Page 16 of White Collar Rancher

As he carefully released Isaiah from the wrap, he recommitted to his no-women declaration. While he was chin-deep in diapers and nap times, his libido would have to stay on maternity leave.

Cradling the phone against her shoulder, she gazed at the chart on the screen in front of her. She was tucked away in her office. The door was closed. Any crying wouldn’t be witnessed.

What she was getting told on the phone only made it harder to steel herself against the flood of tears.

“It’s up to you,” Justin said. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, but he’s settled into a nice routine. Three nights of no-crying fits. Think we’re in the clear?”

Until teething started, but she didn’t want to scare the poor guy. He sounded so hopeful. “He’s almost three months old. He might be growing out of it.”

Those last three nights, she’d had wine with Justin in his living room. They’d discussed Maisy’s parents. His mom and dad and siblings. She’d talked about her sister. They were experts at chatting for hours without really diving deep into themselves. They reminisced about high school. She still had never confessed her feelings for him. Sitting across from him while he lounged in yet another pair of pajama pants, with his hair adorably rumpled and his beard inspiring all kinds of questions about how it’d feel against her skin, she always played it cool.

And the man had the best stash of wine.

She took a swig of her cold tea just to forget how much she enjoyed their time together. “I’ll have my phone on me if you need help.”

“I appreciate it. If I can get a handle on the nights, then maybe I can figure out how to ranch as a single dad.”

That’d be harder.

Before he disconnected, she blurted, “Tell me how tomorrow goes.”

He was going to the Jorgensons’. She worried for him. For them. For Isaiah, who she hoped wouldn’t be pulled into the middle of any drama. Justin would move on with his life, meet someone else, maybe settle down. Her chest tightened at the picture in her head of his idyllic future. A scruffy Justin with his arm around another petite blond like Maisy, his adorable son running around at their feet. She wanted him to have a big, happy family. Even if she wasn’t a part of it.

And why would she be? Justin didn’t need her anymore and he was calling to tell her so. And even if he did want her around—what kind of message would pursuing her deceased patient’s ex send to her decreasing patient base? Not everyone knew she and Justin had gone to school together and had their own history.

“Will do.” Was it selfish to hate that he was building a comfort zone and not seeking her out? Then they’d go back to being friends, but not the close type that hung out all evening.

She wanted him to call her because he wanted to be with her. But that wasn’t what their relationship was about.

Slipping her phone back into her purse, she squeezed her eyes shut for a heartbeat. Her next appointment was in fifteen minutes and she couldn’t run from the results in front of her.

She’d have to tell the patient that she was losing her pregnancy. The mom was new to her, and this wasn’t the news Priya had wanted to start their relationship with. Nor was she looking forward to the talk about polycystic ovary syndrome, but she couldn’t find that the woman had been treated for it. Yet the signs were there.

An alert popped up on her screen. The patient was here and ready.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she mulled over her recent conversation. How comforting would it be to go to his place tonight, pour the wine, and spill all the stresses of her workday? After the next hour, when she had to tell someone some of the worst news of her life, Priya could use a trusted confidant, a shoulder to sob on in private, HIPPA be damned.

Part of the allure of moving home to work was that her parents were here. They knew all about how hard this job could be, and she could turn to them during these early years when she was still developing her own coping skills with the tragedies she faced. If they were ever around.

But Mom and Dad had surprised themselves with a weeklong trip to Mexico and were leaving tonight. This trip was a prelude to the cruise they had planned in March. And who knew where else they were going for the holidays? One thing Priya had gleaned from her brief conversations with them was that, with their kids off on their own careers, they didn’t do many holidays at home. And they didn’t plan to start just because Priya lived in Moore. At least they were spending Thanksgiving together.

Because it was only her.

If Devya flew to the U.S., Mom and Dad would plan the biggest holiday bash Moore had seen—the perks of being a free spirit instead of dependable and predictable. People relied on Priya when they needed her, and when they didn’t, they left.

Justin was no different than anyone else in her life.

Chapter 7

The house looked exactly the same as it had years ago, the last time he’d visited. He hadn’t been to the Jorgensons’ as an adult. Maisy had tried to get him here, one of her many attempts to cocoon him in her web. He’d purposely kept his distance while maintaining civility he hadn’t felt.

But here he was now.

Their rambler was comfortable. Familiar, with its twenty-year-old furniture and off-white paint job. He should’ve come to visit before, during, or after the funeral. All the reasons he couldn’t dimmed now that he was here.

Lunch was finished, thank God. The most awkward meal he’d eaten in years. Isaiah had fallen asleep on the way to town and he’d suggested they leave him be. Let Isaiah rest and he’d be more cheerful when it came to holding and playing with him.

He’d regretted his request when talk had turned to Maisy, him and Maisy, and the circumstances around Isaiah’s birth. The discussion had been long overdue, and it had gone better than Justin imagined. He had a newfound respect for Katherine and Martin, and how they’d tried to help their daughter.

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