by Lara Lacombe
Molly touched the bump on her head with gentle fingers. “The swelling has actually gone down.”
“It looks terrible,” Elaine said snidely.
Instead of replying, Molly sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee. She gestured to the pot. “Help yourself.”
Mason looked horrified as she raised the cup to her lips and took that first fortifying sip. “What?” she asked, frowning at him.
“Are you sure you should be drinking that in your condition?”
A chill shot through her limbs at his words. “What do you mean, my condition?” Did he know about the baby? How was that possible? She hadn’t told anyone but Max and John, the man who’d lifted her to safety yesterday. She couldn’t imagine either one of them had been in contact with Mason...
“There’s an article in today’s paper that says you’re pregnant.” He studied her face as he dropped this little bombshell.
“What?” Molly felt the color drain from her face. She leaned back against the counter, gripping the edge with her free hand. “Let me see.”
Mason pulled out his phone, typed on the screen for a few seconds. Molly felt Elaine’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t meet her sister-in-law’s gaze.
She wasn’t ready for people to know about the baby. She’d barely told Max, and he was the father! A sense of panic gripped her, squeezing her ribs until it was hard to breathe. She’d hoped for privacy while she and Max figured out what to do next. The situation was difficult enough without adding public scrutiny to the mix.
“Here it is,” Mason said. He handed his phone over, and she stared at the screen, blinking to focus on the text.
The article was a rundown of yesterday’s events, detailing the rescue with a sort of breathless tone that was perhaps better suited to a tabloid than a serious newspaper. She bristled at the description of her “clinging desperately to the mountain man of a rescuer, gratitude and attraction shining in her eyes.” But the real kicker was the last paragraph:
But perhaps more than two lives were saved today? This reporter overheard a conversation between Maxwell Hollick, charity mogul, and an unidentified man. It sounds like Ms. Gilford is in the family way. What’s more? Max Hollick might be the father! What does all this mean for Mr. Hollick’s charity organization, K-9 Cadets? Will a little human soon be joining the dog pack? Time will tell!
Molly turned to face the counter, setting down her coffee and the phone before she dropped either.
“So it’s true?” Mason asked quietly.
She nodded.
Behind her, she heard Elaine suck in a breath.
“Is Maxwell Hollick the father?” Mason asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered.
“Of course it does!” her brother exclaimed. “I read up on this guy, Mols. He’s ex-Special Forces and apparently quite well-known for his charity work. How on earth did you meet him?” His tone was skeptical, as if he couldn’t quite believe a man like Max would ever be interested in a woman like her.
Anger bubbled in her chest. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
Mason ignored her warning tone. “Why don’t you want to talk about him? Are you ashamed?”
Molly turned to face her brother again. “No,” she said, her voice lethally quiet.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell us about this earlier.” He flung out his arms and began to pace the length of her kitchen. “We’re your family, Molly. We could have helped you.”
“I didn’t want any help,” she replied.
Mason’s reaction was a perfect example of why she hadn’t told her family about the baby. Her brother meant well, but since her parents had retired to spend their golden years traversing the country in their state-of-the-art luxury RV, he had appointed himself “head of the family.” It was a nice thought, but Molly didn’t need her younger brother lecturing her about her life choices. Their sister, Sabrina, felt the same way. She’d recently graduated from college, but rather than return to Roaring Springs to settle down in a job, she’d elected to stay in Denver and live with some friends. Molly was happy for her younger sister, but according to some texts she’d received from Sabrina, Mason wanted her to come home.
“Molly—” he began, but she cut him off before he could start up again.
“Enough,” she said, making a slashing gesture with her hand. “I’m not going to discuss this with you.”
Mason snapped his mouth shut, a hurt look entering his blue eyes. He stared at her for a moment, as if expecting her to say or do something. But Molly simply returned his gaze, refusing to engage with him on this issue.
Sighing softly, he reached behind her to retrieve his phone from the counter. “May I use your bathroom before we go?” He sounded subdued, almost disappointed.
“Of course.”
He walked away, leaving her alone with Elaine.
Molly turned to face her sister-in-law. Elaine was no stranger to the little tensions that flared up between the Gilford siblings. Still, Molly hated to argue in front of her.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said, the words trailing off as she saw the look on Elaine’s face.
The other woman was staring at her belly with a look of such naked yearning it broke Molly’s heart. Oh, no, she thought, guilt washing over her like a tidal wave.
It was no secret Mason and Elaine had been trying for a baby. A few months ago, Mason had mentioned they were having trouble in that department, but he’d waved away Molly’s expressions of sympathy.
“It’ll happen eventually,” he’d said confidently.
But given Elaine’s current expression, it seemed things were still not working out the way they wanted.
Molly reached for the other woman, intent on comforting her. Elaine jerked away, her eyes flickering up to Molly’s face. “Don’t touch me!” she snapped.
“Elaine, I’m so sorry,” Molly began.
She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “Is that right? Well, I guess that just makes everything better now, doesn’t it?”
Not knowing what to say, Molly pivoted to pick up her coffee cup. When she glanced back, Elaine’s look had turned to one of disgust.
“I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis. “Mason and I have wanted a baby for so long. I know he told you. But did you know how long we’ve been trying? Two years. Two years of disappointment after disappointment, with nothing to show for our efforts. Do you know how many times I’ve been poked and prodded? How many painful procedures I’ve gone through, all in an attempt to figure out why my body doesn’t work the way it should?”
Molly said nothing, knowing there were no words that could offer the other woman any comfort.
“And then,” Elaine continued, her voice rising in pitch and volume, “you get yourself knocked up on what amounts to little more than a glorified one-night stand! Tell me how that’s fair?”
Molly inwardly cringed at her sister-in-law’s description of events, but didn’t respond.
“You don’t even want this baby, do you?” Elaine threw the question out like a gauntlet, a challenge of sorts that Molly knew she couldn’t win.
“That’s not true.” But even as she uttered the words, a memory flashed in her mind. Seeing those two lines pop up on the pregnancy test had filled her with doubt and worry, and for a time, Molly had vacillated between her options. Shock and stress had kept her from feeling like a mother, made her question if she even wanted to be one at this time in her life.
Things had changed during her first OB appointment. They’d performed an ultrasound to make sure everything looked okay so far, and Molly had seen the baby for the first time. She hadn’t been much to look at then—she’d had the appearance of a small gray gummy bear. But the instant Molly had seen the image, a fierce love had filled her, smothering all her doubts and worries.
Now? She couldn’t wait to meet her daughter, to hold her for the first time and kiss her petal-soft cheeks. Just the thought of it warmed her from the inside and made her want to smile.
Elaine ignored her protest. “Oh, please.” She grabbed a paper towel from the roll on the counter and dabbed her eyes. Molly ached to hug her, but knew the other woman wouldn’t welcome the gesture.
“And the worst part?” Her sister-in-law wrapped her arms around herself, shaking a little as she did. “Mason would make such a wonderful father. Your baby daddy probably can’t even be bothered to return your calls.”
That barb hit a little too close to home. Tears pricked Molly’s eyes. “I didn’t do this to hurt you,” she said. “I love you and Mason too much to ever deliberately cause you pain.”
Elaine met her gaze, her green eyes wide and red-rimmed. “That should have been my baby,” she sniffed. “Not yours.”
Frustration welled in Molly’s chest, testing the limits of her sympathy. “My pregnancy has no bearing on your ability to have a baby. It’s not like there are only a finite amount of babies to go around—you and Mason can still get pregnant.”
“No, we can’t,” she said flatly. “We’ve exhausted all of our options. The fertility treatments didn’t work, and we can’t afford to keep trying.”
The revelation shocked Molly into silence for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry,” she said finally. “I had no idea.”
Elaine didn’t say anything—she simply stared into space. Molly wasn’t certain the other woman had even heard her.
The silence in the kitchen was broken by Mason’s return. He half stumbled into the room, clutching his phone in one hand. His expression was a combination of shock and disbelief, and his face was so pale Molly instinctively reached for him, fearing he might fall down.
“What is it?” she asked. Her heart started to pound—something was clearly wrong with her brother.
He shook his head, as if trying to fling off a net. “The avalanche,” he said. “It’s uncovered the bodies of several women.”
“Oh, no,” Molly cried. “That’s terrible.” She frowned, confused. “But I thought the rescuers said yesterday there weren’t any fatalities?”
“These are...old bodies,” Mason said, grimacing. “Victims.”
Molly shook her head. It was unsettling news to be sure, but why was Mason so distraught?
“There’s more, isn’t there?” A stone of worry formed in her stomach as apprehension sent a chill down her spine.
Mason nodded, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Sabrina,” he whispered.
Their sister’s name sent a jolt through Molly. Denial welled up even as the logical part of her brain acknowledged the truth. “No.” She shook her head, taking a step back. “No, no, no.”
Mason rubbed his eyes with one hand, his voice muted when he spoke again.
“One of the bodies is hers. She’s dead.”
* * *
Furbert bounded down the trail looking like his joints were made of springs as he darted from one tree to another, stopping here to sniff, there to mark his territory. Max ambled along behind him, happy to let the dog burn off the excess energy he’d acquired from being cooped up inside yesterday afternoon and last night.
The B and B had been a nice place to stay, all things considered. Max had taken a hot shower and climbed into the too-soft bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow. It was a skill he’d retained from his soldiering days—even though his mind was occupied with a million different thoughts and worries, his body was trained to sleep whenever it got the opportunity.
He’d woken a few hours ago, his brain immediately starting up the soundtrack of questions and what-ifs that had plagued him since yesterday’s revelations. But before he could indulge in some heavy-duty thinking, he’d first needed to make sure Furbert was okay.
Fortunately, Blaine’s predictions had been correct. The road up the mountain had been clear, and the cab hadn’t had any trouble taking him to The Lodge. Furbert had been excited to see him, practically dancing in place as Max had entered the cabin. Max had been pleased to find that fresh water and food had been set out for the dog, and furthermore, Furbert hadn’t had any accidents on the carpet. Not wanting to tempt fate, Max had taken the dog for a walk before even bothering to change his clothes.
Now, as he breathed in the fresh, cool air and felt the pleasant burn of exercise in his legs, Max’s head began to clear.
He was going to be a father.
A weight settled over him once again as he recalled the image on the sonogram screen: a tiny baby, arms and legs and hands and feet all immediately recognizable. The curve of chin and nose, the slope of the belly and roundness of the head; all parts there. All perfectly formed.
Real.
And part of him.
He knew that, too, without a doubt. Even if Molly had been with other men in the times they’d been apart, it didn’t make sense for her to try to pin this pregnancy on him if he wasn’t the real father. He was wealthy, yes, but he knew she had a trust fund so money wasn’t an issue for her. Given their geographic separation, she’d be better off claiming a local man as the father rather than him. As much as he was stunned by the existence of this baby, he couldn’t deny it was his.
So what should his next move be? And moreover, what did Molly expect of him?
Marriage was off the table. After his relationship with Beth had fallen apart, Max had come to the realization that he wasn’t cut out for being a husband. It wasn’t in his nature to be fully committed to more than one thing at once. He was so wrapped up in his work with K-9 Cadets, he simply didn’t have the time or the energy to expend on a full-blown relationship.
But...he couldn’t leave Molly to raise their daughter alone. He wanted to be a part of the baby’s life, wanted to know her and have her know him in return. He wasn’t going to be one of those deadbeat dads who only saw their kid once or twice a year, if at all. He’d had a good relationship with his own father, and wanted the same for his child, as well.
So how was he going to reconcile the demands of his work with the responsibilities of being a dad? Moreover, where did he and Molly go from here? Did they have a future together as a couple, or were they destined to remain connected only by virtue of their child? It was the million-dollar question, the one he had to find an answer for before this visit was over.
A rabbit streaked across the path, flushed from the undergrowth by Furbert’s inquisitive explorations. The dog let out a happy yip and shot after the small creature, plunging headlong into the bushes.
“Furbert!” The last thing Max needed was to lose sight of his dog on the mountain. He wasn’t familiar enough with the terrain to feel comfortable letting Furbert run loose, even if the dog was having the time of his life.
A niggle of worry tickled the base of Max’s spine as the seconds ticked by with no sign of the canine. Then he heard the bushes shake and let out a sigh of relief. The months of obedience training had been worth it—Furbert trotted back onto the trail, his demeanor nonchalant despite the fact that he was coated in mud from his belly down.
“Really, buddy?” Max asked with a sigh. Time to head back to the cabin so they could both get cleaned up.
Furbert put up a token protest at the sight of the bathtub, but Max was able to coax him in with a little effort. After his own shower, Max flipped on the television, wanting some background noise as he dressed.
An attractive woman was on the screen, talking about the avalanche. “—gruesome discovery,” she was saying. “So far, several bodies have been recovered, and authorities say there could be more.”
Max stopped in front of the television, his attention captured. What was she talking about? Blaine had said there were no fatalities from yesterday’s scare. Had he been misinformed?
“How long have the bod
ies been hidden?” asked a news anchor from off-screen.
The woman frowned into the camera. “That’s just it, Clark. Authorities are telling me some of the bodies look like they’ve been buried for years, while others seem to have been placed more recently.” She held her hand up to her ear, listening for a few seconds. “Clark, I can now confirm that the identity of one of the bodies is that of Sabrina Gilford, a young local woman who recently graduated from college.”
“Was she ever reported missing?” asked the anchor.
“No,” replied the woman. “Our sources say she was not listed as a missing person.”
The news anchor and reporter continued their back-and-forth, but Max couldn’t hear them over the rush of blood in his ears.
Sabrina Gilford. Molly’s sister.
Did she already know her sister’s body had been found? God, he hoped so. The thought that she had learned about her sister’s death from a news report made him simultaneously heartsick and angry.
He threw on some clothes, a sense of urgency pushing him forward. He had to get to Molly, had to know if she was okay. She must be devastated—he couldn’t let her suffer alone.
“Let’s go,” he called to Furbert as he shoved his feet into shoes. After yesterday’s accident, he wasn’t leaving the dog alone in the cabin any longer than necessary. But beyond that, he wasn’t certain if Molly would allow him to comfort her. If she wanted nothing to do with him, she might at least respond to Furbert...
He clipped the leash onto the dog’s collar, then set off quickly down the path for the main lodge. Keeping one eye on the ground, he thumbed through the contacts on his phone until he pulled up Blaine’s number.
“Yeah?” Max could tell by the tone of his friend’s voice he had heard the news.
“Can you take me to Molly?”
“I spoke to her earlier this morning. She doesn’t want company.”
“Please,” Max said, dodging a low-hanging branch. “I won’t bother her. I just want to bring Furbert for her.”
Blaine sighed heavily. “Okay. But promise me you won’t try to argue if she wants you to leave.”