Page 43 of Huckleberry Hill (Saddles & Spurs #1)

Chapter Forty-Two

The Ranch

Declan sat on the front porch of the cabin, nursing a beer. His lip had stopped bleeding, but his jaw was definitely bruised.

“Is he gone?” Declan asked unnecessarily.

I nodded. “He’s staying in town for the night though. At the Regal Beagle.”

The Regal Beagle had once been an old bar and brothel that serviced the miners of Huckleberry Hill during the silver rush in the late 1800s.

It was built up in the Roaring ‘20s and then boarded up during the Great Depression. It sat there for decades untouched until Huckleberry Hill grew big enough to support a bed and breakfast. The decor was still Victorian grandma-core at its finest, and over the reception desk was a picture of the owner’s beagle wearing a crown; hence the name.

“I don’t like the bastard,” Declan said. “But his eye was swelling shut. Was he safe to drive?”

My lips twitched. “I had Dad drive him.”

“Did you now?” Declan’s slow grin stretched across his face and then he winced when his lip split open again. “Damn it.”

I raised the bakery bag. “Want one?”

He shook his head. “Those are all for you.”

“Okay then. I’m going for it.” I dove into the bag and pulled a cookie out and bit into it.

“Why didn’t you tell him who I was?” Declan asked finally. “For that matter, why didn’t you tell him you were pregnant?”

“First of all, you walked in right after he arrived and second, I was trying to avoid something like that,” I said, pointing at his lip. “Did you break his nose?”

“Yep. His nose was too perfect to begin with.” He paused. “You didn’t tell me he was handsome.”

“Not that handsome.” I tried to keep the smile inside. I was starting to really like my new jealous, possessive Declan.

“Seriously, Hadley. Were you going to tell him who I was? Or tell him anything about me if I hadn’t shown up?”

“No. I wasn’t going to tell him about you or the baby.”

“Why the fuck not?”

I looked at him, my brow furrowing. “Because it wasn’t about you or the baby. It was about me.”

He swallowed. “Go on.”

“He wanted me to go back to New York with him. He wanted to pick up where we left off, start all over again or whatever. And I told him that he walked out on me the minute things got tough. He thought he could tell me how much he missed me, and that Italy wasn’t the same without me.

He thought I still felt the same way about him that I had before.

But I don’t. I really don’t, Declan. I didn’t tell him that after I fell in love with you I realized it was never like that with me and him.

There’s no reason to hurt him like that. What’s done is done.”

I fell silent and looked at the bakery bag.

And then I spoke again. “I think I fell out of love with him the moment he left me. Because I never once begged God or the universe or whatever for him to come back to me. I never wanted him to come here. You have to believe me, Declan. I love you . And I love you in a way I never loved Gianni.”

“I believe you,” he said gruffly. “I just needed to hear it.”

I laughed. “If anything, seeing Gianni in person made me realize how much I’ve moved past it all. Past him, past that life. Past the loss of what could’ve been.”

I looked at his hand. “I want to hold your hand, but your knuckles look swollen.”

“They are, but it doesn’t matter.” He took my hand in his. I made sure to hold it loosely.

“So about you not being possessive or jealous . . .”

He arched a brow. “He had it coming.”

“Oh, he definitely did.” I gasped. “Shit.”

“What?” Declan asked.

“I was in the middle of a conversation with the girls when Gianni showed up. They keep bugging me to open the rest of my boxes.”

“Let’s go,” he said, rising. He opened the cabin door and Tempest trotted out onto the porch.

I picked her up and we walked back to the main house. It was quiet. Dad hadn’t returned yet and Muddy had made herself scarce.

We went up to my bedroom and I set Tempest down onto the bed. Declan dragged the few remaining boxes out of my closet and sat on the edge of the mattress.

He handed me his knife and I cut open a box. Shoes. I cut open another. More clothes. The third box . . . jackpot.

I held up a black lace teddy.

“No,” Declan said, his eyes darkening.

“Oh, yeah.” I peeked into the box. “A whole box of lingerie. Neatly stacked and folded with tissue paper.”

Declan groaned. “God, it’s been forever since I’ve been inside you.”

“Call it foreplay, Declan,” I said with a laugh. I felt around in the box, wondering if there was anything else I hadn’t seen yet.

An envelope was at the bottom of the box. I glanced at Declan and opened it and took out a heavy piece of cream stationary.

Dear Hadley,

I love you and hate you at the same time.

I know you’re happy, and the right choice was to leave New York, but I miss you every day.

It’s not the same having you across the country, but I get it.

My life is here, yours is there. I’ll come home for a visit when the distance is too much, and I have to see you.

The girls and I got you every piece of lingerie we saw on your private not-so-private Pinterest board. Seriously, get a stronger password.

Miss you, love you, and if Declan is reading this then tell him I give my blessing.

Love, Salem

P.S. Lingerie is expensive, dude. And if anyone asks, it wasn’t me who sold Gianni’s clothes at a consignment shop. Also, it wasn’t me who signed him up for a gay dating app.

With a laugh, I brought the note to my chest. And then I handed it to Declan. He quickly scanned it and let out a booming laugh.

I heard the sound of the front door open. “Hadley!”

“Crap,” I muttered, closing up the box of lingerie. “Quick, get this in the closet.”

“We really need to move back into the cabin,” Declan said, as he placed his beer bottle on my nightstand. He got up and put the box into the closet.

“Up here!” I called out.

I heard the heavy tromp of my father’s footsteps and a moment later my door opened.

“What are you guys doing up here?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Declan and I said at the same time.

“Right,” Dad drawled.

“Is Gianni still alive?” I asked.

“Yes. Unfortunately,” Dad said. He looked at Declan. “You did some serious damage to his pretty-boy face.”

“Sure did,” Declan agreed.

“Saved me the trouble. Thanks, Declan.”

“My pleasure.”

“I think we deserve a beer,” Dad said.

“One step ahead of you.” Declan gestured to the nightstand where his nearly empty beer bottle rested.

“Ah, I better catch up then,” Dad said. “It’s three p.m. anyway. Perfect time to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?” I asked.

“Declan defending your honor,” Dad said. “Among other things.”

“What other things?”

“Let’s go downstairs,” Dad suggested. “Muddy should be back any moment.”

Declan and I exchanged a glance. Dad was being unusually cryptic. He left the room, leaving us no choice but to follow. Tempest was the first one out the door.

By the time we made it downstairs, Dad had already grabbed himself a beer and made himself comfortable in the den.

“Sparkling water? Ginger ale?” Declan asked me.

“Water’s fine,” I said as I took a seat on the couch.

Tempest jumped up into my father’s lap and draped herself across him. Declan returned to the den with my water just as the front door opened.

“We’re in the den!” Dad called out.

Muddy appeared, her long braid slung over one shoulder. “You didn’t say anything yet, did you?”

“I waited for you,” Dad said.

“Can I get you a drink?” Declan asked. “We’re having beer.”

“Beer. This is not a beer conversation. Whiskey.” She sat down on the couch next to me. She set her big, brown leather bag on her lap and riffled through it, pulling out a manilla envelope.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Patience,” she admonished.

Declan handed her a drink and then sat on the brick bench of the hearth and waited.

“Go ahead,” Muddy said to Dad.

“You sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Dad smiled. “Well, normally, I’d wait to give you this gift until after you were married.” He shot Declan a look.

“Patience,” Declan quipped.

“But since these are extenuating circumstances,” Dad went on. “We thought it was fitting.”

Muddy handed me the envelope. I unsealed it and pulled out a deed. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes,” Muddy said with a smile.

“What is it?” Declan asked.

I held it out to him, and he took it. He glanced between Dad and Muddy. “You’re gifting us land on the ranch?”

“A hundred acres to build your own house and start a life,” Dad explained. “You’re going to need the space. That cabin isn’t big enough for you or your family . . . or your goat.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “Oh my God!”

Declan rose from his seat and walked to Dad. Dad moved Tempest to his chair and stood.

“Thank you,” Declan said, his tone somber. He looked at Muddy. “Both of you.”

“Welcome to the family, son,” Dad said.

I watched my boyfriend embrace his future father-in-law and brushed away the tears in my eyes.

Muddy patted my thigh and I all but launched myself at her. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Anything for you, sugar.”

I pulled away. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” Declan asked.

I grinned. “I get more goats!”