11. Shay
Chapter 11
Shay
Three months later
The sizzle of sausage patties fills the kitchen, the savory aroma mingling with the scent of cinnamon from the biscuits baking in the oven. The warm, homey smells wrap around me, a comforting cocoon against the early morning chill. Sunlight filters through the frosted windows, casting soft golden hues across the room, illuminating the cozy mess of breakfast prep.
I flip the patties with a practiced ease, savoring the moment of peace. The hum of voices from the table punctuates the crackle of meat cooking in the skillet. The Sutton men are already at it, their banter filling the house with a familiar energy I’ve grown to love.
“I’m telling you, boys,” Ben’s voice booms, his excitement unmistakable. “Goat farming is the way of the future. That ranch across the road is a prime opportunity, and we can’t let it slip through our fingers.”
I stifle a laugh, shaking my head as I grab a stack of plates from the counter. Ben’s enthusiasm is boundless, and his dreams—no matter how far-fetched—have a way of pulling everyone along for the ride.
Tom chimes in, his voice brimming with curiosity. “I’ve been reading up on it. Did you know goat's milk can be used for more than cheese? There are lotions, soaps, even gourmet butter. It’s a gold mine waiting to be tapped.”
I glance over my shoulder and catch sight of Henry sitting at the table with his arms crossed. His hair is mussed from sleep and my hands gripping it earlier this morning when his head was between my legs, licking me to an orgasm. The gray eyes that burned intensely as he thrust inside me are now narrowed in a skeptical glare. The contrast between Ben and Tom’s boundless enthusiasm and Henry’s signature grumpiness is almost too much. I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“You’re kidding,” Henry mutters, his tone heavy with disdain.
Tom bursts out laughing. “Oh, look who’s the comedian now.”
Angus looks at him blankly.
Tom smirks. “ Kidding . Goats. Get it?”
That earns a round of pained groans.
“Goat farming.” Only Henry could make two words sound like a condemnation of an entire way of life. “You’ve officially lost it, Dad. And you’ve dragged Tom and Angus into your insanity.”
The corner of my mouth twitches as I plate the sausages and turn off the burner. I’ve come to recognize Henry’s grumbling for what it is: the bluster of a man who cares deeply. Still, the exasperation in his voice has me suppressing a chuckle as I carry the platter to the table.
“Come on, Henry,” I chime in, setting the sausages down and sliding into my seat. “Don’t knock it until you try it. Goat farming could be fun. A new adventure for all of us.”
Henry lifts an eyebrow, his piercing gray gaze locking onto mine. His eyes flicker with amusement. Or is that resignation? Either way, I take it as a win.
Ben leans forward, clasping his hands together as he gives Henry a pointed look. “You see, son? Shay believes in us. Why are you so dead set against this idea?”
Henry leans back in his chair, his expression a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement. “Because goats are nothing but trouble. They’ll climb anything, eat everything, and escape at the first opportunity. Cows are hard enough to handle without adding those little escape artists to the mix.”
Tom, ever the optimist, grins as he reaches for a biscuit. “Come on, Henry. Where’s your sense of adventure? Think of it this way—we’d be diversifying. Isn’t that what you always say? Don’t put all your eggs in one basket?”
Henry groans, running a hand through his hair, but his expression is soft now. “Fine. If you’re all set on this harebrained idea, I won’t stand in your way. But don’t come crying to me when your goats are halfway to the next county.”
“See? Progress!” Tom exclaims, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast.
I reach out, placing my hand over Henry’s. His fingers, rough and calloused from years of hard work, turn to lace through mine. It’s a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes.
“Thank you,” I say softly, my eyes meeting his. “For always having their backs, even when you think they’re crazy.”
Henry’s gaze warms. “Someone’s gotta keep them out of trouble.”
“Good luck with that,” I tease.
Ben feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Now, Shay, goats are clever creatures. Give them a chance.”
“Sure they are,” Henry deadpans, his smirk betraying his amusement.
Laughter ripples around the table, and even Henry cracks a small smile.
“Enough about goats,” Angus says, rising from his seat and grabbing a stack of empty plates. “We’ve got work to do, people. Those cows aren’t going to feed themselves.”
“Talking of goats and, um, kids…” I bite my lip, my heart pounding as I glance at Henry.
His gray eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of curiosity breaking through his usual stoic expression. Around the table, the conversation tapers off, the Sutton men sensing a shift in the room’s energy.
“What about kids?” Henry asks, his voice low, tinged with suspicion, though the corner of his mouth quirks upward as if bracing for another of my teasing remarks.
I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around his. “Well, I wasn’t exactly talking about goats… I’m pregnant,” I say softly, the words hanging in the air like the first snowflake of winter, fragile and full of promise.
The room falls utterly silent. All eyes are on me now—Ben, Tom, Angus—all of them staring as if I’ve just announced aliens are landing in the backyard.
Henry freezes. I can’t tell if he’s breathing. His eyes widen, and his grip on my hand tightens as if he’s anchoring himself to reality. “You’re serious?”
I nod, the sting of happy tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “Yes, Henry. We’re having a baby.”
The room erupts into chaos. Ben’s chair scrapes back as he lets out a whoop loud enough to scare the dogs in the yard. “A baby!” he bellows, his face breaking into a grin that could rival the sunrise.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Tom looks between Henry and me with exaggerated disbelief. “Are we talking about an actual human kid or… like… another farm animal?”
“Oh, for the love of…” Angus groans, smacking Tom on the back of the head. “She means a baby, you idiot. You’re going to be an uncle.”
“Uncle Tom,” he muses, rubbing his chin. “I like the sound of that.”
Henry’s attention is locked on me, his expression a blend of awe and something softer—something I can only describe as joy.
“Shay…” he starts, but his voice cracks. He shakes his head and pulls me onto his lap. His embrace is fierce, protective, his tension melting away as he presses a kiss to my forehead.
“I didn’t think…” he whispers, his voice thick. “I didn’t think I could be happy again.”
“You’ve got seven months to get used to it,” I tease, leaning back to look into his silver eyes, now clear and bright with unguarded emotion.
Ben claps Henry on the back so hard he nearly knocks us both off the chair. “A baby! Congratulations, son. Shay, you’ve made this old man the happiest grandfather-to-be in the county.”
“Not just the county,” Tom interjects with a grin. “The whole damn state.”
As the laughter and chatter swell around the table, I can’t help but glance at Henry again. His hand never leaves mine, and his gaze drifts to my stomach, a mix of pride and protectiveness etched into his features.
“Looks like we’ll need to add a nursery to the ranch,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but steady, filled with a certainty that makes my heart swell.
“And maybe a few goats for the baby to play with,” I quip, earning an exaggerated groan from Henry.
As the conversation shifts to future plans for our baby, I snuggle against my husband and let their voices wash over me. This house, this family, has become home in a way I never imagined. The fear and uncertainty that plagued me when I first arrived have been replaced with something far more precious: the knowledge that I belong. To this man. To this ranch. To this family. And they belong to me.
I glance at Henry, deep in conversation with Ben about building a nursery and making the ranch childproof. His profile is rugged, his jawline sharp, and his gray eyes hold an intensity that never fails to draw me in. I smile, overwhelmed with gratitude for the man who’s become my partner in every sense of the word.
As the men clear the table and gather their gear for the day, I take a moment to soak it all in. The aroma of biscuits lingers in the air, mingling with the scuff of boots on the floor and the dogs barking excitedly outside. It’s chaotic and loud and messy… and perfect.
Henry catches my eye as he pulls on his jacket, his expression softening. “You coming with me, Shay?”
“Always,” I reply, slipping my hand into his as we head for the door.
The crisp morning air greets us, and I shiver slightly as Henry pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, his palm pressing against my stomach where our peanut is growing.
“Love you, Shay,” he murmurs, kissing me softly.
“Love you, Henry.”
We’re ready to tackle whatever challenges await. Whether it’s cows, goats, or life's unpredictable twists, I know we’ll face it all as a team. I’m not simply surviving—I’m thriving. With Henry by my side and surrounded by love, warmth, and the promise of a future brighter than I ever imagined, anything is possible.
This isn’t just a home anymore. It’s a legacy, a family, and the start of something extraordinary.