A Bride for the Bronc Rider (Brush Creek Brides Book 3) by Liz Isaacson

Author:Liz Isaacson [Isaacson, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AEJ Creative Works
Published: 2017-07-24T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

April stared at the hail bouncing into the homestead. The front door swung in the wind. Her phone slipped from her fingers as she moved as fast as her eight-months-pregnant body would allow. She thought she’d seen a flash of Ted’s black cowboy hat, and horror filled her as she thought about what she’d said last.

She burst out of the house and onto the front porch. Ted had already crossed the lane, his head bent against the weather as he practically ran from the homestead. She called after him, but the driving hail swallowed her voice before it even left her throat. She watched him until he disappeared into his cabin.

How much had he heard?

A chill made her blood like ice, and she stepped back into the house and closed the door. The furnace blew warm air now that the front entrance had been open for a few minutes, and she retrieved her phone from the kitchen floor where she’d dropped it. The call had been disconnected, and her screen bore a hairline crack right across the middle of it. April stared at it, feeling very much like her life had just been split wide open.

She paced in the living room, the baby kicking her and her back aching along with her head. And her heart. Sleep would help a lot of her physical problems, but that had eluded her more and more often as the baby continued to grow.

Five weeks. She had five weeks until the baby came, and she still had nothing on the horizon as a for-sure future. With every passing day, she’d fallen a little further in love with Ted, but even her relationship with him hung by a thread.

A sour taste worked its way up her throat and she filled a glass with water and gulped it. The hail petered out, and April felt trapped by the walls of the homestead. She stepped out onto the porch, the smell of wet cement greeting her. She gazed toward the red rock butte in the distance, remembering when she’d stood on the top of it, looking back this way.

She hadn’t spoken the whole truth when she’d told her mother ranch life didn’t suit her. She didn’t particularly enjoy the ranching aspect of living on a ranch, but she did enjoy the solitude, the privacy, the stillness in the very air. She liked that there was no gossipy neighbors discussing how large she’d gotten, that she could still get her girly fix with Megan, Tess, and Renee. They apparently got together every month without their husbands, and April had attended the last get-together at Tess’s place.

There had been more chocolate than April thought four women could consume. But consume it they did. Her favorite had been the chocolate dipped dill pickle potato chips—a pregnant woman’s dream come true.

The sky threatened to open again, and April pressed her eyes closed. What should I do? she prayed. She’d put off asking God for the guidance she desperately needed, choosing instead to focus on getting back into His good graces.

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