One to Take (Stuart & Mariska): Sexy Cowboy (One to Hold Book 8) (4 page)

“I’d feel better if you had a little more practice with trained horses before you start training one yourself.”

I have to concede he’s right. With a nod, I walk back to Cheyenne’s belly and put my hand on the saddle horn while I use the other to try and situate my foot in the stirrup.

“Hold the reins,” Stuart advises, and I pause, making sure I have the thin strips of leather in my hand before I awkwardly haul myself up onto her back. I’m on my belly at first, but I manage to fling my leg around and wiggle myself to a sitting position.

“Good work.” I’m pretty sure he’s fighting a laugh.

With a wink and a flick of the reins, he heads out of the barn. Cheyenne is right behind him as if she doesn’t even need me to tell her what to do. She probably doesn’t.

Stuart gives us a quick glance before calling, “Let’s ride to the cabin!”

The wind has picked up, and I don’t try to make him hear me. I give him a vigorous nod and urge the horse onward with my legs as we take off, moving through a bumpy trot to a smooth canter.

W
ind sweeps
down across the prairie grasses in a line like an invisible ship over sage-green waters. Mariska is right behind me, her long hair flying in the breeze, and every time I glance back, she gives me a huge smile.

We haven’t been to the cabin since Christmas, and I’ve wanted to check on the place. When Bill bought the ranch, I took my sleeping bag and set up shop there the first year we were here, and that settled it. It’s primitive, remote, and barely big enough for one person, and it’s all mine.

My younger brother Patrick is more interested in hanging around the house, talking to our uncle, and getting to know the other ranchers. Our baby sister Amy couldn’t be bothered with such crude accommodations. The jetted tubs, plush robes, and soft mattresses of the main house are more her style.

Last year, I came back here alone, hoping to find peace. I’d been sent home from the desert, discharged after a spinal injury left me unable to complete even the most basic tasks without pain.

I’d done my best to stay in the game with prescription pain killers, but the narcotics brought their own brand of handicap to the mix: addiction. I was the lowest I’ve ever been when Mariska showed up with a potent blend of love and massage therapy and a desire to help me. I finally got my head out of my ass and let her.

Now, charging through the tall grasses, I look back on those golden days, our first memories together. Ranger’s hooves pound the earth in a satisfying rhythm, and after what feels like too short a time, the small grey shack appears at the horizon. I sit straighter, barely moving the reins toward my stomach as my horse eases to a halt.

Mariska rocks forward as she tries to hold onto Cheyenne through the bouncy stop. I do my best to not laugh. Everything she does is adorably amateur, but she’s so earnest. I don’t want her discouraged—or worse, pissed.

“When it’s time to stop, lean back a bit and tighten your stomach muscles. That way you’re in control, and you don’t fly off.”

Her silky hair swirls around her head, and she’s breathing fast. Her eagerness to learn reminds me of our early days when she would follow me around the barn asking questions and watching me work. She was cute then, but I was still resisting her charms. Now she’s beautiful and determined to master this skill.

“Lean back and tighten my stomach,” she repeats as if it’s a mantra.

I watch as she practices the motion. Cheyenne’s chin moves down, and the large horse takes a step back.

“Not too hard,” I say gently. “She knows what to do.”

“I’m sorry, old girl!” She leans forward and pats the horse’s neck as if it’s a large dog.

Her action is instinctual, and I can’t stop a swell of pride in my chest as I watch how fast she learns and bonds with the animals. She doesn’t listen to them as much as I do, but she still picks up their cues. Maybe this life, living here in this hard country, wouldn’t be as unthinkable to her as I imagine? I still haven’t decided.

“Are you taking us to the cabin?” she says.

“Is that okay?”

She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear and looks over her shoulder toward the ranch house. “I really want to go, I just… I have to meet your mom for lunch.”

Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions about her wanting to be here as much as me. “Yeah, we can head back. I’ll check it out while you’re in town.”

Guiding Ranger’s head around, I don’t miss the worried look on her face. “I want to go to the cabin with you, I just…” Her voice goes quiet. “I have to do this with your mom.”

My curiosity is piqued at her odd preoccupation with my mother. “What exactly are you two doing?”

Her chin drops, making me even more suspicious. “I… she said she was going to take me to get a canvass and paint supplies. Remember? I want to paint?”

For a moment, I don’t say anything. I know my mom, and I know my fiancée. Whatever they’re up to, I’m sure it’s something extravagant I won’t like. Still, if they’re planning a surprise of some sort, I won’t spoil their fun.

“Ready to run back?”

“Yes.” Sunset eyes hold mine a moment. They’re so full of warmth and… something else, something new. I can’t figure it out, but something is different.

Moving the reins to the side, I carefully guide Ranger so he’s beside Cheyenne. “Come here.”

“I-I don’t know how.” She shrugs, lifting the reins at her waist.

Cheyenne stands patient, unaffected by our behavior. Our legs brush as Ranger gets closer, and I stop him, looping the leather straps around the saddle horn and reaching for Mariska’s face. Instead of moving her to me, I lean forward to capture her soft lips.

A noise, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper escapes her throat, and I envision taking her to the cabin, building a fire under the moonlight, and wrapping her in an Indian blanket under a sky filled with stars. It’s a sexy memory I’m ready to relive.

“I want us back here to stay. Soon.”

Still holding the reins, she nods. “I don’t know how long we’ll be in town, but I want that, too. I want us to be here when I…” Her lip goes between her teeth as if she’s catching herself.

My eyes narrow, and she can see I’m onto her. Pulling away quickly, she holds out the reins and turns Cheyenne’s body away from Ranger’s.

“Beat you to the house!” With a flick of her legs, she’s off, stretching out and riding that mare across the plain in a way I haven’t seen since the Chinook.

Sylvia doesn’t drive a truck like Bill and Stuart. She has a steel-grey Cadillac, and we’re on the lonely two-lane road into Great Falls when she starts to get excited.

“I have to hand it to you. You are so much better at keeping a secret than I ever was.” She’s smiling, and her enthusiasm makes my own heart beat a little faster.

“You have no idea how many times I almost told him today.”

A quick glance, and her eyes are back on the road. “As far along as you are, I’m surprised he hasn’t noticed things for himself.”

A flush of embarrassment pinks my cheeks. “I think he has… It’s good we made this appointment today.”

She reaches for my hand and gives me a squeeze. I admire the artistic, chunky ring on her well-manicured hand. Everything about Sylvia is polished, from her smooth, sandy-grey hair to her crisp white blouse and dark jeans. She’s slim and fashionable, and I can’t imagine anything she can’t do. It explains so much the strength of her children.

“Winona said you’re seeing one of the best doctors in the city.”

“Do you think she’ll tell Bill where we went?”

“She barely even speaks half the time.” Sylvia waves a hand before returning it to the steering wheel. “You don’t have to worry about her.”

Looking out the window, I think of Sylvia’s question about us being here, living in this remote wilderness. I think of working with the horses and riding them this morning, I felt like I was in heaven. Thinking back, another little surge of pride hits me over being able to saddle and bridle Cheyenne all by myself.

When we got back to the barn, I took all her gear off, brushed her down, and even scraped her hooves, although that part still has me a bit skittish. We’d been scraping Freckles’ hooves when she reared back and nearly kicked me.

Before I left for the house to meet Sylvia and leave for this doctor’s appointment, I’d taken one last peek at my new little friend. She seemed to remember me, because when I stood at the door to her stall, she turned her pretty grey head in my direction and took a few steps forward.

I didn’t have an apple, so I couldn’t entice her. Still, I was so gratified and encouraged. Stuart wants to go to the cabin, and I want to be with him in our special, sacred place when I give him this amazing news. After that, it’s back to the ranch and his promise to teach me how to train her.

If I can be a real horsewoman, I don’t see why living in Montana couldn’t be such a fulfilling experience. I’ll have my man, my family, my art, and a special skill I’ve only ever dreamed of possessing with these magical creatures I love.

“Your blood sugar levels are very good, and your weight seems to be right on track for twelve weeks.” Dr. Brown leans back, looking over my chart. She has greying black hair and tanned skin. “It’s time to do an ultrasound and some routine tests.”

My heart stutters, and I sit up fast. “Do we have to do the ultrasound today?”

We’ve listened to the baby’s heartbeat, measured its growth, and checked me from head to toe. I want Stuart with me for the first ultrasound.

Dr. Brown glances at Sylvia and back to me before returning to the chart. “It’s all routine for this stage of your pregnancy, nothing to be alarmed about.”

“I understand. It’s just… I’d like to have the father with me for the first ultrasound.” A quiet sniff above my shoulder draws my attention like a magnet. “Sylvia! Are you crying?”

“Oh, stop,” she waves at me, eyes shining. “I’m not made of stone. You’re carrying my grandchild!”

Reaching out for her hand, my eyes heat as we share this moment.

“You haven’t told the father yet?” My new doctor’s forehead lines.

“I wanted to wait until we were sure. I mean, until everything was certain.” I feel idiotic voicing my fears.

Dr. Brown’s face relaxes into a smile, and she squeezes my arm. “Sweetie, this pregnancy is as solid as it can be.”

Another loud sniff from Sylvia causes me to laugh as tears flood my eyes. “Thank you!” I whisper before clearing my throat. “Would it be possible to come back later this week with him and do it?”

“Of course!” the doctor says, and the two women stand to leave the room while I get dressed. “If you like, you can have your blood drawn today. That way it’s done when you come back.”

I agree as they exit for me to change. When I’m alone in the room, I have to take a moment to let the truth of what she said wash over me. It’s official. I’m definitely going to have a baby. A baby!
Our baby…

Covering my face with my hands, I let the tears fall. We’re a family. Moving my hands to my stomach, I glide my palms over my skin before hugging my midsection. I can’t wait to tell Stuart.

A
n enlarged photograph
of wild mustangs running through brown grasses hangs on the wall behind Bill’s desk. I study it, looking for animals I recognize.

“Feeling nostalgic?” My uncle’s voice always carries an easy wisdom, no pressure, always aware.

“This was the herd Freckles came from.” I spot her white face and black mane toward the center of the group of seven.

Bill walks to the photograph and studies it a moment. He’s as tall as I am and just as lean. Today he’s dressed in cowboy boots and jeans, same as me, and a faded plaid shirt.

“She wasn’t native to that herd. I only kept her to prevent her from being injured or stolen.”

“She’s the only one you’ve ever kept.”

“Yeah, and it was a foolish decision.” He walks over to sit in a distressed brown-leather chair. “She’s always been wild, trying to escape.”

“But she always comes back.”

We’re quiet several moments, and I think about the different horses that have come through the place. Typically when Bill helps with a roundup, the wild horses only stay a short time and are sold for cheap. My uncle is more interested in ensuring they’re free to roam across his property, across the plains.

He interrupts my thoughts, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Have you thought any more about taking over the place?”

My words from last night have been swirling in my head, low and disturbing, ever since I said them. “I’m sorry I spoke out of turn like that. Evan talking about cutting up the place and selling it got to me more than I expected.”

“You get used to it with a ranch this size.” His dark brown eyes study me. “Still, if it’s something you truly want, I’d be open to discussing it. You’re good with the animals, and I know you love it here.”

My boots make a dull thump on the yellow-pine floors. Rounding the desk, I rub the back of my neck, thinking. Five thousand acres is a hell of a spread, even with most of it being empty grassland. Still, the very thought of those miles of open wilderness filters a unique calm through my chest.

“I’m not sure how Mariska feels about it,” I hedge. “To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about it.” It’s a lie. I know exactly how I feel.

“Well, we’ve got time.” With a grunt, he pushes off his legs to stand. “The worst thing you can do is pressure the future. What’s going to happen will come.”

I glance to my right and give him a tight smile.
Old hippie
.

We leave the confines of his office and enter the enormous, open living room. The kitchen and dining area are on the opposite end of the space, and Winona’s standing at the bar quietly kneading what looks like dough.

“You never told me why you moved here from Scottsdale.” My brother and I grew up visiting Bill on a similar spread in the desert southwest. “You had a pretty sweet setup before.”

“I fell in love with the raw beauty of this place. One visit and I was hooked.” Stopping in front of the empty, black fireplace, he nods as if agreeing to an internal sentiment. “It’s spiritual.”

I know what he means. “Have you ever wanted to leave?”

“After your dad died, I considered it. You boys were too big to come and stay in the summers, and it looked like you were overseas for good…” His voice trails off, and I get the sense he has another reason he’s keeping to himself.

“What changed your mind?”

Glancing up, he gives me a little smile. “Who says it changed? I’m just waiting for the right offer.”

My mother’s words ring in my ears,
He’s getting too old to manage the place
, and again my insides clench at the thought of someone else being here. Last year is heavy on my mind. When things got so bad, when I had nowhere else to go, I came here and got back on my feet.

“I’m glad you were here last year,” I confess.

He reaches out and grips my shoulder. “Me too.”

Bill has battled his own demons in the past. When the time came for me to face down mine, he was the one person I knew I could trust. Of course, my brother Patrick and my partner Derek dropped everything to come here and see me through that dark time as well. Patrick just happened to bring Mariska… He also noticed something I’d never seen before. The tenderness my dad’s younger brother always shows to our mom.

“Mom seems to enjoy visiting the place, too.” It’s my turn to give him a sly grin. “She’s been coming out here quite a bit since December.”

His hand is still on my shoulder, and he gives it a gentle push. “It’s not her kind of life. It never has been.”

My dad came to Great Falls once, shortly after Bill bought the place. He was supposed to stay a week, but he left after two days. It was too wild, too uncontrollable. I remember a time when I wanted to be just like my dad, then I learned things I never wanted to know about my father. As a Marine, he died with honor, but he and I weren’t as much alike as I used to believe. He made my mother sad for a very long time.

I know Bill won’t confide in me about his feelings for Sylvia, his brother’s widow. I think I understand his reasoning, but still I wish he would. Instead he leaves me at the hearth with more questions than answers, as usual.

Even with our trip to the craft store, Sylvia and I make it back to the ranch with plenty of time before supper. Stuart is in the round pen working with Jessie, and for a moment, I spy on the two of them. I watch as he quietly opens his hand to the side and she bows her head, walking slowly toward him. Her nose is at his chest, and he gives her a treat I can’t see.

Still, when he reaches up between her ears, she shakes her head and pulls away. Resting my cheek against the weathered wood of the barn door, I sketch out this scene in my mind. My gorgeous cowboy and the beautiful little horse he gave me. As much as he tells me not to get too attached, I know she’s mine.

For a moment, I watch as she jogs around the pen, until he looks up and sees me watching them. His hazel eyes darken, and it’s like shimmering heat against my skin. It’s time, and I can barely breathe with wanting to tell him.

“Starting without me?” I walk over to the metal fencing and rest my chin on the top bar.

Stuart comes to where I’m standing, sliding his warm hands up the sides of my forearms and holding my elbows before leaning down to give me a gentle kiss. Every touch fans anticipation higher in my chest.

“I wanted to get an idea of her personality.”

Reaching for his waist, I grip the sides of the striped-white cowboy shirt he’s wearing. “I’m sorry for cutting our ride short this afternoon. Would you come with me now? I’d like us to go somewhere alone.”

The breeze blows a strand of hair across my face, and he reaches out to smooth it away. “What did you have in mind?”

“Winona is packing dinner for us. I’d hoped we could drive to the cabin, where we can talk.”

“Talk?” His dark brow lines.

Stepping back, I grasp his hands and squeeze them. “Just… trust me.”

In less than twenty minutes we’re in the truck, driving out toward the little place where our love story began. I look out the window at the miles of green grasses dotted here and there with darker clumps of trees or bushes. The sun is making its way toward the horizon, but the sky is still brilliant blue with lazy clouds drifting along, assuming imaginary shapes and dissolving just as fast.

Our conversation is light. I tell him almost everything about going into town with his mother, leaving out the most important part of all. It takes all my willpower not to blurt it out.

Balanced on my lap is an enormous woven basket, complete with a blanket, checkered napkins, and a bottle of sparkling wine. I made sure to slip a bottle of lemonade and a few waters in my overnight bag as well, since I’ll only be having a sip of champagne.

The travel time is shorter than on horseback, and we’re in the small cabin, tossing our overnight bags on the bed in no time. Stuart moves around the one-room space turning on the water and checking the pilot light on the heater. He’s all business, but I’m internally buzzing.

“Come on,” I say once he’s done, reaching for his hand and grabbing the basket. A golden glow has settled over the grasses with the setting sun, and I lead him to the space reserved for bonfires on chilly nights. It’s the place where a year ago we sat wrapped in an Indian blanket telling each other everything about ourselves. A shooting star passed over our heads, and I wished he would be the father of my children. I wished he would fall in love with me as deeply as I’d already fallen in love with him.

“I confess the anticipation is getting to me,” he says, watching me set the basket down and pull out the blanket.

The constant wind fights with me to spread it until he steps forward to help. Before we left the house, I changed into a lacy white dress with spaghetti straps that tie at the tops of my shoulders and fastened the sides of my hair back in a barrette to keep it out of my face. Stuart is still in the striped shirt and jeans he had on working with Jessie.

Blanket spread, I motion for him to sit, which he does, and without hesitation, I climb onto his lap facing him, bunching my skirt so I’m in a straddle.

His hands go to my waist, and those beautiful eyes, more green than brown, fix on mine with the usual intensity. My bottom lip is between my teeth, and I suddenly feel as if an orange is stuck in my throat. Reaching for his neck, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

“I’ve been waiting to tell you this…” My voice is soft, breathy, and his hands slide up and down my sides.

Looking into his eyes with the golden glow all around us, I can’t help thinking how amazing this moment is, magical. Flickering through my thoughts is the notion that what I’m about to say will change us forever.

“Okay,” he says, as if urging me on.

Touching my lip with my tongue, I slide my thumbs along the line of his strong jaw. “I…” a little laugh. I don’t know why my eyes are heating. “I think I’m going to cry.”

“Mariska,” his voice is a low groan. “You’re killing me.”

I laugh, and a tear drops.
Just say it, silly
. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I take a slow inhale, and say the words.

“I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment the only noises are the wind in the grass and the far-off cry of a bird. Stuart’s hands freeze on my waist, and his eyes are the only things communicating with me. I’m looking deep into them as he blinks a few times, processing the meaning of what I’ve just said. Equally fast I see them fill with wonder.

He takes my face in both hands, and he touches me gently, his thumbs tracing the top of my cheekbones. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” I say, starting to laugh. My own hands are still resting on his neck, waiting for what happens next.

“Mariska…” He pulls me closer to kiss me, pushing my lips apart and finding my tongue, threading his fingers into the sides of my hair as our mouths chase each other, wonderful heat growing between us. When he leans back again, amazement is still on his face. “How? I mean, strike that. It’s just… you’ve been on the pill since—”

“I know! I don’t know what happened.” I shrug, gripping the tops of his toned shoulders. “I noticed my body acting weird, then I figured out I’d skipped a period. By the time I finally went to the doctor I was eight weeks along.”

“Eight weeks…” His eyes drop to my stomach followed closely by his hands. Holding my sides, he runs his palm along my still-flat stomach. “How far along are you now?”

“The doctor in town said I’m at twelve weeks. It’s time to do an ultrasound, but I couldn’t do it without you there.”

“The doctor in town?” His eyes are back on mine, and I nod, laughing again. “It’s why you were so distracted by Sylvia. You told my mother?”

“She found out. She caught me doing my daily bump check.”

“Bump check,” he repeats, looking down again and again sliding his hand across my stomach. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

Reaching for his cheeks again, I lift his gaze, needing to see his eyes when I say it. “Are you happy?”

Something flickers in his eyes, and in one fast move he catches my face, pulling it to his for a long, lingering kiss. He parts my lips, his tongue tracing the side of mine before moving to my cheek then he straightens to kiss my temple, my brow, before moving down again to find my eyes.

“I can’t believe it,” he says, his voice as quiet as mine.

My eyes are hot again, and I blink fast. “Is that a yes?”

“
Yes
isn’t right…
Yes
is too small a word.” He touches my cheek again. “You’re having my baby.”

“Stuart!” I can’t take these non-answers. My heart is beating painfully hard, and I need to hear him say it. “Is it okay? I know it’s not how we planned it, and I know you like to be in charge of everything—”

“Stop.” It’s a gentle order, and my lips press together. He kisses me once more, only briefly before catching my eyes again. “I’ve wanted this since our first night.”

Relief floods through me, and with a happy laugh, I dive forward, pushing my arms around his neck, holding his chest against mine so tight.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He’s holding me just as tight, and I feel his lips against my shoulder. “For what?”

“For making me a family.”

My eyes press closed so the only thing I know is the warmth of our bodies touching, the beating of our hearts together, our breath swirling in and out in a rhythm all our own. The beautiful dream, my wish, has come true.