The Marine's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek Book 3) (22 page)

“I don’t think you can ride in that skirt, Mom,” Storm said. “Why don’t you run and change. Do you have some pants?”

“Yoga pants,” Cheyenne said.

“They’ll do,” Zane said, not wanting to lose momentum. Cheyenne turned for the house, the two littlest girls following her.

“What about you, Storm?” Zoe said. “Did you learn how to ride already?”

“No. I don’t think—”

“You have to! You can’t be the only one who doesn’t know how.”

Zane thanked Zoe silently for doing the job of asking Storm for him. After their first lesson, they’d never quite gotten around to it again.

“The horse is probably getting tired.”

“Are you crazy? Look at him. He wants you to ride him. He’ll be so sad if you don’t,” Zoe pleaded with her.

Zane considered turning a puppy dog expression on Storm like Zoe had fixed her with, but on second thought decided he wasn’t half so cute and probably couldn’t pull it off.

“Oh, fine. Fine. You win!”

Zane wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or Zoe. He didn’t care. He’d gotten what he’d wanted—another chance to show her how wonderful his world was.

Storm approached the
tall beast with apprehension. Her last lesson felt like a long time ago now, and Zane had ridden behind her for most of it. Zane helped her on, while Austin steadied Jasper and soon she was just as exhilarated as she’d been the first time.

“It’s a gratifying thing to work with an animal,” Zane said, catching her eye. “It’s pretty special. I think we lost something when we switched to cars. Gained a lot, too, of course.”

“Of course.” But she knew what he meant. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to harness up a horse each time she went to town. To interact with living creatures each time she needed a ride. Would it make her feel more connected in some way to the natural world?

“Looking good,” Cheyenne called out from the fence.

“I guess it’s my mom’s turn.” She sounded wistful even to her own ears.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you more lessons any time you want one. Pretty soon you’ll be an expert at it.”

She found herself smiling back at the handsome cowboy, and when he lifted her down, she was all too aware of him—his muscular arms, broad chest and powerful shoulders. He held her a moment longer than necessary once her feet touched solid ground. Could he tell she wished he would kiss her?

His hands tightened on her waist and he bent down to brush his lips over hers. It was too brief for her to hold onto the sensation but she tried to anyhow. She wanted to hold onto everything that happened to her these days. She was so afraid her time here at Crescent Hall was running out, despite the promises they’d made to each other.

“Oooh, Zane and Storm are kissing!” Zoe crowed from the fence.

“Zane and Storm are allowed to kiss. They’ll be husband and wife soon,” Cheyenne said.

Husband and wife. If only she was right. Her first marriage to Zane meant nothing in the eyes of the law, and they didn’t know if they’d be able to marry a second time before Heloise’s deadline was up. For that to happen, Kenna was going to have to cooperate, and who even knew where Kenna was now?

Zane’s hands tightened on her waist. “We’ll figure it out,” he said in a low tone.

“Promise?” She leaned against him, basking in his strength and solidity.

“I promise.”

“Hi, Zane!”

Zane turned around at Richard’s greeting to find that his nephew had climbed up on the fence a few feet away from Zoe. “Hi, Richard. Good to see you. Come to get a riding lesson?”

“I already know how to ride.” His nephew’s disgust was plain.

“Just teasing.” Zane exchanged a good-natured grin with the boy. “Have you met our guests?”

Richard shook his head.

“This is Cheyenne Willow, Storm’s mother.”

Cheyenne looked askance at Richard. “I guess that makes you my grand-nephew. Don’t you dare call me Great Aunt Cheyenne, though. You can call me Auntie, or just plain Cheyenne.”

“Why don’t you want to be called Great?”

Cheyenne shuddered theatrically. “I’m not nearly old enough to be called that. Storm, tell him.”

“Call her Great Aunt just to make her mad,” Storm advised him.

Richard cocked his head. “I’ll call you Auntie.” His gaze turned to the three girls.

“These are my sisters, Zoe, Violet and Daisy.” Storm pointed at each one in turn.

“Hi.” Now Richard seemed shy, but Zoe was anything but.

“Hi! I like your boots. Are you good at riding? I just rode for the first time.”

Zane liked the way Richard sat up a little taller. “I’ve been riding for years.”

“Cool. How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

“I’m eleven.” Zoe beamed at him. “Can you show us the ranch?”

Violet hopped off the fence. “I want to see the creek.”

Richard looked to him for permission.

“Sure, take them to the creek,” Zane said, “but everyone needs to stay back from the water’s edge. It’s too cold for swimming. You older ones watch the younger ones.”

“I’ll keep them safe,” Richard said, already leading the way.

“You’re twice as tall as me,” Violet was saying when they reached the track to the creek. All the adults laughed.

“She’s right. You grow them tall around here,” Cheyenne said.

“That’s the Hall genes. Well, Cheyenne, you ready for your ride?”

“You bet.”

“The girls sure
do love it here.”

Storm looked up from reading the manual that had come with her new cash register at the shop a week later to find Cheyenne had come in without her even hearing her. “I left them on the ranch with Zane and Richard. Another riding lesson,” Cheyenne explained.

Storm nodded and lifted a hand to her temple. She hadn’t felt right since she’d gotten up this morning, but she hated to take even a day off from prepping the store. “They can’t get enough of those riding lessons.” The girls’ enthusiasm had spurred Storm to take it more seriously than she would have if they hadn’t been here. It tickled her to find out that sibling rivalry was alive and well between them. The thought that her younger sisters might outstrip her at riding made her a strong student, and Zane had noticed that. He had teased her about it the night before when they met in their room before dinner, but kissed her to show that he didn’t really mean it. Storm had enjoyed that kiss as much as all the others. Cheyenne and the girls had all settled in as if they’d always lived here. Storm was beginning to feel that way herself. She could predict the patterns and whereabouts of everyone in the family, and she’d grown accustomed to all the new sounds and smells of the ranch so that she hardly noticed them anymore.

“They love more than the horses,” Cheyenne said. “They love the company.”

“You mean Richard?”

“Richard is only part of it.” Cheyenne moved around the empty store. The back room was piled with merchandise and metal racks. Storm had decided that the renovation trumped everything else that needed to be done with the store. “I think they love having all those men around. Zane, Austin, Mason—they love the security and the playfulness.”

Storm thought that over. She recalled Zane’s careful coaching of the girls when they rode. She thought about the way Mason and Regan cracked jokes throughout the meals until the girls couldn’t eat for their giggling. Austin had been more than happy to race against Zane on the obstacle course again and again and again so the girls could time them with a stopwatch.

The men did all kinds of things that she and her mother had never thought to do with the girls. They roughhoused and pretend-wrestled. They taught them how to throw a baseball and got up impromptu games of soccer in the wide backyard. They’d even taken them fishing.

Zoe, Violet and Daisy were going to miss all of that when they went home. Storm would miss them, too. She’d come to love the noisy meals and the easy camaraderie among all of them. She couldn’t bear the thought that if Kenna refused to divorce Zane, they all might have to leave Crescent Hall.

She shivered against a sudden wash of cold down her spine. For some reason she hadn’t been able to get warm all morning. “How was your date last night?” she asked.

“Fun.” Her mother smiled. “We went dancing again.”

“Since when do you know how to dance to country music?” Maybe she should just give up and go home now, but she’d wanted to get the cash register working today. She should put in another hour.

Cheyenne shrugged. “Dancing is dancing. Especially with a handsome man.”

Storm peered at her mother. “Are you falling in love with that cowboy?”

Cheyenne turned away. “Love seems like too strong a word. I certainly like him a lot, though.”

But Storm knew her mother too well to buy that. “You
are
falling in love with him. Mom!”

“I didn’t plan it.” Cheyenne lifted her hands helplessly. “Me and a cowboy? It’s ridiculous.”

A wave of vertigo rolled through Storm and she gripped the counter to keep her balance. She wasn’t going to get the register running at this rate. Time to call it a day and go home and rest. “It’s not ridiculous. It’s just… inconvenient. Does he know you’ll be heading back home at some point?” She closed the manual and put it underneath the counter.

“He knows I live in California, yes. But—” She hesitated a moment. “I’m beginning to think that maybe I should stay in Chance Creek. The girls hate to be separated from you,” she went on in a rush before Storm could speak, “and so do I.”

“We might not be staying here all that long if Zane can’t get his marriage to Kenna annulled.”

“Even if Heloise kicks you all off the ranch, which I can’t believe she’d do,” Cheyenne said, “would you leave the area? Seems to me everyone loves it here. There must be other ranches.”

“You know the cost of things. Even pooling everyone’s money together, I don’t think we could buy anything like Crescent Hall.”

“Maybe you could if your mother kicked in the proceeds from selling her ridiculously priced beach house,” Cheyenne mused.

Storm could only stare at her. “Mom?”

“I got an offer this morning. Two point five million. After paying the balance of the mortgage, that’s still well over a million dollars left. My accountant says I have to sink it into something or I’ll lose too much to capital gains!”

“You’d buy a ranch—for me?”

“And for me, and for your sisters and the rest of those hangers-on you’ve accumulated.” Cheyenne waved a hand to include everyone on the ranch.

Tears pricked Storm’s eyes. She’d never expected Cheyenne to do such a thing.

“Hey, none of that. I’m trying to make you happy!”

“I am happy! Are you sure, Mom? You love that house.”

“No. I loved Mitch and the fact he gave it to me. I love you, too, and Zoe and Daisy and Violet, and you’re the ones that need a real home. I think we’ve found that here, if you don’t mind your cranky old mother living in a little cabin on the far corner of the property. Don’t want to cramp your style.”

“As if you could.” Storm threw her arms around her mother, and danced her around the room.

“Come on, let’s celebrate. I’ll call Hank and tell him to meet us at Fila’s in fifteen minutes. I want a big bowl of curry and some naan.”

The mention of food—spicy foreign food, at that—pushed Storm over the edge. Clapping a hand to her mouth, she raced for the bathroom and got there just in time. She was sick until her throat felt raw.

“Storm? Are you all right?”

“Ugh, I feel awful. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Flushing the toilet she washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face. At least she was feeling a little better now.

“Really? You don’t know what’s wrong?” Cheyenne asked, arching an eyebrow. “Could it possibly be you’ve been having too much fun with your own cowboy?”

Storm braced herself on the counter as the truth dawned on her.

She must be pregnant.

‡

W
hen Zane arrived
home from his meeting with Reverend Halpern, he found Regan and Cheyenne in the kitchen with the girls.

“Storm’s in her room,” Cheyenne said before he even asked. “She’ll want you to look in on her.”

“Okay. Is something up?” He didn’t trust the way the women were exchanging glances, but he decided to go right to the source to get his answer. He made his way upstairs and let himself into the bedroom, where he was surprised to find Storm tucked in bed, pale and drawn. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Just a little under the weather.”

He sat down on the edge of her bed and put his hand to her forehead.

“I don’t have a fever; it’s something else.”

“What?”

She squeezed his hand with hers, then reached under the covers. When she pulled it back out, she waved a pink plastic indicator at him. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

For a moment, Zane couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, either. “Pregnant?”

“Pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “What do you think?”

He climbed right onto the bed and crouched over her. “I think you’re brilliant!”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry?” He planted a kiss on her forehead, then her chin. Then her nose.