Chapter 1 #2
flora seen through the expansive window walls. Outside, the Wyoming sky is periwinkle blue. It is the perfect evening for
a party, though the forecast calls for a chance of rain.
“You know,” Johanna begins in a conspiratorial voice, “I can tell you if you’re having a boy or a girl. No one else has to
know. It can be our little secret.” As always Johanna seems to be able to read her mind. It would be nice to know before everyone
else, to have a little piece of this day just for herself. But no, Wes wants to be surprised right along with their guests.
Wants their friends and colleagues to share in one of the happiest days of their lives. Wes does love a grand gesture—the
bigger the audience, the better.
“Well?” Johanna says, raising her eyebrows. “Do you want to know? It’s almost time.”
“No,” Madeline says, shaking her head. “If you tell me, it will be written all over my face. Everyone will know.”
“True,” Johanna agrees, sliding her arm through Madeline’s. “You’re a terrible liar.”
If only she knew, Madeline thinks.
Together they make their way down the steps, through the great room, and out the glass doors that lead to the terrace where
they are greeted by the smoky scent of barbecue. The same waitress that Madeline saw talking to Wes earlier approaches, holding
out a tray of steak tartare bites.
“No, thank you,” Madeline says, now too nervous to eat. This was the night. The night they will learn if they are having a
boy or a girl. Although Madeline doesn’t care either way, she knows this one little tidbit of information will make it all
the more real. The waitress turns to Johanna.
“Oh, no. I don’t eat meat,” Johanna says giving a little shudder.
The waitress lingers, and Madeline examines her face. She is beautiful, with large cat eyes that are a startling green against
her pale skin. And she is young. Younger than Madeline initially thought. Twenty-one if she’s a day.
“You look familiar,” Madeline says. “Have we met before?”
“Probably at another event,” the girl says. “I’ve worked for this caterer for about a year. Were you at the Whitneys’ anniversary
party in March?”
“Yes!” Madeline says, making the connection. “You were the bartender at that one.” She is about to ask her what she was talking
to Wes about earlier when the waitress turns to Johanna. “You’re a doula, right?” she asks shyly.
“Actually, I’m a midwife,” Johanna says.
“There’s a difference?” the young woman asks. Madeline reads her nametag. Mellie. She then zones out as Johanna goes into detail about how midwives can provide medical care during pregnancy, birth, and after, while doulas stick to information and emotional and physical support.
The back lawn has taken on the festive air of a carnival. The ceiling of the clear-top tent is festooned with pampas grass,
wildflowers, and Edison bulbs of various lengths. Dozens of linen-covered tables are set for the barbecue dinner that will
be served later. Picnic glam, the party planner called it.
The evening would begin with games that Alyssa has insisted will be a hoot: Name That Baby Song, Guess That Celebrity Baby,
Pacifier Hunt, and more. Madeline immediately nixed the How Big Is the Bump? game. There is no way in hell that she is letting
people guess the circumference of her belly. Still, Madeline knows a ridiculous amount of money is at stake in the pool that
includes the sex, length, weight, hair color, and God knows what else. Madeline also knows Alyssa has overplanned, that this
crowd will spend most of their time drinking the expensive alcohol and gossiping about the person just out of earshot.
After the fun and games, there will be the dinner consisting of shaved fennel and celery salad, ribs, barbecue-spiced hot-smoked
salmon, and grown-ups’ s’mores made with cinnamon graham crackers, milk chocolate ganache, candied pecans, sweet coconut,
and a topping of almond-scented toasted meringue. Madeline would have been happy with a plain old s’more, but Alyssa said
the guests would swoon over these, so she agreed.
Just before dusk, the guests will gather behind the long row of hay bales to watch the big reveal.
Waiters and waitresses will be standing by with flutes of champagne topped with either pink or blue cotton candy depending on whether the explosion shows they are having a boy or a girl.
Madeline, of course, will have sparkling cider.
Then comes the rodeo where some of Madeline’s students will show off their equestrian skills, and young men and women new to the rodeo circuit will try and catch eyes in hopes of landing a sponsor.
Then the guests will get their chance. Men and some of the women will drunkenly ride one of the more docile broncos while the crowd whoops and hollers.
Finally, Reba will take the outdoor stage that was erected for the event.
“I may have a new client,” Johanna says, pulling Madeline from her thoughts.
“She’s pregnant?” Madeline asks, looking at the young woman with new eyes. “No way.”
“Apparently she’s four months along,” Johanna says. “I’m going to meet with her later, get more info.”
“We hate her, right?” Madeline says. “I swear when I was at four months, none of my clothes fit me anymore.” A niggle of something
tugs at her. Why was a young, pregnant waitress talking to her husband? How does she even know who he is?
“You’re gorgeous,” Johanna assures her. “Hey, do you see Dalton?” she asks.
Madeline searches the crowd for Johanna’s husband in the sea of cowboy hats. “Not yet,” she says. “Didn’t you two drive over
together?”
“No, separate. He’s coming in from a job, and he’s pissed at me again.”
“Why?” Madeline asks, though she can guess why. Johanna and Dalton haven’t been getting along for a while now, and though
Johanna hasn’t come right out and said it, Madeline is beginning to wonder if there is someone else in the picture.
“Who knows?” Johanna says, rolling her eyes. “It’s always something. Hopefully I can avoid him for most of the night. I’m
not going to let him ruin your party. Hold on,” she says, pulling her phone from her pocket and glancing at the screen.
Just then, Alyssa comes bouncing up to them, clipboard in hand, a slightly harried expression on her face. “Madeline,” she
says, tucking a wayward strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I can’t seem to find Wes. Any idea where he might be?”
“Oh, I’m not sure,” Madeline says, scanning the yard. It’s hard to tell who’s who with the dozens of cowboy hats obscuring faces. “He has to be around here somewhere.”
Alyssa bites her lip. “I really don’t want to bother you with logistics. This is supposed to be your special night.”
“Excuse me, but I have to take this,” Johanna says abruptly, holding up her phone.
“Another mother-to-be?” Madeline asks.
“Always,” Johanna said with a little sigh. “I’m sure it’s nothing, only Braxton-Hicks. If I see Wes, I’ll tell him to come
find you.”
Madeline nods, well familiar with the pesky false contractions that she, too, has been experiencing. As Johanna rushes off
in search of a quiet spot for her phone call, Madeline turns back to Alyssa, who is intently studying the sky.
“Does it look like rain to you?” Alyssa asks. “The forecast now says we could get some rain right around sunset.”
Madeline follows Alyssa’s gaze. The sky is still cloudless and blue, though the sun is quickly losing its earlier ferocity.
“It looks fine to me,” Madeline says, her eyes trailing back to the waitress.
“I’ll keep an eye on it,” Alyssa says before scurrying away.
Madeline feels a sharp tug on her elbow, and she turns to find Dalton Monaghan. “Where’s Johanna?” he asks, bluntly.
“She had a phone call,” Madeline says, looking up at Johanna’s husband. Sweat beads from beneath his cowboy hat and rolls
down his temple. His shirt is damp with perspiration.
“With who?” Dalton demands, squeezing her arm more tightly.
“A client,” Madeline says. He stares down, scanning her face as if trying to figure out if she’s telling him the truth. “Dalton,
you’re hurting me,” Madeline says, trying to extract herself from his grip.
He quickly releases his grasp. “I’m sorry,” he says, not looking the least bit apologetic. “If you see her, tell her she needs to find me. It’s important.”
“I will,” Madeline says, rubbing her elbow as Dalton disappears into the crowd. There is something much more going on with
Johanna and her husband than her friend is letting on. The first chance she gets, Madeline is determined to get to the bottom
of it.
She continues to make the rounds, greeting guests and pausing to watch a group whooping and hollering around a woman dressed
in Levi’s and a bandeau handkerchief top riding the mechanical bull Wes arranged for.
“I think we should move things up and do the reveal now,” Alyssa says, coming toward her with a frown. “Then we can serve
dinner. If it starts to rain, we can move the concert to the barn.”
It seems like a lot of shuffling around to do, but nothing will dampen spirits like two hundred partygoers getting caught
in a downpour. “Sounds okay to me,” Madeline says. “I’ll find Wes while you corral everyone over to the meadow.” Before she
can change her mind, Madeline asks, “Do you know who that waitress is?” She nods in Mellie’s direction.
Alyssa peers through the crowd. “No idea. The caterer would know. Probably a college student trying to earn a few bucks. I’ll
meet you over by the hay bales in a few.”
Madeline nods as Alyssa rushes away. The waitress had to have been talking to Wes about something to do with the catering
arrangements. She is being silly. Overthinking things, like she usually does.
Butterflies swirl in Madeline’s stomach. This is it—they are about to learn the gender of this little creature inside her.
Will they have a little girl who has Madeline’s love for horses? Or will it be a little boy who has Wes’s dimpled cheeks and
stubborn streak?