Chapter 16
sixteen
Chance breathed in the scent of his coffee and sighed with pleasure. Now that his house stocked strictly decaf, morning coffee with his brothers was a lifeline.
Not even Holden’s presence in the kitchen could dampen his mood. Turned out that having a beautiful, charming, sexy woman waiting at home each night was good for him.
“You look happy,” Quint said. “Ruby told me what happened at Third Thursday. Is Cordy okay?”
“She is now that I talked to the Saxons and told them to cut that shit out.”
Not even Mrs. Saxon’s tears had held Chance back. He hadn’t been a huge dick about it, but he’d been clear. “Cordy has to be nice to you because of the baby,” he’d said. “She needs a good relationship with you, so she’ll pull her punches.” He’d stared right at Mr. Saxon. “But I don’t have to be nice or pull my punches. When I see someone treating Cordy wrong, I can step in and do whatever I need to stop it. And I will.”
His smile had held a warning. Things change now.
Mr. Saxon and Hailey had gotten the message. Bob had nodded—he wasn’t much of a talker anyway—and Hailey had said she would talk to Cordy later, smooth things over. Chance could only hope those two passed the message on to Janet, who hadn’t stopped crying.
Maybe it was cold of him, but she wasn’t Chance’s concern. Cordy was.
“Good,” Quint said. “Someone needed to tell them. Ruby says a bunch of people have already signed up for the meal train. You’re going to have enough food to last you a year.”
“I signed up,” Rye said. “I’m bringing hot dog casserole.”
Chance stared at his brother. “Seriously? What is that? It sounds like a nightmare.”
“Just kidding, I’m freezing some wild rice and mushroom soup.”
“When did you learn to make that?”
Rye blushed. Actually blushed. “Oh, recently.”
Chance stuck his tongue inside his cheek. Huh. Rye didn’t usually get embarrassed about anything. And he wasn’t one to go trying out new recipes. He might do most of the cooking, but his ingredient list started and stopped with hot dogs.
“Sounds good,” Chance said. “And speaking of Cordy delivering soon, I’ll need to talk to HR about my paternity leave. I’m taking at least six weeks, maybe more.”
Quint frowned at him over his mug. “Paternity leave? What the hell are you talking about? We don’t have any damn HR department, either.”
“Cordy’s going to need me at home once the baby comes. So I’m taking time off.”
Holden pinned Chance with a glare. “Thought it wasn’t your baby. You got all heated telling me that, swearing up and down, it wasn’t yours. But you’re taking care of it.”
“First of all, the baby is not an it . Second, no, the baby is not mine, but here’s the thing about babies—and children too—they need taking care of no matter who the father is. You might not know that.”
Holden didn’t even flinch because the bastard had no shame. “I know that, better than you. I just can’t figure out why you’re taking care of this woman and baby if they’re not yours.”
But they are mine. The thought jabbed into Chance’s brain.
He told himself it wasn’t true. He didn’t own Cordy and the baby—she was free to do whatever she wanted. He was only giving her a place to stay for a bit. Knowing how she’d grown up and lived until now, Cordy would move when the itch took her. She didn’t set down roots.
He told himself he understood even as his gut cramped. Imagining her and the baby out there, God knew where, all alone?—
Not my problem. Not once she leaves.
Chance shuffled in his chair, his heart going too fast. It wasn’t so strange, him stepping up. He’d done it before when Holden had disappeared into the bottle. Things needed doing, Lane and Rye needed taking care of, so Chance and Quint had stepped in to do it.
What would his father do if Chance pointed that out?
Probably blink and look blank, like he had no idea what Chance was talking about.
“I’m helping because she needs it,” Chance said.
Holden only grunted.
“Look, if the kid were mine, I’d admit it. I clean up my messes.”
Actually, he tried never to make them in the first place.
Quint shook his head. “It’s enough, both of you. Sure, take some time off. Does it have to be six weeks, though? I don’t know if we can manage without you that long.”
“We could hire on Ben for a few weeks. I know he’s looking to make some money.” Ben was a 4-H kid in his senior year who was always looking for odd jobs. He liked to buy his girlfriend expensive presents.
“Royal and Stirling will help too,” Rye said. “If we ask.”
Those two were a couple of their Younger cousins from the Hard Fork Ranch in the valley a few hills over. In fact, any of their Younger cousins would help for at least a few weeks.
“Good idea.” Chance pointed with his mug at Quint. “Would that be enough? I’ll pay Ben myself.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Quint took a long sip of his coffee. “Those guys should be enough to pick up the slack. But if you could come back earlier…”
“It depends on what Cordy wants. But I think these people exaggerate when they say babies take so much work. All they do is sleep and eat. It’s not like they can move around and get into things.”
“Yeah, but they don’t sleep more than two hours or so. Which means you won’t sleep more than two hours or so.”
Chance shrugged. “We’ll take shifts. I’m used to getting no sleep during calving season. It can’t be that bad.”
“I’ve heard it’s real bad.” Rye’s tone was serious. “Chels Tyler said it was like being tortured.”
Tortured? Chance jiggled his leg. “The labor teacher said it might not be that bad. She told us not to be scared.”
“Why would you be scared?” Quint asked baldly. “It’s not you having the baby.”
Chance wasn’t frightened for himself; he was afraid for Cordy. If anything happened to her… Ms. Reston might talk about how ninety-nine point nine percent of labors went just fine, but Chance had done some of his own research on the internet and what he’d seen… Well, sometimes things went wrong. And they could go really wrong.
The baby could die. Cordy could die.
Whenever Chance’s mind brought those possibilities up, he felt like he was staring into a pit, searching for the bottom and never finding it, the edge crumbling under his feet. He had to mentally scramble back because if he kept staring into it…
“Things will be fine,” he said firmly. “Cordy is more than ready for this baby, and she’ll do great. But she’s going to need help. And I’ve got to be there for her.”
“Are you in love with her?” Rye asked quietly.
What the hell?
Chance’s instinct was to say no. He wasn’t losing his mind over her. He woke up every day and did his work, came home and took care of her—normal things. A Kessal in love was a madman. He wouldn’t be sitting here calmly discussing paternity leave while privately trying not to think about his woman dying in childbirth.
A cold sweat broke out across his back. Being worried for Cordy wasn’t the same as being in love with her.
He looked at Quint. “I’d know right away, wouldn’t I? It’d hit like… like lightning. Or an earthquake.”
Quint shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. When I knew about Ruby, it was more… deep. And quiet. Like she opened up my chest, climbed inside, and shut my ribs behind her. But all without a sound.”
Chance rubbed his chest. Okay, it was a little achy, but again, that could be from the worry. Same kind of worry he’d have over any of his friends facing a major medical event.
“I don’t think it’s like that.”
“Well,” Rye said in his quiet way, “it can be a thunderclap too.”
Chance frowned at him. “Who are you in love with?”
Rye’s cheeks colored. Chance wondered if it had something to do with Rye’s sudden interest in wild rice and mushroom soup.
“Let him alone,” Quint said gruffly. “We’re talking about you.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m not in love,” Chance said. “But I’m not so sure about Rye. He’s awful red. And how does he know about the thunderclap?”
Chance studied Rye’s face as if his brother’s expression alone might tell him. There was definitely something going on, but Chance couldn’t pin it down.
As far as Chance knew, Rye hadn’t dated much since he’d left high school. So, who was Rye going out with? Or who did he want to go out with?
“Wait,” Quint said, “how do you know about the thunderclap?”
“Yeah,” Rye said.
Both his brothers stared at Chance accusingly. Chance suspected Rye was joining to get the heat off himself.
“I don’t know anything about it,” Chance said. “I was just repeating what Rye said.”
Holden cleared his throat. He’d been so quiet, Chance had almost forgotten he was there.
“When I met your mother,” he said, “I didn’t like her.”
“You were both ten,” Quint said. “If I’d met Ruby when I was ten, I would have been too dumb and young to realize what she was to me, too.”
“My point was,” Holden said, “was that sometimes it takes time. It can be a thunderbolt, it can be quiet, it can be right away, and it can take time. But when it happens, you’ll know.”
Chance rubbed his chest as he pondered that. Yeah, he missed Cordy when she wasn’t with him, worried about her too—it seemed like he never stopped worrying these days—but it didn’t feel like knowing.
He wasn’t going to howl at the moon with love for her or build a second porch or buy a zebra. Chance was only going to help Cordy have a baby.
“I’m fine,” he said confidently. “I’m definitely not in love with her.”
And everything would be just fine when she eventually left. She certainly wouldn’t be taking his heart with her.
Cordy wasn’t used to being this bored.
She’d had her last official shift at the Swing Inn four days ago. Without a job, she had nothing to do. Chance had put together the crib, so she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t babyproof, since she wouldn’t be here that long. And when she tried to look for another apartment, she just… lost interest. It felt like homework, and she’d never been good at school.
Chance told her to rest every morning when he left, but that was impossible. Cordy wasn’t a resting kind of girl.
She needed something to do. She’d already walked Iggy this morning, and when she went to grab the leash for another outing, the poor dog had groaned and hid under her bed. Iggy was done .
Cordy supposed she could go for a walk on her own, organize the nursery again, read a book, or even visit Holden—actually, she wouldn’t do that because it would upset Chance—but she didn’t want to do any of those things.
She wanted some human contact, which was exactly what her job had used to provide.
A thought hit her. Maybe… maybe she could go to the Donut Palace and… hang out. In the Parents’ Corner like she’d been imagining. Yeah, she could try that. What was the worst that would happen? The other moms wouldn’t talk to her? After what had happened at Third Thursday, that didn’t scare her.
Quickly, she texted Chance to tell him where she was going. Otherwise, he would completely freak out if he came home and she was gone.
He treated her like a princess—or maybe a queen—because he did everything for her and never asked anything for himself. She still hadn’t seen him without his clothes, and it was starting to irritate her. Being worshiped had been nice, but now…
Don’t say you want more. You can’t have it, and you know it.
Chance texted her back in record time, the way he always did. She never got left on Read with him. Have fun, be careful. Then, two seconds later, Do you want me to drive you? It’d be safer.
That was his latest thing—she shouldn’t be driving. As if when she went into labor, she’d spontaneously explode behind the wheel. Cordy tried not to roll her eyes when he brought it up.
I’ll be fine , she wrote back. It’s the middle of the day, don’t you need to work?
I can drive you.
Cordy rolled her eyes. No, I’m driving myself. I’ll be back before dinner.
Okay, Chance replied. Can you grab some sourdough? We’re low on sandwich bread.
That made her stop and catch her breath. It was so ordinary, the kind of thing a husband would send to his wife…
She put a hand to her mouth. It was simple, but intimate. They were falling into something, but what? Friendship? It was like no friendship she’d ever had, but it wasn’t like she was good at friendship anyway.
Love? Chance had warned her about that, and he didn’t seem out of his mind to her. So, if it was, the feeling was all on her side.
Or maybe you’re hormonal. That was another excellent possibility. Emotions tended to swamp her these days. Chance had fed Iggy some bacon the other day when he thought Cordy wasn’t looking, then rubbed the dog’s ears, and she’d started bawling.
That had to be it. Simple hormones making her feel too much over things that weren’t that important.
Sure, she sent back, then put the phone away before Chance could make her feel anything more.
The moment she pulled into the Donut Palace parking lot, her resolve shrank. She’d planned to sit in the Parents’ Corner and enjoy a strawberry shortcake donut. But suddenly, she wanted to turn around and go home.
Cordy laughed bitterly at herself as she played with the car keys. She’d move halfway across the world in a blink and without a plan, but she couldn’t summon the nerve to walk into a donut shop she’d been in a hundred times before.
“Stop being a coward.”
To steel her courage, she remembered everyone crowding around her to give her love and support at Third Thursday. Chance lifting her into his arms, making her feel safe.
At the very least, she had to get him some sourdough. She’d promised.
The bell over the door seemed louder than usual as it announced her arrival. But Liberty’s welcoming smile was warm as always.
Today, Liberty had her hair pulled back in two long braids and winged eyeliner that she’d drawn on with laser precision. Cordy was tempted to ask how she’d done it.
“A strawberry shortcake?” Liberty asked. “And I’ve got a fresh pot of decaf going if you’d like.”
“I’d love that, thank you. And I need some sourdough. The sandwich loaf.”
“I’ll get those for you right away.” One corner of Liberty’s mouth ticked up like she knew a secret. “I signed up for the meal train.”
“Well, if you’re bringing donuts, I can’t refuse those.”
Liberty’s mouth fell. “No, I was… I was going to bring something else. But I can bring donuts if you want.”
“Whatever you want to bring is fine. We’ll be happy with anything.” Cordy meant the donut line as a joke, but she could see how it might be rude, expecting Liberty to bring donuts. “Or you can just come hold the baby. I’m worried we might have too much food.”
“Most people will bring things you can freeze.” Liberty handed Cordy the bag with her donuts. “Some people treat it like a competition. They won’t tell you directly, but they’ll be waiting to hear what you liked best so they can crow about it.” Her gaze flicked to a cluster of older women at one of the booths. She dropped her voice. “Like those ladies.”
“Oh.” Cordy clutched the bag to her chest. She hadn’t realized there was a whole thing surrounding the meal train. “I’ll praise everyone’s meals then. Actually, will I get a list of everyone who signed up? I’ll want to send thank you notes, but I think things might be a little crazy after the baby comes.” She smiled crookedly. “I’m not sure, though, because I’ve never done this before.”
Liberty handed over the sourdough. “Yeah, me neither. But you know who can help you?” She nodded to the Parents’ Corner.
There was the sign from the universe: Cordy had to take her place among the other moms. Or at least try to.
Chelsea Tyler was sitting there, along with Helena Hansen, with several toddlers and babies surrounding them.
“Cordy!” Chelsea sounded genuinely happy. “How are you?” She scooted over on the couch and patted the space next to her. “We’ll tell you all about the meal train. Is there anything else you need?”
Cordy sat down, trying to look relaxed despite her heart going a mile a minute. She was doing it—she was sitting down in the Parents’ Corner.
“I don’t need anything,” she said. “I think we’re set.”
“Are you sure?” Helena asked. “I added stuff to my registry until the last minute, and even then, there were things I forgot.”
Oh, the dreaded registry. Cordy learned her lesson about admitting she didn’t have one with Jaycee. “Nope, we’re good. Chance assembled the crib the other day, so the nursery is all set up.”
Two pairs of eyebrows shot up.
“ Chance Kessal built your crib?” Chelsea made it sound like he didn’t have opposable thumbs or something.
Helena shook her head. “I never thought I would see the day.”
“No one in this town did,” Chelsea said. She leaned forward. “How did you do it?”
“We’re just friends.” Cordy prayed her expression wasn’t betraying her because what they’d done last night had been a lot more than friendly. “Chance is a great guy.”
Chelsea snorted. “We all heard what happened at Third Thursday,” Chelsea said. “Dakota told me all about it.”
At the mention of Dakota, Cordy’s interest pricked up. “Um, she did? She talked to Chance for a while.”
She tried to encourage Chelsea to go on but didn’t want to sound like she was prying. Even though she wanted to pry very badly.
“Oh, Dakota is a whole other can of worms.” Helena waved her hand. “But we’re talking about your can of worms right now. I heard Chance the fireman carried you out after he told off your terrible mother-in-law.”
Chelsea raised an eyebrow. “Is this what you heard or what you wish your husband would do?” She busted up laughing when Cordy’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously, how are you doing? How many weeks do you have left?”
Cordy forced herself to inhale as she cradled her bump. “I’m doing fine. A little more tired but more… restless, too. And I’ve got six days.”
“Days?” Helena threw up her hands. “I could barely get out of bed when I had two weeks to go.”
“I got the restless thing,” Chelsea said. “I was deep cleaning the dishwasher for the second time in a week when I went into labor.”
“How was it?” Cordy asked in a hushed whisper. “Like, really? Because some people say it will be fine, and others have horror stories, and I’m not sure… I’m not sure what’s going to happen.”
As that came out in a rush, Cordy realized she wished she could have said all that to her mother. What was my birth like? Will I be okay? Can you be here with me?
But Mom was somewhere in Mongolia, and Dad hadn’t even been at Cordy’s birth.
Helena looked Cordy dead in the eye and said, “I pushed four hours with this one.” She held up the baby between them.
Cordy’s mouth went dry. That was a big baby. And four hours sounded… well, it didn’t sound survivable, to be honest.
“Every birth is different.” Chelsea shot a warning glance at Helena. “We can tell you what ours were like?—”
“And we will,” Helena cut in, “because we love telling our war stories.”
“—but that doesn’t mean your labor will be anything like ours,” Chelsea finished.
“It’s not the labor you should be worried about,” Helena said. “It’s the newborn phase.”
Chelsea put her hand on Cordy’s arm. “I don’t want to overstep, but will you have someone with you when you go into labor? Or with you afterward?” She squeezed Cordy’s forearm. “Since you and Chance are only roommates and all.”
Cordy and Chance hadn’t discussed that. He’d said at their last class that he would be there, and she assumed he meant the birth. She’d been so relieved she hadn’t pushed it.
Her face must have given her away because Chelsea said gently, “If you want someone there, let us know. We probably can’t be there the entire time, but we can take shifts. Pretty much every mom in this town would help you.”
Cordy’s heart strained like it was lifting too big a load. It pushed and pushed, struggling with what Chelsea had offered her.
“Thank you,” she said huskily. She cleared the lump in her throat. “I appreciate it, and I will reach out to you. I promise.”
“When we bring you food, we’re going to clean the house,” Chelsea said. “So don’t even try to stop us.”
“Laundry, too,” Helena said.
Cordy hadn’t had someone do laundry for her since she was ten. It sounded… nice .
The doorbell chimed again. Cordy didn’t bother to look at who came in, but when Chelsea’s eyes went wide in shock, Cordy turned.
There was Hailey, standing stock still in the doorway.