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Teddy stopped and Rowan blinked at the bright day in confusion. “Gage…? I-I’m sorry.”
He kissed the back of her head. “Connection with the horse, connection with a person, a chance to clear your mind. It’s what I hoped for, Rowan.”
He gave her a gentle hug with the arm around her and slipped to the ground. Reaching up, he lifted her off Teddy’s back and carried her to the porch. Placing her gently on her feet on the step that put them eye to eye, he smiled.
“Connection and comfort don’t have to mean sex, Rowan. They never have to - not with me or anybody else. Let me help you through the worst of it. Make sure you get your baby in the world safe and sound.”
Stepping close, he gathered her into a hug. Strong arms around her, the scent of horse and male surrounded her. It was nothing she expected but exactly what she needed.
When she started to cry, he held her closer, his palm on the back of her head. “That’s it. It’s okay. Take what you really need that isn’t gonna make your pain worse after.”
The tears were cleansing more than agonizing. He held her as she wept against him and didn’t speak. After a long time, she pulled back and he wiped her tears with his thumbs.
“Thank you, Gage.”
He nodded, leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and gave her a half smile. Then he walked to his horse, jumped up in the saddle, and took off toward the road to his house.
Rowan watched him until he was out of sight.
Chapter Eighteen
2004 - Age 27
The hour she spent with Gage and his horse helped Rowan turn a corner in her grief. She found her rhythm again.
Gage spent time with her without pushing, without expectations, assuming the role he knew Bennett would have held if he’d lived. The way he was helped her heal.
It wasn’t perfect but it got better every day.
She’d lived in her house in Daingerfield for almost six months. James and Mary-Margaret closed up the estate. They’d only returned once for a charity gala she’d forgotten had been planned since before Bennett’s death.
Beginning to show in the middle of her fifth month, the gown her husband commissioned when the event was scheduled no longer fit. The seamstress had clucked over Rowan kindly and found an alternate.
She spent the evening in the company of Samuel and Monica Fields, their daughter running interference with guests who wanted Rowan’s time - or to satisfy their curiosity about her obvious pregnancy.
Watching Elliana Fields answer questions about the Jefferson charity organization made Rowan remark, “What a brilliant young woman.”
Monica smiled warmly. “She’s like you, Rowan. Loves philanthropy above all else. I’d love for you to visit Elysian Fields next year so she can pick your brain.”
“After the baby comes, I’ll make plans.”
Samuel nodded. “You’re glowing. Are you feeling okay?”
“The pregnancy has been easy. My stomach revolts now and again - just awhiffof pickles makes me gag - but it’s not unusual. A rollercoaster of emotion, naturally. Some days...” Her voice trailed away and she took several deep breaths. Then she smiled. “Some days are good, others not so much. My friends help.”
“Then keep them close and lean on them as much as you can,” Monica murmured. “You’ll be strong again before you know it, Rowan.”
She did exactly that.
Days in the country passed slowly, lazily, and Rowan appreciated the calm environment as she passed her twenty-seventh birthday and her due date in early August neared.
As she did every morning, she woke up and stared across the treetops in the direction of Gage’s house. She went through a series of gentle stretches she’d started doing when she got too uncomfortable to run.
After a shower, she dressed in a flowing sundress. One of the items of clothing able to accommodate her belly and the sweltering Texas heat.
Walking downstairs to her office, she opened her laptop and stared at an inbox holding almost two hundred new emails.
It was time to start lessening her workload. The main corporation ran itself without much involvement from her but each time she attempted to cut back the time she spent on the charity division, another needy family or shelter on the verge of closing showed up in her email.
