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Authors: Cathy McDavid

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Understandable, Violet supposed. Cole had cleaned up for the appointment, donning what appeared to be a fairly new Western-cut shirt and his best jeans. He looked...handsome. She could admit that. Much the same as he'd looked that night in the Poco Dinero Bar when he'd sauntered over and joined her at the table she shared with her friends, the local grain supply rep and his wife.

Heaving a sigh, Vi plunked down in the chair beside Cole and propped her purse in front of her. If she was hoping to use it as a shield, she'd need something a lot bigger. A thick panel, maybe. Or simply distance.

She could quite literally
feel
him. Violet wasn't a romantic and, thanks to her parents' three-decades-long miserable marriage, she didn't subscribe to the theory of soul mates. But there was something about Cole that caused her to be acutely aware whenever he was in the same room. The sensation intensified when they were close and, she was certain of it, accounted for her weakness that night in the bar.

He was a competent dancer. Quite good, actually. She hadn't expected him to smoothly glide her across the crowded dance floor. Neither had she expected her insides to melt when he held her tight during the slow numbers.

She'd been prepared for nothing more intimate than a good-night hug in the parking lot at the end of the evening, but Cole had had other ideas and pulled her into his arms for a kiss.

An
amazing
kiss. Surprised at first, she'd quickly surrendered. Apparently, she'd invited him home, because the next thing she knew, they were both in the backseat of her friends' SUV, the lights of town passing by in a blur.

It was while she'd driven him to his truck the next morning that they'd talked and mutually agreed to forget what had happened.

Wait a minute. That wasn't quite accurate. She'd done all the talking. Cole had gone along with her without adding much to the conversation.

“Everything okay?” he suddenly asked.

“Just waiting my turn.”

“How much was the co-pay? I'll reimburse you.”

At least he had the decency to speak in a low voice. “Can we talk about this later?”

“I'm paying,” he answered, his tone implying there'd be no further discussion.

She stood up, strode over to the periodical rack and grabbed a magazine on pregnancy. Years ago, she'd subscribed to this same one and had saved the back issues, storing them in a credenza drawer. After the third miscarriage, she'd burned every copy in her backyard fire pit.

Returning to her chair, she began flipping the magazine pages, barely noticing the ads and articles.

What had she been thinking, agreeing to let Cole accompany her? She was tired; that must be it. And sick. She'd been in no physical condition to put up a fight. Though today she actually felt pretty good and had managed not to lose her breakfast or her lunch.

She sneaked a glance at him, certain he had nothing whatsoever to do with her improved health.

“Would you like me to come with you?” he asked.

“Into the exam room?” She drew back in alarm. “Absolutely not.”

He tensed.

All right, she'd overreacted. But if the doctor delivered bad news, and that was a distinct possibility, Violet didn't want Cole there to witness her emotional breakdown.

What if the doctor delivered good news? She was two months along, after all. Well, then she'd relay the information to Cole and they'd continue as they'd previously decided, not telling anyone until she reached her second trimester.

Even then, she'd insist on informing only close family and friends. Violet refused to take chances. Most people, though kind and well-intentioned, didn't have a clue about what she was going through. Their sympathy when she'd miscarried had worsened her grief rather than relieved it.

“Perhaps another time,” she offered by way of apology.


Next
time,” he countered.

His response thoroughly rattled her.

A quick check confirmed the one remaining patient was occupied with her phone and not paying them any attention.

“I thought you said you haven't figured out what to do yet. But you're planning to come with me to every appointment?”

He bent his head close to hers and spoke softly, yet deliberately. “I'm concerned about you and your health.”

“Pardon me, but I'm confused.”

“Not to steal your words, but can we talk about this later?”

“Fine.” She went back to reading the magazine.

They waited another fifteen minutes when a nurse finally appeared in the doorway leading to the exam rooms. “Ms. Hathaway? This way, please.”

Violet stood and would have gone if not for a gentle tug on her hand. It was Cole.

“Good luck.”

Her insides melted, just as they had on the dance floor. For a moment, she wished he was concerned about more than her health. Enough to reconsider his plans of returning to the rodeo circuit.

He continued to occupy her thoughts as she walked down the corridor, throughout her weigh-in and blood pressure reading and when the nurse left her alone to change into the paper gown.

What kind of father would Cole make? He wasn't always caustic and abrupt. When he wanted, he had the ability to be sweet and tender and so very charming. She'd been the recipient of those qualities before and had basked in them.

If only their circumstances were different. What then? Dating? Moving in together? Getting married? Violet wasn't sure she wanted any of that. They really didn't know each other well.

Once under way, the exam progressed quickly. Violet found herself watching and listening intently to Dr. Medina for even the tiniest indication that something might be wrong. There was none. The other woman remained chipper throughout the exam, telling Violet that all was well and exactly as it should be.

“Ready for a peek at your baby?”

Her words startled Violet, and she almost refused “Yes. I am.”

“Because your pregnancy is high risk, we'll be doing a transvaginal ultrasound today.” When the probe was in place, Dr. Medina pointed to the monitor screen at Violet's right. “There's your baby.”

She adjusted the volume, and Violet heard a rapid beat matching the small pulsating heart visible in the middle of the fetus. All at once, she started to cry, unable to stop herself. She hadn't been far enough along during her other pregnancies to hear or see the heartbeat.

Dr. Medina smiled sweetly and handed Violet a tissue, her curly silver hair framing her face like a wreath. “Try not to worry too much. It won't do you or the baby any good.”

Violet wiped at her tears. “It's hard not to worry.”

“I'd like to see you in two weeks.”

Immediately, Violet feared the worst. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. Just a precaution.” Dr. Medina returned the probe to its holder. Next, she pressed a series of buttons on the ultrasound machine and printed a picture, which she gave to Violet. “Next month, when the baby's bigger, I'll send you to the imaging center for a more comprehensive ultrasound. They'll make you a CD.”

Violet clutched the picture to her chest. She liked the sound of “next month.”

Dr. Medina helped her to a sitting position, her hand remaining on Violet's shoulder to comfort her. “Call me if you have even the slightest cramping.”

“All right.” Violet had already programed the doctor's number into her phone's speed dial.

“Remind me again—you work at a cattle ranch, right?”

“Yes.”

“Outdoors?”

“Almost always.”

“And very physical.”

“Comes with the territory.” There'd been times when the demands of her job had been an escape for Violet. A cure for her various woes. Miscarriages. Failed marriage. Parents always arguing and trying to coerce her into choosing sides.

“I'm recommending you take it easy,” Dr. Medina said. “Rest every day, and by rest I mean lying down, for at least two to three hours. Absolutely no lifting and no strenuous activities. That includes horseback riding.”

Violet instinctively pressed a hand to her belly. She'd do nothing that might harm this baby. “I'll talk to my boss. Bosses. I have some vacation time coming. Maybe I can work something out.”

“Sitting at a desk is fine, and I encourage you to walk. Exercise is beneficial as long as you don't go overboard.”

They talked awhile longer about diet and prenatal vitamins and various dos and don'ts, most of which Violet already knew. Dr. Medina didn't mention the baby's father, though she was aware of Violet's divorce.

Violet bit back the urge to inquire whether having a different father would improve her chances. They'd never figured out the cause of her miscarriages. Perhaps it had been genetic.

“See you in two weeks.” Dr. Medina closed the door behind her when she left.

Violet took a moment to say a quiet prayer of thanks before climbing off the table and getting dressed. Her legs wobbled and her knees shook, as much from relief as nerves. In the waiting room, Cole glanced up when she entered, then stood nearby while she scheduled her next appointment with the receptionist.

“Do you need a reminder card?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The woman completed the card and handed it to Violet, her eyes on Cole and filled with questions. She'd worked there for years and probably remembered Denny.

Violet tensed. It wasn't anyone's business who came with her to her appointments.

Cole didn't bring up her exam until they were on the road. “How did it go?”

She proceeded to tell him the basic details, but to her horror, started crying again when she got to the part about the ultrasound.

Cole reached across the console and took her hand. “I bet that was pretty neat to see.”

Damn. Why did he have to be so nice?

“I have a picture. I'll make you a copy.” She felt another sob coming on and countered it with a change in subject. “I need to set up a meeting with you and your brothers. As soon as possible. It's about my job.”

Chapter Three

Cole pressed on the clutch and manually shifted the tractor into second gear. It was a John Deere, circa 1990, and groaned like a grumpy old man before the wheels finally gained traction. Hooked behind the tractor was a flatbed trailer loaded with hay. Cole turned the steering wheel hard to the right and chugged in the direction of the horse stables.

He was in charge of today's afternoon feeding. The job normally fell to one of the hands, but they were working with a skeleton crew today, in part because of Vi's absence. She'd taken off early to rest—something only Cole knew about—and to prepare for their five-thirty meeting.

She'd requested to speak with all three brothers. Again, Cole alone knew her reasons. She planned to tell them about her pregnancy and then request a modified work week that included fewer hours and light duty.

The meeting was scheduled for the only time Josh and Gabe were available—right before dinner. Nowadays, the demands on both men were many, and they were frequently gone from the ranch.

Josh had full custody of his two children while their mother, fresh from a sixty-day stint in drug rehab, proved her ability to remain sober. He and his girlfriend, Cara, were in the market for a new house and went out looking every chance they got. Cole expected the two of them to announce their engagement any minute, which was fine by him. He liked Cara. She made Josh happy and loved his children.

Gabe, too, was working his tail off. He divided his days between Dos Estrellas and their nearest neighbors, the Small Change Ranch. There, he helped his fiancée's Parkinson's-stricken father manage their large cattle operation. Gabe would be moving to the Small Change soon and assuming even more responsibilities. His marriage to Reese was scheduled to take place this spring, and they were already steeped in preparations.

Cole did his best to help out, filling in for both brothers when and where he could. Though he was a poor substitute for Raquel, he even babysat his niece and nephew on occasion.

Speak of the devil!

Rounding the corner, Cole caught sight of his three-year-old nephew not thirty feet in front of him, and hit the brakes hard. Dirt rose in a cloud as the tires skidded to a stop, and the heavily loaded flatbed trailer lurched, threatening to jackknife.

“What the...” Cole pushed his hat back and wiped his damp brow.

The boy walked alone, leading a small horse named Hurry Up. Like Hotshot, the mustang was a rehabilitated rescue from Cara's sanctuary. Tagging after them was a five-month-old Australian shepherd pup, a recent addition to the Dempsey household.

Cole cut the tractor engine, climbed down and jogged over to his nephew. “Hey, cowboy. What are you doing?”

Nathan stopped to gaze up at him. “Hi, Uncle Cole.” He'd recently celebrated a birthday and since then had been talking up a storm, his vocabulary expanding daily. “I walking Hurry Up.”

The horse and pup dutifully waited, the horse sniffing the dry ground, the pup chewing on a bent stick. Cole and Josh had once owned a horse and pup like these two when they were young. In Cole's opinion, there were no better playmates.

Hold on a minute. When did he start having opinions about kids' playmates? Maybe since he'd found out he might be a parent soon.

“Where's your dad?” he asked.

“Dunno.”

Cole glanced around, not spotting his brother anywhere. Had Nathan wandered off? It wouldn't be the first time. The boy was mischievous with a capital
M
, a quality he definitely inherited from his father's side of the family. Both Josh and Cole had been notorious troublemakers in their day.

What if he had a son? Would the boy be a Dempsey through and through or more like Vi? Come to think of it, she'd probably been a bit of a troublemaker, too.

Perhaps the better question was what kind of father would Cole be? His few times babysitting hardly qualified him.

He could no doubt learn a lot from his older brother. Josh hadn't started out as the best of dads. Like Cole, he'd been a professional cowboy and away more than he was home. But after gaining sole custody of his two kids, Josh had stepped up, filling the role of single parent as if born to it.

Cole patted Nathan on the head. The boy wore a tattered cowboy hat not unlike his own, though Cole's fit better. “I think we should find your dad.”

Nathan insisted on leading Hurry Up. They got about fifty feet before Josh came running out of the horse stable, his year-old daughter, Kimberly, bouncing in his arms, his expression panicked. Spotting them, he drew up short.

Cole could see his brother struggling not to curse. He also saw the intense relief coursing through him. “Nathan! Criminy, son. How many times have I told you not to walk off like that?”

Nathan didn't appear the least bit remorseful. “Hi, Daddy. I walking Hurry Up.”

The pup, thinking it was playtime, loped awkwardly over to Josh on gangly legs, the stick clenched in its mouth.

Cole waited for his brother to catch up. As they neared, his pretty little niece reached out her arms and babbled unintelligibly.

“You mind?” Josh handed over his daughter before Cole had a chance to reply.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Cole balanced the little girl against his chest as he'd seen Josh do.

She babbled some more and patted his cheeks. It was cute. Maybe he wouldn't mind having a daughter.

Josh went down on one knee in front of his son. “Nathan, you can't leave without telling me. Do you understand?”

Nathan stared at his father, then slowly nodded. Cole suspected the boy didn't understand at all and was simply placating his dad.

Cole kept his niece busy and let father and son talk for several minutes. Eventually, Josh stood, emitting a long, low groan of frustration. “Kids,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Before today, Cole might have answered, “I wouldn't know.” Now, he kept his mouth shut.

After lifting Nathan onto the horse's back, Josh took Kimberly from Cole and plunked her in front of her brother. The two often went for rides, though lately Nathan had been less inclined to share, wanting Hurry Up for himself.

Josh gathered the lead rope in his hands. “What do you think the meeting's about today?”

“Guess we'll find out.”

“Gabe figures she's going to ask for some time off, what with her parents divorcing.”

“He could be right.”

Josh studied Cole intently. “You know.”

“Why do you say that?” Now would probably be a good time to return to feeding.

“You're hedging. You don't hedge.”

“I promised Vi I wouldn't say anything. Violet,” he quickly amended. Using a nickname implied intimacy.

His brother wasn't fooled. “You two have gotten friendly lately.”

“We get along.”

“Get along or
get along
?”

“What are you implying?”

“Leroy said he saw you and Violet at the Poco Dinero a couple months back.”

“We danced some and shared a ride home.”

“Must have been a long ride. You didn't come back till morning. I didn't think much of it till Leroy said something.”

Cole thought he might have to find the talkative ranch hand and tell him to mind his own business, then decided bringing up that night would only make things worse.

“Want to go, Daddy,” Nathan whined impatiently. He didn't like waiting.

“In a minute, son. I'm talking to Uncle Cole.”

“Don't stay on my account,” Cole said, seeing an opportunity to escape further scrutiny.

“Come on. Walk with me.”

“I'm in the middle of feeding.”

“The horses can wait ten minutes.”

Cole would have manufactured another excuse, but he suddenly didn't want to. He and his brother had always been close, sharing everything, including careers and confidences. Cole could count on Josh to keep Vi's secret. Certainly for the next hour.

Besides, the fact was he could use some advice as well as a chance to unload. He'd grown tired of having only himself for counsel.

He and Josh set out on a course that circled the horse stables, Josh leading Hurry Up and his two young riders. The kids weren't interested in the grown-ups, allowing Cole and Josh to talk relatively freely.

Cole cut right to the chase. “Vi's pregnant.”

“You're kidding!” Josh gaped at him. “Is it yours?”

“She told me Monday.” Cole gave a brief account of what had happened then and yesterday at the doctor's office.

When he was done, Josh asked, “And you were together only the one night?”

“She didn't think we should date. Said it wasn't professional. That, and I think she considers me a flight risk, ready to leave at the drop of a hat.”

“What are you going to do?”

“We haven't decided. She wants to wait.”

“That must be why she called the meeting. To tell us she's pregnant.”

“She's worried she might miscarry—it's happened before. Three times, back when she was married.” Cole was growing fed up with circling the stables. His brother, however, appeared not to notice. Did people automatically start putting their children first when they became a parent? Would Cole? “Her doctor gave her strict orders to rest every day and not work so hard. Do you suppose the ranch has a policy regarding medical leave?”

“No idea. Gabe will have to answer that. If not, we'll figure something out. She's a good employee. I can't imagine not trying to help her.”

Cole agreed. Vi had told him she'd been just eighteen when she came to Dos Estrellas, the summer after high school. The Dempseys had taken her in, giving her a home as well as a job. Raquel loved her like family, as had Cole's late father.

Why hadn't he shown Cole and Josh that kind of love? Was the estrangement really all their mother's fault? She may have perpetuated it, but their dad hadn't fought it, either.

“Why do you think Dad hated us?” Cole hadn't intended to ask the question, it just slipped out.

“He didn't,” Josh answered, in a somewhat tired voice. “The problem was him and Mom and their inability to get along.”

Cole suspected there'd been much more going on, but let the subject drop. Josh had reconciled his differences with their father a while ago and didn't hang on like Cole. Perhaps because coming to Dos Estrellas had resulted in a safe, stable home for his children, a woman he loved and a job he'd come to believe was his calling.

Unfortunately, Cole was of a completely different mind. He liked cattle ranching well enough and someday might make it his living, but he still preferred busting broncs, training horses and chasing the sun to the next town.

“Are you remotely ready to be a dad?” Josh asked. “You haven't ever been the settling down kind.”

“I want to be ready.”

“You're going to have someone depending on you. Someone who can't do the simplest of things for him or herself.”

Cole glanced over his shoulder at his niece and nephew and tried to see himself as their parent. It wasn't easy. He'd been something of a drifter for the past twelve years.

“What if you made Mustang Valley your home base instead of Grandpa and Grandma's?

Josh's suggestion was a reasonable one. Except for one problem.

“I'm not sure Vi wants me here. She made it clear she'd rather go it alone than have a part-time dad in the picture.”

“She has a point. I tried that, and it didn't work. I wound up with an addict for a wife and two children who suffered from neglect. If you're not willing to fully commit, you might as well leave Violet to raise the baby by herself.”

Cole heard what his brother said, and also what he didn't say: that if he failed to commit, he'd be just like their father, a man who'd abandoned his children.

Cole didn't think he could stand another similarity between them. There were already too many.

He kept watch for Vi's arrival, staying busy in the horse stables after finishing with the afternoon feeding. At last her pickup truck pulled into the driveway leading to the ranch.

He ignored the rush of relief coursing through him, along with the thrill of anticipation, and hurried to catch up. She was on her way to the house for their meeting.
Her
meeting.

“Hey, not so fast.”

Glancing back, she stopped and waited. Cole took it as a good sign that she didn't race ahead.

“How are you doing?” He fell into step beside her.

“All right, I guess.”

Her face told a different story. It had a pinched, exhausted look made worse by the dark circles beneath her eyes.

Cole repressed a sudden urge to wrap her in his arms. Or maybe not so sudden. He'd felt the same when she'd told him about her pregnancy. If anything, this protectiveness was becoming a habit.

“Did you get a chance to rest?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Too keyed up?”

“I'm not nervous.”

He had his doubts. This couldn't be easy for her; it was a lot for anyone to handle.

“Did you at least put your feet up for a while?”

“I did.” She smiled, though it was difficult to interpret. She might have been pleased Cole cared, or she might be placating him.

He noticed she held a spiral notebook in the crook of her arm. Had she organized her thoughts? He could picture her sitting in her living room recliner, feet up and furiously scribbling away.

“It's going to be fine,” he assured her. “There's nothing Gabe won't do for you.”

“What about you and Josh? Your votes count just as much as Gabe's.”

“You know how I feel.”

“Do I?”

“You're a great employee. You deserve time off.”

“I see.” She didn't mask the disappointment in her voice.

“What do you want me to say, Vi? That I care about you and what happens? I do. I hope you have this baby, and I hope it's born healthy. I'll do my best to be a good father and a good provider. Whatever you need from me. But you said yourself, you want to wait.”

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