A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(62)
Author: Brenda Novak

The old man smiled, his eyes twinkling.

“How’d you know I’d rise to the occasion?” Conner asked.

“I didn’t. I took a chance on something I love—someone I love. You and your mother have always been special to me.” He moved toward the exit and clapped a hand on Conner’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get out of here before your uncles figure out they just bet against the wrong man.”

A warmth filled Conner, a warmth that started from somewhere deep inside him. So much of his future remained uncertain. He wasn’t sure his uncles had bet against the wrong man. But he knew he was back on the right path. At last.

Shoving off from the wall, he buttoned his shirt and fastened his tie as he said, “You knew Stephen and the others would agree, didn’t you.”

“I wasn’t too worried about it.” He winked. “I still had ultimate control of this ranch, and I would’ve sold it to you with or without their approval. But this is better. They won’t have anyone to blame but themselves, and maybe they’ll realize what fools they’ve been. At least, I hope they will.” He sighed heavily. “It’s hard to believe I could have three sons who think so differently from the way I do.”

Conner chuckled. “Maybe blood isn’t everything.”

“Isn’t that the truth? And yet, I can’t give up on them, either.” His grandfather shook his head, then took hold of Conner’s hand and gazed down at the ring his mother had given him. “You get this from Vivian?”

Conner nodded, and his grandfather smiled. “Used to be mine,” he said. “Back when I wore such things. Your grandma bought it for me.”

“Would you like it back?” Conner asked.

“No, I’d rather you kept it,” he said. “She loved you as much as I always have.”

CONNER’S SENSE OF RIGHTNESS lasted for a whole fifteen minutes or so, then fell apart as soon as he arrived at the church. Already filled to overflowing, the small New England-style chapel held many faces he recognized, and many he did not. Ralph Lawson hovered near the door at the back, looking a bit lost without Millie, who was probably in some antechamber with Rebecca and Delaney and his mother. The old folks he’d met at the Lawson house a few weeks ago—Ruby, Lula and Vern—occupied the second row on the right, along with a few other seniors, all dressed to the nines and wearing corsages or boutonnieres. And Katie, the young woman he’d seen at the salon the day he’d realized Delaney lived in Dundee, smiled widely when he caught her eye, then nudged the woman sitting next to her.

On the left sat his grandfather and uncles, along with Grady, Ben and Isaiah from the ranch, and Josh and Mike Hill. Dottie had returned from Salt Lake just in time for the wedding. Carrying a stack of photographs of the new baby, which she showed to anyone willing to look, she clucked over his brothers’ children, who took up the bench beside her. Only Roy wasn’t in the congregation. Conner had made Roy stand up with him. And a sidelong glance told him his foreman wasn’t particularly happy about it.

“How much longer before we get this show on the road?” he growled, stretching his neck and yanking on his tie.

Conner swallowed a chuckle. “Should be any minute now.”

“And to think I was betting you’d leave town inside of three months,” Roy replied. “Good thing I didn’t put any money on it.”

“You said yourself this ranch is the perfect place to raise a child,” Conner reminded him. “I’m taking your advice.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known it would land me in a damn monkey suit.”

The Reverend Parker, a man Conner had just met, was standing on Conner’s other side.

He gave Roy a reproachful look, and Roy quickly apologized. “Sorry for the language, Rev.”

“All the more reason to attend services,” he responded.

Roy stretched his neck again and looked longingly at the door, mumbling something about changing his ways. “That’s probably the right of it, Rev.”

“Then, we’ll see you on Sunday, will we not?”

“I’ll be here,” Roy said. He sent Conner an accusing glare, and Conner couldn’t help laughing.

“That goes for you, too, Mr. Armstrong,” the reverend said, and Conner felt the full weight of the man’s will pushing him toward God. But he didn’t have time to respond or even feel guilty about his fifteen-year lapse in church attendance. The organ burst into a crescendo behind him, Rebecca hurried forward to take her place on the opposite side of the altar, and Millie and his mother found their seats. Delaney finally appeared at the back of the chapel, pale and almost ethereal in a simple white dress with long sleeves, a straight narrow skirt and no train.

She looked beautiful as she gazed up the aisle. Dignified. Sophisticated. Yet fragile. She nearly stole Conner’s breath as their eyes met, but he couldn’t help wondering if she was as terrified as he was.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he put an encouraging smile on his face and told himself that everything was going to be fine. So what if marrying and starting a family was completely contrary to anything he’d imagined himself doing in the next five years? So what if he’d just gambled his entire inheritance on a losing ranch? He loved that ranch. And…and he hoped he could grow to love this woman. From the crowded pews, it certainly looked as though he’d be in good company if he did. Even the mayor had come for her wedding. Conner had heard his grandfather greet Mayor Wells earlier.

Delaney slipped her hand into the crook of Ralph’s arm, and he led her up the aisle to the accompaniment of “The Wedding March.” Here comes the bride…here comes the bride…

With each step, Conner felt his tie growing tighter.

What do you think you’re doing? You’re not cut out for this. You’ll never make her a good husband, never be able to give her and the baby what they need….

Blood isn’t everything…

I took a chance on something I love—someone I love….

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade….

And if the ranch isn’t profitable in five years? What then?

Then she’d know she shouldn’t have bet her future on him.

Conner closed his eyes, took a deep breath and felt Roy nudge him.

“If you back out now, I’ll kill ya,” he murmured. “I’m not standing here making a spectacle of myself for nothing.”