Hearts over Bellham by Danita Cahill

Author:Danita Cahill
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: Bellham Romance Series, Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Ridge Publishing
Published: 2014-11-16T23:00:00+00:00

Wow. Where did that come from? That sounded like the old Christopher. The one I fell in love with and married a dozen years ago.

Christopher chuckled. “You don’t have to look so shocked. Have I really turned into such an ogre that an apology is that surprising?”

Yes.

“Well…” Carol hedged, not wanting to admit the truth and turn Christopher’s apology into an argument.

“Look, honey, I know I haven’t been easy to live with this past year. I’ve been worried about keeping the ranch afloat. The economy slumped and the alpaca market dropped with it. Feed prices soared, and we’ve had unexpected vet bills. Instead of sharing my concerns and talking it out I’ve been bottling it up and snapping at you. It’s not your fault.”

“Thank you,” Carol said.

“Thank you?”

“Yes. Thank you for apologizing. It means a lot, and I needed to hear it.”

“I love you, Carol. I’ve always loved you. I don’t want to lose you. Even if we lose the ranch, I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m right here where I’ve always been, with or without the ranch.” Carol looked into her husband’s hazel eyes. The youthful glint was returning – that mischievous, sexy sparkle that first drew her to him all those years ago. “I love you, too.”

Tate brought their soup and salad. Carol poured only a small dab of ranch dressing over her greens. Twenty pounds had crept onto her frame since her wedding day. Graying hair and extra pounds. Growing older is not for sissies.

Christopher doctored his soup with salt and pepper, and smothered his potato with butter and sour cream.

Carol studied him while he was preoccupied with his food. Christopher had also gained weight over the years. Gray strands shot through his dark hair, too.

It’s not like the aging process is only picking on me.

Carol decided to quit beating herself up. Aging was a natural part of life that couldn’t be helped or stopped. She might as well embrace it as best she could. Shoving her thick, graying hair back from her face, Carol inhaled a deep breath. What she was going to say next would probably go over like a lead balloon with Christopher.

“Maybe we should sell some of the alpacas.”

“The market’s soft,” Christopher said, which is exactly what Carol expected him to say.

“I know, but even if we take a loss on the individual animals we’d still have fewer mouths to feed.”

“We’ve just got our herd built up where I want it. Good mothers, excellent herd sires, a promising crop of crias coming along. I’d hate to sell any of them.”

Carol and Christopher never had children. They met and married late, and though they tried for years, they weren’t able to conceive. The alpacas were like their four-legged kids, and they doted on them.

“And we’re emotionally attached to each and every one, I know. But why don’t we sell the yearlings?” Carol said. “We can breed for more babies later, when the market picks back up.”

Christopher nodded slowly. “I’ll see about running an ad in the Alpaca Trade Journal.

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