by Dana Mentink
As if that’s possible.
* * *
Shannon continued to keep tabs on T.J.’s condition, which was as dire as Mason had suggested, thanks to a rising infection. If he died, the legal pressure would hitch up to a whole new level for Dina. And the baby.
Shannon did not understand her own burgeoning feelings for Annabell. Babies were enormous, lifelong commitments. And the potential to make colossal mistakes in their upbringing was bone-chilling, yet she found herself constantly worrying about Annabell. And also enjoying every fascinating moment. What was it about the scent of her sweet skin that made her pick her up just to experience it? She could understand why Dina would go to such risks to secure a future for her daughter, and she knew her own mother would do the same for her. The power of the parent bond was heady stuff. Though she hadn’t had much of a bond with her father, maybe one was more than enough of a blessing.
Her thoughts returned to Dina. Something from their hurried conversation about her brother would not fade from her mind. While Shelby and Evie were giving Annabell a bath, she opened up her laptop and began to dig in.
Jack arrived in the kitchen at lunchtime, sweaty and moving gingerly as he washed his hands. “Had to load a reluctant horse into the trailer for his owner. Harder than getting Keegan to the dentist. What are you working on?”
“Dina Brown,” she said as her fingers tapped across the keys. “I thought if we figured out what she was hiding, it could help.”
He drained a glass of water and sat down next to her. “Got anything?”
“I was just looking at my notes in her medical file. I had forgotten she’d been a patient of mine a couple of years ago in the emergency room. When she first came in, I treated her for a sprained wrist and a cracked rib. She made up some story about falling, of course, and would not admit to abuse. She had no cell phone, and I remembered I asked if there was anyone I could call for her. She gave me a cell-phone number, and I called it via the hospital phone. There was no answer. I only remember because it upset her.”
“You didn’t happen to write down that number, did you?”
“No, but I know the date and time I made the call per my notes, and I can ask my computer-whiz friend at the hospital to look it up for me on the outgoing call log.”
He whistled. “Might be nothing, but then again, might not.”
She messaged her friend, and in an hour, she had the cell-phone number Dina had called.
“Can Larraby trace it?” she said.
“We’ll find out soon. I just texted him the number.”
Shelby and Evie carried Annabell in. She was dressed in a fresh pink onesie with matching socks, and inexplicably, Shannon’s heart lurched. Jack intercepted and snagged the baby.
“Little Bit, you look like a million bucks and change.” He beamed, positively radiating happiness as he paraded her around the room before settling her in a bouncy seat. Barrett, Tom and Keegan joined them, and Shelby and Evie doled out rich tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Barrett could not stop staring at his wife. He raised his water glass and cleared his throat.
“I would like to propose a toast to Shelby, my wife...” He paused. “...and the mother of my child.”
The room went dead quiet for a moment. Evie’s mouth was open in a wide O-shape of astonishment. “You mean you’re...expecting?”
Shelby nodded, eyes wet. “Looks like the family tree will have another Thorn next spring.”
Tom let out a whoop of joy, and Evie burst into happy tears. Keegan and Jack kissed Shelby and pounded Barrett on the back.
“’Bout time someone started the next generation,” Jack said.
Keegan grinned. “I’m gonna teach Barrett Jr. all my best tricks.”
“No, you won’t,” Barrett said firmly.
There was laughter around the table, and Shannon added her own hugs and congratulations. She caught the look in Jack’s eyes. Joy, yes, but shot through with something else. He turned the blue gaze on her, and she read the question there.
Why not us, Shan?
Why not? Because...there were so many reasons she could not begin to count.
If you need to go back to Los Angeles, I’ll support that. I’ll fly you there, even. It was cruel for her to stay and make him think that their future might be possible. And the real truth of it was she knew she would not make Jack happy. He deserved a woman who would put him first.
Purposefully, she turned away and tuned back in to the bubbling conversation about plans to finish the house, furnish a nursery and all the happy speculation swirling around the promise of new life. It really was something to marvel at, she thought.
A marvel for someone else. She had an internship to return to, far away from the sleepy town of Gold Bar and Jack, a town that would stifle her and a man who deserved so much better.
* * *
Jack stayed close to home to handle the chores and watch over Shannon and Annabell, who had spent a quiet morning together. His brother’s news had hit him with a broadside slap as he made his way to the stables. Barrett deserved happiness more than anyone after losing his first wife to a drunk driver, and Owen had found his perfect match, as well, in Ella Cahill. What was it about Jack that made him want a woman who didn’t want him? Having Shannon on the ranch was exquisite torture, ripping away all his brave notions that he’d gotten over her. She’d made it clear as glass that she did not want a life with him any more than she had seven years before. So why, oh, why could he not simply accept it and start over? His brain screamed at him to do so, but he could not shake the feeling that deep down, under the carefully constructed mask, Shannon felt something for him. His pride talking?
Breathing in the scent of the clean straw he’d just laid down in the stable, he set to work grooming Lady. Starting in with the currycomb, he loosened the dirt in her coat, feeling her long lean lines. The circular sweeps over her hips left her relaxed, and they’d grown to trust each other enough that she’d overcome her sensitivity about having her belly and back legs brushed. Still, he kept the pressure soft and easy. He combed out the tangles in her mane and tail. Then he employed the body brush to whisk away the dirt he’d loosened with the currycomb. A wipe of the eyes and ears with a soft cloth, and a kiss to her muzzle, finished things off. He watched her meander out to the pasture and took pleasure in it as he did every day. There was no finer view than Lady cropping brilliant green grass against an azure sky.
He recalled his promise to Shannon that he would live where she chose in order to keep their marriage alive. Could he actually leave Gold Bar? Pull up stakes and relocate to Southern California or New York or any of the places Shannon talked about setting up practice? There was only one woman, one heart that could pry him from this ground. Could he do it? He could, but only for her.
Only for Shannon.
He was surprised to see Shannon standing along the fence with Annabell in her arms.
“Do you see the horses, Annabell? Uncle Jack is taking care of them.” The baby wore a little sun hat and the tiniest pair of socks he’d ever seen. She was carefully cuddled in a blanket to keep off the breeze.
“I’m Uncle Jack now? Sounds like I belong in a nursery rhyme.”
“Yes, and I’m Auntie Shannon, so don’t complain.”
“Wasn’t,” he said with a smile. “Took her bottle okay?”
“Like a champ. We did some tummy time to develop arm strength, and we read a couple of picture books. Well, I read, and she listened and drooled, mostly.”
He laughed. “Shannon, you’re the best at this.”
Her shoulders tensed.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
She fussed with Annabell’s hat. “No. Nothing.”
He tugged playfully at the back of her shirt. “Not nothing. Uncle Jack should know when he’s messed up.”
She pressed a cheek
to the baby’s head and let out a breath. “My dad used to say that. When I brought home a perfect test, I was the best, and he would smile and brag on me to anyone who would listen. One question wrong, though—” she shrugged “—then there was no smile.” She sighed. “Jack, your parents told you to do your best. My dad said, ‘Be the best, or don’t bother showing up.’”
“That’s a lot of pressure on a kid.”
“I learned that lesson early on. Being the best got my dad’s attention because it helped him feel good about himself to brag about me. Nothing else I did warranted a second look.”
Jack rapped a fist against the fence. “It’s wrong, Shan. Love isn’t like that. It’s not a brass scale like the one at the inn, love on one side, achievements on the other.”
“It is for my father.”
“But not your mom.”
“No, she didn’t ever expect me to be perfect, but I am all she has, and that’s a heavy weight sometimes, too. She’d never say it, but the thought of her daughter being an accomplished doctor feels like the one thing she can be proud of in this life.”
“So you gotta be the best for the father who left you and the mother who didn’t. That’s crazy.”
“We can’t all have perfect families like you did,” she snapped.
“I’m blessed, I know, but what your father did to you was wrong.”
She let out a long, low breath. “It’s hard to never be enough, but it made me strong.”
He could not stop himself from trailing a finger along her forearm. “You are enough, Shannon. You’re enough.”
She turned a tortured look at him, and it burned inside that he could not erase what her father had done. “Enough for whom?” she said softly.
“For me, and for God.”
Her eyes went dark. “I...I don’t feel like enough. Maybe I never will.”
He kept his hand on her arm. “Look at Annabell, Shan. Look at her.” For a moment, they gazed at the perfect child in Shannon’s embrace. “If she doesn’t become a doctor or a rocket scientist or get straight As in school, should Dina withhold love? Treat her like she’s a failure?”
Shannon did not answer. He realized she was crying, and he wrapped her and Annabell in an embrace. “You’re enough, honey,” he whispered. “More than enough.”
She pulled away when his family turned into the drive, his parents’ SUV with Barrett and Shelby in the back, probably discussing plans about the new addition to the family. Keegan jogged into the house, hungry as always, Jack thought, though he’d probably eaten a plateful of snacks after the service.
Shannon dashed her tears away with a quick move and separated herself from him. “Tonight,” she said. “Tonight, Dina will call.”
“Any word from Larraby on that cell-phone number?”
“Not yet.”
His mother waved to them and called out. “Come on in the house.”
Barrett held the car door for Shelby, and she climbed out.
A buzzing vibration filled the air and shot through his muscles. As soon as his brain deciphered the sound, he started shoving Shannon toward the house.
“Get inside,” he shouted.
“Jack...” she gasped, but he continued to both propel and support her, desperate to see her through the front door.
“Barrett,” he hollered.
Barrett had seen them, too, and before they could formulate any kind of a plan, the long drive was filled with a dozen bikers sporting Tide colors.
The bikers began firing their weapons, bullets peppering the porch and shattering the front windows. Jack pushed her behind the SUV, and Barrett did the same with Shelby. Tom shoved Evie there a moment later.
With bullets flying, they could not risk the dash to the house. The rear-window glass shattered next, sending fragments showering down on them. Shannon arced her torso over the baby to protect her. The shrill whinny of frightened horses carried over the whoops of the Tide as they closed in.
Jack pressed a phone into Shelby’s hand. “Call the cops.”
Shelby attempted to do so with shaking hands as Barrett crouched over her. Jack looked around desperately. He’d have to draw their fire. Create a distraction long enough for his family to get into the house. Shannon grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t you even think about it,” she said.
He started to answer when a volley of shots came from the other direction.
Keegan was behind the porch pillars, laying down cover fire for all he was worth.
Jack and Barrett didn’t waste a moment, knowing a moment might be all they had.
* * *
Shannon gasped as Jack pulled her to her feet.
“Run. Now,” he commanded.
In a haze of terror, she sprinted toward the house, following Barrett, who was between Shelby and the bikers. Revving engines and shouts and the din of bullets nearly robbed her of her senses, but somehow, she clung to the baby and ran.
Shelby and Barrett barreled through first. She stumbled in behind them. Shannon wanted to stop and find Jack, but Barrett wouldn’t allow it, propelling them both to the stairwell at the back of the kitchen.
“Basement. Stay there until it’s over.”
“Barrett,” Shelby called, terror on her face, but he was already turning away. Shelby swallowed and took Shannon’s elbow. “This is one time we’d better follow orders.”
Shannon trailed Shelby down a steep staircase, into a large carpeted room with an old rocking chair. The space was cool, slightly musty, the tall shelves crowded with old harnesses and saddles and boxes of jars waiting for their supply of tomatoes from Evie’s garden.
With Shelby’s help, she laid Annabell onto the floor. She immediately unwrapped the sobbing baby and checked her tiny limbs for injuries. Shannon’s fingers trembled, but she talked as soothingly as she could. The little body was uninjured, whole and healthy.
She expelled a breath that came all the way from the depths of her soul. “Thank You, God,” she said, surprised that the utterance felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“I’ll second that,” Shelby added.
Shannon rewrapped the baby and started pacing in tight circles and patting Annabell’s back. Could the Thorns defend their ranch until the police arrived? Another round of shots made her cry out.
“Sounds closer,” Shelby said, eyes wide.
Shannon’s nerves iced over as someone climbed down the stairs. She and Shelby shrank back into the dark corner, waiting with breath held until Evie came into view.
She ran to them. “Are you hurt? The baby?”
“No,” Shelby assured her. “We’re okay. Annabell is, too. You? The...the men?”
Her mouth contorted. “Barrett, Tom and Jack got their rifles, and they’re giving those bikers the what for until the cops arrive.”
“But they’re outnumbered,” Shannon said. “How can they...?”
Her eyes sparked. “Shannon, any one of my boys can shoot the wings off a fly. They’re in the house, protected, and the cops are on their way, so don’t let your nerves get the better of you.”
After a countering flare of anger, Shannon realized that Evie, too, needed to believe her own words. Her precious boys and her husband were in a standoff with criminals who would not hesitate to mow them down. Worse, Shannon had brought that trouble here, delivered it squarely into the Thorns’ home and given it a seat at the table.
Evie held out her arms to take Annabell. Though Shannon desperately craved the comfort of holding Annabell, she recognized the need in Evie’s face, the shadow of fear under the strong lines. Evie Thorn was terrified, too, though she would not ever give voice to the feelings. Wordlessly, she handed over the baby, and just as silently, Evie thanked her for the gesture. Something passed between them in that moment, and Shannon was struck again by the yawning depth of a parent’s
love for her child. There was something otherworldly about that connection, something most definitely divine, deeper than genes, infinitely stronger than science.
A thunk against the basement wall made them jump. Again, the door opened, and a set of boots clomped down the stairs.
Viper? Cruiser? Shannon felt a scream bubble up in her throat until she realized it was a pair of well-worn cowboy boots headed down the stairs, an old pair that had been resoled many times.
Jack hit the bottom, his gaze frantic. Barrett was right behind him. “Is anyone...?”
“No,” Shannon said. “None of us are injured.”
Sweat stood out on his brow, and his shirt was torn at the shoulder. Barrett scooped his mother, Annabell and his wife in a two-armed hug. “Cops are here. Bikers turned tail and ran. Dad and Keegan are checking the horses.”
Shannon’s limbs felt as if they moved automatically as she threw herself against Jack’s chest. She had not realized she was trembling all over until he stroked his palms up and down her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair, but she could not stop the shaking. He dipped his chin, his lips skimming her ear. “Good guys won.”
“Let’s go upstairs to the kitchen,” Evie said as she passed them. “I’ll put on some coffee.”
“Mom’s answer to everything is found in the kitchen,” Jack whispered, his warm breath still tingling her senses.
“I heard that, Jack,” Evie said, giving him a poke in the back on her way up the stairs.
With effort, Shannon detached herself, though Jack kept a hold on her elbow and tethered her to him.
She wanted to do all kinds of nutty things, such as smooth his hair, press her palm to his cheek and feel the vibrant warmth there, to simply stare at the exquisitely blue eyes. Giving herself a mental shake, she cleared her throat. “I’m okay.”
“Sure?”
She straightened. “Yes, sure. I was just shaky there for a minute. A bit of psychogenic shock. Sudden dilation of blood vessels. I’m fine now.”
He shot her that crooked grin. “Whatever you say, Doc.”