Page 46 of Cowboy

Harland sighs heavily. “That happens too, darlin’. It won’t be the last time, but hurt comes in waves.” He swipes his hand up and down like the rolling hills around us. “So does forgiveness.”

“I don’t think he’ll forgive me,” I whisper.

“First, you’ll need to forgive yourself.” Harland’s squinting, his gaze focused somewhere off in the distance. “You’ll need to accept what you did, realize what’s done is done, and then take steps to do right by it.”

While I understand what he’s saying, I don’t know how and say as much. “I don’t know what to do.” Apologizing will never be enough.

“I think it’s about time you learn more about this land and how we operate, seeing as it holds our future, and so do you.”

He continues to gaze forward when I turn to look at him. “I might be old, but I’m not blind. I know a pregnant woman when I see one. With life churning inside her, she has a certain glow about her. You have that same dazed, dreamy look my Rose had when she was carrying the boys.”

“The girls I work with call that dopey look pregnancy brain as I’m a bit forgetful at times.”

“The girls at work know you’re pregnant before the family?” Harland chides another slap of hurt in his tone.

“I had morning sickness at work. It was difficult to disguise as Audrey and Zara have both had babies.”

Harland nods. “You and Bull keeping it a secret for some reason?”

“No, sir, but there are some . . . complications surrounding my pregnancy, and I think we just wanted to be certain of a few things before we shared with everyone.”

“You feeling alright? Taking your vitamins and such?” His concern comforts me. His simple questions are more than my own parents have asked. Then again, they don’t know I’m pregnant yet unless Shelton told them, which I doubt he did.

“It’s nothing physical. Sprout is doing great.”

Harland makes a funny face, scrunching up his nose and forcing the crow’s feet near his eyes to fold. “Hope Sprout isn’t really the name you’re giving my grandbaby. It was difficult enough when Rose wanted to name Blade after a piece of grass.” He chuckles, and my smile grows.

“Bull’s been around the block some. Is the complication his reckless desire for love? Are you questioning your relationship status?” The question surprises me and sounds rather social media-ish. Does Harland know something I don’t? Is Bull unhappy with me? If he wasn’t before, he certainly is now. I have no doubt he’ll want nothing to do with me after this mess. He’ll decide he doesn’t want the baby after all if we learn it’s not his.

“I’m not certain what Bull and I were, but after this, I have no doubt he’ll want me to leave.” My chest aches. We had something. Two people cannot come together the way we did and not have something building between them. I can’t be alone in how I feel about him, but maybe I am. I certainly was alone in what I thought of my marriage. Maybe I’m just a bad judge of character. Maybe I can’t interpret people like I think I can.

“Bull’s angry,” Harland interjects. “He just needs time to cool off. My boys are lovers. They got that soft spot from their mother. I’ve seen him fall in and out of love so many times that it’s like watching a child on a seesaw. Eventually, the ride gets old, though, and a man wants to stop playing around. He needs to figure out what he really wants. I’ll say this, his eyes never followed a woman around a room the way his follow you. I’m not certain he’s ever smiled the way he does when he sees you. He was too young in his first marriage. Desperate to prove himself with his second attempt. Not certain about that third bird, but you, Scarlett, you’re the four-leaf clover he’s been looking for. Don’t give up on him yet.”

Harland must be confused because it will be Bull who walks away from me and not the other way around. Not only is this breaking his heart but it’s also hurting his family’s livelihood. Inspections? Lawyer fees? Loss of business? Our little story went too far, and I need to make amends. I need to make things right.

The next morning, I’m up when the cows rise, or at least I think that’s what a dairy farmer might say. Harland walked me the remainder of the way to Bull’s place, and I returned to the guest room for the night, so I didn’t hear Bull if he came in. However, when I climb down the stairs, groggy from a restless night of sleep, I find the under-cabinet lights on in the kitchen. The coffee pot is full with a mug next to it. Bull’s been leaving a mug by the machine every morning as I can’t reach where he places them on the highest shelf in his cupboard. The gesture hits me like an arrow in the chest. He’s still such a sweet man.

After slipping into a pair of old Wellies near the side door, I strut down the lane, ready to swallow my pride and learn more about this farm I’m living on. In the dark quiet of the early morning, it’s peaceful, and I take a deep breath of fresh air despite the hint of cow manure. I enter the large white structure housing the Eaton herd and hold back a wave of nausea at the animal smell.

“What are you doing here?” Blade says.

“I’m here to help milk the cows,” I state, putting on a brave face while having no idea what I’m getting myself into. If I had visions of hand milking some hundred-plus cows, Bull quickly dispelled the fantasy a while back, giving me a tour of the place where a complicated-looking machine rivaling the coffee maker at the Busy Bean actually does the milking. Bull and his family still need to do plenty of other things to move the process along, like steering the animals into position, sanitizing their udders, or teats as I’ve been corrected, and then hooking the machines up to milk.

“What the hell?” Bull says from behind me, and I spin to face him, feeling small compared to his booming voice and large presence, but my breath also hitches as it’s so good to see him, even if it’s been less than twelve hours. He looks as tired as I feel.

“I’d like to learn more about the farm,” I admit, trying to stay strong, but my voice cracks. He glances away from me for a second before turning back with a shield over those midnight blue eyes.

“It’s not safe in here for you.”

“Why not?’ Blade comes to my defense. I’m ready for Bull to tell his brother about toxoplasma or animal infection concerns while I’m pregnant, but he and I already learned cows make the safe list. Although we’ve both assumed his family doesn’t know I’m pregnant, his dad clearly does, leaving me to wonder if the others have their suspicions.

“She’s . . . it just isn’t,” Bull catches himself. “We don’t need help.”

“We can always use help,” Blade interjects again.

“Not from Scarlett.” The words are a sucker punch to the gut. Bull has written me off as unacceptable to be near his precious herd.

“Blade, could you give us a minute?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.