Page 34 of Huckleberry Hill (Saddles & Spurs #1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

The Ranch

It was three in the morning, and I’d read the same page of my book four times. I finally cast it aside and turned on the TV.

I was in the den, curled up on the couch, waiting for my father and boyfriend to come home.

Muddy had gone to bed hours ago and I’d eaten half the Boston cream pie in one sitting.

I heard the engine of the old farm truck. I waited a few minutes to see if Dad would come inside, but he didn’t.

Frowning in confusion, I got up to investigate. I looked out the window and saw the truck parked outside Declan’s cabin.

My fingers fell from the curtain and I went back to the couch. Twenty minutes later, the front door opened and closed softly.

There was the clod of footsteps across the wooden floor and then my father appeared in the doorway of the den.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he said.

“No, you didn’t.” I lifted the remote and turned off the TV.

He smiled lightly. “You’re right. I hoped you’d be asleep. Not the same thing, I guess.”

Dad came into the room and sat down on the couch next to me.

“What did you do to Declan?” I asked.

“Got him stinking drunk and then asked him a bunch of questions,” he said, running a hand across his stubbly jaw.

“Dad,” I groaned. “You didn’t.”

“I did. He thought we were drink for drink. But I had Wade pour apple juice in mine instead of bourbon. I took Declan to the cabin. Got him in his bed. Made sure to put water, aspirin and a trash can nearby. There’s a real good chance he’s going to vomit.

Though he swore up and down he wasn’t a puker. ”

I rubbed my eyes.

“You should probably spend the night over there, just to make sure he’s okay.”

“Dad,” I whispered, lunging for him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

I pulled back and wiped the tears from my eyes.

“No one is going to be good enough for you, Hadley,” he said, his voice sounding suspiciously thick. “But I have to let you make your own decisions. I have to let you choose. And of all the men you could have chosen, I’m glad it’s Declan.”

“Had to get him drunk and talking to admit that, huh?” I asked with a laugh.

He swallowed but didn’t smile. “You know what he said to me?”

I shook my head.

“I asked him about you being—being infertile. Fuck, I feel like I didn’t even give you the right reaction to that. We just glossed right over it. I know it’s tearing you up inside. I know how much you wanted a family of your own.”

“Declan said there are plenty of ways to make a family,” I said quietly.

Dad nodded. “That’s what he told me too.

He told me that he only wants you to be happy.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

And I believe him. Not because he was drunk, but because I remembered meeting him for the first time before he ever even knew you existed.

I had a good feeling about him. And my intuition has never let me down.

It’s what made me propose to your mom so fast. And look what we made together. A beautiful life, and you girls.”

“I’m going to cry,” I warned.

“That’s okay,” he said with an endearing smile.

I burst into tears and reached for my father. He held me while I cried, patting my back like he did when I was little.

When my emotions had run their course, I pulled back and wiped my cheeks.

“Go on, now,” Dad said with a sigh. “Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own tongue.”

“Dad,” I said with a laugh.

“He’s not a drinker. He can’t hold his liquor for shit. It only took him three shots to get sloppy. That’s a good sign. He’s got a good head on his shoulders and he’s been solid as a rock since he’s been here.”

“So, we have your blessing?” I asked quietly.

“Would it matter if you didn’t?”

“No.” I smiled to take the sting out of it. I kissed his cheek. “Sleep well, Dad.”

“I will.”

I bit my lip as I stood up. He looked at me and waited.

“You’ve got a lot of life left in you, old man,” I said gently. “It would be a shame not to share it with someone. Just think about that, okay?”

He didn’t reply as I walked toward the front door. I slid into my outdoor slippers and grabbed my jacket. I knew the path to the cabin by heart and traversed it easily.

I walked up the porch steps and took off my slippers before going inside. I locked the door and turned off the main light—the lamp in the bedroom was on.

Standing in the doorway, I watched Declan, asleep on his back. His boots were still on. I crouched down and gently removed them and set them aside.

He was too heavy for me to lift so I left him in his jeans and shirt. I crawled into bed next to him and placed my hand on his head.

“Hadley,” he slurred.

I smiled, glad that even in a drunken delirium, he thought of me.

Me, and no one else.

“I’m here, cowboy,” I whispered.

“Love you,” he muttered before falling back to sleep.

“I love you too.”

“Fuck. My. Life.” Declan appeared in the living room, looking pale, disheveled, and downright terrible. “What time is it?”

“Eleven a.m.,” I said, taking a sip of my lukewarm coffee.

He was in a pair of boxer briefs and a white T-shirt. He must’ve stripped down before coming out because he hadn’t moved all night once he’d passed out.

“Your dad is a cruel, cruel man.” He swiped a hand down his face, wincing when he touched his jaw. “He punched me in the face and then got me drunk.”

“You let him do both those things,” I reminded him.

“I was hoping it would get me in good with him.”

“Mission accomplished.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Why are you here? I thought you were sleeping in your own bed last night. Or did you sleep in your own bed last night and come over this morning and wait for me to get up?”

“Coffee?” I asked, rising from the chair. “Toast?”

“Orange juice,” he begged. “And dear lord, don’t mention food.”

“Okay.” I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Dad got you to bed and he and I had a brief talk. He told me to sleep over here. He was worried about you choking on your own tongue.”

Declan sat down on the couch. I handed him the orange juice and he took a sip. He waited a moment, no doubt to see how his stomach reacted, and then he took another bigger swallow.

“Well, at least he didn’t try and kill me. It would’ve been so easy for him to do that,” Declan muttered.

“He gave us his blessing,” I announced. “It wouldn’t matter if he hadn’t, though.”

“No?” He raised his brows. “You would’ve defied your father to be with me? Very Romeo and Juliet.”

“They died,” I said blandly. “No one’s dying in my story.”

He smiled and then his expression slipped. “I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I? Did I say anything embarrassing?”

“Not to me,” I said. “You were really sweet. Told me you loved me and passed out. It was kind of adorable.”

“Adorable.” He squinted. “You can’t turn down the sun, can you?”

I giggled. “No. But I can find your sunglasses.”

“Please, God. The aspirin hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“You really should eat something. You shouldn’t take that stuff on an empty stomach.”

“What’s it going to do? Make me nauseous? Too late for that.”

I got up and brushed a kiss to his forehead and then went to the bedroom to the nightstand. I picked up his aviators and brought them to him.

“So I was wondering,” I said, retaking my seat.

“Wondering what?”

“Wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with Gracie and her husband, Cole. Like a double date thing.”

“Sure.” He turned his head. “Not tonight, right? Please, not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” I assured him. “But maybe when Cole has a night off?”

“That sounds good.” He settled down on the couch and rubbed his jaw. “I think I told Wade we should be friends. Though I can’t be completely sure. It’s all kind of fuzzy.”

“You’re a nice drunk, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m super friendly. Not friendly with the ladies though, I promise.”

“I’m not worried. Dad vouched for your character.”

“Is your dad hurting this morning?”

“No. Wade was pouring him apple juice in whiskey glasses the whole night.”

“I knew it!” he yelled and then immediately winced. “Ow.”

“You really sure I can’t make you toast before I go?”

“Where are you going?”

“I figured you’d want to go back to bed. After all, hangovers at your age must be debilitating.”

“Cruel woman. Making fun of my age.”

I grinned. “Dad said it only took you three shots to get completely trashed. You know that’s endearing, don’t you? A cowboy who isn’t a huge drinker is hard to find.”

“I aim to please. And when I’m feeling better, I’ll do just that.” He sighed. “Toast would be good. Dry, though. The idea of butter makes me want to throw up.”