Page 199 of Beat of Love
“You’re so worth it,” she said.
And that comment deserved a nice long kiss.
He really was a lucky man.
Which reminded him just how fortunate he really was, and he told her about his earlier conversation with his parents.
And their generous offer.
“Let me get this straight,” she said when he stopped talking. “They want toswaphouses?”
“It makes sense,” he said, and paraphrased his parents’ words to Brandy-Lyn. “We need the space, and they don’t need a rambling seven-bedroomed house. It’s simpler than adding to the cabin like we talked about.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And apparently Mammy’s got herself a place in the new senior center in town and intends to move in a couple of weeks. Says it saves her from Ma’s nagging about driving back and forth.
“And the cabin just needs a few minor tweaks to accommodate Pa. Obviously, the Main House needs some updating, but you’d get to make it your own.”
She leaned back, wiping her hand over her mouth. “Wow,” she whispered. “That’s … generous.”
He couldn’t get a read on her tone, and he bit back his disappointment. The idea had certainly grown on him. “Is that a good generous? Or—”
She placed a finger over his lips. “It’s perfect.”
*
He was a bundle of nerves, like a father awaiting the birth of his first child. Even if the babe was a fawn. Growing up on a ranch, animals’ birth was part of life. But Rosie, the deer he rescued from the side of the road, held a special place in his heart.
“She’s doing good,” Brandy-Lyn murmured, shooting him a quick glance, her voice low and calming, before returning her attention to Rosie.
The mule deer lay on her side in her straw-covered shelter, breathing deep and steady, her sides rippling with each contraction. Crouched behind the deer, her palm resting lightly against Rosie’s flank, Brandy-Lyn continued to whisper encouragement. “You’ve got this, mama.”
Rafferty knelt just behind Brandy-Lyn, quiet and alert, hands resting loosely on his thighs. The intimacy of the moment, the quiet strength of the woman he loved beside him, and the trusting stillness of the deer grounded him in a way nothing else could.
Rosie gave a soft grunt, her legs tensing, then relaxing. Another wave of contraction rippled through her. Brandy-Lyn shifted, brushing Rosie’s neck gently. “There you go, mama. Just one more push.”
And then …
A slender, damp fawn slid gently onto the straw, legs still curled beneath it, ears pressed flat, sides heaving with the first breaths of Texas air.
“It’s a girl,” Brandy-Lyn announced.
“She’s beautiful.” Rafferty said with reverence.
He’d witnessed chaos.
He’d walked through hell.
But this beautiful miracle … was something else entirely.
Rosie lifted her head, nose twitching as she turned toward the fawn. They didn’t intervene — just let the mother do what nature intended. Rosie sniffed the baby gently, severed the umbilical cord in several efficient tugs, and began licking her clean with slow, methodical strokes.
The newborn gave a soft, tentative bleat, and Rafferty’s heart swelled at the sound. Tiny and perfect, the little fawn blinked, ears twitching as she instinctively sought her mother.
Life, fragile and fierce, had made its way into the world again. And he was eternally grateful for the privilege of witnessing it.
“Guess we can call in the troops,” Brandy-Lyn murmured with a soft smile.
“Yeah.” They’d agreed earlier not to let Connor and Nadie witness the birth itself. Just in case something went wrong. But now, with the tiny fawn safely curled beside Rosie and the mother calmly grooming her newborn, it was time to let them share the miracle.
Rafferty stepped away from the shelter to make the call. The spring dusk settled soft and golden over the ranch, the last rays of sunlight filtering through the budding oaks, casting long shadows across the pasture. The air was thick with the scent of warmed earth and fresh hay, the kind of evening that whispered promises of new beginnings.
