Page 70 of Country Contract

“Good mornin’, ladies,” Harrison calls from Hunter’s deck. When I turn to look at him, my eyes go wide. He’s got Blake in his arms, smiling in our direction. Her angelic face takes us in and offers a look of suspicion before recognition registers and she smiles. She’s wearing a fleece pullover, leggings, and a small pair of cowgirl boots. He’s wearing a wool-lined corduroy jacket, dark jeans, and a different cowboy hat than the one he had at the bar.

Devastatingly handsome, as usual.

“Oh!” Meg yells, and I look over to see her hunched over, holding her stomach. I’m about to rush over to her when she holds up one hand and strains against the air. “My . . . ovaries!” she yells, and I practically die of embarrassment. My face turns bright red. Yes, he looks downright perfect holding B in his country getup. But the scene she ismaking is so her. Actually, it’s so Harrison, too. I roll my eyes at her and turn to look back at Harrison.

He's whispering something to B and laughing.

“Harlow, tell your friend to get her uterus under control! I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Come on up.” Harrison doesn’t wait for a response; he just turns on his heel and heads into the house.

“How do you get surrounded by hot men? Only you would go to the middle of nowhere and end up staying on a knockout’s property. And with that baby on his hip! I might book that bunkhouse after you.” I know she’s joking, but she would be the perfect fit for Harrison. The only issue is outside of the men, she wouldn’t like it here. She needs more people, more activities, more movement. Personality-wise, those two are peas in a pod. That’s probably why I get along with Harrison so well.

We walk into the main house, which is surprisingly empty. Blake runs around the corner, and I scoop her up into a hug.

“Hey, sweet B.” I blow a raspberry on her cheek. Meg holds her arms out, but she turns into me, not wanting to be shared. Feeling bad, I go to put her back down, but she pulls her legs up, refusing to let her feet touch the floor. I don’t fight it, and we all walk into the kitchen together.

There are already two mugs of hot coffee on the counter with a sugar jar, some chocolate and caramel syrup, milk, and a spoon. I go to fix my own cup one-handed, but Harrison stops me and points to the coffee that is just a shade lighter in color.

“I already made yours,” he states. “What are you two up to today?”

Meg gives a Cheshire cat smile and fixesher own cup. “I fly back home tonight, so we’re just walking the property a little.”

Harrison tells her about his favorite spots, some of the history, and future plans. I listen, even though he’s told me most of all this over the last week. He and Meg run their mouths; their optimism and continuous “and what if” conversations are a little exhausting. I could interrupt them and be a voice of reason, but I don’t want to burst their bubble. They’re having fun.

Blake starts to get restless and bored with their conversation, so I make my way to the front room where there is a plethora of toys. I sit on the floor and place her next to me, but she moves into my lap.

“What’s going on, baby girl?” I soothe her, noticing that she is looking for extra comfort and company today.

She doesn’t play much. She flips the pages of a board book back and forth, busying her hands rather than looking at the pictures. I’ve tried to read to her, but she’s too restless. Harrison and Meg eventually make their way into the room.

“Where are Hunter and Cassidy?” I ask.

“They went out to run errands today because they didn’t yesterday. She was hungover, and you know how Hunter dotes. He barely got anything done.” Harrison rolls his eyes, but I know when he’s married, he will do the exact same. Here he is now, doting on B.

“What’s wrong with B? She seems off,” I ask just as she puts the book down and turns toward me, opening her arms.

“She’s tired and won’t go down for a nap. I guess she’s been going through a sleep regression at night, and it’s causing some daytime attitude.” As if Blake can tell Harrison is talking about her, she scowls at him. I suppress a laugh because it’s exactly the kind of face Cassidy would make.

Scooping her up in my arms, I try to make her comfortable, but she looks for a plushness on my chest that does not exist. She turns her head every which way, trying to get comfortable. Looking over at Meg, I think she might be a better option. The chest on that girl is abundant. Walking over to her, I try and do a hand-off, but Blake denies any attempts. Harrison also tries to take her to go rock her upstairs, but she fusses.

“Show me where the rocker is,” I say as Blake rubs her face into my sternum. Harrison leads me up the stairs to Blake’s room and I survey the space. It is a subtle yet beautifully decorated room. Soft. Welcoming. Sweet. Everything I’m not.

How can B be so comfortable with me when I’m not warm and fuzzy?

I sit down on the rocker, and Harrison hands me a stuffed rabbit and blanket.

“Thanks.” Instead of wrapping Blake in her blanket, I create a makeshift pillow on my chest and then wrap the remaining material around her. She plays with the ears of her bunny and settles herself. It only takes a few moments before she’s comfortable.

Looking over to Harrison, he watches us with a quizzical look on his face.

“Do you want to try and take her?”

He shakes his head gently in response. “Are you uncomfortable?”

I shake my head. Blake is settling herself deeply into me, and I feel her somehow becoming heavier as if she is just letting herself go.

“She’ll probably give us hell if we try to move her. Want me to help you lay her down?”

I shake my head again and begin to rock the chair. “Gohang out with Meg. I’ll try and lay her down. If she wakes up, I’ll hand her off to you,” I say in a hushed tone.

---