One Bride for Four Ranchers
Page 57
Beside me, the men remain blessedly silent. I’m thankful
because if they started interjecting right now, Jed might just get pissed and leave. So, I try to keep his focus on me.
Around us, the restaurant is filled with the normal sounds of a café. Conversation, plates being stacked, and the sound of silverware being sorted somewhere in the back. I’m almost painfully aware of all of the sounds, as Jed watches us all silently, thinking.
After a long moment, he says, “Because I can’t afford it. I couldn’t afford my share of the project before they cut off my water access. And with them shifting the market to these more environmentally friendly fucking cows, I definitely can’t afford it now.”
And I don’t have to say anything else. The Hollister brothers jump in, they and start telling him about a loan program they can offer, and grant program they’ve found. Joshua offers to help navigate it all since, as he says, not even his brothers can figure out all the stupid forms for the grants. The waitress brings our orders somewhere in the middle of it all, as well as Jed’s regular lunch dish.
Listening to them, I marvel at the generosity of the men I’ve been so fortunate to find. The Hollister’s are willing to help Jed every step of the way, so long as he’s willing to work toward sustainability.
We eat. They talk. And at the end, they all agree.
And then they shake on it.
Back to the ranch and I have to admit that I’m pretty proud of myself. The conversation with Jed went well. Of course, I didn’t do most of the talking—or even, really any of the talking. But I did get them all to sit down with each other, and that feels pretty awesome.
The men are all in a good mood, too. They chat about future plans for the ranch and how working with Jed will benefit everyone during the rest of the drive home. But when we unload from the truck, my phone rings. I answer as we walk onto the deck. “Hey boss,” I say, having seen Argus’s name on the caller ID.
“I love the story. You managed to capture the heart of what’s really going on out there. And somehow you made it sound like some kind of dream—but with some real hard numbers to back up what they’re doing. Good job, Jessa,” Argus says.
My cheeks heat of the compliment. “I’m so glad you liked it.”
“Liked it? I loved it!” Argus says. “So much so that I’ve got another assignment I want to send you on right away. I just need to know how quickly you can be at the airport, and we’ll fly you directly to Florida if that works for you.”
I halt in my steps, and the men do, too. Argus isn’t exactly a quiet talker, so they’ve definitely heard what he said, too. “Oh?”
We reach the front door, and the men wave at me to get my attention.
Clay mouths, Stay. And the other men, seeing him, do so as well.
My mouth drops open, and I’m not sure what to say. On the other end of the line, Argus is talking about where he wants to send me and why. But I don’t take in any of it.
“Argus—” I say, cutting into his pitch. “I think I’m going to have to take a pass right now. I’m... I’m going to be taking a little bit of a break from writing for a while. But I’ll be in touch.”
“Is everything all right?” Argus asks, immediately concerned. I haven’t told my boss about the pregnancy yet, but now isn’t the time. I need to talk to the guys.
“Everything is wonderful, actually. But can I fill you in later?”
“Of course. Give me a call when you can.”
I hang up the phone, and hope flutters in my chest. I take a deep breath of the fresh Wyoming air and let it out slowly. “Do you guys really want me to stay?”
“Yes,” they all answer in unison.
I smile. “You all owe each other a Coke.” I’m afraid to hope, afraid to ask. But I have to know. “How long do you want me to stay?”
“Forever, of course,” Tyler says in his normally jovial fashion, always the jokester. “At least until you get sick of us. Even then, we’d rather you just stay and deal with it forever.”
“The kid’s right,” Joshua says, his expression earnest. “We’d like you to stay here, with us.”
I almost can’t believe what I’m hearing, but then Trey pipes in, “Please stay, Jessa. We love you. And we need you.”
My mouth drops open, but I can’t help it. I look at Clay. He’s the one started all this—well, him and me. And it it’s technically his baby I’m carrying—even though I somehow know that all of these men will treat the child I’m carrying as their own. “And you?”
Clay takes two long steps toward me and then clasps my hands with his. His eyes search mine, as his thumbs draw small circles on the backs of my hands. “Do you really not know how much I want you here? How much I need you here? We all do. We love you, Jessa. And we want you to be with us forever.”
I swallow around the hard lump in my throat. And I’m suddenly lightheaded and teary-eyed. “I love you guys, too. And I think I’d like to make this my new home.”