My days in the fields start at sunrise and end well after sunset, with barely enough hours to get everything done. I’ve been told I have tunnel vision when it comes to the ranch. In my defense, running a large operation leaves little room for error, and I can’t afford delays that will set us behind schedule.
However, today my focus was completely shot. I left for work after breakfast, but my thoughts kept circling back to Charlie.
Mywife.
I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for her, and the earliest they could get us in was late next week. They assured me that Charlie should be fine waiting that long for her first ultrasound, especially since she hasn’t experienced any cramping or spotting.
I kept refreshing her CGM app today, checking to make sure her blood sugar levels stayed steady. She had a small dip this afternoon, but it was quickly corrected, so I held off on checking in with her about it.
Finding her slumped over the counter this morning had shaken me more than I expected. She’s lived with diabetes for years without me, so I’d never try to tell her how to manage it. I just want to make things easier for her without overstepping.
By three, I gave up pretending I could focus and left work early. Technically, it’s our honeymoon, so it felt justified. Besides, there was no way I was letting Charlie visit her grandma alone, not after I promised I’d go with her.
We’re walking into Meadowbrook two hours later when she catches my arm, stopping me near the entrance. “You sure about this? You can still get in your truck and drive away. I can take the taxi home when I’m finished.”
There’s no way Earl is driving her anywhere when she’s carrying precious cargo.
“Your grandma might be intimidating, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” I deal with ornery cattle daily, so a disgruntled family member should be a breeze. Right?
“You say that now, but you’ve never seen her and Florence in action. They’re like bloodhounds when they catch wind of something remotely interesting, especially when I’m involved.”
I reach out to squeeze her hand. “Charlie. It’s going to be fine. I promise. We’re going to go inside and share the big news that we’re expecting. They’ll be too excited about the baby to be upset that we didn’t tell them sooner and got married in secret.”
“And conveniently forgot to mention it?” she asks dryly. “I’m sure they’ll let thatminordetail slide.”
I chuckle softly. “They’ll be so busy planning quilts and discussing baby names that they won’t have a spare second to be upset.”
That’s the hope, anyway. I wouldn’t underestimate women with a grievance, though. I’ve had enough experience with Ma and Briar to know better. On the bright side, Charlie’s grandma and Florence will most likely aim any anger or frustration at me. I’m more than willing to take the hit if it keeps Charlie out of the crosshairs. I’m just glad she wanted me to come with her. It means she’s not shutting me out anymore, and that’s progress.
She exhales, the tension easing from her shoulders. “I hope you’re right.”
I let out a low whistle. “That’s probably the closest to a compliment I’ve gotten from you.”
She shakes her head, amusement shining in her eyes. “Don’t get used to it. It’s only because we have to put on a united front.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up. “If you say so.”
Charlie drops her hand from my arm and readjusts the purse on her shoulder. “I think I’m ready now. Let’s do this.”
“Lead the way, hellcat.” I wink, holding the door open as I follow her inside.
Several residents mill about the lobby, but I don’t see Charlie’s grandmother.
We’ve never spoken, but I’ve seen her around town enough to recognize her in a crowd. She has a well-earned reputation for being fiercely protective of Charlie, so I’m not looking forward to an interrogation about my intentions.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. There goes my peaceful afternoon,” a woman hollers in our direction.
She’s perched in an oversized armchair, wearing enough jewelry to rival a department store display. As we approach, I realize it’s Florence.
“Hey, old bat. Glad to see I’m still your favorite form of entertainment,” Charlie calls across the lobby.
“I’ve been waiting for you to show up all day.” Florence smirks, folding her hands in her lap with the composure of a Mafia boss sizing up his next target.
“Oh, how come?” Charlie asks, her voice going up an octave.
“You’re not the only one I swap tea with, deary. Barbara’s granddaughter, MaryAnn, brings me trinkets from her Paris work trips.” One look at the gleam in her eyes, and it’s obvious Florence has a weakness for expensive things that sparkle. “Today she had one of those fancy designer bags that rich folks tie scarves around the handle of—the kind you can only get after spending an ungodly amount of money.”
“A Birkin?”
