One balloon saysWelcome, Little Cowboyand another saysWelcome, Little Cowgirl.
“Did you buy out the entire gift shop?” Charli asks.
Her eyes dart around the room.
“Almost,” she says breathlessly. “Still no baby?”
Charli laughs. “Nope. Still cooking.”
Imma Jean exhales dramatically. “Oh, thank the Lord.”
She marches over and drops the flowers on the coffee table.
“The elevator was taking too long. I ran up the stairs like a bat out of hell.”
“Imma Jean,” I say, laughing, “the gift shop is only two floors down.”
“That’s two floors too many.”
She sits beside me and grabs my hand. “Any word from Caison? How’s Matty doing?”
“We don’t know yet,” I admit.
Her eyes soften. “Oh. Well, no news is good news.”
The door opens, and we all hold our breath until Holland Ludlow—Waylon’s father—steps into the small room with Caison’s mother clutching his arm.
Daddy walks over and shakes Holland’s hand.
“Thanks for picking Marcia up for us,” he says.
“No problem. Priscilla wanted to come, but thought it best she keep Ruby at home.”
Caison’s father and Holland were best friends, and he and Waylon’s mother, Priscilla, consider Caison family. They’re the ones who brought Caison to Wildhaven by offering him a job at Ironhorse when his father passed away.
Grandpa suddenly clears his throat loudly.
We all look over to where he sits.
He jerks his chin toward Grandma. “Evelyn,” he grumbles.
She opens one eye. “Yes?”
“I hope you’re over there asking the Lord for a baby boy.”
Grandma arches an eyebrow. “Why?”
Grandpa gestures vaguely toward us girls. “Because we need some extra testosterone in this family with all these weepy women. That house has been nothing but a tornado of female emotions for over twenty years.”
Charli gasps. “Excuse you.”
Shelby throws a sunflower seed shell at him.
Imma Jean cackles.
Grandpa shrugs like he’s just stating a basic scientific fact.
Daddy laughs. The sound bursts out of his chest and thunders around the stuffy room.
