“Believe me, I will. I’ll go meet up with Kaley and do it now.”
Candy walked away, leaving Eric alone at the nursery window with his son, a baby whose name was associated with miracles.
* * *
Dana watched her husband cradle their child in his arms. She was in her room now, with her family by her side, including Candy. At this point, Candy was as close to family as a friend could get and Dana would always see her that way.
Dana was surrounded by love. With Eric’s help, she’d already nursed the baby. She’d held Jude so close that while he’d suckled she’d wanted to burst with the joy of it.
“He does look like both of us,” Eric said. “He has my coloring and your bright blue eyes.”
“He’s going to be quite the ladies’ man,” Candy said.
“Yep.” Kaley grinned from her chair. She’d already taken tons of pictures of the baby with her smartphone and texted the images to everyone in her contacts list. Her phone had been beeping like crazy with responses.
Candy came over and sat beside Dana. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m tired, but I’ve never been happier.” She glanced over at Eric again. He was walking the baby around the room.
“You picked a good one, that’s for sure.”
She nodded. She knew Candy was talking about Eric. “I can’t wait until Jude and I can go home with him.”
“How long will that be?”
“I’m not sure. Three or four days, maybe.”
“Just rest while you’re here.”
“I will. I want to get better.” She took yet another glance at her husband. She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him. “He already arranged to take time off from work to help me with the baby. And now that I had surgery, I’m going to value his help more than ever.”
“I’ll come by when I can. And so will Kaley.” Candy leaned in close. “You’d be proud of the way Eric kept us together while you were in surgery.”
“He told me that he stayed positive for everyone.” And it made her heart glad to hear it from Candy. She would never tire of knowing that Eric had truly conquered his fears.
Suddenly he looked over and smiled. Both women returned his smile. The baby had fallen asleep in his arms.
“Can I hold him?” Kaley asked.
“Sure.” Eric approached his daughter.
She turned off her phone and put it away. He transferred the infant into her waiting arms.
“Hey, Jude,” she said, quite purposefully. “We’re going to be saying that a lot of him.” She sang the first few lines of the song. “I downloaded it so I would know the words.”
“I’m sure he appreciates it,” Dana told her.
Kaley rocked the baby. “He seems to. Look at his little face. It’s so scrunched up.”
Eric laughed. “Yours was like that, too.”
“I know. It’s amazing how beautiful newborns are, even with those funny little faces.”
Dana said, “I think it’s those funny little faces that make them beautiful.”
Candy resumed the chair beside Kaley’s, leaving the bed free for Eric. He scooted in next to Dana and they held hands, content in the closeness.
Kaley brought Jude over to Dana and placed the baby in her arms, giving her a chance to hold her son again. Eric stroked the baby’s hair and Jude opened his eyes and squinted at his parents. They smiled, awed by the moment.
And every moment that was yet to come.
Epilogue
E
ric watched Dana bustle around the diner. He’d come here for dinner with Jude. Their one-year-old son sat in a high chair, playing with a plastic truck and grinning his adorable grin. His blue eyes sparkled every time he caught sight of his mother.
Dana worked here a few days a week, and although she was still in school, she kept changing her mind about her major. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be an interior designer. She was considering psychology or animal husbandry or heaven knew what else. She was as beautifully scattered as ever. But she was also the best wife and mother in the world. Eric thanked the Creator every day for her.
Jude banged his toy on the high chair tray and said, “Mama.”
“I know, little man. Your mama is working tonight. But she’ll be off soon and she’s going to sit down and eat with us. She put in a food order for herself, too.”
As promised, Dana finished up with her other customers, then joined Eric and Jude. She set their meals on the table and kissed the top of Jude’s head. He showed her his toy, and she kissed it, too. The boy laughed and handed it to Eric.
“Dada,” he said.
Eric took the truck and mimicked Dana, kissing the wheels of the vehicle. Jude laughed again, and Eric returned the toy.
“Eat your dinner, sweetie.” Dana adjusted the child’s bib and motioned to the finger food she’d placed on his tray.
He squished most of it, but he nibbled on some, too.
She sat across from Eric. “Hello, lover.”
“Hello to you.” He smiled. She looked like a dream, in her bright pink uniform with a silk flower in her hair. He enjoyed seeing her in her work clothes. It was a reminder of how they’d met.
“Meat loaf for my husband.” She motioned for him to eat, with the same waggling-finger wave that she’d given to their son.
He looked at her plate. She was having spaghetti and meatballs. “If Jude decides he wants some of that, it’s going to create a mess.”
She shrugged. “I brought plenty of napkins. And we’ve got baby wipes in the diaper bag.”
As always, nothing fazed Dana. He loved that about her. Eric imagined spaghetti in the kid’s hair.
The miracle kid,
he thought.
He looked over at Jude. He was pouring water from his sippy cup onto his food in typical toddler fashion.
“We should have another one,” Dana said.
Eric just stared at her. “Another baby?”
She laughed. “Yes, but I was just kidding. I wanted to see the panic on your face.”
“Are you sure you’re not hankering for another one?”
“I’m positive. Our little guy is enough for me.”
By now Jude was running his truck through the food. Eric chuckled. “For me, too.”
“Ryan and Victoria are finally trying for a baby.”
“They are? How do you know that?”
“Victoria told Kaley, and Kaley told me.”
“Ah, the women’s circle. Talk. Talk. Talk.” When she raised her eyebrows at him, he quickly added, “That’s great about Ryan and Victoria. I hope it happens soon for them.”
“It probably will. Look how easily they conceived Kaley.”
She twined a glob of spaghetti around her fork. “Things aren’t going so well for Candy, though. She’s going to have to sell her house.”
“Really? Why?”
“She owed a balloon payment and it came due, and now she doesn’t have the money. She tried to refinance, but she’s in over her head and can’t get another loan. She’s going to try to sell the house herself instead of using a Realtor because she can’t afford to give away the commission.”
“I’m sorry that she’s in trouble. I wish I had the money to loan her.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you to want to help. But she’ll get through it. And who knows, maybe something really good will come of it.”
Eric didn’t see where anything good was going to come out of being forced to sell your house, but he knew better than to question Dana’s positive beliefs. She’d been right so far.
He cut into his meat loaf. “You know what’s weird? I actually know someone who’s looking to buy a house in her area.”
Her eyes lit up. “Who?”
“An old powwow friend of mine. You haven’t met him yet. I just ran into him the other day and while we were catching up, he mentioned that he was house-hunting.”
“You should put him in touch with Candy.”
“I will, but there’s no guarantee that a sale will be made between them.”
“It seems kind of fate-ish, though, don’t you think?”
“What does? Me knowing someone who’s looking for a house at the same time she’s selling hers? I suppose it does, but not everything is fate. It could just be coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence. Everything happens for a reason.” She turned to Jude. “Right, baby?”
The boy banged his toy in the mess he’d made, splashing himself and Dana. She laughed and cupped his food-splattered cheeks. He tried to reach for her spaghetti.
Here it comes,
Eric thought. The bigger mess. The mother-and-son chaos. Jude had his mama’s free-spirited personality.
“You want some?” She fed him from her fork. But that only lasted for a few bites.
Within no time, Jude was squeezing bits of pasta between his fingers and pealing into happy hysterics, right along with Dana.
Eric removed the baby wipes from the diaper bag, preparing to tackle the mess when it was over. But he laughed, too. How could he not? His family always gave him insurmountable joy. They were his life, his love, his never-ending bliss.
He wouldn’t trade their nuttiness for all of the normalcy in the world. Eric liked things just the way they were.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from MARRYING DR. MAVERICK by Karen Rose Smith.
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Chapter One
B
rooks Smith rapped firmly on the ranch-house door, scanning the all-too-familiar property in the dusk.
His dad didn’t answer right away, and Brooks thought about going around back to the veterinary clinic, but then he heard footsteps and waited, bracing himself for this conversation.
After his father opened the door, he looked Brooks over, from the beard stubble that seemed to be ever present since the flood to his mud-covered boots. Tending to large animals required trekking through fields sometimes.
“You don’t usually come calling on a Tuesday night. Run into a problem you need me for?”
Barrett Smith was a barrel-chested man with gray hair and ruddy cheeks. At six-two, Brooks topped him by a couple of inches. The elder Smith had put on another ten pounds over the past year, and Brooks realized he should have been concerned about that before today.
There was challenge in his dad’s tone as there had been since they’d parted ways. But as a doctor with four years of practice under his belt, Brooks didn’t ask for his dad’s advice on animal care or frankly anything else these days.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Brooks entered the living room where he’d played as a child. The Navajo rugs were worn now, the floor scuffed.
“I only have a few minutes,” his father warned him. “I haven’t fed the horses yet.”
“I’ll get straight to the point, then.” Brooks swiped off his Stetson and ran his hand through his hair, knowing this conversation was going to get sticky. “I ran into Charlie Hartzell at the General Store.”
His father avoided his gaze. “So?”
“He told me that when he stopped by over the weekend, you weren’t doing too well.”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” his dad muttered, not meeting Brooks’s eyes.
“He said you carried a pail of oats to the barn and you were looking winded and pale. You dropped the bucket and almost passed out.”
“Anybody can have an accident. After I drank a little water, I was fine.”
Not so true according to Charlie, Brooks thought. His dad’s longtime friend had stayed another hour to make sure Barrett wasn’t going to keel over.
“You’re working too hard,” Brooks insisted. “If you’d let me take over the practice, you could retire, take care of the horses in the barn and help out as you want.”
“Nothing has changed,” Barrett said angrily. “You still show no sign of settling down.”
This was an old argument, one that had started after Lynnette had broken their engagement right before Brooks had earned his degree in veterinary medicine from Colorado State. That long-ago night, his father had wanted to discuss it with him, but with Brooks’s pride stinging, he’d asked his dad to drop it. Barrett hadn’t. Frustrated, his father had blown his top, which wasn’t unusual. What
was
unusual was his warning and threat—he’d never retire and turn his practice over to Brooks until his son found a woman who would stick by him and build a house on the land his grandmother had left him.
Sure enough...
“Your grandmama’s land is still sitting there with no signs of a foundation,” his dad went on. “She wanted you to have roots, too. That’s why she left it to you. Until you get married and at least
think
about having kids, I can handle my own practice just fine. And you should butt out.”
He could rise to the bait. He could argue with his father as he’d done before. But he didn’t want his dad’s blood pressure to go any higher so he stuck to being reasonable. “You can issue an ultimatum if you want, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you. You can’t keep working the hours you’ve been working since the flood. You’re probably not eating properly, grabbing donuts at Daisy’s and potato chips at the General Store.”
“Are you keeping track of what I buy where?”
“Of course not. I’m worried about you.”
“Well, don’t be. Worry about yourself. Worry about the life you don’t have.”
“I have a life, Dad. I’m living it
my
way.”
“Yeah, well, twenty years from now you just tell me how that went. I’m going out back. You can see yourself out.”
As his father turned to leave, Brooks knew this conversation had been useless. He knew he probably shouldn’t even have come. He had to find a way to make his father wake up to the reality of his deteriorating health. He would...one way or another.
* * *
Jasmine Cates—“Jazzy” to her friends and family—stood outside the Ace in the Hole, Rust Creek Falls’ lone bar, staring up at the wood-burned sign. She glanced around at the almost deserted street, hoping she’d catch sight of her friend Cecilia, who was tied up at a community meeting. They were supposed to meet here.
On the north side of town, the Ace in the Hole hadn’t been touched by the devastating July flood, but Jazzy didn’t know if she felt comfortable walking into the place alone. It was a rough and rowdy cowboy hangout, a place single guys gathered to relax. But when they relaxed, all hell could break loose. She’d heard about occasional rumbles and bar fights here.
Feeling as if she’d scrubbed herself raw from her shower at Strickland’s Boarding House, attempting to wash off the mud from a disastrous date, she passed the old-fashioned hitching post out front and stared up at the oversize playing card—an ace of hearts—that blinked in red neon over the door. After she climbed two rough-hewn wooden steps, Jazzy opened the old screen door with its rusty hinges and let it slap behind her. A country tune poured from a jukebox. Booths lined the outer walls while wooden tables with ladder-back chairs were scattered across the plank flooring around a small dance floor. Jazzy glimpsed pool tables in the far back. Old West photos as well as those from local ranches hung on the walls. A wooden bar was situated on the right side of the establishment crowded with about a dozen bar stools, and a mirrored wall reflected the rows of glass bottles.
Cowboys and ranch hands filled the tables, and a few gave her glances that said they might be interested in talking...or more. Jazzy quickly glanced toward the bar. There was one bar stool open and it was next to—
Wasn’t that Dr. Brooks Smith? She hadn’t officially met him, but in her volunteer work, helping ranch owners clean up, paint and repair, she’d caught sight of him now and then as he tended to their animals. She’d liked the way he’d handled a horse that’d been injured. He’d been respectful of the animal and downright kind.
Decision made, she crossed to the bar and settled on the stool beside him. Brooks had that sexy, scruffy look tonight. He was tall and lean and broad-shouldered. Usually he wore a smile for anyone he came in contact with, but now his expression was granitelike, and his hands were balled into fists. It didn’t even look like he’d touched his beer.
As if sensing her regard, and maybe her curiosity, he turned toward her. Their gazes met and there was intensity in his brown eyes that told her he’d been thinking about something very serious. His gaze swept over her blond hair, snap-button blouse and jeans, and that intensity shifted into male appreciation.
“You might need a bodyguard tonight,” he drawled. “You’re the only woman in the place.”
He could be
her
bodyguard anytime. She quickly banished that thought. Hadn’t she heard somewhere that he didn’t date much? Love gone wrong in his romantic history?
“I’m meeting a friend.” She stuck out her hand. “You’re Brooks Smith. I’m Jazzy Cates. I’ve seen you around the ranches.”
He studied her again. “You’re one of the volunteers from Thunder Canyon.”
“I am,” she said with a smile, glad he’d recognized her.
When he took her hand to shake it, she felt tingles up her arm. That couldn’t be, could it? She’d almost been engaged to a man and hadn’t felt tingles like
that
. Brooks’s grip was strong and firm, his hand warm, and when he took it away, she felt...odd.
“Everyone in town appreciates the help,” he said.
“Rust Creek Falls is a tight-knit community. I heard stories about what happened after the flood. Everyone shared what was in their freezers so no one would go hungry.”
Brooks nodded. “The community spirit was stoked by Collin Traub and the way he pulled everyone together.”
“I heard about his proposal to Willa Christensen on Main Street but I didn’t see it myself.”
Brooks’s eyes darkened at her mention of a proposal, and she wondered why.
“He and Willa seem happy” was all Brooks said.
So the man didn’t gossip. She liked that. She liked a lot about him. Compared to the cowboy she’d been out with earlier tonight—
A high-energy country tune played on the jukebox and snagged their attention for a moment. Jazzy asked, “Do you come here often?”
“Living and mostly working in Kalispell, I don’t usually have the time. But I’ll meet a friend here now and then.”
Kalispell was about twenty miles away, the go-to town for everything anyone in Rust Creek Falls needed and couldn’t find in their small town. “So you have a practice in Kalispell?”
“I work with a group practice there. We were called in to help here because my dad couldn’t handle it all.”
She’d heard Brooks’s father had a practice in Rust Creek Falls and had assumed father and son worked together. Her curiosity was aroused. She certainly knew about family complications. “I guess you’re not needed here as much now since the town’s getting back on its feet.”
“Not as much. But there are still animals recovering from injuries during the flood and afterward. How about you? Are you still cleaning out mud from homes that had water damage?”
“Yep, but I’m working at the elementary school, too.”
“That’s right, I remember now. You came with Dean Pritchett’s group.”
“Dean’s been a friend of our family for years. He was one of the first to volunteer to help.”
“How long can you be away from Thunder Canyon?”
“I’m not sure.” Because Brooks
was
a stranger, she found herself saying what she couldn’t to those closest to her. “My job was...static. I need a business degree to get a promotion and I’ve been saving for that. I came here to help, but I also came to escape my family. And...I needed a change.”
“I can understand that,” Brooks said with a nod. “But surely they miss you back home, and a woman like you—”
“A woman like me?”
“I’d think you’d have someone special back there.”
She thought about Griff Wellington and the proposal he’d wanted to make and the proposal she’d avoided by breaking off their relationship. Her family had tried to convince her she should marry him, but something inside her had told her she’d known better. Griff had been hurt and she hated that. But she couldn’t tie them both to a relationship she’d known wasn’t right.
Maybe it was Brooks’s easy way; maybe it was the interest in his eyes; maybe it was the way he listened, but she admitted, “No one special. In fact, I had a date tonight before I ended up here.”
“Something about that doesn’t sound right. If you had a date, why isn’t he here with you?”
“He’s a calf roper.”
Brooks leaned a little closer to hear her above the music. His shoulder brushed hers and she felt heat other places besides there. “What does that have to do with your date?”
“That
was
the date.”
Brooks pushed his Stetson higher on his head with his forefinger.
“What?”
“Calf-roping. He thought it would be fun if he showed me how he did it. That would have been fine, but then he wanted
me
to do it. Yes, I ride. Yes, I love horses. But I’d never calf-roped before and so I tried it. There was mud all over the place and I slipped and fell and I was covered with mud from head to toe.”
Brooks was laughing by then, a deep, hearty laugh that seemed to echo through her. She liked the fact she could make him laugh. Genially, she bumped his arm. “It wasn’t so funny when it was happening.”
He gave her a crooked smile that said he was a little bit sorry he laughed, but not much. “Whatever gave him the impression you’d like to try that out?”
“I have no clue, except I did tell him I like horses. I did try to be interested in what he did, and I asked him questions about it.”
“This was a first date?” Brooks guessed.
“It was the
last
date,” Jazzy responded.
“Not the last date
ever
.”
She sighed. “Probably not.”
Was he thinking of asking her out? Or were they just flirting? With that twinkle in his eyes, she imagined he could flirt with the best of them if he really wanted to.
“So you came here to meet a friend and hash out everything that’s happened,” he concluded.
“My gosh, a guy who understands women!”
He laughed again. “No, not so well.”
She wondered what
that
meant. “When I’m at home, sometimes I talk it all out with my sisters.”
“How many do you have?”
“I have four sisters, a brother and parents who think they know what’s best for me.”
“You’re lucky,” Brooks said.
“Lucky?”
“Yep. I’m the only one. And I lost my mom a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Water under the bridge.”
But something in his tone said that it wasn’t, so she asked, “Are you close to your dad?”
“He’s the reason I stopped in here tonight.”
“To meet him?”
“Nope.” He hesitated, then added, “We had another argument.”
“Another?”
Brooks paused again before saying, “My dad’s not taking care of himself, and I can’t give him what he wants most.”
In her family, Jazzy usually said what she thought, and most of the time, no one heard her. But now she asked, “And what’s that?”
“He wants me to marry, and I’ll never do that.”
Whoa! She wanted to ask that all-important question—why?—but they’d just officially met and she knew better than to probe too much. She hated when her family did that.
Her questions must have led Brooks to think he could ask some of his own because he leaned toward her again. This time his face was very close to hers as he inquired, “So what was the job you left?”