Shameless

by Joan Johnston

  “What’s your plan when the kid turns out to look like that Tim guy?” he said. “I’d like to know.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve struggled with the knowledge that I hate Tim, and yet I’m going to have his child? That I’m scared I won’t be able to love my baby if it looks anything like him? Nevertheless, I’m determined to give my child the very best life I can—which means being the very best mother I can be.”

  “I notice there’s no father in this picture you’re painting.”

  “Are you volunteering for the job?”

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence before he said, “Nobody’s offered me the job.”

  If that was a cue for her to speak, Pippa missed it. Another silence ensued while she stared at him, her heart thundering in her chest, and he stared back, the knuckles of his bunched fists turning white.

  At last she said, “What do you want from me?”

  “Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Goodbye, Pippa. Have a good life.” He turned and stalked from the barn, leaving her standing there alone. He stopped at the door and turned back to her. She thought he was going to speak, but he merely searched her features as though to imprint them, so he wouldn’t forget how she looked.

  Pippa’s throat was swollen nearly closed, but she managed to say, “Hooroo.”

  Then he was gone.

  When she returned to the house to retrieve her luggage, he was nowhere to be found. Before she left, she dropped to her knees and hugged Wulf, who licked her face. As she walked away from the house, the lump in her throat was so huge it threatened to choke her. She realized she didn’t want to go. As much as she’d always wanted a mother, she wanted Devon more.

  But she couldn’t stay where she wasn’t wanted. He’d had his chances, and he’d let her go. He was the one who’d left the barn. Without hugging her goodbye. Without a single human touch to suggest that he’d ever wanted more from her than the brief friendship they’d shared.

  Pippa swiped at the tears that fell on her cheeks and brushed at her eyes so she could see to drive. Her interlude in the Wyoming mountains was over. She had to move on with her life. She had a mother to get to know and a child to raise. And a whole life to live without Devon Flynn.

  Chapter 30

  PIPPA CRESTED A rise in the Texas Hill Country on horseback and turned back to watch her mother canter her horse the short distance to join her. She surveyed the grassy valley dotted with mesquites and live oaks and said, “It’s so beautiful here. I don’t know how you can stand to leave.”

  “Duty calls,” her mother replied. “I can do a lot to help folks if I’m in Washington.”

  Pippa had been staying with her mother for a month, and during that time, her mum had frequently left the ranch for political fund-raisers and a myriad of meetings that were apparently necessary for her election to her husband’s Senate seat.

  “But you don’t seem happy about it,” Pippa blurted.

  Her mother looked startled, and then rueful. “I have to admit I was looking forward to all of this political maneuvering a lot more before I knew I was going to be a grandmother. I never realized what fun it would be to have a daughter.”

  Pippa felt flattered until her mother added, “Or did I miss all the hard parts?”

  Pippa laughed. “Only someone as good at being a mum as you are could believe this isn’t one of the ‘hard parts.’ ” She sobered and added, “It’s been so nice having someone I can talk with. Someone who can help me sort out everything in my head.”

  Her mother brushed away a strand of hair that had blown across Pippa’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear in much the same way as her father had when she was a child. She’d noticed that her mother often found excuses to touch her, as though she couldn’t quite believe that Pippa was real.

  Pippa had been surprised at just how many things she and her mother had in common, even though they’d never laid eyes on each other until four weeks ago.

  Neither of them could stand ketchup on their eggs, something her father loved. Neither of them liked pickles. Neither of them liked mayonnaise. They both loved horses and horseback riding. They both would rather wear jeans than a dress—even though her mother admitted that she’d spent her entire marriage to the senator without once donning a pair of Levi’s in public.

  And they both loved to read. Pippa had found that the way to the wide world outside her father’s cattle station was through books. Her mother had used books to escape a life that she’d chosen but apparently hadn’t enjoyed all that much.

  “So is everything clear in your head now?” her mother asked, searching Pippa’s face for the signs of distress that had been there when she’d first arrived in Texas. “Do you know what you want to do next?”

  “Yes.” One word, but it had taken her the better part of the month she’d been with her mother to be able to say it. Part of her decision about the future involved moving back to Wyoming.

  “You know you’re welcome to stay with me as long as you like.”

  Pippa nodded. She saw the yearning in her mother’s eyes and recognized the restraint that kept her from saying that she never wanted Pippa to leave. Pippa might have stayed, except she’d realized that once her mother was elected—and she had no doubt she would be—and went off to Washington, she’d be all alone at the ranch. Despite her differences with her father, she missed him, and she missed her little brother. They were her family.

  But they weren’t the only ones she missed.

  Devon had never left her thoughts. She regretted not admitting how much she cared for him, regretted diminishing the intimacy they’d shared. But apparently, he didn’t feel the same way. He hadn’t once called since she’d been gone, and she’d been too proud to ask her father about him when she’d spoken to him on the phone.

  They’d brought lunch with them, and both women dismounted, loosened the cinches on their saddles, and then tied their horses on a line so they could munch grass, before retrieving the saddlebags that contained everything they needed for their picnic.

  “You’ve never told me how you met and married Jonathan Hart,” Pippa said.

  “There’s not much to tell,” her mother said as she spread a blanket in the shade of a nearby live oak.

  “I’d still like to hear about it.” Pippa dropped to her knees on the blanket, grateful for the shade from the hot Texas sun, which reminded her of summers in the Northern Territory. She began passing out food, one ham and cheese sandwich for her, one for her mother, one bag of potato chips for her, one for her mother, one chocolate chip cookie with pecans for her, one without nuts for her mother.

  Her mother opened a can of soda for each of them and balanced them carefully on the uneven ground.

  When Pippa had arrived in Texas, almost the first question she’d asked her mother was how her parents had met. She’d been delighted with the story. She’d cried when she heard how they’d been torn apart and how awful it had been for her mum when she’d supposedly lost her newborn daughter.

  Pippa had the feeling that her mother had glossed over how painful those days had been. She’d been envious of the love it seemed her very young parents had shared, and she’d wondered if they could ever be reunited. It was another reason she was heading back to Wyoming. She was determined to get her father and mother back together…and see what happened.

  Pippa was curious to know more about what had happened to her mother during the years her parents had been separated, how her mother had picked up the pieces and moved on after losing someone she cared about, because it was something she was struggling with herself.

  Once they were settled and Pippa had taken her first bite, she said, “Will you tell me how you met Jonathan? How you fell in love? I really want to know.”

  “I was attending the University of Texas in Austin, and Jonathan Hart was speaking on campus.”

  “You were a student?”

  “A graduate student,” her mother said. “I was one of the hostesses for a reception held aft
er Jonathan’s speech. He was a state representative at the time. We started talking at the reception, and he asked me to go for coffee afterward. We talked all night. I found him…fascinating. He had so many hopes and dreams for the future. He planned to run for the U.S. Senate when his term as state representative was up.”

  Pippa was watching her mother closely, so she saw a wry smile come and go. “What was that smile about?”

  Her mother met her gaze, and the wry smile reappeared. “He needed a wife to run for the Senate. It turned out that I fit the bill.”

  “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”

  “He was charming. And handsome. And smart and funny. He was everything any woman could have asked for in a husband.”

  Pippa frowned. “Except you didn’t love him.”

  Her mother didn’t contradict her. Instead she said, “I admired him. I respected him.” She hesitated and then admitted, “I didn’t think I could ever love anyone the way I’d loved your father. Marriage to a man with all of Jonathan’s qualities seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “But if you didn’t love him—”

  “Why did I stay with him?”

  Pippa nodded as she picked up her soda and took a drink.

  “Life is all about compromises. We were good friends. We gave each other pleasure.” Her mother flushed at the admission. “Jonathan was faithful to me—as far as I know—and I was faithful to him. We made a good political team. Life was satisfying, with one exception.”

  “What was that?”

  “I never had any more children.”

  Pippa decided to ask the question that came to mind, even though it might be a difficult for her mother to answer it. “Was it because you couldn’t?”

  She shook her head. “Jonathan didn’t want children. It was the one thing we argued about. Divorce wasn’t impossible—although it would have caused a few problems for Jonathan politically. Perhaps I could have found another husband who wanted children as much as I did. But I told myself I had a great deal to be thankful for in my marriage. And it isn’t that easy to find someone like Jonathan. He was a very special man.”

  “Except he didn’t want children.” Pippa felt angry on her mother’s behalf. “It sounds like you did all the giving, and he did all the taking.”

  Her mother winced. “Perhaps I gave too much. But I wasn’t unhappy. It was a better marriage than most.”

  “Are you suggesting I should give up on love and make a practical marriage with someone who wants to be a father to my child?” Pippa asked bluntly.

  Her mother looked troubled. “Is that what you got from the story of my marriage?”

  What worried Pippa was the thought of her mother never falling in love again. Of her mother having settled for “a better marriage than most.” What if that was one of the ways she was like her mum? What if she never fell out of love with Devon? She couldn’t imagine a life like the one her mother had described. It felt…empty.

  Her mother deserved better than that. She deserved the life that had been stolen from her all those years ago. But that meant getting her parents back in the same place. Although they’d apparently spoken to each other at the hospital, Pippa hadn’t seen them in each other’s company even once before she left Wyoming. That didn’t bode well for any sort of future together.

  She’d actually broached the subject of a reconciliation to her father, but he’d said, “Let it go, Pippa.”

  She glanced sideways at her mother. Maybe she’d been asking the wrong parent. “Have you thought about getting back together with Daddy?”

  Her mother was startled into laughter. “What?”

  “You said you never fell out of love with him.”

  “My life is fine the way it is, Pippa. Besides, too much time has passed. Your father and I don’t have much in common anymore.”

  Pippa opened her mouth to argue further, but her mother said, “The subject is closed.”

  Pippa had learned that there was more than one way to skin a cat. She would find a way somehow, someday, to get her parents back together. That is, after she fixed her own life.

  “When are you leaving?” her mother asked as she began gathering up plastic wrap and napkins.

  “Soon,” Pippa said.

  “I love you, sweetheart. I’ve loved having you here.”

  Pippa grinned and scooted over to hug her mother. “Good. Because I’ll be here a couple more weeks.”

  She needed more time to plan. More time to figure out how she could make her life—and her parents’ lives?—turn out happily ever after.

  Chapter 31

  DEVON HAD SPENT every day of the past six weeks ruing his decision to walk away from Pippa in the barn. He knew now that he’d made a terrible mistake, but he had no idea how to undo the damage he’d done. Pippa was long gone, living at the Fairchild Ranch in Texas.

  He’d relived both his talk with Pippa at the hospital—and his parting from her in the barn the next day—a hundred times, wondering if Matt had been right about where he’d gone wrong.

  At least he’d had an excuse at the hospital for not thinking straight. He’d arrived at the door to Pippa’s hospital room with his heart in his throat, terrified that something dire had happened to her, only to find her sitting up in bed looking cute as a button in a hospital gown.

  His first impulse had been to cross the room, take her into his arms, and kiss her silly for scaring him so badly. At the last second, he’d stopped himself, recognizing that a lover’s embrace might not be welcome. Unfortunately, he hadn’t offered her a friendly hug, either.

  Once it was clear that she was all right, his feeling of ill use for being left in the dark about her pregnancy—which he’d put on the back burner when he’d thought her life might be in danger—had returned with a vengeance. Why hadn’t Pippa trusted him enough to share her secret? She could have saved him that awkward scene with his father by telling him herself. He’d felt like a fool for not noticing—or rather, for ignoring—the signs of her pregnancy, which in hindsight had been blatantly evident.

  He’d been further disheartened when Pippa kept insisting, despite their sexual interlude in the barn, that they were no more than friends. Friends who hug? Maybe. Friends who kiss? Maybe. Friends who have sex? As Pippa would say, not bloody likely! But if she’d worn blinders where his feelings were concerned, he was at fault for not tearing them off. He should have said something. He should have made it clear sooner that he’d fallen in love with her.

  But when would have been the right time to speak? A man didn’t declare his love when a woman purposefully kept him at arm’s length.

  Then she’d dropped her mother’s sudden appearance at his cabin into the conversation. He’d put himself in Pippa’s place, imagining how he would feel if his biological father showed up at the door. He’d want to spend time getting to know him. He’d added Pippa’s particular situation—her pregnancy and the fact that she was estranged from her father—and realized that her mother’s offer of a place to stay must have seemed like the answer to her prayers. How could he compete with a long-lost mother?

  He couldn’t. So he hadn’t tried.

  The next day, he’d stood by without stopping her when she’d collected her things from his cabin, fed Sultan a sugar cube, uttered a soft “Hooroo,” and walked out of his life.

  But he was beginning to think, as Matt had warned, that his decision to let Pippa leave without telling her how he really felt about her was the biggest blunder of his life. How was she supposed to know he loved her when he’d never said the words?

  On the other hand, maybe it was better this way. Maybe she was never going to be ready to love or trust another man. Maybe all this pain he felt would have been a lot worse if he’d taken the leap and told her how he felt and then discovered that she couldn’t return his feelings. Especially since loving Pippa meant raising Tim Brandon’s child as his own.

  Devon tried to remember exactly how he’d felt at the moment he’d learne
d that Pippa would be giving birth to another man’s baby. And not just any man, but a man who’d treated her so shabbily. Shock. Disappointment. Dismay. All he could think was What if she has a son, and he looks like his father? Am I going to have a reminder of that despicable man around the rest of my life?

  If he married Pippa, the answer to that question was a resounding yes.

  Then he’d realized that Pippa must be dealing with these same quandaries herself. No wonder she’d needed time away from her father to think. He could also understand better why Matt might have encouraged her to give up the child.

  But from everything he’d seen and heard, Pippa seemed committed to keeping the baby. Which meant that if Devon wanted her in his life, he was going to have to accept the child and become its father.

  It hadn’t taken him long to realize that—irony of all ironies—he was faced with the same dilemma his own father had faced. The child was bound to have some features that weren’t Pippa’s, features that would remind him every day that she’d once given her heart—and her body—to another man.

  At least he had his own experience as a child—aware that he was somehow different from his siblings and that he was being treated differently by his father—to help guarantee that the same thing never happened to Pippa’s child. It had taken only a small step further to realize that if he could love Pippa’s baby, then maybe his father had been telling the truth about loving him. He’d found that the most comforting—and reassuring—thought of all.

  But thinking about Pippa was no substitute for talking to her or holding her in his arms or making love to her. He’d missed her dreadfully since she’d been gone. He’d wondered about how she and her mother were getting along and worried about how she was feeling.

  When a month had passed, he hadn’t been able to stand the distance any longer, and he’d called her on the phone. It had been one of the most stilted conversations of his life.