That cataclysmic night had consequences neither of them had anticipated when a home pregnancy test turned out to be positive a short month later. At first, Jessie couldn’t decide whether she should locate Zach and tell him their night together had had unexpected results.
The question had haunted her.
She’d spent the years since Chase went to jail vowing vengeance on the Kerrigans. Chase hadn’t come home immediately after he was released. Instead, he’d taken a job as a bounty hunter with an agency owned by the brother of a prison guard he’d befriended. Up until a year ago, Chase had lived in Seattle and during his infrequent visits home, he wasn’t the brother she remembered from her childhood. He seemed a hard and dangerous man employed in a violent business, his emotions locked behind an impenetrable wall. And it broke her heart. She was tortured by the guilt of betraying Chase by sleeping with the enemy. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her beloved brother that his nephew’s father was a Kerrigan.
But buried deep within her was the conviction that the night she’d spent with Zach had been more than an impetuous fling. Zach clearly hadn’t felt the same earthshaking connection she had. Was it likely he’d have even wanted to know she was pregnant?
She couldn’t imagine how she could have told her parents they’d have to share their first long-awaited grandchild with the family they hated. And how would they have felt about her baby, knowing despised Kerrigan blood ran through his veins? Jessie was convinced her parents and brothers would never purposely treat her child differently because of Zach’s family, but how could she be sure the feud between the families wouldn’t subconsciously color their view of her baby?
It took two long, sleepless weeks to reach a decision. In the end, she’d decided not to try to contact Zach but instead, she told her parents she’d married a fellow student in a quick Las Vegas wedding, only to divorce just as easily six weeks later. She confided the truth about the fictitious marriage only to her mother and even then, she didn’t reveal the identity of her baby’s father.
It had been a complicated plan but Jessie had thought it was necessary. And she’d told herself she would make the decision to tell Zach he was a father if the opportunity arose and if she thought he’d care, although she knew that wasn’t likely to ever happen. Zach had left Wolf Creek at eighteen and, as far as she was aware, he’d never been back.
After she’d finished law school and Rowdy was two years old, she’d returned to Wolf Creek to set up her law practice and build a life for herself and her son.
I may have to tell Zach about Rowdy at some point, she thought, but if I do, it’s not going to happen at dinner with his sister and my brother present.
Rachel and Luke’s marriage had created a bridge between the two families, over which various members of the McClouds and Kerrigans had cautiously crossed. Jessie genuinely liked Rachel but she couldn’t imagine her sister-in-law being pleased to learn that Jessie had kept it a secret that Rowdy was her nephew. Let alone how Zach would feel about the news.
The McClouds’ acceptance of Rachel didn’t extend to the rest of the Kerrigan clan. Jessie didn’t want to contemplate how her brothers might react if they learned Zach Kerrigan was Rowdy’s father. She’d refused to reveal anything about her son’s biological father beyond the tale of the nonexistent six-week marriage. After that conversation, Chase and Luke had made occasional caustic remarks about “the SOB who bailed when he found out Jessie was pregnant.” They’d been very careful not to make such comments in front of Rowdy, but they’d also refused to listen when she’d tried to persuade them that their interpretation was wrong.
She shuddered. Having her brothers learn a Kerrigan was “the SOB who bailed” would only make their reaction worse.
She wondered how much more difficult it would be to tell Zach.
If I decide to tell him, I’ll make an appointment to see him and do it in person. She didn’t relish the thought. Though she was convinced she’d moved on and put her feelings about that night behind her, she knew delivering the news about Rowdy wouldn’t be easy.
Would he be angry? She hadn’t a clue.
Probably not, she thought. Statistics prove a high percentage of men in America don’t have any interest in children beyond the act of conception.
Would he want to be involved in Rowdy’s life or would he choose to remain anonymous?
Ah, now that was the most important question, she realized. And the one that worried her most.
She could bear Zach’s anger and her parents’ disappointment in her; also, her brothers’ certain outrage and Rachel’s dismay. She’d been forced to make choices four years ago that impacted all of them and would pay the price for her decisions without flinching. But Rowdy was innocent. He didn’t deserve to be involved in an emotional fire-storm.
A swift rush of motherly protectiveness swamped her.
He’s my little boy, only mine. Jessie realized her hands were curled into fists, her entire body tensed as if ready for battle. She forced her fingers to straighten and took several deep breaths in an effort to relax.
Despite her fierce emotions, she knew her instinctive response was impractical. She was a lawyer, a member of the Montana Bar Association, and she was fully aware Zach had a right to visitation with Rowdy, if that’s what he wanted. Excluding Zach from their son’s life wasn’t legally possible.
That didn’t mean she had to like it.
She thrust her fingers through her hair, tugging the thick, heavy mass away from her temples where the dull headache still throbbed.
Worrying at this point was fruitless, she told herself. More likely than not, Zach would be gone before long, flying back to whatever part of the world was currently at war and needed his services as a munitions consultant.
She switched off the television and turned off the lights as she left the living room to walk down the hallway to her bedroom. A lamp glowed softly on the bedside table, casting shadows into the corners of the comfortable room. Jessie loved her little house and had spent hours sanding woodwork, painting walls and making it uniquely hers. The rest of the house reflected the reality that a three-year-old boy lived here but this room was her sanctuary. Here, she’d indulged herself with pale green silk curtains that matched the spread and pillow shams on the walnut four-poster bed. The bed had been her great-grandmother’s and, like the matching nightstands, bureau and oval mirror, its polished surface gleamed with years of loving care.
The quiet surroundings had always had the power to soothe and relax her but tonight the room didn’t calm her worries about Rowdy and Zach. Even after she’d showered, dressed in a cotton tank top and loose pajama bottoms, climbed into bed and switched off the lamp, her mind continued to whirl with all the possible ramifications of Zach’s return to Wolf Creek.
When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of Zach and the first time he’d come to her rescue. It was during the summer she was ten and he was already a tall, lanky teenager of fifteen….
The first summer after her grandfather died seemed longer and hotter than usual. Jessie and her best friend, Sarah, tried to keep cool by swimming in the stock pond and spending Saturday afternoons in the air-conditioned theater.
Following a movie one Saturday, Jessie and Sarah stopped at Muller’s Candy Shoppe before meeting Sarah’s mother at the library. They were contemplating a purchase when the string of bells hanging on the door jingled loudly and two teenage boys entered the nearly empty store.
“Well, well, if it isn’t a McCloud. Heard from your convict brother lately?”
Jessie stiffened at the jeering tone in Lonnie Kerrigan’s voice. Determined to ignore him, she resolutely stared at the glass case and the rainbow display of saltwater toffee inside. She wished Mr. Muller hadn’t stepped into the back room. The bell she could use to call him back was located at the far end of the counter by the cash register, too far away for her to reach.
“What’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue?”
He brushed past
her, bumping her in the process.
“Don’t pay any attention to him, Jessie,” Sarah urged.
Jessie glanced sideways and saw that her friend’s eyes were fearful as she watched the blocky teenager on Jessie’s other side.
“Yeah, kid. Don’t pay any attention to me.” Lonnie leaned against the candy display, grinning with malicious enjoyment at Sarah’s concern.
“I won’t,” Jessie said, filled with hate and loathing for the bully. “You’re not worth it.”
“Is that right?” She heard the sneer in his voice. “All you McClouds are the same. You’re a little young, but I’m sure it won’t be long before your brother Luke joins Chase in jail.” He waved expansively at the interior of the candy shop. “I’m surprised you’re allowed in here without supervision. Wonder if Mr. Muller knows he’s got a future criminal in his store?”
Goaded beyond endurance, Jessie turned to face him, furious. “You’re a pig, Lonnie Kerrigan. You should be in jail, not Chase. You’re the criminal—you and your whole family!”
She glared up at him, daring him to do anything about her harsh words. At ten, she was several feet shorter than the seventeen-year-old and he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds. She didn’t care. Three months earlier, she’d watched as Chase was handcuffed and driven away from their grandfather’s funeral in a police car. She blamed Lonnie for her brother’s absence and she hated him with a depth and passion she’d never before felt in her short life.
A blond teenage girl standing near the door giggled at Jessie’s words and Lonnie flushed, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer, bending toward Jessie.
“You little bitch.”
Her mother would have washed his mouth out with soap for using that word. Jessie stuck out her chin and refused to back down.
He grabbed her arm and twisted. The pain was excruciating but Jessie wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead, she glared harder, blinking back tears.
“Let her go.”
Lonnie’s gaze left hers and he looked over her head at someone behind her. His mouth tightened before he sneered again. “Stay out of it, Zach. This is none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business. She’s just a kid. Let her go.”
“You taking her place?”
“If I have to.”
Lonnie laughed and his grip loosened. He pushed Jessie and she stumbled sideways against the glass display case.
“Hey, none of that in here! You two take it outside if you have to fight,” Mr. Muller said firmly.
Jessie glanced over her shoulder. The gray-haired, heavyset owner of the store left the doorway to the back room and leaned over the counter, frowning at Lonnie and Zach.
“Yeah, yeah,” Lonnie snarled. “We’re goin’.”
Zach spun on his heel and stalked out of the shop, followed by Lonnie, his friend and the two teenage girls.
“Come on.” Jessie grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her across the room and out the door in time to see the teenagers disappear into the alley. She and Sarah ran to the corner of the building and stopped, peering around the edge.
Lonnie was taller, heavier and had a longer reach than his younger cousin, who at fifteen was still rangy with lighter muscle on his fast-growing body. Within minutes, blood was oozing from Zach’s nose and welling from a cut on his lip, his right eye was red and bruised. He didn’t stop, however, and no matter how many times Lonnie knocked him down, he got up and kept swinging. By the time a police officer, probably called by Mr. Muller, arrived to break up the fight, both boys were bleeding from their faces and knuckles. Their white T-shirts were ripped, smeared with dirt and stained with blood spatters.
“Wow, Jessie,” Sarah said in awe as the policeman marched the battered combatants down the street toward the police station. “He stood up for you and made Lonnie leave you alone. Why did he do that?”
“I don’t know. He’s a Kerrigan. He probably just likes to get into fights and beat up people.” Jessie was pleased that her voice sounded unconcerned and dismissive. But she was secretly amazed that Zach Kerrigan had kept Lonnie from hurting her. Why? Could he possibly dislike Lonnie and his bullying as much as she did?
Jessie woke, struggling through clinging shreds of sleep and dreams. She sat up, rubbing her hands over her face in an effort to clear away the images of her ten-year-old self watching Zach fight Lonnie in the dust of the alley behind Muller’s Candy Shoppe.
The residue of half-remembered conflicted emotions churned, accompanied by the memory of Zach’s battered face on that long-ago afternoon.
Had he saved her that day because he was being kind to a child being bullied? Or had he simply taken advantage of an excuse to fight Lonnie? It was no secret that the Kerrigans often exploded into physical violence.
She tipped the bedside clock so she could read the time.
“Two o’clock? Ugh.” She lay down, punching her pillow. She had to be at the office by seven and made a mental note to brew extra-strong coffee in the morning.
Chapter Two
Zach Kerrigan slid out of the booth in the back of the coffee shop and stood, settling his straw cowboy hat on his head as he walked to the front of the restaurant. He’d been absent from Wolf Creek for years but several ranchers seated at the booths and tables nodded hello as he passed. He returned the silent greeting, recognizing a few of the older men.
He stopped at the front counter, waiting for the waitress who’d served him to hurry forward. She stepped behind the cash register and he handed her his check and several bills.
“Keep the change.”
“Thanks.” She flashed him a quick, appreciative smile. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
“Not exactly,” he drawled. “I grew up here.”
“Really?” She cocked her head, eyeing him curiously. “Why haven’t I seen you in the restaurant before?”
“I’ve been away.” Zach slipped his wallet into his jeans’ back pocket, glancing sideways as the door opened.
The woman who stepped over the threshold was young, her slim shape clothed in a conservative cream business suit. Her face was turned away from him as she spoke to the man behind her, giving Zach a view of deep auburn hair and the pure lines of her profile.
His memories of Jessie McCloud were vivid and powerful but the woman in front of him was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. A slam of pure longing, lust and need rocked him. He’d expected the lust. The instant ache of yearning need stunned him.
She laughed at a low-voiced comment from the older man and turned, taking two steps into the café before her gaze met Zach’s and she abruptly halted.
Her eyes widened and her face paled. Emotions moved swiftly across her expressive features—shock and stunned surprise, quickly followed by a brief glimpse of what Zach thought was raw pain. Then her eyes shuttered and her face smoothed, concealing what she’d just revealed as effectively as if she’d drawn a curtain closed.
“Zach.” The faint inclination of her head was polite, her voice cool and distant.
“Jessie.” He touched the brim of his hat, his gaze flicking to the elderly man standing at her elbow. He didn’t recognize him, but the Stetson, jeans and boots he wore marked him as a rancher.
The man nodded politely. In the moment it took for Zach to nod in response and return his attention to Jessie, she’d walked away from him toward the back of the café.
Ignoring the curious glance from the man with her, Zach left the café. He strode down the sidewalk toward the feed store, oblivious to the people he passed and the sound of traffic on the street.
He’d thought about Jessie more often than he cared to admit during the last four years, and in the weeks since he’d returned to Wolf Creek, she’d haunted his dreams every night.
He hadn’t expected her to welcome him with open arms, but neither had he thought she’d turn and walk away as if she hated the sight of him.
“Zach!”
He loo
ked up and cursed silently. Harlan Kerrigan stepped out of his office and stood only yards in front of him. Zach, not yet ready to deal with his uncle, had ignored the messages Harlan had left on his answering machine. He still didn’t want to talk to the man.
But he closed the distance between them. “Afternoon, Harlan.”
“Afternoon, Zach. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“Sorry, I’ve got a sick horse I have to check on. Maybe some other time.”
Harlan’s mouth tightened, his ruddy complexion darkening. His eyes reflected his annoyance but he surprised Zach when he didn’t insist. “Let’s make it soon.”
Zach nodded and went his way.
What the hell is Harlan up to? It wasn’t like him to give up easily. Zach made a mental note to ask his mother and sister if Harlan had approached either of them and if he had, what he’d wanted from them.
Seated in a booth in the café, Jessie reined in her emotions, slammed them into a locked corner of her mind and focused on lunch. Ed Sanders was an old friend of her father’s and when he’d called her office for an appointment to update his will, she’d been delighted. They finished his legal work just before noon and his offer to buy her lunch was a welcome diversion. She hadn’t given a thought to the possibility of running into Zach.
So she’d been totally unprepared when she did. The shock and heartache that followed had nearly paralyzed her. The only response she could manage was a brief greeting followed by a swift escape to the back of the café.
She managed to chat and laugh at Ed’s jokes but when she returned to her office after lunch, she had no clear memory of their conversation.
“Hi, Jessie.” Tina, the single mother of three who expertly ran the business side of Jessie’s law office, looked up and smiled when Jessie entered. “How was lunch?”
“Fine.” Jessie murmured her thanks when Tina handed her several pink phone message slips. She glanced quickly through them. “The Auditor’s Office didn’t call back with the information on Dad’s title search?”
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