His face scrunched in concentration as he tried to make his little legs move quicker. Ginger giggled at him and added, “Don’t hurt yourself, Connor.”
The splashing stopped, and Ginger practically lunged toward her phone when it rang. But it wasn’t Greg or Lawrence or Warden Dickerson. “Hey, Emma,” she said, still using that fake tone. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want you to freak out,” Emma said, and that caused Ginger to start freaking out. “But, Jack just called in to say that Scalloped Potato was lying down in her stall this morning.”
“She’s going into labor,” Ginger said immediately. Her adrenaline kicked into gear at the same time her stomach dropped to the pool deck.
“We think so,” Emma said. “Okay, that was a lie. Jack is sure of it. He’s called the vet, and they’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“It’s fine,” Ginger said, wondering if she was going to use a normal voice at all today. “Can you get out there when it’s time and video chat me? I want to see the foal so I can name it.” Ginger liked to be present for all equine births on the ranch, because she could tell a foal’s personality before she named them. And she named all of them.
“Of course,” Emma said. “I was just going to suggest that.”
“How long do you think?”
“Jack didn’t say. I’ll call you back.”
“Thanks, Em.” Ginger hung up and let her phone fall to her lap while she watched Connor start to talk to another little boy that had arrived at the pool. The chair beside Ginger scraped, and another mom sat down.
“How old is your son?” she asked.
Ginger glanced at her and then Connor, trying to decide if this woman needed to know that Connor wasn’t her son. She really didn’t. “Four,” Ginger said.
“Mine too,” she said. “We’re from Chicago.”
“Oh, great,” Ginger said, though she wasn’t particularly great at small talk. She just wanted the BOP to call. The two little boys played well together, and Ginger went back to her books on the screen.
She worked steadily through the financial reports, and everything looked like it was in order. They’d sold an extraordinary amount of hay last month, and Ginger had more money in her ranch account than she’d had in a while.
Turning her attention to the payroll, she simply selected everything and kept the wage the same as last month. She had to go through the extra timecards and the overtime, but those typically weren’t too time-consuming.
“Watch, Ginger,” Connor called, and she looked up from her work. Both boys stood on the pool deck now, and they took a few steps toward the edge of the pool and jumped in, creating double splashes.
The mom next to her started clapping, and she whooped for her son as he came out of the water. Ginger realized she had no idea how to be a mom, though if what she wanted to happen with Nate actually happened, she’d be Connor’s stepmother.
She opened her mouth to tell Connor how amazing his jump was when someone said, “That was amazing, bud.”
She knew that voice.
Ginger turned toward Nate, shock moving through her so fast it rendered her immobile.
“Dad!” Connor ran toward Nate, though running wasn’t allowed in the pool area.
Nate chuckled as the two embraced, and Ginger felt the vibrations of that laugh way down deep in her soul. She stood up, practically throwing her tablet to the cement. She managed to put it in the seat she’d just vacated, her heart pounding so hard it entered every organ.
Nate said something to Connor she didn’t hear, and the little boy nodded. Only then did Nate turn his attention to Ginger.
He looked different somehow, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. He wore jeans and a T-shirt—what anyone would wear. He looked clean, his brown hair swooping to the side while those intense eyes drank her right up.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, glancing toward the door. “Who brought you? Do you—?” She cut off, suddenly remembering they weren’t alone at the pool. She couldn’t look away from Nate, though, to see if the other mom was watching or listening. Of course she was.
“I’ll tell you later.” Nate set Connor down. “Go jump in and show me how you can swim,” he said, and Connor ran off.
Ginger felt frozen though the sun was plenty hot already this morning. She met Nate’s eyes as he focused back on her, and it seemed like both of them moved toward each other at the same time.
He took her easily into his arms, and whispered, “I missed you so much.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said as they started to sway together.
“Thank you for coming to the hearing.” His lips caught on the bottom of her earlobe, and icy shivers ran through Ginger’s body.
“I’m in love with you,” she whispered.
Nate lifted his head and looked at her, a dozen things storming through his bright blue eyes. “I love you, too.”
And finally, finally, he kissed her, and everything in Ginger’s life suddenly made perfect sense.
Chapter Nineteen
Nate had never told a woman he loved her, and he’d never kissed a woman he loved. He’d just done one and was currently doing the other, and he’d never known such joy. How an amazing woman like Ginger could love him, Nate didn’t understand.
But he believed it, because he could feel it in her kiss.
He’d seen the other woman sitting beside Ginger at the pool, so he didn’t kiss her as long as he wanted to. He couldn’t believe the Warden had said he could walk through the hotel to the pool by himself, but he had. Apparently, the guy who owned this hotel used to work at River Bay as a Unit Manager, and when he’d retired from the prison system, he’d bought the hotel. He’d called to say Connor and Ginger were at the pool, and the Warden had simply let Nate get out of the car and walk inside.
No one had looked at him. No one could tell he’d been in prison just by looking at him.
“I have to be back at the ranch tonight,” he said. “It’s part of the release paperwork.”
“Do you have that paperwork?” Ginger asked, turning in his arms and leaning into his body. She kept her arms wrapped around his waist as they watched Connor adjust his goggles and dive under the water again.
“Yes,” Nate said. “I set it on the table back there.”
“So six more months,” Ginger said.
“I’m actually hoping for longer than that,” he said.
“You have always been quite hopeful,” she teased, and Nate liked that there was absolutely no tension between them. No need for more apologies. No wordy declarations. “My hopeful cowboy.”
“Thank you for forgiving me.”
“Thank you for forgiving me,” she repeated. “We’ll go as soon as Spencer gets back.”
“Where is he?”
“You’re never going to believe this,” she said. “But he met a woman at the beach yesterday, and they went to breakfast.”
Nate laughed, and the sound was glorious and wonderful, and Nate wanted to laugh this freely every day for the rest of his life. “Sounds like Spencer.”