With everyone thinking they were expecting their first babe, maybe he oughta hurry on up and make their marriage official. If he did and she got pregnant, then he wouldn’t have to worry anymore about how to explain she wasn’t in the family way.

The very thought of holding her for as long as he wanted sent flames shooting through his blood. “Good Lord,” he whispered, turning a plea heavenward. He threw open his coat to allow the air to cool him down, and he slipped off his hat to let the breeze ruffle his hair.

If only Steele had kept his big mouth shut and wasn’t so doggone pushy. Yep, he understood Steele wanted to bring his wife and son west. Yep, he understood he’d shaken hands with Steele and told him he’d have a real marriage. And yep, he understood Steele had already carried through on his part of the bargain by contacting the breeder in Missouri.

Trouble was, Wyatt couldn’t rush Greta before she was ready, especially into having a babe. It wouldn’t be right, no matter how much he liked her, and she liked him.

The big question was, did she like him enough to stay?

He patted his pocket and the ring again. It was about time to find out.

The last hour of the ride seemed to take days. By the time he drove the cow into the yard between the cabin and barn, his chest was near to hurting with the need to see her. Judd had heard him coming and was already limping toward the corral gate.

By the fading light of the evening, Wyatt watched the cabin door, waiting for Greta to make her appearance. She’d likely be wiping her hands on her apron, busy with another one of her projects.

But as he moved the new cow into the corral, the door remained closed.

“First calf heifer?” Judd gave a curt nod toward the new milking cow.

“Yep, she oughta have some good breeding years left.” Wyatt’s sights again strayed to the cabin, and he waited for the door to open, warm light to spill outside, and Greta to welcome him with one of her heart-stopping smiles.

But the cabin was quiet, almost too still. If the curl of smoke hadn’t been rising from the stovepipe, he would have assumed no one was inside. Maybe she wasn’t as excited to see him as he was her.

“How’d things go?” He followed the cow into the corral.

“Astrid’s been in a bad way.” Judd’s voice was low, and the grooves in his leathery face cut deep.

“Worse than usual?”

Judd closed the gate and took his time latching it. “Not much.”