Glynna Kaye - Pine Country Cowboy

Where was he coming from with that comment? But he sure nailed it on the head. The shallowness of commitment on the part of her fiancé had been nothing short of deplorable. “I guess so.”

“Is your brother harboring any other pretty siblings?” Brett quirked a smile. “I may have to talk with him about holding out on friends.”

He’s a flirt. The women warned you. Don’t take his flattery to heart. Nevertheless, her breath came more quickly at the approving sparkle in his eyes.

“There’s one other...” She couldn’t help but toy, noticing with gratification how a brow lifted in surprised interest. “But our brother, Ed, might take exception to being termed pretty.”

Brett’s amused gaze pinned her just as her cell phone vibrated silently in the purse resting against her hip. Please don’t let it be Gene again. Since Sunday evening her ex-fiancé had been calling. Emailing. Texting. His messages were brief, only that he needed to talk to her. With each attempt to make contact, her hopes—and outrage—rose in unison.

Brett cocked his head to the side. “Is something wrong, ma’am?”

She wished he’d stop calling her that. It made her sound as old as dirt. “My phone’s vibrating.” She patted the purse at her side. “Incoming call.”

“Don’t mind me. Go ahead. Take it.”

With a grimace of apology, she pulled out the phone. Not Gene, thank goodness, but her older brother, Davy’s dad.

It was already nice getting more frequent calls from Joe. While they’d kept in contact sporadically through the years, they had a long way to go to rebond. Maybe they never fully would. But despite him not being around much the past few days, he was making an effort to reconnect, which was more than Dad seemed to be doing.

“Hey, Joe, what’s up?”

“Meg’s being air-vacced to the hospital at Show Low.”

Her throat tightened at his flat tone, recognizing he’d shifted into paramedic mode. The levelheaded corpsman pattern from his navy days divorced emotion from the situation at hand, conveying that the air transport was more serious than Meg merely going into a much-anticipated labor.

“Is she—”

“I’m on my way there now. She says you have Davy.”

Abby quickly confirmed the boy was still deep in conversation with Trey. “I do. He’s right here.”

“Can you keep him for a while? Stay with him at the house if we don’t get back by tonight?”

“Maybe...” Dad could take care of Davy, couldn’t he? Or Olivia, Joe and Abby’s cousin who’d married Meg’s brother? But no, Joe needed immediate assurance that things were under control on the home front. “Sure. No problem.”

“Davy has a key.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, sis. You’re an answered prayer. I’ll call you when I know more.”

Heart still pounding, she gripped the phone as her gaze met Brett’s troubled one. “Wait— Joe? Will Meg— Is the baby— Are they going to be okay?”

Chapter Two

Gut-punched at the implications of the one-sided conversation, Brett watched as Abby slipped the phone back into her purse with trembling fingers.

“The baby’s on its way?”

“Maybe.” Abby’s dark eyes, wide with alarm, met his. “Meg’s not due for two more weeks, but she’s being air-vacced to Show Low. Joe will call again after he gets there and has more details.”

“But he thinks she and the baby are going to be okay?” He’d heard her ask that question.

She bit gently down on her lower lip. “He doesn’t know. He says to keep them in our prayers.”

Brett gave a confirming nod, a prayer already pumping through his being along with the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Babies. Moms. He knew what was at stake. “You can count on me.”

Something in Abby’s eyes flickered. Surprise? Doubt?

“Thank you.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The baby... It’s a girl. Jorelle. Jo. After her daddy, except without the e.”

“I imagine everybody will be calling her Jori before she’s even out of diapers.”

“Jori. I like that.” An ever-so-faint smile touched the woman’s lips, then she turned to watch as Davy and Trey headed in their direction, her nephew proudly leading Trey’s horse, Taco. “I’d better round up Davy and get him back home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you can drag him out of here with a tractor. Looks like he and ol’ Taco are buds now.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” She took a strengthening breath and he intuitively knew where her thoughts had headed—to what she’d tell Davy about his stepmother’s situation.

He lightly touched her arm and, as she turned uncertainly toward him, he clearly read concern for her family in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. You’ll be given the words to explain his mom’s absence. To reassure him. He’ll be fine.”

She blinked rapidly, hugging her arms to herself in an almost protective gesture.

“But he hardly knows me. What if—” She compressed her lips together, her dark eyes challenging him for answers to questions she dared not utter. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if his mommy... What if she was all alone with Davy should she get such a call?

Stepping closer, he reached for her hand, holding it securely when she tried to draw it back. Warm, soft, fine-boned. “God will tell you what to say, what to do. But don’t dwell on the negative. I don’t know if there’s any truth to it, but I’ve heard babies sometimes come early at higher elevations. Everything’s going to be fine. You wait and see.”

She stared into his eyes, absorbing his words, and his heart rate ramped up a notch. Calm her, Lord. Let her feel Your presence. And while You’re at it, You may need to give me the strength to let go of her hand.

After a long moment, she gave a slight nod, the worst of the worry in her eyes subsiding. He gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Aunt Abby! Look at me.”

Abby immediately pulled her hand from his and the two again turned as Trey and the boy neared, a toothy grin spread across the youngster’s face.

When they’d come to a halt in front of her, Abby gave a firm pat to the chestnut’s neck, not timid about it as he would have expected.

She smiled. “You looked good out there, Davy.”

“He did,” Brett confirmed as the boy reluctantly handed over the reins to Trey, then removed his riding helmet and reached up to set it atop the saddle horn.

Brett whipped off his own hat and stepped up to place it on the dark-haired head. “Now you look like a real cowboy.”

Davy beamed up at him.

“Get your daddy to buy you a hat.”

“And some real boots, too?” With a roll of his eyes, Davy looked down at the indignity of his makeshift attire. The class required footwear with a heel so little feet couldn’t slip through stirrups, but today Joe’s son was making do with a pair of laced, heeled work boots. Yep, the boy needed himself a hat and a pair of genuine cowboy boots.

Brett clapped him on the shoulder. “Mention that to your daddy, too.”

“Good job, Davy.” Trey lifted a hand in farewell. “See you at church tomorrow.”

Bubbling over with barely contained happiness, the boy returned Brett’s hat, then turned to half walk, half skip his way across the arena floor. Abby watched him in thoughtful silence, then turned again to Brett.

“Thank you,” she murmured almost shyly, and he again detected an underlying sadness in her eyes. She nodded to Trey and had barely turned away when a laughing Davy dashed back to grab her hand. Together they jogged toward the arena’s exit.

Brett twirled his hat on his finger, unable to suppress a grin.

“I’ve seen a lot of things in my day,” Trey said, shaking his head as he scratched Taco behind the ear. “But now I’ve seen it all. Nobody tops you, buddy. Ninety minutes into an introduction and you’re already holding hands with Davy’s aunt. What was that all about?”