I needed to get right with her, since I felt as though the happy family I’d been imagining was slipping out of my grasp. The realization that she was still planning for two nurseries hadthrown me for a loop and I hadn’t reacted well. I’d been dwelling on it ever since.
I regretted my hasty retreat from her bed, and had even considered turning back. But I’d suspected if I’d stuck around, we wouldn’t have resolved anything. At least not the way I wanted to. I needed to use the time I had with her to work this out. There had to be a way to make this all work and convince her that we should live together on my ranch. It was the only thing that made sense in my head.
“I’ve got ten minutes,” she said after greeting me.
“Busy day?”
“Very. Started early with some sick alpacas and one very cranky peacock that came from no-one-knows-where. I’m in the clinic now and so far, I’ve had to deal with three dogs and four cats, including a very pregnant Persian who snuck outside to get it on with the neighborhood feral. How are you?”
She didn’t sound upset that I hadn’t called her, which was good, I supposed. “Tractor in a drainage ditch.”
“Oh, no.” I could hear the bell over the door at her clinic chime. “That’s my next patient. Is there something you wanted to talk about or should I call you after they leave?”
I didn’t want to wait, so I blurted out, “I think we need to focus on us. No horse talk, no baby shopping. Us.” That was the conclusion I’d reached earlier in the day. It wasn’t that the other stuff was getting in the way. That other stuff was important, especially when it came to our child, but with all our focus on everything else, we hadn’t spent much time outside of bed where it was just about the two of us. I felt I owed it to our baby to havea solid relationship with Julia by the time our little girl or boy came along. “How about a date?”
There was a pause, enough to make me worry she’d reject the idea. “A date? Could we go stargazing again? That was my favorite?—”
“I was thinking a real date. Going out. How about the Squeaky Wheel? We could dance,” I said. She liked dancing with me, or so it had seemed the night of the fundraiser. And I’d loved having her in my arms.
“Oh, okay,” she accepted. “But maybe we could ask Brian and Caitlin and Cal and Amy to join us. A triple date. I’d like to get to know them all better, since they’ll be our baby’s aunts and uncles.”
Not what I had in mind. I envisioned the evening as just the two of us, but I’d take what I could get with her. And if she felt more comfortable with my family, maybe she’d be more open to the idea of moving to the ranch. “Sure. I’ll make the phone calls. Tomorrow night? I could come pick you up?”
“Yes, pick me up,” she confirmed. “I won’t leave without you this time. Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”
Before I could say goodbye, she hung up the phone. I tapped out a text to Brian and Cal about joining us at the bar.
I picked her up the next evening. She wore the red dress again, the one I’d been happy to help her out of on the night of the dance.
“It’s the only dress I have that fits,” she admitted when she met me at her door.
“I like it. You look beautiful,” I said.
“Thank you.” She gave her dogs each a pat on the head and locked her door. “I may need some new clothes soon, roomier ones.”
“Maternity?” I asked.
“I’m not ready for that yet. I just need a few things that don’t cut off my circulation. Are the others meeting us?”
“That’s right.” My brothers and their fiancées were happy to join us and it hadn’t taken any convincing. As much as I wanted Julia alone, going with a group did take some of the pressure off. During the drive, she told me about the patients she’d seen recently, including more details on where they’d eventually discovered the peacock had come from and an amusing story about two dogs who decided they were in love in her waiting room.
Neither of us touched on anything personal. Maybe on the trip home or during the evening we’d get there. At least that was my hope when we pulled into the parking lot of the Squeaky Wheel. Mounted over the building was a giant lighted sign with a turning wagon wheel but some of the bulbs had burned out making the wheel look as if it truly did squeak.
The other couples were getting out of Brian’s truck, having come together, so we all walked in at the same time.
“Whoo-hoo,” Caitlin exclaimed. “It’s karaoke night. Let’s get a table near the front.”
So much for dancing. I’d have to find another way to be close to Julia. I took her hand as we walked to a table close to the stage, where a young man was singing a poor rendition of an Alan Jackson song. When he finished, people graciously clapped anyway.
“Who’s next?” the bar’s manager, acting as a sort of emcee, asked over the microphone.
Cal raised his hand, gave Amy a wink, and walked up on stage. A minute later he was singing an old Alabama love song. Cal’s attention was focused straight on Amy. No one in the bar could have doubted that she was his love. The applause was loud when he finished.
“I suppose you want me to do that,” Brian said to Caitlin as Cal returned to the table. “I can if you really want me to.”
This I would pay money to see. My twin was about the last guy to sing karaoke willingly. Not that he had a bad voice, but he couldn’t stand the attention and he didn’t like to do anything that might reflect poorly on his position as sheriff.
“Not necessary,” Caitlin said with a grin. “I know how much you’d hate that. But if you’re into gestures to prove your love, you could let me tattoo something on you. Maybe something on the other ass-cheek? Hate to see that one be bare.”
