32 #2
It all started after our mother left. That reckless search for something she hasn’t yet found.
I don’t want this for her.
But she wants it.
“I have a secret,” I say and bite my lip. “I found Mom.”
Surprised, she blinks at me. “Where?”
“Vegas. She’s a dealer at a shitty casino off the strip. At least she was three years ago.”
Fallon picks at her label, her eyes on the chipped wood of the picnic table. “Did she—did she ask about me, or anything?”
I debate lying to her. Then, my heart aching, I say, “No. I’m so sorry, Fallon, she didn’t.” I reach out and squeeze her hand. “She barely knew who I was.”
Fallon nods, then takes a long hit of her beer. Her fierce hazel eyes shimmer with anger and sadness.
“I want you to know I’m staying in Resurrection.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want you to stay for me.”
“I’m not. You can leave because I’ll be here.
I want The Corner Store,” I announce and she looks up in surprise.
“I want to turn it into a bakery. I want to call it the Huckleberry. We’ll be that one shop—a destination.
But not just for tourists, for our town.
The best bake shop. We’ll be open from five a.m. to noon.
I’ll have the best lemon bars this side of the Mississippi, and when the rodeo comes to town, I’ll have a booth.
And I’ll serve hand pies and make everyone pitch in, even you, when you’re in town. Except in the summer.”
“What happens in the summer?” she murmurs. Fallon has her eyes closed, lulled by my rambling fantasy.
I smile. “In the summer, we’ll sell soft-serve ice cream and stay open past nine p.m.”
“Hmmm,” Fallon says, cracking an eye to look at me. “That’s the dream.”
“That’s the moon.”
We both turn toward the setting sun. I lean back, warmed by its rays, thankful for this time with my sister. I feel breathless, victorious. I’m safe here. I belong here.
And I’m happy here.
“I’ll talk to Dad,” I say, looking over at her.
“We both will,” Fallon says, giving me a rare smile.
“I missed this.” I can’t stop the rock lodging itself in my throat. “I missed you. And I’m proud of you. I don’t want you to do this, but I understand why you will.”
“You’re sappy when you’re pregnant.”
“Deal with it.”
Fallon considers me. “Be real or bullshit, right?”
I laugh through my tears. “Right.”
“Then…” Exhaling, Fallon slugs down the last of her beer and sets it down.
“You are my best and first friend, Dakota,” she says, looking straight into the sun like she’s willing it to blind her so she doesn’t cry.
“You are my absolute heroine. My big sister. My Calamity Jane. And I’m proud as hell of you for burning your entire life down and coming back.
” Fallon smiles. A brilliant, beautiful smile that lights up her face.
“Our mom couldn’t mom…but you will. You’re gonna have a kid and be the best mother that’s ever fucking lived. ”
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, turning my teary gaze to the sunset. “I damn sure will.”
I dip a spoon into the cream cheese frosting and taste it. It’s bright and sweet, like the first bloom of good love. Setting the frosting aside, I wrap the cake halves in plastic wrap to keep in the fridge until Ruby’s party this weekend.
I hum along to the Eagles as I move back and forth between the fridge and counter. With each sway of my movement, Squish kicks. “You and me, huh?” I smile and caress a hand over my stomach. “We got this. Don’t we, Squish?”
Outside the windows, the evening light is a dusky hint of purple as it settles over the ranch. Tomorrow’s May, and in eight more weeks, my son will be here.
A shadow in my periphery has me freezing, but my heart rate stays calm. I feel his steady presence and I turn.
Davis stands in the kitchen, sweaty and dusty from ranch work. That blue T-shirt I’ve come to love is stretched tight over those bulky biceps. Keena skitters beside him, her expression wary as she regards me.
Stepping around the island, I hold out a hand to her. “Hey, girl.”
Keena whines and leaves the kitchen.
I arch a brow. “Still chopped liver.”
Davis chuckles. “She’ll get there.”
I lift the spatula in greeting. “How goes the ranch?”
“Ranch is good. Finished getting the summer pasture ready. All that’s left before we open is redoing the sign.” He strides toward me, a force of rippling muscles. “Hi,” he says, pulling me in for a kiss, one big hand cradling my belly.
“Hi.” I press a kiss to his warm mouth, his whiskered jaw.
He drops his forehead to mine. “You happy?”
I squeeze him around the waist. “Uh-huh.”
Davis stares at me. With a bemused grin on his face, he taps the smile on my lips. “Who did this?”
“Fallon.”
He arches a brow. “That’s new.”
“We talked. Had words.”
“Dakota,” he growls.
“First…the good.” After drying off my hands, I reach into my purse and pull out the check from the insurance company. I exhale and slap it on the counter. “I got my claim from the fire. I’m going to buy The Corner Store.”
“Okay,” Davis says slowly. Thoughtfully.
“And I’m going to turn it into a bakery.”
He looks me in the eyes. “Tell me what you need.”
This man. This beautiful man.
“Nothing. I am going to live and bake and be happy.” I wiggle my brows. “You want to do it with me?”
His gaze darkens. “Every goddamn day.”
“I’ll talk to my dad soon…and I’ll do it. I did it before, and I can do it again.”
“You can.”
I hold out the spatula. “Taste.”
He does, satisfaction in his expression. “It’s outstanding.”
“Now…the bad.” I cover the bowl of frosting and head for the fridge. Davis moves, following me. I stare into the fluorescent light of the fridge and say, “Fallon’s riding bulls.”
“Christ.”
“She’s all banged up. Black and blue.” I shut the fridge and turn toward him. He looks none too happy. “I’m worried, Davis. She’s working with Pappy Starr, and I don’t think he has her best interests at heart.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll talk to her.” The way he looks out for my little sister like one of his own warms my heart.
“You won’t sway her,” I tell him. “I tried but…”
“What is it with you McGraw women?” He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “When you don’t listen, you argue.”
“Stubborn.”
“I’ll still talk to her.”
“Talk,” I order. “Not boss.”
“Fine,” he says, but a grin tilts his lips.
Before I can get back to my work, he snags my arm and pulls me back against him. “How’s Squish?”
The raw husk of his voice scrapes along my spine, warming my core.
“Squish is good.”
Davis puts a massive hand on my belly, applying light pressure to move the baby’s feet out of my rib cage. Squish likes Davis’s broad palm on my belly and his rough rumble of a voice.
My baby has some of the best sense I’ve ever known.
I sigh, tilt my head back against his chest. “You’re so good with him.”
He smiles. “You want to put me to work?”
“Nope.” I turn to face him. “I’m done. Just need to frost and assemble it the day of. Besides, you’re one of the worst sous-chefs I’ve ever had.” I pinch his ass and laugh. “But you’re sexy as hell in these Wranglers, Davis Montgomery.”
His eyes flare. “I like this. You, here with me.”
I nuzzle against his throat. “The baby’s coming,” I whisper. “There’s so much to do. I don’t even have a crib for him.”
He makes a growl of disgruntlement in his throat. Tightens his arms around me. “I know.”
“Are you sure?” Hand on his chest, I look up into his eyes. “About us?”
“I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” A haggard breath shakes out of his tall frame. “I can’t move slow anymore. Not with you. We’ll get you a nursery. Get you everything our son needs.”
Our son.
My eyes fill with tears. “I get to love you,” I say breathlessly. “And that’s all I need.”
I kiss him in that kitchen filled with hope and sunlight and love.
And at least for now, it’s all perfect.