a hurt leg, are you? I put the sign up, I can take it down.”

“I have to make certain you’re safe. You have a bun in the oven, you know,” he said cheerfully.

“That was a very sorry, corny attempt at humor.” She put her hands on her hips. “Crockett, I’m not going to like you being stuck to me like glue. I don’t think this Jefferson hot pursuit is my cup of tea. Mimi made it sound like it would be so wonderful, but I think it may be overdone.”

He stared at her, his jaw slack. She could tell he was truly puzzled.

“Excuse me,” a voice said, as the bakery door opened behind her. A tiny wizened face peeked in.

“Come in,” Valentine said. “Welcome.”

“My friends and I were wondering about your sign on the bakery. I’m Helen Granger from Tulips, Texas. This is my friend, Pansy Trifle. Our other friend, Holt—our town hairdresser—is across the street at the Union Junction salon getting some tips from the girls over there.”

Valentine smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“We saw your sign and we wondered what you thought about your Man’s Day,” Pansy said. “Did you enjoy it?”

Valentine looked at Crockett. “Did you?”

“I didn’t think I would,” Crockett said, “but actually, I did.”

Valentine lifted her chin at him. He liked her spirit, he had to admit.

“We think we would like to incorporate a Ladies Only Day in Tulips,” Helen said.

“Maybe monthly,” Pansy said.

“Man’s Day is once a year, which is all I can take,” Crockett said. “But a Ladies Only day is something I’m sure my brothers would love to take part in.”

“Really?” Valentine said to Crockett. “And what would they like about Ladies Only?”

“Well, a person can’t be sexist,” Crockett said. “And it would only make men more curious if there is a town day for ladies. My brothers and I would be there in a snap.”

Helen and Pansy clapped their hands.

Valentine glowered at him. “Really?”

“Really,” Crockett assured her. “I mean, what do you think?”

“I think,” Valentine said, “that Mason isn’t the Ladies Only Day type.”

“You have a point,” he said.

“And I would have hoped that
you
weren’t.”

Ah. She had him there. But the funny thing was, he was enjoying seeing her get her feathers ruffled a little. She wanted to complain about his jealousy and his possessiveness, but it didn’t hurt
her at all to wear the shoes he’d been walking in. “I think Ladies Only Day is a fabulous idea,” he told Helen and Pansy. “If you decide to institute it, Valentine will supply the baked goods.”

Valentine glared at him.

“I will happily deliver the baked goods to Tulips for you. We’re going to love taking part. Aren’t we, Valentine?” he asked with a grin.

 

V
ALENTINE HAD BEEN
giving him the silent treatment ever since he’d given her a slight tweaking about Ladies Only Day. She also hadn’t been pleased when he’d climbed up the ladder and torn down her Man’s Day sign. She didn’t need to be on a ladder, but she had insisted he was the one who shouldn’t be climbing anything.

He had to admit, it had been risky. But his leg or his baby—hands down, he’d rather risk his leg. It was healing nicely, anyway.

About twenty times an hour, he said to himself,
I’m going to be a father
. It was this wonderful repetition that he would never tire of hearing.

Until he’d met Valentine, he wasn’t aware of his own longings for a child.

What she didn’t know was that he’d developed an even stronger, more intense longing—for her. She thought she was getting away from him, but
in fact, she was going to run right into his arms. This girl was tricky, he knew, with her pear-shaped bottom and her scared heart. She’d turned him down because she’d thought he was pharmacologically-impaired, according to Mimi. And his brother had skewed her trust in relationships.

But her rejection didn’t bother him so much now that he knew the truth. He was in love with her. And she needed him, really needed him, and he was going to convince her that he needed her, too.

Today, he was helping her move her things into the cute little townhouse. It wasn’t big—he felt as if he might bump his head every time he moved—but he had a plan for that, too.

Her bed, though, was just right. It was the bed they’d made the baby in. Amongst all this change it had stayed the same. It had the same bedspread, the same pillows.

“And it’s going to have me in it,” he said with a grin.

“What?” Valentine said.

“Never mind,” he said. “I really like your new place.”

“You do?” Valentine looked at him suspiciously. “I thought you were opposed to me moving.”

“But now I’ve changed,” he said. “See how easy that was?”

Valentine walked over to him. “Crockett, I do
not trust you. You are in a very slippery mood, and I warn you, Mimi’s told me all about you Jefferson men when you decide to have your way with a woman.”

He gave her his most wounded expression. “I am the most innocent of parties.”

“And that makes me even more worried. But,” Valentine said with a smile, “look how pretty this all is. I love it here!” She turned to him. “Thank you for being helpful and understanding.”

There was a knock on her front door, and Valentine smiled at Crockett. “My first visitor.”

She opened the door. The locksmith stood outside with keys in his hand. She reached to take the keys, but he handed them to Crockett instead.

“Here are your keys,” he said. “All new locks.”

“You put new locks on my house?” she asked.

Crockett held up his keys proudly. “These are my keys, to my new townhouse. Next door. Come see my new place.”

Disbelieving, she followed him, watching him open the door. “Perfect,” he said to the locksmith. “Thank you.”

The door swung open, and Valentine gasped. It was an artist’s studio, with easels and clay and everything an artist needed to feel at home. She even thought she spied a potter’s wheel and some glass-blowing materials.

“I needed a place where I could create in peace,” he said. “The attic wasn’t really working out with my leg. And Mason had figured out that I was eyeing the barn. So this is my new lair, complete with a lock to keep my brothers out and my creativity in.”

Valentine couldn’t figure out if she was happy or worried that he intended to be so close to her. It was as if she hadn’t moved off the ranch after all!

Part of her was very excited that he intended to be so much a part of her life. She’d never had a man pay her so much attention.

“And this,” Crockett said, “is my crowning glory.”

He swung open a door, revealing a room full of baby things. A colorful crib, a ton of toys, a carton of diapers, even a measuring chart on one wall.

Valentine slowly turned to face Crockett.

“When you’re working, the baby can be here,” he explained.

“It sort of feels like I never moved away from you,” she said, “and my goal was to rely on myself.”

“No, your goal was to not let another Jefferson hurt you. I proposed badly, and now I have some work to do.” He took a deep breath. “Right now it’s two small houses, but I hope they will eventually grow into one big house. And when you’re ready, I intend to knock out the wall that separates us.”

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