Page 11 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy (The Texas Wolf Brothers #3)

A nders didn’t know how he got through the next hour.

His head hurt. His gut hurt. He ached all over like he’d been in a fight.

He was used to pain, but this wasn’t physical.

He didn’t know how to muscle through. He wanted to get in his truck, crank up his play list and just ride. But he had furniture to move.

Tinsley picked a few items. He gave her a stack of Post-its to stick on the pieces she wanted.

He stood outside the barn and stared blindly at the view of his ranch—the rolling hills, stands of oak, grazing herd of longhorns that had always soothed him—and battled the urge to throw up.

Or hit something. Anything to take away from this feeling of helplessness and anger.

And fear for his unborn child.

She didn’t want the baby, and she didn’t want him.

Where exactly did that leave any of them?

He didn’t trust himself to speak to her. For the first time in his life, he opened his truck door but didn’t help her inside the cab. He drove her to the winery, both windows down because he didn’t think he could breathe with all the tension clawing through him.

The air was warm and fragrant with the miles and miles of nature surrounding them.

He dropped her off at the winery. Catalina and the crew were already coming out to greet her, so he drove off with just a slight tip of his hat that caused Catalina’s eyes to goggle.

Tinsley didn’t notice as she strode away from his truck, her legs long, her back straight and her face averted from the man who’d ruined her life.

So now what?

He’d texted a couple of hands to help him load and unload. Instead he got his oldest brother, Axel.

He’d always wished that Axel had talked more when he’d been growing up.

He’d admired his big brother so much. He’d pretty much taught him everything he knew, but Anders felt like his brother was mostly a mystery.

That worked in his favor today because Anders wasn’t in the mood for small talk or eviscerating himself with explanations.

They loaded the furniture in his truck and the small trailer Axel had hitched to his truck.

“The bedding and dishes and kitchen crap are in boxes on shelves, or do you think she’ll want to buy her own?” Axel asked.

Definitely, she wouldn’t want him picking out anything for her. But it wasn’t in his nature to be petty.

“We can start her off with the basics,” he said flatly starting back into the barn. “She has a lot to do, and August and Catalina are hoping to open the tasting room next weekend.”

He wouldn’t be here for the opening.

He’d be finishing the last leg of the tour before the finals in Vegas.

Where would they even be then?

Talking? Hating each other? What if she wanted to give the baby up for adoption? His soul shriveled.

“Get those two boxes there.” Axel was right behind him, reaching for the biggest box that he hadn’t even made the attempt to lift because he’d been caught in the nightmare scenario his brain had kicked out.

“I’ll get this and the other, and that should get her through a few weeks at least. We can order basics for groceries to be delivered. ”

He closed his eyes. They stung like he had dust in them.

“Keep moving, Anders. It’s easier.”

He knew. Of course Axel knew his little brother had fucked up and was not dealing. Axel had always been there for him, for August. When he’d only been a young teen himself, Axel had taken over for their mother and father after their brother Aurik had died.

Anders straightened and grabbed the two boxes, mentally kicking himself. He didn’t have time for angsty self-recrimination or pity. They finished loading. He slammed the tailgate of his truck hard enough to rock it and then went back to the barn to take a last look.

His eyes lingered on the handmade oak crib. She hadn’t picked that to load in the truck. His daddy had made the crib. Axel, August, Aurik, and then he had all slept in it.

“She doesn’t want the baby,” he said when he heard Axel re-enter the barn and stand next to him.

“Needs time to adjust to the idea, I expect.”

“What if she doesn’t?” He looked at Axel and anguish squeezed his heart.

“Then you deal with it then.”

It was so Axel. Simple. True. Saying everything while seeming to say nothing.

“She got family to help her?”

Guilt washed through him. He’d almost Googled her once but then thought that was stalkerish, that she’d tell him what she wanted him to know.

“I asked August if he knew.” Anders searched Axel’s body language for signs of judgment. “He said she hadn’t listed next of kin on her employment application, but that’s all he said.”

“We’re her family now.” Axel didn’t hesitate, and relief washed through Anders.

He’d started a list on his phone of all the people he needed to contact and what he had to do to prepare for becoming a father. He wanted everything in place well before the baby came. He had a dangerous job. He was good but bad rides were part of the job.

He took out his phone and added making an appointment with the family lawyer. Would he have to adopt his own child? And then what? How could he parent if he was gone for half a week for much of the year?

He felt like he’d swallowed a bucket of ice.

His brother had quit the tour for him. Quit when he was on top. Left his dream and never once complained or threw it in his face.

“Axel, do you think…?” He could barely squeeze the words out.

“When you left the tour how did you—?” He broke off, not sure what he really wanted to ask.

He felt like he was sixteen again and learning that their father had died.

He’d been unable to process it, but Axel had been there.

Steady. Confident. Taking over. Letting him find his own feet.

“Let’s go set up the apartment. I’m picking Diego up from school to take him to go look at a horse.”

“Okay.” Anders didn’t know if he was relieved or ashamed. He’d wanted to talk to his brother about so many things—from their past and from now—but it was hard and likely would have embarrassed them both.

Axel walked to his truck, opened the door, took off his Stetson, and then turned back. “You got about six months, Anders. Give her time. Give yourself time.”

He got in, slammed the door, and started the engine. He rolled down the window and grinned. “If you can’t figure out how to win her over in that time, you don’t deserve to have her.”

Anders felt something in his chest ease.

“Don’t make me knock some sense back into you,” Axel growled. “Get back on your horse, cowboy. No quitters on my watch.”

“Not on mine either,” he echoed and swung himself into the cab of his truck and gunned the engine. Nothing like a competition to make this errand a bit of fun and get his balance back.

*

“This perk does not suck,” Tinsley said much later that the afternoon while she and Catalina lounged on comfortable recliners poolside at Ghost Hill’s main house.

It had taken her more than a few minutes to pull herself together after her unaccustomed burst of honesty.

She’d wanted to stay in charge. She’d wanted to push Anders away.

Mission accomplished. Only she felt no triumph.

Professionally, today had been fulfilling.

She’d met the cellar crew, sampled quite a few wines from the barrel—spitting of course.

Then Catalina had driven her through the massive vineyards on a Gator, telling her about the different blocks—the clones, varietals, soil, elevation.

Tinsley had learned about wine from sommeliers, but Catalina’s enthusiasm was infectious.

It was just Tinsley’s personal life that seemed an irredeemable hot mess.

She began to feel like herself again—not just a woman with an unexpected and not at all welcome pregnancy.

Tinsley found herself excited to help build a wine and vineyard brand “from the roots up.” She no longer felt as if she was making an epic mistake, committing herself to two years.

The work would be challenging, creative and consuming.

And since it seemed Anders wanted to play a role in his child’s life, building a career in Last Stand made sense.

You’re getting way out in front of your horse. Two years was not a lifetime commitment. And it definitely wasn’t a promise to Anders. But even if she left Verflucht after two years, Texas was big and the economy vibrant. It wasn’t like she’d head back to the east coast ever.

“This house is like something out of a movie or one of those homes of the rich and famous shows. I still pinch myself every day when I come home.” Catalina looked around at the landscaped paver-style patio, the beautiful pool, the colorful ceramic pots with olive and fruit trees, the covered patio with the full outdoor kitchen, wagon-wheel drop-down chandeliers over the massive picnic table.

There was even an outdoor fire pit with seating.

Tinsley had grown up in a house much grander—but utterly sterile. Her mom never would have permitted inflatable white swans to float on the water or towels to be strewn on a lounger.

“I always loved this house when I was a kid, although August has super-sized the main living room,” Catalina said dreamily, staring at the pool where the inflatable white swan floated lazily into the hot pink flamingo inflatable.

Tinsley would have loved to have lounged on the pool toys and floated with the current created by the upper level hot tub water feature that flowed down a rock feature and into the partial lazy river that circled part of the pool.

“I think I spent more time here than at my own house. I always wished August’s mom was mine. She was so beautiful and kind. She taught me to cook.”

“That would have been hella awkward considering how things turned out for you and August,” Tinsley noted.

Catalina laughed.