Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gideon
I took the last turn to my dad’s house. The last time I’d been in town, I hadn’t seen him. I hadn’t seen Dad for over twenty-five years.
My stomach was twisted in one giant, convulsing knot.
It was mid-October and the green in the area had faded to brown. The grasses were brittle, and the short, bare mountains were the same color. The taller slopes were filled with dark green thanks to the trees dotting the sides. The pastures and fields between us and the horizon were empty of cattle. The dirt that had once been tilled with growing crops had long grown over.
Some of the fencing was new, with shiny wire and metal posts. Why bother when there were no cattle to contain?
As we drove, memories assaulted me. Mom, riding one of the many ranch horses her family had raised, carefree and laughing. She had a favorite, but she made sure we rode them all. She enjoyed having cattle and farming. She’d loved her life. All the way to the end.
Part of me was glad she hadn’t seen the accident coming. That she hadn’t known she’d be leaving me alone. That Dad would barely survive losing her. Knowing any of that would’ve broken her big heart.
I concentrated on loosening my grip on the steering wheel. The road wound closer to the house. I hadn’t visited Dad, but I’d been on the land. I’d taken a road that overlooked the house. And it’d pissed me off. The place wasn’t run down. He’d done some work on it and dammit—I’d been furious.
“Do you think he’ll be there?” Autumn asked.
I’d been so angry that he’d kept up the house enough to look decent and then sobered himself up enough to fucking sell it.
“Gideon?”
And then he had the audacity to tell me that he wouldn’t talk about the sale on the phone. I had to come home.
“Gideon.” A warm hand landed on my forearm and my rising anger dropped like a boulder in water.
My knuckles were white and the speed of the car was creeping up. It wouldn’t have mattered that her all-wheel drive handled nicely on the dirt road, I’d land us both in a ditch.
“Do you need a minute before we arrive?” she asked softly.
“No.” I wanted to see his face when I showed up with a Bailey bride talking about kids.
My gut heaved again. Kids. I wouldn’t think about it yet. How did Autumn know she could have them? How did I? I had enough on my mind. The idea of a baby I was responsible for would have to wait. I had time.
My determination to avoid the topic didn’t stop my dick from waking up and reminding me how kids were made. My cock wanted to berate me for not taking Autumn up on the sweetness she had offered last night.
I had never had a hard time being an honorable man until her. After watching her moan over my food this morning, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep from being rabid when I was in bed with her again.
How quickly I returned to my roots—wild and dirty.
I rounded a curve and the house came into view, dousing my libido. Mom had been so proud of this place. We’d gone from a small, manufactured home to a stick-built two-story ranch house with an attached two-car garage.
So much space, Giddy! Mom’s voice was clear as the summer Montana sky. I’d been six. We can even expand it. Maybe someday you’ll fill it with kids.
My heart twisted as hard as my stomach. Mom had wanted more kids, but she’d hemorrhaged during my birth and doctors had performed a hysterectomy.
I swallowed rising stomach acid. “Home sweet home,” I said bitterly.
“I’ve never been this far onto your land,” she said. The awe in her voice made me want to puff my damn chest. “I always thought your place was beautiful when we drove by the pastures.”
“He painted.” I could tell her everything about the buildings and land. I could tell her that there was an abandoned cabin in the foothills to the north where my grandparents’ ranch manager used to live. The old stable and shop were falling down, but a newer shop and barn stood a few hundred yards behind the house. Both had been built by Mom and Dad. The place had prospered after Mom had taken over. Those buildings now loomed isolated against the stark, brown landscape. As if all the life on this place had died with Mom.
I parked by an old, beat-up flatbed truck. The white paint on the front was covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt. I was tempted to turn around and leave. Tuck myself into Autumn’s small house and attempt to make babies.
Babies. I could fucking puke.
I didn’t have a weak stomach, and I wasn’t vomiting in front of my wife.
I opened the door and got out, taking a deep inhale before I realized I was sucking in all the fresh Montana air like I’d been suffocating for the last twenty-five years. Oxygen infused my veins. There was no smell of cigarettes or pot, no scent of exhaust or hot asphalt. I didn’t even smell dust. Just pure, fresh mountain air.
A door creaked open. “Giddy?”
I faced my dad, unprepared for the shock. He was older. But where he had once stooped with a permanent grimace on his face and lank, greasy hair, his fist shaking in the air at me while I drove off, he was now hale. He wasn’t hearty, but some of the muscle tone that had wasted away when he’d been in his darkest years had returned.
His hair was grayer and thinner but neatly trimmed, same with his salt-and-pepper beard. The mustache portion of his beard was thicker and in a horseshoe shape. His shoulders were rounded but no longer bowed, and his clothing looked clean. The worst shock was the clear gaze .
“Hank.” My voice wasn’t as strong as I’d intended.
He stepped out farther. The screen door slammed behind him. It’d be an easy fix. I’d helped him repair more than a few doors growing up.
A lump formed in my throat as memories rose from the depths of my brain. Usually, I thought about Mom when I recalled my time growing up. But this time, I could picture myself walking next to Dad as he talked about growing seasons, soil conditions, and moisture levels. I could see him next to me beside one of the tractors, handing me a tool and telling me to try it myself.
The back of my throat burned hot. I refused to recall those times. He’d ruined them all.
He’d ruined everything.
A warm hand slipped around the fingers I hadn’t realized I’d curled into a fist. Her cotton-candy scent blew across me, and she put her other hand on my forearm. “It’s okay,” she said under her breath.
Dad’s gaze fell to where she was touching me. Again I felt a resurgence of pride I usually only experienced when it came to my job. I stuffed the feeling down.
“Hank, this is Autumn James. My wife.”
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t played out how Dad would react. He’d yell at me like he used to do when he drank the hard stuff. When he had too much beer, he got loopy. He’d think he was charming. When he drank liquor, he turned mean.
Would he collapse from shock instead? Would he be so stunned he’d gape at me and then rage? He’d have to know I was doing this to stop the sale. The easiest part would be getting him to believe my intentions of wanting the family land to pass on to my own family. I didn’t have to believe it myself .
I didn’t know a damn thing about children.
Autumn’s hand tightened around mine. I might’ve squeezed back. I wasn’t paying attention to extremities or how her skin was impossibly softer than I could’ve imagined.
A wide grin broke out on Dad’s face, lifting the sides of his horseshoe mustache. “Hot damn, that’s wonderful news.” He charged down the porch stairs. When his boots hit the sandy path bordered by dry grass, he opened his arms wide. “Autumn James now, huh?”
“Yes, sir.” She crowded into my side, much closer than we had sat on the plane. Her body heat seeped into me, and I got a good feel of her curves from my arm down to my thigh. I could tuck her under me, but as Dad grew closer, she broke away.
I missed her touch instantly.
He encompassed her in his wiry arms. “Sir isn’t for family. Call me anything but sir or Mr. James.” He stood back. Lines flared from the corner of his eyes, carved deep into his skin, like one of Mom’s fans. “Congratulations.”
He stepped toward me, but I yanked Autumn back into my side. A clear “no hugging” signal, and maybe an excuse to have her close again. “You’re happy?” I sounded dismayed.
Was I?
He laughed. “Ecstatic.”
I’d worried about him buying the ruse. Was he delighted because he thought I wouldn’t be a pain in the ass anymore?
He clapped his hands together. “A celebration is in order.” My veins flooded with dread. He caught my alarmed expression and his smile dipped. “A meal,” he clarified.
“That’s not necessary,” I said at the same time Autumn said, “How wonderful.”
She wrapped an arm around my back and hugged me. Hard. “I’d be delighted to get to know you and tell you how your son swept me off my feet.”
“He takes after the old man.” Dad’s eyes twinkled. I wanted to be sick. Whenever the subject came close to Mom, he got melancholy. Then he’d drink until he blacked out.
Autumn giggled and rubbed my back like she could feel the tension vibrating through me. “I’m sure he does.”
Dad shook his head, grin back in place. “I jest. It was his mother who had to hit me over the head with a rock to get me to notice more than my own good time. But once I came around, she was the center of my world.”
My heart slipped and slid down into my gut. He was talking about Mom. And he was smiling.
Mom had chased him? I doubted it.
He used to surprise her with wildflowers and leave me with grandparents to take her on dates. He was always trying to woo her.
Memories of various bouquets over the years popped into my head, clear as a cloudless sky. I hadn’t thought about those since I was a kid. I used to tease Dad when he was stooped in a ditch, searching for the perfect cone flowers.
“We’ve still gotta spread the news,” I said abruptly. “We haven’t told her family.”
Dad’s bushy brows lifted high. “Oh my. There’s a story there. ”
Autumn patted my chest. “Vegas. What can I say? My friends and I stayed at the casino he works at and the rest is history.”
His grin remained in place. “When did this happen?”
Autumn stiffened. I was trying to figure out how best to answer, or if I should worry since Dad seemed fully on board, when she answered, “It’s our one-day anniversary.”
This time I got the satisfaction of his shock. When he slid his almost-knowing look my way, I wanted to pack up my wife and leave. “I don’t need to ponder good decisions,” I said almost defensively.
She tilted her face up toward me. Instead of wondering what kind of look she was giving me, I tightened my arm around her, dipped my head, and pressed a kiss to her mouth.
I caught her gasp and kept the kiss chaste when all I wanted to do was turn her fully into me and devour that sweet mouth. When I straightened, Dad was watching us, a wistful gleam in his eye that I immediately resented.
A small slice of empathy cut through the negative emotion. I’d been married a day, but Autumn was a real person. I knew she slept like she’d be out for days. I knew that her eyes rolled back when she liked the flavor of something. I knew she had a cat and a cozy house, the first place to make me think there really were homes out there where people could be happy. I knew she took the advice “dress for the job you want” seriously.
If something happened to her, I’d be sad. I’d mourn. Dad had lost his partner. The love of his life. But he’d also been a dad. And he’d failed me terribly.
“Tomorrow night, then?” He rubbed his hands together. His knuckles were knobbier than they used to be. His shoulders a little more stooped. But his eyes were clear. Bright and lucid. “Is that too soon?”
“Tomorrow.” Better to get it over with, but also, I had to know if Dad could maintain this version of himself for more than a day. Perhaps we’d caught him between binges. It had been years since he’d claimed to start his sobriety journey, but I had doubts. Many of them remained. It’d take more than a ten-minute chat to banish them.
He winked at me. “You gonna talk it over with your wife, Giddy?”
“Don’t call me Giddy, Hank,” I growled.
He laughed, oblivious to my hatred of Mom’s nickname out of his mouth. “Sorry, boy.”
I cringed harder. Boy. His rampages went through my head.
Autumn rubbed my back again.
“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Invite your family, Autumn.”
“Yes, of course.” She rested her hand between my shoulder blades. “I don’t want to come off as rude, but I want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. I have a big family. Just how many do you want to invite?”
“All of them.” He waved both hands in the air like he was shooing away a raccoon. “Don’t worry about space. I’ve got nothing to hide and it’s all going to be the Baileys’ soon.”
I jerked like his words were electricity. Wasn’t he starting to reconsider? I’d shown up with a wife. If this farce of a marriage didn’t work to win him over and get my mom’s land in my name, then I’d never forgive Dad. And there’d be nothing left in Bourbon Canyon that meant a damn thing to me.
Autumn’s gaze caressed over my face, and one simple question lingered in my head.
Are you sure there’d be nothing in this town that matters to you?
Autumn
As we were leaving the James ranch, my phone continued to buzz with messages from my friends checking on me. I kept telling them I was fine and that I was home already. Maybe they wanted to hear me say I forgave them, but my brain’s realty was taken up by the man next to me.
I was about to turn my phone off when it rang. Scarlett’s name popped up on the screen.
Shit.
Scarlett was Tate’s wife. She was a fourth-grade teacher at the elementary school, so my fellow travelers were also her friends and coworkers.
What had they told her?
Gideon glanced at me. My stomach did the same little wiggle it had the first time he’d gotten behind the wheel of my vehicle. I was a passenger princess, and it was a nice change.
“My sister-in-law,” I explained. The phone stopped, then started again. “Tate’s wife.”
His gaze went back to the road. “No time like the present. ”
“I have to invite them to dinner tomorrow, after all.” My chuckle was a nervous chime.
I hadn’t been too worried about telling the news to Hank James. He’d been nothing but friendly around town, and whenever I had seen him, he’d been helping at a fundraising benefit or with some other town project that needed an extra pair of hands. Hank James liked my family, and I’d expected him to worry more about his son’s intentions. He had to know I was not Gideon’s type.
It was my family that could tank everything.
I squared my shoulders. I was an adult, and I could make my own decisions. “Hello?”
“Oh my god, Autumn,” Scarlett said on a sigh of relief. “Everyone is so worried about you. Are you okay? Where are you?”
I wasn’t ready for any of her questions. I needed more time, but things were moving at lightning speed. “I’m in town, actually.”
Another relieved exhale. “You’re at your house?”
“We stopped in, but then we?—”
“We?”
“Yeah, um . . .”
“Did you come home early for Mark?”
I almost asked her who, but right. Mark. “No, not Mark.”
Gideon’s hands clenched the wheel. He did not like Mark. I couldn’t say I was bothered by his reaction after seeing Taya.
“Did you meet someone on your trip?” Her question was full of interest and concern.
“Yes, but he’s from here actually.”
“Autumn,” Tate broke in .
The acid in my stomach roiled. I wasn’t ready to face my family. “Am I on speaker?”
“You weren’t.” Scarlett’s tone was disgruntled. “My husband seems to have forgotten his manners.”
“Who is it?” Tate demanded.
My heart clawed into my throat. “Tate, listen?—”
“The girls told Scarlett you stayed at Silver. What were you thinking?”
The back of my neck grew hot. My brother was speaking loud enough for Gideon to hear. “That I don’t need your permission.”
“Who is it?”
My brother wasn’t a dumb man. He’d been in charge of Copper Summit until Daddy had gotten cancer and couldn’t run the Bourbon Canyon distillery or keep up with the ranch. Tate had left Copper Summit’s Bozeman distillery and taken over the ranch, but he still thought he was boss of everything, just like he had when my sisters and I had first arrived at the Baileys’.
“Tate—”
“Autumn, you’re stalling. I know I won’t like the answer. Tell me it’s a big damn coincidence, and you reconnected with a guy like Layton Kramer.”
“My senior prom date?” My volume pitched up. Gideon’s head snapped toward me, but he had to focus back on the road. When his gaze was off me, so was his heat, but I was hot enough with Tate’s interference. “He kissed another girl in the janitor’s closet while I was in the bathroom.”
Gideon’s knuckles turned white on the wheel. Was he annoyed with my story, that I was delaying, or was he righteously upset on behalf of an eighteen-year-old Autumn who’d thought Layton could’ve been the one ?
“You know what I mean,” Tate said.
I huffed out a breath. I was done with this conversation. “Well, I’m not telling you over the phone. Goodbye, Tate. Sorry, Scarlett.”
I hung up just as Scarlett’s “I’m so sorry” filtered through.
I puffed a hunk of hair out of my face. I stuffed my phone into the glove compartment.
“That wasn’t telling them,” Gideon said evenly. “But nice power move.”
I laughed, releasing anxious energy. Was I glowing too? Gideon had complimented me. Sure, it wasn’t my looks, but I’d take power move in a heartbeat. My brothers often saw that little girl still getting over the injuries she’d gotten in the accident that had claimed her parents’ lives. “Thanks. But be prepared for company when we get home.”
He slid his dark gaze in my direction again.
. . . when we get home.
I liked the way that sounded. Was he unnerved?
Several minutes later, we were walking into the house. I left my phone in the car.
I trudged to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
I glanced over my shoulder, but he was on his phone. So, not one of those innuendo answers. He was legitimately starving. For food.
How bad was it that I was jealous of the phone held loosely in his big hand while he rhythmically stroked the screen with his thumb?
I might have this man’s baby. Which meant we’d have to...
A shiver worked its way under my skin. I busied myself with looking in the freezer and the fridge. Gideon stayed where he was, his attention on his phone. I tried not to be disappointed. Maybe it was a good thing that I had regular reminders that this was the equivalent of a business deal.
Back to fixing an early dinner.
The trip had been three days, and I’d planned to get groceries on my way into town after the flight. That was before I’d gotten married and brought a man home.
I had hamburger. There was pasta in the cupboard. I could throw together?—
Someone pounded on the front door. Hard.
I whirled around. Smugness infused Gideon’s gaze and he tucked his phone into his back pocket. “Ready, wife ?”