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“We weren’t a large family, or a close family. It was just my mom and me growing up.”
Abigail’s expression was sympathetic.
“I guess that’s hard for you to imagine,” said Darby, for some reason feeling slightly embarrassed.
“Well, the Jacobs clan has always been close and big.” Abigail’s hand went to her stomach. “Getting bigger all the time.”
Darby took the opening. “When is your baby due?”
“January. Four more months.”
“You look really good.” For a woman who was five months pregnant, Abigail looked extraordinarily fit and healthy.
“I feel a little tired,” she admitted.
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“A boy,” said Abigail. “A cousin for Asher to play with.”
“Asher’s your nephew?” Darby had researched the whole Jacobs family, but she wanted to keep the conversation going in this direction.
“My sister Mandy’s son. It might sound sexist, but boys are always good news for a ranching family.”
“I thought you lived at the DFB Brewery now.”
“I do.” Abigail nodded. “But I’ll always have roots at the ranch. But you want to talk about the train.”
“Yes, I would like that.” Darby nodded. “I can’t help wondering if the price we’d pay as a community would be worth the monetary savings from moving cattle.”
“What do you think we’d give up?”
“Peace,” Darby said. “Quiet. I know DFB is becoming a popular tourist stop.”
“Trains would bring more tourists,” Abigail countered.
“There are plans for passenger service?” Darby hadn’t heard anything about passenger service.
“Not immediately, but you never know, once the tracks are in place…”
“You don’t think your customers would rather have the quiet ambiance and drive to DFB?”
“I truly don’t know.”
Darby decided to try another tactic. “You grew up in Lyndon Valley, right?”
“I did.”
“Did you like it?” Darby glanced at Abigail’s swollen belly. “Would you like your own children to grow up in the same kind of Lyndon Valley that you enjoyed as a child?”
“I don’t agree that a train would so fundamentally change the character of the Valley. Though I do believe that’s your strongest argument.”
Darby thought it was, too, though she was surprised to hear Abigail say so. “Do you worry about safety?”
“There’s already a lot of danger on a ranch,” said Abigail. “Kids need to learn how to avoid it from a young age.”
Darby hadn’t thought of it from that perspective. She supposed train crossings were no more perilous than angry bulls.
Abigail leaned forward. Her expression and tone were still open and friendly. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What’s really going on here, Darby? You seem more passionate about this than makes sense.”
“I like Berlynn Lake the way it is,” said Darby. “And my customers—all women, by the way—are looking for a respite.”
“From?” asked Abigail.
“Very, very stressful lives.” Darby wished she could elaborate. It might gain her some sympathy. But she needed to keep Sierra Hotel’s clientele a secret. If it became general knowledge that military strategists, covert operatives and criminal gang specialists frequented her inn, a whole host of enemies could take an interest in the place.
“The rail will cross right through my property,” she continued. “Hundred-car freight trains will shake the ground, and the whistles will bounce across the lake day and night.”
“I haven’t been up there in years.”
“You should come up,” Darby said. “And remind yourself how beautiful it is.” She couldn’t help smiling. “You might want to make it soon. Since you’ll probably get really busy in the next few months.”
Abigail returned the smile. Then she rose to her feet. “Maybe I will.”
Darby stood with her.
“But for now,” said Abigail, “I’m going to find Sawyer. This mommy-to-be needs her sleep.”
“Thank you for listening,” said Darby.
“It was good to meet you. You’re not nearly as bad as Seth makes out.”
“Seth’s talked about me?” Darby didn’t know why that surprised her. It made sense that Seth would complain about her to his family, probably to anyone else who would listen, as well.
“You get under his skin,” said Abigail. She seemed to consider Darby.
“I wish he would listen to reason,” Darby remarked.
“He’s listening,” said Abigail. “He’s just disagreeing with you.”
“Of course.” Darby backed down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult—”
“It’s fine, Darby. You’re allowed to fight with my brother. It’s probably good for him. Most of his successes in life have come way too easily.”
Darby read between the lines. “You expect him to win.”
“I expect him to win,” Abigail confirmed. “But that doesn’t mean you should stop trying.”
“Oh, I’ll keep trying,” Darby said.
“There’s Sawyer.” Abigail nodded along the sundeck. “I’ll call you if I can make it to Berlynn Lake.”
“No need to call,” said Darby. “Stop by anytime.”
She watched while Abigail made her way toward her husband.
Darby watched as he smiled warmly at his wife, closing the distance between them, taking her arm, whispering something that made them both grin.
Darby couldn’t help being slightly jealous of the romantic picture. Not that she sought a hearth, home and white picket fence. But having a man look at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world was rather compelling.
As they disappeared, Seth returned, making his way back to Darby.
“How’d it go?” he asked. “Any luck co-opting my sister?”
“I think so. She seemed open to my arguments.”
“You’re lying.” He sat down beside her, so close they were almost touching.
“Abigail has a mind of her own. She’s not always going to toe your family line.” Darby knew she should put some space between her and Seth, but for some reason she stayed put.
“She understands the importance of the railroad. She’s a rancher.”
“She’s a brewery owner. And she’s going to be a mother.”
“Doesn’t make her any less of a rancher.”
Darby paused and studied him. “Interesting logic you’ve got going there.”
“She grew up on a ranch and is every bit as much a shareholder in the family ranch corporation as I am.”
“So, you’re still a rancher?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then how can you represent the interests of the non-ranching community as mayor?”
“I concentrate really, really hard.”
“Seth—”
“Darby, we can go round and round this all night long.”
She couldn’t disagree. “I suppose arguing with each other is pointless.” It wasn’t like either of them was going to budge.
“It is pointless. You want to talk about something else? Maybe something we can agree on?”
“You can think of something we’d agree on?”
“Not off the top of my head. You?”
“I like apple pie,” she offered, deciding she needed a mental break from sparring with Seth.
He smiled at that.
“I like baseball,” he returned.
“Motherhood,” said Darby.
“Where do you stand on ice cream?”
“Butter pecan?”
“My favorite,” said Seth.
“Who’d have thought?”
“Kisses?” he asked, his voice a low, sexy rumble.
“Excuse me?” She pretended not to have heard properly, but her heart gave a deep, hard thump.
He eased slightly closer, his thigh touching against hers. “Kisses from one particular woman.”
Darby’s throat went dry. This was not a good direction. Not at all.
She rose to her feet, intending to leave, but he caught her hands.
“I thought kisses might be something we could agree on.”
“We can’t go there,” she breathed.
His hands were warm—no, hot—and the way they held hers was a perfect blend of strength and tenderness. Arousal once more percolated its way through her body, sensitizing her skin.
“We’re already there.” His tone was deep and compelling.
“Seth,” she protested.
“We should do it again.”
“Here?” she asked incredulously, glancing around. “Now?”
