Even when he broke her heart.
She’d come to him for help just now, he reminded himself. When she feared for an animal, it was him she’d run to find. She just as easily could have pounded on Boone and Riley’s tiny house door or one of the others. Her instinct had been to seek him out.
Maybe he could still fix what he’d nearly ruined.
He didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t.
“We have to help her,” Avery insisted.
“We can’t. All we can do is be patient. Nature works on its own timetable. Think of Nora. She was due more than two weeks ago.” Walker moved nearer to Avery. Maybe it was unfair; he knew his presence had an affect on her. When he came within a certain distance, Avery couldn’t seem to bridge it the rest of the way. Even now she was reaching her hand toward him. He took it softly in his before she could remember they were supposed to be fighting.
“You’re right.” Avery made a face. Poor Nora was so uncomfortable it was hard to watch. If she didn’t go into labor naturally in the next couple of days, she’d have to be induced.
Heartened by her willingness to talk, Walker gave Avery’s hand a light squeeze. She’d spurned all the gifts he’d given her these past few weeks, making it clear how inadequate they were to make up for the betrayal of his accusation, but yesterday he gave her the fan that had started all the trouble between them, and since then she’d been wary and thoughtful. He hoped she understood he’d never doubt her again.
He wished he could take her into his arms right now. The past year had been a type of agony he’d never known before in his life. Avery so close—and so untouchable at times he thought he was already in hell.
He didn’t want to let her go, but he couldn’t pursue a relationship with her until Elizabeth finally came home, and Elizabeth kept cancelling at the last minute.
He wasn’t even the only one hounding her to come and sort things out. His grandmother, Sue, had been emailing her since the moment his feet touched Chance Creek soil.
“It’s time,” she kept proclaiming. “It’s finally time!”
Time to break that old promise, Walker thought darkly. Time for Elizabeth to finally tell the truth about what she’d said all those years ago. She’d promised to arrive tomorrow, and this time she said she wouldn’t call off her trip.
Sue would be disappointed when she heard what Elizabeth had to say, but she’d have to see that marrying Avery was the only way he could fulfil the promise he’d made to his friends at Base Camp. Sue believed in keeping your word, after all, and he had just over forty days to marry someone in order to secure the ranch.
“She’s in pain.” Avery cut into his thoughts, leaning forward as if she might climb through the fence and soothe Ruth herself.
“She’s getting ready to give birth. It’s uncomfortable, but she’s okay. Ruth will know exactly what to do when it’s time.”
Avery fidgeted in distress, and Walker’s heart went out to her. She felt whatever those around her felt, whether human or beast. Avery wore her heart on her sleeve, and her emotions were as intense as the summer squalls that drifted across the Montana plains.
“What if something goes wrong?”
“It won’t,” he assured her, sending steadiness through his hand into hers, willing her to accept nature’s rhythms the way he did.
She looked up, seemed to notice he was holding her hand and lifted hers as if to pull away. Walker stilled, breathing only when she lowered it again.
“Avery.” He didn’t know how to say everything that was in his heart. How sorry he was for doubting her, how painful it was to know he’d hurt her. “I wish I’d never—”
“But you did.”
She wouldn’t look at him.
“I always—”
She half turned away, and he thought she’d pull free from him. Leave altogether.
Instead, she surged closer to the fence. “What’s happening?” she cried.
Walker held on to her tightly. A herd of bison was a wild force that could be unleashed by any sudden movement. If Avery darted through the fence, her green dress flapping, she’d likely set off a stampede and do more to interfere with this birth than anything else.
“Just watch,” he told her.
A ripple passed over Ruth’s flanks, and another and another. She was close to her time.
“Get ready,” he whispered.
Another ripple.
Ruth gave a low, painful sound, and something poked out of her—a small nose. She gave another lowing sound, and a fierce ripple passed through her flanks.
“Oh!” Avery went up on tiptoe. “Walker!”
Ruth lowed again, her muscles working in waves to expel the baby from her womb. A small, shaggy head emerged along with a tangle of hooves.
“It’s a breech birth!” Avery cried.
“It’s exactly what it should be,” Walker assured her. “Ruth’s got this.”
Avery was clinging to his hand, twisting and turning in a shared agony with the mother.
“Now,” he said, and another ripple of Ruth’s muscles expelled the calf all the way. The tiny bison landed on the ground ungraciously, accompanied by Avery’s cry.
“Is it all right?”
“It’s fine.” He had to put an arm around Avery’s shoulders to restrain her as Ruth turned in a slow circle, nudged her baby with her nose and gave it a good lick. “See, she’s cleaning it up, exactly the way she’s supposed to. Ruth’s a good mom.”
“Of course she is!”
Avery’s fierce shift from terror to indignation made him bite back another smile. “Of course she is,” he affirmed. “She’s a natural.” Just like Avery would be if she ever had children.
Avery leaned into him as her relief overtook her and buried her face against his chest. “You always fix things.” Her words were muffled, but he understood her perfectly and circled his arms around her. He’d learned this, too; she needed to let out her feelings when
