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He could envision her with a baby in her arms. A little girl who looked just like her. And then he pictured himself as part of that image—the loving husband and doting father—
Wait. What?
Totally confused by the direction of his thoughts, he gave himself a mental shake. What was up with him? Maybe it was this intimate setting. Yes, that had to be it. Jillian’s place was a lot different than his parents’ house. This apartment was warm and snug like a love nest. While his parents’ home was more formal.
Once the dishes were washed up and the remnants of flour removed from the kitchen, Jillian invited him to sit with her in the living room area of the open floor plan. The last batch of cookies was in the oven. He really just wanted to leave.
Still, he couldn’t be rude and run out on her, especially after the way she’d gone out of her way to help him. And so he took a seat on the couch, leaving a respectable space between them. He sat there for a moment in silence, not sure what to say.
“What’s bothering you?” Jillian’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“Why do you think anything’s wrong?”
“Because I’ve known you most of my life and I can tell when something’s eating at you.”
He wasn’t about to tell her the truth—that she made him wonder what his life would be like if his parents hadn’t died. If he’d had a normal life, would they have ended up together? Would they have had a baby together?
Instead he uttered, “I got a letter this week.”
“That must have been some letter to rattle you so much.”
Now why in the world had he gone and mentioned the letter? He’d planned to keep it to himself until he’d made a decision. But he found it surprisingly easy to talk to Jillian—as long as it didn’t involve his mixed emotions about her.
“It was definitely a shock.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “It appears Howard Smith set up his will in such a way that I was given first chance at buying the Crooked S Ranch.”
“Really?” Her face lit up with a big smile. “That’s wonderful. Mr. Smith always did treat you like family. So what does this mean?”
“That’s the problem. His nephews are businessmen in San Francisco and they have no interest in running a ranch. They want to sell it and I have ninety days in which to secure financing.”
“I’m so happy for you.” She studied his face. When he didn’t respond, she asked, “Why don’t you seem excited about this?”
“Believe me, I am. I’m just worried.”
Her smile dimmed as concern reflected in her eyes. “Worried about what?”
“Coming up with the money. I already talked to the bank and I’ve been turned down for a loan.”
“Well, if that’s the problem, there has to be another solution.” She leaned back on the couch as though to consider the options.
“Don’t worry about it. This is my problem.”
“But sometimes two minds are better than one.”
Just then the timer for the cookies went off. Avery jumped to his feet. When he pulled the cookies from the oven, he said, “I think I’ve got these cookies down pat.”
“Good.” Jillian joined him in the kitchen. She grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite. “Mm… Did you taste them?”
“I had some of the batter.”
“You need to try the baked version.” She grabbed another cookie and held it out to him.
He took it and bit into the still-warm cookie. It was a mix of different textures. The soft chocolate, the crunchy pretzel, and the rich, chewy cookie dough. He liked it. Really liked it.
He couldn’t help but smile. He’d actually accomplished this—with a little bit of help. Okay a lot of help. None of it would have been possible without Jillian.
His gaze met hers. “Thank you.”
*
