“I think it’s sweet to do it this way,” Callie said and winked at Gemma.

“Screw that! It means I’m stuck buying baby shit in yellow, green, brown, and orange,” Gracie said. “Those are shit colors, literally. You want me to shop for things that are the color of shit.”

“You can put a boy in pink,” Callie offered, earning a look of disbelief from her friends.

“Uh, yeah, I have a feeling Travis would have something to say about that. And animal prints. He’s put a strict ban on leopard, tiger, zebra, and cheetah.”

Callie shook her head, a small smile playing across her lips. “So, I guess the babies’ rooms won’t look like the Jungle Room at the Fantasy Inn.”

“Travis wants to wait to decorate until they are born.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Gracie asked doubtfully.

“Since I got to make all of the decisions with Charlie for the first nine years, I am taking the passenger seat on this pregnancy.” Gemma rubbed her rounded stomach with a smile. “Besides, it’s really cute to see how excited Travis is.”

Callie could understand where Gemma was coming from. Due to a lot of miscommunication and distrust, Travis had taken off to become country music’s hottest rock star while Gemma had stayed in Rock Canyon, raising the son he didn’t know he had. When they’d run into each other years later, they had fallen back in love, but those years Travis had lost with their son still rubbed him raw.

“Just remember that these are your babies too, and your opinion counts.” Gracie was always protective of Gemma’s feelings, and Callie admired her loyalty. “Do not let him guilt you into doing something you don’t want.”

“Travis doesn’t guilt me, ever,” Gemma snapped.

“Fine, then don’t guilt yourself,” Gracie shot back.

“Enough,” Callie said, shaking her head. Sometimes, Gemma and Gracie acted more like sisters than best friends with their bickering. “Why don’t we have it the week before Thanksgiving? That gives us a little over four weeks to plan and get the invitations out. And since fall colors are ‘shit colors’ ”—Callie gave Gracie a pointed look—“we’ll need to get creative to make it cute. Maybe we can make a gift-card tree out of a dead tree branch and glue fake leaves and clothespins to it. Maybe put an owl on one of the branches?”

“Oh, owls are so cute!” Gemma said enthusiastically.

“An owl theme would be darling,” Gracie agreed.

“Fabulous.” Callie stood up and gathered the remains of her lunch.

“Where are you off to?” Gracie asked.

“I have a date.”

“With who?” Gemma asked.

“A hot blond guy with big brown eyes who adores me.”

Gracie’s expression was skeptical. “Are you talking about your dog again?”

“Maybe.” Callie picked up Ratchet’s leash from the floor, ignoring their irritated looks.

“You are such a tease.” Gemma rolled her eyes.

“I just like to see you guys get all excited when you think you’re going to hear something juicy.”

“Speaking of gossip, did you read Miss Know It All’s blog this morning?” Gracie said.

Callie snorted. Gracie was obsessed with Miss Know It All, their own small-town gossip girl. MKIA had started off with a column in the local paper over a year ago and had since branched off into an online blog, with a tip line and everything. Many people thought Gracie herself was MKIA, but Callie didn’t think Gracie would take shots at her friends the way MKIA had in the past. Gracie had faults, but stabbing people in the back wasn’t one of them.

She did, however, love gossip of any kind.

“Hmm, looks like Kirsten Winters went home with . . . holy shit!”

Callie stopped at the door, unable to resist anything that surprised the hell out of Gracie. “What is it?”

“Listen to this,” Gracie said and began reading aloud. “ ‘There are a few things you can count on at the annual Rock Canyon Harvest Festival. For instance, Mrs. Andrews will be complaining about something.’ True that.”