by Cora Seton
“What about me?” Savannah turned their way, Hugh still cradled in her arms.
“Are you aware Jericho drew the short straw and has to marry next?” Renata asked her.
Jericho wished he could decipher the emotions chasing each other across Savannah’s face as the cameras focused on her. Surprise, concern, wariness—and something else. Something like… fear?
His stomach sank. How could she turn her back on him so easily when their encounter in the Russells’ bathroom had been so—
Jericho wrenched his mind from the memory. If he thought about it now, Renata would read the truth of it on his face, and so far they’d managed to keep their secret.
Savannah opened her mouth, but she couldn’t seem to find anything to say.
“How could she know?” Jericho asked to cover her confusion. “It just happened.” And trust Renata to stir the pot and make this harder for him.
“Congratulations,” Savannah managed finally. “I’m sure you and your bride will be very happy.”
“Don’t you think you’ll be that bride?” Renata pushed.
Jericho stifled the urge to punch her. He’d never hit a woman in his life, but he’d never known someone as obnoxious as Renata. Even his sister, Kara, wasn’t this bad.
Savannah swallowed. “I… I…”
Regan came to her rescue. “Savannah, could you do me a favor?” she interrupted.
“Sure, anything,” Savannah said, a little wildly. “I can’t resist you as long as I’m holding this little man, you know. Because you’re just the most darling baby,” she cooed at Hugh.
If she was trying to redirect Renata’s attention, it worked. The cameramen now focused on the baby. Hugh was all smiles and pudgy cheeks. Maybe six months old, Jericho estimated. Taking care of Donovan had given him the experience of judging a baby’s age—
He pushed the memory from his mind. That had been years ago. Donovan was as grown as he was.
Although who knew what kind of life the man was leading.
Swallowing the old, bitter taste of guilt, Jericho tried to keep his attention on the present.
“Would you watch the kids when we fetch Ella and Isaac home from the hospital tomorrow?” Regan asked Savannah. “You’ve always been so comfortable with the kids when you’ve stopped by. I hope you don’t mind my asking.”
“Ella’s coming home? Oh, that’s terrific.” Savannah smiled for the first time.
Jericho knew Ella Hall had been in the hospital for several days after a rough time with the birth of her son. Born with the cord wrapped around his neck, the baby had to spend some time in the NICU before he was allowed home. It had been touch and go there for a little while, and he knew everyone was thrilled that both mother and baby were all right.
“We all want to be there to pick her up, but we can’t bring so many babies and toddlers to the hospital at once. It won’t be for long. Do you think you could manage it?”
“Of course! I’d love to,” Savannah said.
Jericho thought of the last time he’d visited Crescent Hall—the tumble and cries of children all through the large house. The four Hall brothers and their wives lived together on their ranch, three of the couples in the main house and one in a converted bunkhouse.
“That’s a lot of kids for one person to watch,” he said.
“You’re right; I think Savannah could use an extra pair of hands,” Regan said brightly. “You could come, too, if you like, Jericho.”
Savannah turned to him, eyes wide. Hugh watched him from her arms, his somber expression tugging at some paternal instinct Jericho hadn’t known he had. What if that was his baby—
No.
Never.
“Jericho? Do you want to come tomorrow and help Savannah?” Regan prompted.
Hell, no, he wanted to say. But maybe he should. It would give him a chance to talk to Savannah alone about the fact he’d drawn the short straw. He needed to propose to Savannah.
Hell, first he needed to have a full conversation with her.
“Uh… yeah. Sure,” he heard himself say.
And wondered if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Jericho had drawn the short straw? And he was coming to babysit the Hall kids tomorrow?
Savannah fought down her rising panic. She knew what this meant; he was going to propose to her, and she wasn’t ready to answer him.
Why did this have to happen now? She needed three more weeks to prepare for her audition. Then, when Alfred Redding accepted her as a protégé, she’d be in a much stronger position when she approached Jericho with her news. Her career had to be on rails before she confessed her secret—so far underway he couldn’t tell her she had to quit.
She’d waited for this chance to grasp her dream for so long—to prove to her family they were wrong about her—
She couldn’t stop now.
Even if she was pregnant.
She wanted this baby. Wanted it more than almost anything.
Couldn’t she have both?
She could. She knew she could.
But only if Jericho was willing to be the best of fathers. If she couldn’t be with her child every minute of the day—Jericho needed to be. The SEAL was honorable. He had integrity. And he desired her—she knew that.
But did he ache to be a father? Enough to throw over conventions and take on the role of primary caregiver while she pursued her career—at least for a while?
Every fiber of her longed to break the news to him. Keeping this secret from Jericho and almost everyone else had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She kept having to invent excuses to sneak off to the doctors—and to Two Willows, where Alice Reed had already loosened the seams of her Regency gowns twice. At least she wasn’t due for another appointment for several weeks.
Still, she couldn’t wait to see the look on the SEAL’s face when she told him he was going to be a daddy. When she pictured the moment, he held her tenderly. Kissed her.
Told her he loved her.
She could see it all so clearly in her mind, but when she pictured asking him to put his own plans on hold to spend his days with their baby, the vision ended and she was left wondering what would happen next. He had goals, too—and everyone at Westfield depended on him to reach them. What would she do if he asked the obvious question? Why couldn’t she put off her dreams—
Again.
“There’s only one problem,” Jericho said to Regan, breaking into Savannah’s thoughts. She had to remember she was still being filmed. Still standing outside the manor with baby Hugh in her arms. “You know wherever we go, the cameras follow. I doubt you’ll want your children to appear on TV.”
Savannah held her breath. Just as she thought; he was trying to get her alone—away from the cameras.
Was it her imagination, or was Jericho giving Riley a significant look?
Don’t fall for it, Savannah urged her friend silently. Say the cameras have to be there.
“Wait a minute—” Renata stepped forward to intervene. “Don’t think you can get rid of my cameramen—”
But Regan had obviously decided to help Jericho out. “Sorry. I can’t have strangers filming the babies while we’re away. But,” she added, forestalling Renata. “How’s this for a workaround? Come fifteen minutes early and you can film Jericho and Savannah with our children while we’re there. When we leave for the hospital, you and your film crews leave, too.”
Jericho looked like he wanted to kiss her. Savannah had to admit Regan had played it perfectly. Which meant she’d be alone with Jericho for more than an hour at Crescent Hall—no cameras on the premises.
She was so screwed.
“Half an hour,” Renata demanded.
“Deal.” Regan reached out a hand and pumped Renata’s. She scooped Hugh from Savannah’s arms and, to Savannah’s surprise, handed him to Jericho. “There. You can get a little footage right now.”
Savannah sucked in a breath, unprepared for the impact of the
visual. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so… good… as the image of baby Hugh in Jericho’s arms. The SEAL cradled the baby expertly, even though he was obviously taken aback by this abrupt turn of events. He stared down at the little boy, who stared back up at him just as intently.
“Hey,” Jericho said softly. “Hey, Hugh. What’s up?”
The baby smiled at him, a big, sunny smile that made Savannah’s eyes sting. She had no idea what Jericho felt about fatherhood, but she was going to find out soon enough.
As soon as she got Redding to take her on.
Watching Jericho cradle tiny Hugh in his arms made her long to hold her own baby. It would be so hard to leave her child while she traveled to concerts—
But it would be worth it, she reminded herself. Worth it to prove to her family she had what it took. They’d never taken her seriously. Had undercut her at every turn. She couldn’t turn her back on the piano again—even if Fate had thrown her this curve ball.
It was all about timing. First she had to know if Redding wanted her to be his protégé. If the answer was yes—it had to be yes—then she could tell Jericho about their baby, and let him know at the same time how much help she’d need in the coming years. Then, if he still wanted to propose to her, she’d agree to marry him.
She had no idea what she’d do if he backed off.
Jericho looked up, as if he’d heard her thoughts. His expression was strange—half wonder, half consternation—and she felt as if he was asking her a question.
Was it okay for him to hold a baby?
Did she think he was father material?
Could this be their future?
Of course she had no idea what was really running through his mind. He might simply be afraid he was about to get stuck babysitting a bunch of crying kids.
Which he was.
When she didn’t say anything, he turned back to Regan. “We’ll be there when you need us,” he assured her. “And we’re okay with being filmed for half an hour.”
Savannah bent to move the nearest chair to cover her reaction to his statement. For some strange reason tears pricked her eyes, and relief washed over her. She realized she’d expected him to try to get out of babysitting—and she’d assumed that would mean he’d refuse to take responsibility as their baby’s father, too.
But he hadn’t. He’d made a point of saying he’d be there.
Jericho was a good man. She wanted him as much as she wanted this baby. Over the months they’d both lived at Westfield, she’d grown to admire him for his dedication to his work, his single-minded pursuit of powering their community with renewable resources and the way he always had a smile ready for her, despite everything else that was going on.
Despite the way she’d built a wall between them without any explanation.
She couldn’t wait to knock that wall down.
“We’d better get back to work setting up,” she said before her desire for Jericho got the better of her and she spilled all her secrets to him right now. “You’ll be over later for the ceremony, right?” she asked Regan.
“Of course. See you then!” Regan beamed at her, as if she thought she’d done something clever by inviting Jericho to come along the following day. If only she knew, Savannah thought.
But that was the thing. No one knew about her audition. No one knew how important it was.
And no one but her dressmaker knew she was pregnant, either. Except maybe Sam—and she’d leave for her honeymoon in Mexico in just a few hours.
Jericho carefully transferred Hugh into Regan’s arms. “There you go, big guy. See you later. Be good for your mama.”
As Regan and Hugh headed off, Jericho stepped closer to Savannah. “Save me a dance later?”
She nodded, feeling like she’d stepped on a roller coaster that was doomed to go off the rails. Might as well dance with him while she could.
Her life was about to get pretty complicated.
“Forty days goes fast,” Harris Wentworth said a number of hours later as he and Jericho stood outside the manor watching Sam’s parents’ band, Deader Than Ever, prepare to play. Jericho had heard from Harris the band would stray from its normal hippie repertoire to play more classic wedding fare, and he was sure they’d all have a good time tonight. The ceremony had been simple but moving, and Harris was about as giddy as Jericho had ever seen the ex-sniper. He’d been a man of few words before he met Samantha. Sam had brought out the best in him, and now Harris was far more likely than before to join in group events and relax his constant vigilance. Even now, Harris’s gaze rested on his new bride where she stood among a knot of well-wishers near the house.
“I know.” Jericho didn’t want to think about how little time he had to convince Savannah to marry him. He didn’t want to think of the alternative, either. Failure wasn’t an option. Savannah was the only woman who stirred his blood this way. He’d thought of little else in the months he’d been at Base Camp, and he decided he was glad he’d drawn the short straw. Time to settle this matter between them once and for all.
“Do you have a plan?”
Jericho nodded. “I’m going to ask her to dance as soon as the band gets going. And I’m helping her babysit at Crescent Hall tomorrow.” He still couldn’t believe he’d gotten roped into that.
“That’s your plan?” Harris looked skeptical. “Might take more than that.”
“It might.” Jericho decided he was ready for the challenge. He would pursue her day and night if that’s what it took. Today’s wedding was the perfect place to start. Weddings were romantic. Savannah would be thinking about her own future. She’d softened up a little lately, so maybe he wouldn’t get the usual brush-off. “Gotta start somewhere, though, right?”
“That you do.”
“I’m happy for you.” Jericho was. Harris and Sam had taken a bumpy journey to this wedding. But today both of them were positively glowing. Jericho wanted to feel like that.
“Thanks. Hey, you’d better go ask Savannah before someone else does.” Harris nudged him and nodded toward where Savannah stood near Sam with several of her friends. Harris was right; the music had started, and one of the local cowboys was making his way toward Savannah already, his nervousness plain to see as he mustered up his courage to ask her to dance.
Jericho sprang into motion. No way he’d let another man pull Savannah close tonight—or ever. He pushed his way through the crowd, apologizing as he went, and beat the cowboy by mere seconds to Savannah’s side.
“Let’s dance,” he said and took Savannah’s arm just as the other man reached them.
“Hey,” the cowboy said, but Jericho ignored him.
“Just a dance, that’s all,” he assured Savannah as he led her to the makeshift dance floor. He wouldn’t give her the chance to say no.
A glance back told him the cowboy was fuming. Jericho gave him an ironic salute, caught Savannah watching him and cleared his throat.
“Old friend,” he told her.
“Right.”
As he took her into his arms, she kept a distance between them, and Jericho’s heart sunk. She wasn’t going to make this easy. This was more like dancing with your cousin than the woman you hoped to make your wife. He was glad the gathering was so big. The camera crews were far too busy to focus on them.
“Nice wedding, huh?” As he guided her around the floor, he refused to be cowed by her lack of cooperation. He’d known this would take some effort.
Meanwhile, he appreciated the low-cut neckline of Savannah’s gown. Jericho was a modern man, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to objectify women, but Savannah’s breasts were nothing short of miraculous and it was hard to keep his gaze from hovering there too long. They were full and enticing, and he couldn’t help remembering the feel of them in his hands, even if it had been months.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.
She shook her head, but Jericho wasn’t going to let her get away with that.
“Yes, you have.” He
pulled her closer and leaned down to speak in her ear. “Ever since we were together.” Deciding to shatter the polite distance between them, he added, “Was it really so bad?”
She tilted up her chin to look at him and he saw all the desire he felt echoed in her eyes. “Of course not.” A faint flush traced over her cheeks. Was she thinking about their encounter in the Russells’ bathroom? How they could have gotten caught?
“I think about it all the time,” he told her. Her flush deepened and she looked away, but Jericho pressed the matter. “How about you? Do you think about it?”
After a long pause, in which he thought she wouldn’t answer, she finally nodded.
Jericho pulled her closer. Smelled the delicate fragrance of her hair as she rested her head against his chest. She felt so right here. He needed her to know that, too.
He wanted to tell her how much he wanted her right now. Hell, he wanted to propose, to make sure she was his forever—but that wasn’t the way to play this. Savannah had been spooked when Boone went after Riley—and finally won her heart. She hated the way she and the other women had been strong-armed into participating in Fulsom’s reality television show. But if Boone and Riley, and Clay and Nora, had been able to work things out, couldn’t he find a way to do so with Savannah?
She needed to know he wanted her because of who she was—not because he was under some deadline. Try as he might, he hadn’t made that clear enough.
That would change tonight.
“How’s the practicing coming?” He had to stop himself from kissing her. This close she was irresistible.
“Pretty well.” The tension in her shoulders told him something was wrong, though.
“Are you getting enough time?”
She shrugged.
He had an inspiration. “I can talk to Boone. Tell him I don’t need you to work with me anymore. Then you’d have more time to practice.”
She tilted up her head to look at him again. “You’d do that? Let me practice instead of work with you on the energy grid?”