“Just because you two are a wonderful mistake doesn’t mean marrying your father would turn out that way,” she said to her stomach and sighed. “Is it so wrong to want to be happy? To want love?”
The truck cab remained eerily quiet. She lifted her head and peered out into the dark night. Thick white flakes were falling, blanketing the land in frigid silence.
Sitting here in the cold wasn’t an option. She knew how to change a tire. Her daddy believed in teaching all of his kids basic vehicle maintenance. Tires, oil, windshield wiper fluid, all that stuff. She was a confident, independent, capable woman, dammit. And, right now, the need to be self-sufficient was overwhelming.
“Let’s do this, babies,” she said out loud, trying to bolster her fragile spirits.
The minute she pushed the truck door open, she was blasted by the icy night air. Tugging her coat tighter around her, she slid from the cab and walked around to the truck bed. The beam of her flashlight cut a wide swath in the dark, her isolation more than a little unnerving. Not that she was going to regret her mad dash from the safety of her home. Or wish she’d simply retreated to the privacy of her apartment versus driving an hour into no-man’s land in the middle of the night.
“So not helping.” With the flashlight propped on the truck bed, she rifled through the toolbox until she had all the parts needed for the tire change. “See, all good.”
Now came the fun part.
The tire was screwed under the truck bed. Which meant she’d have to lie down, unscrew the tire and roll it out. Then there was the whole pumping up the jack thing. Just leaning against the side of the truck had caused the fabric of her gown to go damp—and freezing.
“Sorry, guys,” she mumbled. “I’ll make this as quick as I can.”
Not quick enough. Opening the rack that held the tire in place was harder than it looked. The frost, probably. Her thick mittens didn’t help, snagging and catching on the screws and brackets, so she tugged them off and threw them aside. Within seconds, her fingers were so cold it was hard to keep a solid grip on the pliers she was using.
“Stupid,” she ground out, both hands gripping the handles. “Stupid.”
A vehicle’s high beams hit her car, illuminating the underside of her truck and the tire bracket.
“Ha!” she cried, managing to twist the screw a full turn before her fingers went numb and the tool slipped from her hand. It fell, heavy, to the grass right by her head.
“That could have hurt,” she ground out, her heart hammering in her ears. If it had hit her on the head, then what? She was in the middle of nowhere, hours from help. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, running her hands over her stomach. “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes stung, like her fingertips. But this time, the stinging had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with her predicament.
“What was I thinking?” Right now, the only person to blame was herself.
She hadn’t realized the vehicle had pulled onto the shoulder of the road beside her until she noticed the ground beneath her was flooded with light. The roar of an engine, the slam of a door...the crunch of boots on the newly fallen sleet.
Followed by an all-too-familiar voice. “Please tell me you’re not under there.” The instant relief—and something far more alarming—Ash Carmichael’s presence caused vanished. He was angry.
He was angry? He was the reason she was in this situation. Sort of. She stayed where she was, shivering and fuming.
“Renata,” he snapped. “It’s freezing.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. If it wasn’t, I’d already have the stupid spare out of the stupid rack and the stupid truck jacked up so I could change the stupid tire,” she snapped right back. Now that she knew the babies could hear her, cussing felt wrong.
He crouched down. “Come out from under there.”
She closed her eyes, knowing she should listen. The bolt was stuck, the tire was stuck—she was stuck.
“Dammit, Renata. I know you’re mad at me, but it’s too cold for you to do this now.”
He was right. But—
“The cold isn’t good for the babies. Please get up,” he said, crouching and peering under the truck. Arm extended, he reached out to her.
How could she argue with that? She couldn’t. And he knew it. But she wasn’t about to take more help than was necessary. She slid out, carefully, leaning aside so as not to hit her head on the rear bumper. But once she was sitting up, the effects of the cold were harder to ignore. Try as she might, she couldn’t pull herself up.
He held his hand out again. “Let me help.”
She glared up at him before taking his hand, hating the instant warmth that his touch caused. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about tonight was fair. Except he’s here and we’re not stuck on the side of the road all night long in freezing temperatures. Not that this moment of clarity stopped her from shoving her hands into her pockets and looking his way.
But he was shining a light on the flat. “Someone coming to help fix this?”
“I’ve got it.”
She heard Ash’s sigh.
“I can change a flat,” she added.
He stared at her, his anger surprising her. “I’m sure you can, Renata. But whether you can or not, you shouldn’t be. It’s freezing. And late. And dark.” He pulled her hands from her pockets and rubbed them between his. “Your hands are like ice cubes. Where are your gloves?”
“Where are yours?” She stared at their hands. Big hands. Rough hands. Warm. She had very fond memories of his hands. Really? She was going to go there now? But her attempt to pull her hands away failed as his hold tightened on hers.
“Renata.” That tone. All soft and deep and spine tingling. Warning bells sounded.
“No, Ash.” She yanked her hands from his. There would be no spine tingles tonight. “Leave me alone.”
Another sigh. “That’s not going to happen. I will take you home—”
“I’m not going home,” she interrupted him, doing her best not to shiver.
He stared at her, his face too shadowed for her to clearly read what was going through his brain. Still, the hoarse “Please,” tugged at something inside. “Tomorrow, when it’s light, we’ll get your tire changed and you can go to Fire Gorge.”
“How did you know where I was going?” she asked.
“I didn’t. I hoped. All I knew was you were gone. Your dad said something about Fire Gorge once—how it was your place to get away. I figured, after tonight, you’d want to get away. So I started driving, hoping.”
There were so many things about what he said that weakened her resolve to stay mad.
His voice was soft. “I get that you’re mad at me, but I’d like to apologize—”
“An apology?” Her throat was tight. She braced herself.
“Apologize. Grovel. Beg—right here, on my knees if you want.” He shifted from one foot to the other.
“You think that’s what I want?” Her voice shook. “What I want is to go back in time and fix...this.” Before the ball and throwing up and seeing her mother’s ring in his hand and the expectant smile on her father’s face. The images collided, stoking her temper. “I want you to leave. That’s what I want.”
His entire body stiffened, an odd choking cough escaping him before he growled, “I’m not leaving you out here.”
“I can’t go home right now. I need...space. From everyone.” She hugged herself. “From my dad. The town. You.”
“Fine.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll change the tire. But you have to sit in my truck until then, please.” He was changing her tire so she could leave. Which was what she wanted. “Come on, Renata. This temperature can’t be good for the babies,” he pleaded.
He wasn’t playing fair. But then again, she hadn’t given him much of a choice. She was being irrationally stubborn here. “Okay.” She forced
the word out, shoved the tools into his hands and hurried to his truck.
It was hard to sit there. While she was soaking up the warmth of the heater, he was crawling under her truck, doing what she asked, in the freezing cold—so she could leave. While it was snowing. In the middle of the night.
Guilt kicked in.
The longer it took, the colder it became, the greater the guilt. She was toasty warm and he was still under her truck, trying to open the damn tire rack. According to the temperature reading on his dashboard, it was hovering around eighteen degrees.
His gloveless fingers were probably beyond numb by now.
“This is ridiculous,” she mumbled. “Your mother isn’t normally a horrible and selfish person. I’m sorry for losing my head, babies.” She opened the truck window a crack. “Ash,” she called out. “Come warm up.”
It took him a few minutes, but he joined her. He sat, cheeks flushed and nose bright red, staring straight ahead. He flexed his equally red fingers and muttered, “It’s stuck. The screw is stripped, I think.”
Still, he’d kept trying. For her. Even though this wasn’t his fault. Not really. Not the broken-down-on-the-side-of-the-road part anyway. She was the one who had thrown up all over him and caused a spectacle. She was the one who had run away. He’d been the one left to deal with the aftermath.
She studied his profile. Tension bracketed his mouth. The muscle in his jaw clenched tight. Still oh so handsome. And kind. He was a good man. If only... She swallowed. If only he felt something for her. Like the way she might, possibly—probably—feel about him. She covered her face with her hands, wanting to hide—needing a buffer between them and all the feelings.
“What do you want me to do?” he whispered.
She glanced his way, too tired to fight—or drive—anymore. “I just need to get my keys and my purse. If you’ll still give me a ride?”
Those gray eyes met hers. The sadness was real. Deep. Raw. Pressing in on her until she had to look away. “I’ll get them. Stay here.” He was out of the truck before she could argue.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, her gaze following him as he jogged to her truck. Maybe—no, definitely—she’d overreacted by running tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow things wouldn’t seem so overwhelming. After a good night’s sleep, she’d wake up and she wouldn’t be in love with the father of her babies and her heart wouldn’t be at risk.
What I want is to go back in time and fix...this. Few words had ever hurt as much.
Shock or not, he wouldn’t wish this pregnancy away.
Neither would she. What had happened tonight had upset her. Her reaction was undoubtedly compounded by the additional pregnancy hormones. And the Boone stubborn streak her father had reminded him of. Renata and these babies? He knew exactly how she felt about them. Her face had lit up at the doctor’s office when they’d heard their babies’ heartbeats. She wanted them—loved them. But not him.
Through the front windshield, he saw her, knees drawn up, hands over her face, looking fragile and small. And it was a kick to the gut. Unintentionally or not, he’d outed her secret in a very public way. But how could he have known the proposal would go so terribly wrong?
He owed it to her to fix this—somehow, some way. Did he have any ideas? Hell no. Considering his last idea had landed him covered in vomit and Renata running for the hills, he really needed to think this one through. For now, he was happy he’d convinced her to give up her midnight drive to a place that was fifty miles from nowhere. It was a start.
He pulled himself into the truck cab and slammed the truck door, sealing out the surprisingly bitter cold.
“Thank you.” She took the purse he offered, still huddled in her seat.
He nodded, wanting to say something—anything—to ease the tension between them. “I am sorry,” he murmured.
In the deafening silence of the truck cab, there was no way she’d missed the apology. But sitting there, hoping she’d say something or—dream on—accept his apology wasn’t going to make the drive into town go faster. He was bone tired as it was. If he was, she had to be. And the babies... Well, they all needed their beds. The sooner, the better.
He put the truck in gear and headed back home, the quiet crushing in on him and making him squirm. If she didn’t want to listen to him apologize, he’d change gears entirely. Neutral ground was good. Curtis. Or the mothers. Or his work. Even the Gruber place she was so fond of. But a glance her way told him the conversation window was closed.
For a moment, it hurt to breathe.
She’d shifted in the seat, facing him. There was no sign of the stress or anger that had rolled off her when she’d been awake. Instead, she was young and calm... And more beautiful than ever. Something about this brave, stubborn woman had captured his attention.
He’d make this right between them. He had to.
The drive to the Lodge seemed to take twice as long as it should’ve. But when he’d finally parked, the sight of her sleeping peacefully made it impossible to wake her. He scooped her into his arms, comforted by her body’s warmth. The brush of her breath on his throat set the hair on the back of his neck straight up. And the press of her hand against his chest knocked the rhythm of his heart. Her head lolled back against his shoulder, and he stared down at her face.
Affection rolled over him. Real affection. With a healthy dose of surprising territorialism. Dammit. But coming face-to-face with Fisher, pacing before the fireplace, demanded his overwhelming reaction to Renata would wait—for self-preservation’s sake.
“Thank God,” Fisher whispered, staring at his sister with unveiled concern. “Where was she?”
“On her way to Fire Gorge,” he answered.
Fisher shook his head. “Are you kidding me? She’s okay?”
He hoped so. He’d been an hour behind her—an hour she’d been stuck on the side of the road. “Should probably put her to bed before she wakes up.”
“Too late,” Renata murmured, those blue eyes going wide when she realized she was in his arms. She slipped free, her expression remote. “I’m good.”
As soon as she was on her feet, Fisher was pulling her in for a hug. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that?”
“It runs in the family,” she returned, melting into her twin without resistance. “Dad—”
“Doesn’t know you took off.” Fisher held her away, his expression stern. “I lied, told him you’d gone straight to bed. Good damn thing he didn’t see your truck missing.”
“He will tomorrow.” Her eyes bounced to Ash. “My truck’s got a flat. Ash tried to help but the bolt was frozen on.” She broke off, yawning.
“We can worry about that tomorrow. You need sleep.” So did the babies. But Ash decided not to add that part.
“I’m going.” Her big blue eyes met his. “I... Remember what I said, Ash, please.”
Which part? That she was mad at him? That she wanted space? The fact that she’d said she’d go back in time and erase what had happened between them if she could? Erase that night? The babies? Everything? The lump in his throat prevented him from saying a word.
“I’ll get someone to help me with the truck.” Without another word or look, she disappeared down the main hallway.
He stood there watching her, the lump in his throat damn near choking him. She wanted space—needed space. But dammit, he didn’t.
Fisher was studying him with open hostility. He should have expected the fist. The impact was hard and fast. His jaw felt like it had been slammed into a wall. If that wall was Fisher Boone’s fist.
“Shit,” Ash ground out, supporting his jaw and reeling from the impact.
“You might have my dad fooled, but I know you proposed because you knocked her up,” Fisher said, anger edging every syllable.
Ash was too busy seeing stars to choose his words carefully. “I have a
responsibility. But marrying her—”
This time, Fisher made impact with his stomach—knocking the air clean out of Ash’s lungs.
“Damn. It,” Ash hissed.
“My sister doesn’t need your misguided pity proposal, you son of a bitch. She deserves a husband. You’ve been married before so you should know good and well what I’m saying,” he growled. “If you don’t love her, you leave her the hell alone. I mean it. She’s got plenty of people who do love her. We’re ready and willing to take care of her and her kids.”
“Now, hold on.” Ash saw red then. It was still hard to breathe, let alone talk, but he forced himself to stand tall and stare Fisher in the eye. “But I do want to be with her. I want to be her husband, and I’m going to raise my children with her.” He stood a little straighter, ignoring the pull in his side and the throb in his jaw. “You can beat the shit out of me, Fisher. It won’t change how I feel.”
Jaw locked, hands fisted, Fisher stared at him for a long time. But Ash wasn’t about to back down. Physically, he didn’t stand a chance against Fisher Boone. Hell, he’d be feeling the effects of Fisher’s fists for days to come. But the only choice he had was to stand his ground. He moved his jaw side to side and winced.
“Be happy I was holding back.” He sighed.
“That was holding back?” Ash murmured.
“Dammit, Ash... I like you.” Fisher groaned. “But, she’s my sister. She... When she finally falls, that’ll be it. She’ll be all in. Forever.” Fisher’s gaze sharpened. “If you can’t do the same, I’m asking you—man-to-man—to walk away. Because if you bail or change your mind or meet someone else, she’s not the sort to recover.”
If Fisher was hoping to scare him off, it was having the opposite effect. The thought of having Renata at his side for the rest of his life filled him with a surprising peace. Whatever the future held, he wanted her in it. He knew that. Accepted it. And held on—tight. “I’m not going anywhere—not unless she sends me away.”
Fisher was staring at him again. Ash stared right back.
“I still have to get her to say yes.”
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