Chapter 44
Beau
Four months later…
I cracked open the cold bottle of beer, sipping the overflow of foam as I leaned back in the old wicker chair on my front porch. Summer was just around the corner, and I was already feeling run into the ground managing the ranch.
The weather the past few days had us scrambling.
Nothing new; just a harsh line of storms that didn’t pass through as quickly as we were anticipating.
Had our cattle out in a far pasture and needed to drive them into a closer field in order to keep them safe.
Sure, they weathered the storm just fine once we got them where they needed to be, but it was an oversight I was ready to get chewed out for.
My dad was pushing me hard to take over our family’s ranch.
The Silver Ridge Ranch had been ours for over a hundred and fifty years, and keeping its legacy alive fell squarely on my shoulders.
Lucky for me, I loved ranching. You wouldn’t catch me ever trying to be a deputy like my brother Colt.
Or a firefighter like my brother Hayes. Nope.
Leave the chaos of humans to them. I was happy with the cattle.
A car started driving up the long road to my house.
I could tell you every detail about that damn car just from the sound of its engine.
I’d been listening to it drive to my place for the last fifteen years.
And I could tell you every last detail about the blonde-haired, sun-kissed, probably absolutely exhausted woman behind the steering wheel.
Birdie’s car spun up dirt that danced in the lowering sunlight like glitter. Fitting, because my best friend was all sunshine and rainbows. She’d been that way the first day I met her in kindergarten.
And as much as I enjoyed being a black cloud, pretending nothing could move or shake me, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Because in quiet moments like this, when I could sit here and watch my best friend drive towards my house after a day that felt like it might never end, it was easy to whisper the truth for only my lonely ears to hear.
I loved her.
Not a new revelation for me. No. Instead, it was one I’d thought about over and over a million different times throughout our friendship.
My family was so goddamn pushy about it, I’m still surprised she hasn’t run away from their constant comments about us.
And yes, fuck. I’d meant to make a move.
To shift us from the friend zone into something more.
But the weight of the world was always on Birdie’s shoulders.
She’d basically raised her sister on her own after her dad took off.
Her mom was—and let’s be honest, still is—flighty at best. Probably why she nicknamed her daughter ‘Birdie’.
The car came to a stop right next to my truck, and out she stepped, looking absolutely dead on her feet. I wanted to run out and scoop her up. Tell her I was running her a bath and that her plate for supper was being kept warm in the oven. But I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t risk everything falling apart. Because if I only ever got to experience this woman in this way, it was more than I fucking deserved. I wouldn’t let anything break us. Not even my hope that something more might have once been in the cards for us.
“Hey, cowboy. You waiting out here for little ol’ me?
” she teased. Her hair was sticking out of the braid she had draped over her shoulder.
I’d learned a long time ago when Birdie first started working at the hospital that the messier her hair was at the end of a shift, the more chaotic it had been for her.
I chuckled, bringing the bottle back to my lips. The amber liquid went down, cooling the fire in my belly.
“Hey, chickadee. Rough shift?”
She ran her fingers over her hair as she walked up the steps towards me. I thought maybe she’d head right inside and go get changed, but instead, she stopped two steps away from me, took the bottle out of my hand, and drained it.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” I asked as she handed the bottle back to me. “You look exhausted.”
“Wow. Thanks. You know just how to charm the ladies, don’t you?” Birdie chirped at me.
I reached out, taking hold of her hand. She squeezed against my hold playfully. “I just meant you shouldn’t have driven all the way out here if you were so wiped out.”
“Yeah. I know there’s no scientific data to support this, but I swear low pressure systems send everyone into labor. I delivered three babies during the storm. Dr. Witten delivered five over the last two shifts, including a set of twins. It’s just madness there right now.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to head to your place or come out here, but I did save you some steak and a baked potato. Feel up to eating?”
Sometimes, after a long shift, she wouldn’t eat until after she slept.
Her hand patted against my chest, and I knew what her answer was before she even opened her mouth.
“Okay.” I chuckled. “I’ll put it in the fridge for when you wake up tomorrow. Go on. Head upstairs.”
Her smile was blinding, and my heart tripped over itself in my chest.
“Are you tired?” she asked, yawning as she looked over her shoulder out across the fields. “You have to move the herd before the storm rolled through?”
“Yes, to both of your questions. But I’ll take the couch tonight. Just gotta jump in the shower and then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“It’s your bedroom, Beau.”
“I don’t think I’m responsible for the fancy, ice cold sheets on the bed, or the frilly lace curtains that got put up, though. You might as well enjoy them. And I’m not sure how it happened, but my bottom drawer is filled with your pajamas…” I teased.
“You’re always getting the short stick in this deal. I feel bad.”
“Are you kidding me? Knowing you’re upstairs…knowing you're safe in my house. That’s the fucking dream, Birdie. I’ll sleep like a king on the couch. Always do. Come on.” I slid my hand against the small of her back, gently pushing her inside after I’d opened the door.
She took off up the stairs while I made my way to the kitchen, taking her supper out of the oven and dumping it into a container to keep it fresh until tomorrow when she could reheat it.
There was a little more cleaning up to do from cooking, but it could wait until the morning.
I didn’t want to keep her up with running the shower too late.
Right as I walked in the room, she was stepping out of the bathroom. In my shirt and a pair of her sleep shorts. Fuck.
“Bathroom’s all yours.” She smiled as she pulled back the comforter and got into bed.
“Right.” I cleared my throat, grabbing some clean clothes out of my closet. One five minute shower set on the fucking coldest temperature I could get it to, and I was towel drying off my hair as I opened the bathroom door, expecting to see her fast asleep in bed.
But she wasn’t. She had every part of her body tucked into the blankets. Except for her eyes. As soon as her gaze met mine, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I asked.
“Maybe you could…” Her eyes closed for a second, and I could feel the apprehension pouring off of her. Tossing my towel in the hamper, I padded towards the bed.
“What?” I tugged at the blanket covering her face.
“Can you stay? Can we snuggle?”
She had a tough day. A really tough day, if she was asking me to stay. “Of course I can stay. You want to talk about it?”
“About your cuddles?” she deflected.
“Birdie…”
“No. I don’t want to talk about it. Because you’re going to get all growly and protective, and I’m sleepy and just want to forget about what happened.”
The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. Something bad had happened. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I’ll tell you about it in the morning. Tonight, I just want to feel safe. I just want to know I’m safe. Please, cowboy?”
“Alright. But in the morning, first thing, we’ll talk about what happened. Promise?”
“Promise.”
I slipped into bed behind her. This was nothing new; we cuddled from time to time.
Usually after something upset one of us, but sometimes there was no reason at all.
Other than the need to be close to each other.
No matter the reason, every time we ended up like that, it felt so fucking special.
I was her safe place. And holding her tight, feeling her relax against me, it just served as a reminder that she was mine, too.
My arm moved under her back, an attempt to get her to roll towards me. But as soon as I touched her side, Birdie gasped.
“What the fuck?” The words, drowning in concern, raced out of me. “You’re hurt! Did someone hurt you?”
“It’s nothing,” she whispered, rolling towards me to press her face into my chest.
“Chickadee, you’re crying. It doesn’t feel like nothing. Tell me. What happened?”
“In the morning. Remember? I just need…I just need some sleep. I promise this reaction isn’t because I’m hurt. I’m not. I’m sore, but good. I’m just really tired.”
“Am I going to see a bruise on your side in the morning?” I asked, letting my chin rest on her head.
“Probably,” she mumbled, already sounding like she was slipping towards sleep. “Don’t be grumpy. Sleep.”
Like that was going to fucking happen. I needed to know how she got hurt. I needed to know if there was someone I needed to hurt in return.
A loud banging noise came from downstairs.
“Someone’s knocking on the door,” Birdie whispered.
“Probably just one of my brothers. They can fuck off until morning.”
“Beau. They wouldn’t just show up if it wasn’t something serious. Go check.”
“I don’t want to leave you—”
“I’m fine.” She yawned before rolling away from me. “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you come back up here.”
I nodded, not that she could see. As gently as I could, I moved off the bed, mentally running through the list of curse words I was about to unleash on whichever dumb ass brother of mine had ruined this moment for me.
The shock of a lifetime came when I opened the door, and instead of being greeted with one of my brothers, a petite woman in a pantsuit greeted me. A woman with a baby.
“Uh, hello. Can I help you?”
The woman looked up from the baby in the car seat and smiled. “Are you Beau Lindsay Ford?”
Christ. The full government name. I hadn’t heard anyone mention my middle name since Hayes let it slip last year when we went to Austin together. What the hell did this lady want?
“Careful with that middle name, please. I haven’t advertised that since it got out in fourth grade, and I got the shit kicked out of me on the playground. But, yes. I am. Who are you?”
“My name is Annabell Slater. I’m with Child Protective Services. May I come inside?”
Child Protective Services? What the hell was someone from there—someone with an infant in a car seat—doing on my doorstep?
“No children live here, Ms. Slater. I’m confused on why you would need to come inside.”
Her brows furrowed. “Mr. Ford. Are you acquainted with a Ms. Rosa Monaco?”
My mind went blank before flooding with images of that night out with my brother.
Fuck. The woman I slept with last year…the one night stand from Austin.
I’d made a mistake. Her name was Rosa. I fucking made a mistake, and buried that night down so deep because of the guilt I felt every time I looked at Birdie.
My eyes dropped to the baby in the car seat.
Bright blue eyes stared back at me. The same as my bright blue eyes.
“Yes.” My throat felt like it was swelling. I couldn’t breathe. “Is she okay?”
“Can I please come inside, Mr. Ford?”
“Beau. Mr. Ford is my dad. I’m just Beau.”
Her face softened. “Beau. Can I please come inside?”
Soft footsteps sounded behind me. “Hey,” Birdie greeted. “Is everything okay?”
Her eyes moved from me, to the woman, and then to the baby. “Oh my goodness, who do we have here?”
“Maybe it’s best if we talked in private?”
“This is my best friend.” The words squeaked past my scratchy throat. Jesus. Could you go into anaphylactic shock at the realization you had a fucking kid you knew nothing about? “She can stay.”
Ms. Slater nodded. I pointed to the sofa, walking to it on shaking legs. Birdie sat next to me, her eyes glued to the baby the entire time. This woman was about to tell me I was a dad. I could feel it in my bones.
“Beau, I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but Rosa passed away three days ago.”
“Rosa?” Birdie questioned. Fuck. Oh holy shit. My life was imploding in front of my very eyes. I’d fucked up and Birdie…God. This was going to hurt her. I was going to fucking hurt her.
My hand dragged across my face, the stubble of a beard I should have shaved days ago scratching against my calloused skin.
I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t feel anything.
Except shame, knowing I had to admit to something I wasn’t proud of.
“I slept with her when I went out to Austin for that rodeo weekend with Hayes, what? A year ago?”
“Juniper is four months old,” Ms. Slater announced. The timeline matched. And then it hit me. She’d said the baby’s name.
“Juniper…” I whispered. My heart squeezed. My daughter’s name was Juniper. Something kicked inside my chest, a weird tightness as I let the idea of having a daughter take root. But maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself.
“You’re named on her birth certificate as her father. It’s our first step when one biological parent, the primary caregiver, passes away, to locate the other biological parent.”
Birdie sucked in a sharp breath next to me, but I just nodded.
She had my eyes. Of course she was mine.
Ms. Slater worked on getting the straps of the car seat loosened while I turned to face Birdie.
All the color had drained from her face, and it wasn’t just exhaustion that lined her red-rimmed eyes.
“You’re a dad,” she whispered, and I nodded.
“I didn’t know. Can I hold her?” I croaked as the baby…Juniper…was freed from the seat.
“Of course.”
She fussed as Ms. Slater transferred her into my hold.
It should have been easy for my mind to deny it.
For the loudest part of my brain to lash out in denial.
But looking at her, looking at this little baby that fit perfectly into my arms and settled in my embrace, I knew there was no use denying it.
I’d been a dad for four months, and hadn’t even known it.
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
How will the news of Beau’s unexpected fatherhood shift his—and Birdie’s—whole world? Read their story in Sudden Summer, Book 2 in the Silver Ridge Ranch series!