Chapter Sixty-One - Diane

DIANE

SUMMER

I'm just inside the front door, hand on my hip as I survey the lawn. There are men out by the barn, standing around, hats on their heads, talking in a circle. Everybody has come to place bids for hay and grain.

Gerard Sovereign.

Jensen Childress.

And my husband, Westin River Quinn.

Behind me, in the kitchen, I can hear Keira talking to Allison and her son, Cash. They're both around the same age, and they spend all their time getting into trouble. The ceiling fan on the porch whirls. Cows low from the cool shade of the grove over the hill.

A truck comes up the drive, slowing as it pulls in next to the barn. The door opens, and Deacon Ryder jumps out, boots hitting the gravel hard. That means everyone is here, and we can start serving dinner. I push the door open and call out for my husband.

Westin comes, standing on the lowest step .

"You need me to bring in the barbeque, darling?" he asks.

I nod. He takes off his hat, setting it on my head. Smiling, I follow him down the hall and out the back. Cash and Allison dart around us, running as fast as they can for the creek. Keira dashes past, close on their heels.

"I better go help," I say.

He catches my elbow, kissing me quickly. "You get the kids. I'll do the rest."

I nod. He gives me a short smile, the kind that creases around his eyes. I pluck his hat off and fit it back on his head. He gives me a light spank as I leave. My heart is so full, I don't mind having to run down the hill and catch the children before they jump in the creek.

Keira takes them upstairs to wash, and I help Westin set the table and lay the food out. Then there are boots clattering down my hall as everyone fills up the dining room, all talking, laughing, joshing each other. The mood is light.

Everything is the same, but so different from the day I met Westin. This time, my house is full of people I chose, people I want to sit at my table.

Westin claps his hands. "Hats off, sit," he calls.

Everybody settles down. Westin pulls out my chair beside his at the head of the table. Feeling like a princess, I sit and let him push it in. To my left is Keira, and on her other side is Sovereign. The children sit on Westin's right, behaving for once.

Everyone fills their plates, and the talking starts back up again. It's a dull roar, but this time, it's good. We clean our plates and talk business. I stay quiet because I'm feeling especially sleepy today. My spine aches; I can't wait to crawl into bed and beg Westin for a back rub.

He glances over at me, eyes going soft. His hand slides over my thigh, up to my lower stomach.

I'm three months along. We haven't told anyone yet, but we plan to when I start showing. For now, we're enjoying having a secret just for the two of us .

This pregnancy is easier than the first. I'm not sick anymore, and my appetite is strong. Westin thinks it's a boy; I'm inclined to agree.

That night after everyone is gone, I go to check on Allison. She's a lump under the sheets, snoring. The moon glows through the open window. My heart swells, and my palm slips over the tiny curve of my lower belly. A rough hand curls around my waist, and Westin's chin rests on my head.

"Hey, you ready for bed?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "I've been ready all day."

I turn, letting him usher me down the hall and into our room. The door clicks shut, and I sink to the edge of the mattress. He kneels down, unstrapping my sandals. His hands move gently over my sore ankles and calves, massaging them. Our eyes lock, and I'm lost in his gaze, remembering why I chose him.

He's so strong. At the end of every day, I feel my burdens slide right off my shoulders when he touches me.

"You happy?" he asks, voice low.

I nod, unable to keep from smiling. He leans in, and I bend to kiss him. His beard is scratchy, his chest rising and falling. He tastes like Westin, like the man I'll love until the day I die. Reluctantly, I pull back. He reaches behind me to unfasten the necklace he gave me for my birthday this year: a little golden locket. He sets it in my jewelry dish on the bedside table with my rings.

Nobody forgets my birthday anymore. Westin makes sure of that.

"Let's get you into bed, darling," he says, voice low.

He helps me lay back, and then he kisses me again, once on the forehead, once on the mouth, and once on my lower belly. He tucks me in and brushes back my hair.

"You get some rest," he says. "I'm going to lock up the barn, and then I'll be back."

Curled up, I listen to the night birds cry. An owl screeches. The horses nicker from the stalls. From the bed, through the window, I can see Westin come around the back of the house with Billie at his heels. He checks the chicken coop. Then, he sinks down on the back steps and takes out a cigarette as Billie settles her head on his knee .

He's at peace, just sitting under the stars that stretch over his ranch like a net of pure silver, hat on his head and dog at his feet.

I watch him for a long time until he finishes his cigarette and gets up. The back door slams, and I hear him coming up the stairs. It's only when his presence fills the room that I finally close my eyes.

His lips brush my temple. "Goodnight, darling."

THE END