I wish I were the one holding her right now. Showingher off and introducing her to my close friends and family. I’ve never done that before.
“Anything new on Waylon? I see he settled his cattle in nicely. Just as long as they don’t interfere with my herding, we’ll get along just fine,” I ask Clay.
“Waylon is doing well. Cattle are secured, and he’s got a crew of ranch hands scheduled to maintain the pasture once a day. Shouldn’t be much more than that. Easy money.”
“Good. Let’s keep him happy and have Granger, Creek, and Tuna keep those ranch hands in line. I want to make sure they’re bringing their own tools and equipment. He needs to use Coleson’s; it’ll come with a fee.”
“Noted,” Clay responds. “Speaking of Creek, he’s in pasture three checking on Nellie and baby Millie right now. She’s nursing well, and the baby is making gains. Dr. Gilmore says she’s confident that at the ninth month post-birth, Millie will be ready to wean.”
“That’s good news.” It’s nice to know I don’t have to stress too much about every aspect of the ranch. Clay operates hand in hand with the staff, which has been my saving grace lately. I’ve been a bit…distracted.
But fuck, I deserve it for once.
“And the wildflowers?” I ask Clay, hushed in volume. I’ve worked hard to keep this project a secret that only Clay knows about. There’s a gardener based out of Union, Texas, who specializes in wildflower health and production. I’d love to get the field back in full bloom, even with it being the beginning of summer. The color that bursts from the blossoms is extraordinary, and a picture I know Cove would be in awe over.
We’re expecting a downpour of rainfall next week, so hopefully, after everything Edith, the gardener, has done to preserve and nourish the blooms, we’ll see a fruitful payoff.
“Last Edith communicated was that buds are swelling, and she can already detect color coming from the pre-sprouts. I’d say after the rain next week, we can expect a full bloom.”
Then I can shower Cove in wildflowers galore.
“Good work, Clay. What would I do without you?” I clasp his shoulder.
Clay chuckles. “Well, for one, you’d scare away all your employees. Not to mention, be broke as fuck.”
Can’t say he’s wron?—
“Where’s the media?” My skin turns cold at the sound of Nate’s voice. Convenient he decides to show face and come out of his meeting hole—my guest room—only to be bothered that the media is nowhere to be found. I wonder how happy he’d be to know I paid them a very generous amount of money to get lost and never return days ago. I spotted one of the Texas news outlet rats staked out near an oak tree on my property the day we shot bows in the back.
Especially now that I know the intent behind them being here. I’m not a goddamn idiot. Nate called them ahead of time. They told me so. Well, I should say, they told me Harrison Hartwell paid them, which is a clear indicator of Nate’s hand in it, too.
Bastard. I should kill him along with the city boy.
I ignore Nate’s question, knowing that if I respond, I’ll snap. I need to pace myself tonight. It’s my main birthday celebration, and Abigail has been working all week to make this perfect. Family members who were absent earlier in the week have arrived, along with friends and old coworkers I haven’t seen in ages. So, I’ll save the blowout for the grand finale.
“Clay,” I mumble before turning back to face him,ignoring Nate altogether. “Hand me one of those magazines.”
He holds one in front of me, a stack of them at his feet that I hadn’t noticed. “Jesus,” I grumble before taking it and flipping through the pages to land on my interview. “How many of them did you bring?”
“Two hundred, of course,” Clay says with a wide-as-fuck smile on his face. I couldn’t muster a smile if I tried right now. My gaze lifts to Cove over the magazine, and the slightest grin curves at her lips. The firm beating in my chest dissipates to normal just thinking about last night.
Our words.
The pleasure we exchanged.
The affirmation of love and how we’re both undoubtedly on the same page.
She may be pretending with him, but her heart is tied to me. And I know what needs to be done for her to be a permanent fixture of happiness in my life.
“Have them all delivered to Ms. Davenport’s room,” I tell Clay, the idea occurring to me just now.
“What? Why would I do that?” I should have expected Clay wouldn’t let that one go. Not when he went through all this hassle to have two hundred sent to the ranch.
“Because I said so. Unless you had a better plan for them here?”
Clay looks puzzled. “No. I just figured I’d hand them out. Brag on you a little.”
“Cove’s room?” Nate contributes. “What does my daughter need with your magazines?”
