“He’s alive,” she insisted. “A mother knows. I know my Brodie is alive and nothing anyone says will change my mind.”
Alex visited Sorcha and Laird every few days, although neither knew yet of Peyton’s pregnancy.
She’d stopped dreaming. Neither Kade nor Brodie came to her when she slept. Instead she woke each morning with no recollection of dreaming at all. When she slept, she saw nothing but darkness.
“Do you want me to go to your doctor’s appointment tomorrow?” Alex asked.
“Would you mind? I feel as though my parents never get a break.”
“I don’t mind, and I doubt they do either. I’d just like to be there.”
“You’re at the ten week mark,” the doctor told her, without needing to. Peyton knew exactly how far along she was.
“Can you tell if it’s a boy or a girl?” Alex asked.
“Not yet. Closer to twenty weeks for us to know for sure.”
Peyton didn’t need the doctor to tell her that either. She was certain she was having a girl.
After her appointment, Peyton waited out front in the wheelchair while Alex went to get her car. The sun felt warm on her face, and she let her eyes drift closed.
“Peyton?”
When she opened her eyes, Sorcha Butler stood in front of her. She knelt down, and Peyton’s eyes filled tears.
“Peyton, why are you here?”
Alex pulled up, saw Sorcha, and jumped out of the car.
“Ready, sweetie?” She wheeled Peyton toward the car, leaving Brodie’s mom without an answer.
Alex closed Peyton’s door and turned back. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Alex?” Laird Butler walked up behind her, and saw Peyton sitting in the car. “Is she okay?”
“She’s okay, but I need to get her home. I’ll stop by later.”
Peyton rolled down the window and motioned for Alex to come closer. “Invite them to the house, if Mrs. Butler feels up to it.”
“Are you sure?”
Peyton nodded and rolled the window back up.
Neither spoke on the ride back to the house. Alex came around the car to help Peyton, who swatted at her. “I’m fine, Alex. I’m having a baby, I’m not paralyzed for God’s sake.” Peyton slammed the car door. Alex had her hand over her mouth, and Peyton expected her to bitch at her, or cry, as she was prone to do lately. Instead, Alex was laughing.
“What?” Peyton laughed too.
“It’s so good to see Peyton-the-bitch is back. I hate the milquetoast version of you.”
“Milquetoast? What the hell is milquetoast? Although, it sounds kind of good. Like toast and warm milk?”
“Hungry too? I’m so happy right now.”
“What possessed me to invite Brodie’s parents over?”
“You did what?” Peyton’s mom came out the front door of the house.
“I need to tell them, Mom. Seriously, they deserve to know.”
“I wondered.”
Peyton looked at Alex. “But she didn’t say anything. She never says anything.”
“Don’t complain. Spend a week with my mom, and you’ll realize how good you have it.”
“Yeah!” Her mom fist-pumped the air, which only made Alex and Peyton laugh harder.
“Did I hear you say you’re hungry?”
“Starving. Can you make me some toast? And some warm milk?”
“Good Lord, Peyton. Where did you come you with that craving?”
“Blame her.” Peyton pointed at Alex, who shrugged.
Two of the other survivors found Brodie in the woods and carried him back to the camp they’d built from the wreckage.
For two days, they told him, he’d slipped in and out of consciousness. They were certain he wasn’t going to make it, but today he felt better. He remembered dreaming about Kade and Peyton—crazy dreams born of his delirium. Most of his dreams were about being rescued, and going home to find Peyton waiting for him. Some of his dreams were so far out there, he gave them no credence. The ones about being rescued though, he clung to.
He drifted to sleep again, and dreamt he heard the thwpthwpthwpthwp of a helicopter flying low. It was the shouts and screams he heard seconds later that brought him fully awake.
“Thanks for inviting us to your home, Mrs. Wolf.”
“Sorcha, please call me August. You know my husband, Jamison.”
“Laird, Sorcha,” Peyton’s father greeted Brodie’s mother and father. “Can I bring something to drink?”
“Whatever’s open, Jamison, thank you.”
Her dad came back in with an unmarked bottle of red. He poured everyone a glass but Peyton.
“I have something to tell you,” she began. When Laird’s phone pinged, he apologized and took it from his pocket.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to take this.” He excused himself, and Peyton took a deep breath. She leaned forward and held Sorcha’s hands.
“Oh, thank the Lord,” they heard Laird shout from the kitchen, he came running back into where his wife waited with Peyton, Alex, and her parents. “They’ve found him. He’s alive! Sorcha! He’s alive!”
Hearing Brodie’s father’s news, Peyton felt the darkness pull her under.
“Peyton?” Alex was tapping her face with her finger. “Peyton!”
She opened her eyes and looked over at Brodie’s parents who were handing the phone back and forth.
“They’re talking to someone with the search party. Evidently Maddox radioed that they located the crash site, and by some miracle, Brodie is still alive. They’re trying to determine his condition now.”
A few minutes later, Sorcha wiped her happy tears, and sat down next to Peyton. “What did you have to tell us, lass?”
Peyton looked at her mom, who nodded her head through her own tears.
“Sorcha, Laird. I’m pregnant. And Brodie is the father.”
At first Peyton thought Sorcha might faint, as she had herself only a few minutes earlier. She didn’t, but she didn’t say anything either. She reached for Laird’s hand and gripped it hard enough that he winced. “I told you,” she whispered, before she stood and left the room.
Laird sat down next to Peyton, and hugged her.
“Is she okay?”
“Oh yes, she’s fine. Just overwhelmed. You see, she told me Maddox and Naughton were going to find Brodie. She also told me that when they did, you would tell him he was going to be a father.”
Peyton felt light-headed again, which Alex noticed. “What do you need Peyton?”
“I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“It might be a good idea for me to lie down for a bit.”
“I’ll help you upstairs.”
When Peyton started to protest, Alex put her hands together. “Please,” she mouthed.
“Seriously, are you okay?”
“Can you close the door?”
“Sure, of course, sorry. God, this is crazy, isn’t it? He’s okay! They found him. He’s coming home.”
“Alex…”
“What? Jesus, this is a frickin’ miracle!”
“Alex.”
She sat at the end of Peyton’s bed. “What? I’m sorry. Go. Talk. Say whatever you’re going to say.”
“He left me long before he was in a plane crash, Alex.”
“But don’t you think this changes things?”
“Why would it?”
“Peyton, how could it not?”
“He left me, Alex. How are you not hearing me?”
“I hear you, but I don’t understand.”
“I think I’d like to be alone for a while. Tell my mom it’s okay for them to tell the boys.”
“Peyton—”
“Leave me alone, Alex.”
“You aren’t well enough to travel, Brodie. As soon as you are, we’ll get you on the first flight home. I promise.”
No amount of pleading made any difference. Nothing he said swayed his brothers. He couldn’t make them understand
how important it was for him to get back to Peyton.
He spoke with his parents yesterday, and as much as they wanted to get on the next plane to Argentina, his mother’s heart wasn’t healthy enough yet for travel.
He tried to contact Peyton, but she didn’t answer, or return his call. He asked Maddox if he’d talked to Alex, and while he said he had, he knew nothing about Peyton. Finally, when they were alone, he begged Naughton to be straight with him. Had something happened to her? Were they keeping something from him? Naughton shook his head, and told Brodie he didn’t know, but when his brother wouldn’t look him in the eye, Brodie knew there was something they were hiding from him.
“Give it three or four days,” the doctor told him when he came in this morning. “I’ll release you to travel by the end of the week.”
Maddox sat near the end of the hospital bed, staring out the window.
“If you were in my place, I wouldn’t do this to you.”
“No one is doing anything to you, Brodie.”
“I need to talk to her, Mad. You don’t understand how important it is that I talk to her.”
“Why now, Brodie? You went weeks without talking to her, from what I understand.” Maddox got up and walked out of the room. Brodie didn’t see either of his brothers until the next morning.
“We’ve made arrangements for a medevac flight,” Naughton told him. “It’s essentially an ICU in the sky. The doctor said those were the only conditions under which he’d release you.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate this.”
Naughton sat on the edge of the bed, and wrapped his hand around the back of Brodie’s neck. “I’m just so fucking glad we found you. For now, that’s all I can think about. There will come a day though, Brodie, that I have every intention of kicking your sorry ass.”
“I’m sorry, Naught.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“It isn’t my story to tell.”
“Tell me this much, is she okay?”
“Okay is relative, brother, and that’s all I have to say. If you keep pushing me, I’ll cancel the medevac, and you can stay here until the doctor thinks you’re well enough to fly commercial.”
Naughton got up and walked out before Brodie could respond.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course, Dad. I was about to come downstairs anyway.”
“I’d rather talk privately.”
Peyton sat up in bed, and scooted over so her father could sit next to her.
“I received a call from Laird Butler. Brodie will be home tomorrow. They flew him to Miami yesterday. He’ll stay in the hospital there until tomorrow morning.”
“I see.”
“He’ll be in the hospital here for several more days. From what I understand, he was very close to death when they found him.”
Peyton hands rested on her stomach. It was too early for her to feel the baby move, but there were times she could swear she felt her kick.
“Have you made any decisions, Peyton?”
“No, Dad. I haven’t.”
“I’d like to suggest you consider going to see him.”
That was her dad’s way. He never told her she had to do anything. Instead he suggested she consider doing what he asked.
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.
Instead of getting up, Peyton decided to say in bed longer. The boys were off school today, and soon would come tumbling in, excited to talk more about Brodie’s rescue.
They knew he had been in Argentina when the plane he was on crashed. Their assumption that Brodie would never return, like Kade hadn’t, left them giddy with the excitement of his homecoming. They understood their mom was having a baby, but had few questions about what that meant for them as a family. Again, they incorrectly assumed that once Brodie returned, they would be a family.
They fought over who would be her primary caregiver on the weekends. Finally, in order to stop their bickering, her mom assigned Saturdays to Jamison and Sundays to Finn. On their “day” they brought her meals either in bed or on the sofa, were responsible for checking on her at least once an hour to see if she or “the baby” needed anything. While Peyton thought her family was taking her bed rest a little too seriously, the two times she thought she was losing the baby, devastated her. If keeping the little girl growing inside her safe meant she had to stay off her feet, avoid stress, and allow her family to care for her, that was what she would do.
Jamison came in, sat on the side of her bed, and snuggled her. “Morning, Mama.”
“Hi, sweetheart. You could’ve slept a little later this morning. I know you were up late last night.”
“It’s my day.”
“I know, honey, but I’m fine, and so is our little miss.”
“How do you know the baby is a girl?
“I just do. It’s called mother’s intuition.”
“Can I feel?”
Peyton moved the blanket aside, and raised her pajama top. Her tummy was only slightly protruded, but soon, it would begin expanding. With Jamison, she hadn’t started showing until she hit the four-month mark. With Finn, it seemed her stomach started to grow as soon as she realized she was pregnant.
Jamison’s hands were cold, and Peyton giggled when he rested them against her. He leaned over and kissed her tummy. “Good morning, baby sister,” he whispered. Peyton cupped the back of his head with her hand. Her eyes filled with tears, in part because her child was so sweet, and also because the emotional roller coaster she was on brought giggles and tears together so often.
“What’s her name?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure yet. Do you have any ideas?”
“You should ask Brodie what he thinks.”
Peyton didn’t respond. There was no need to drag Jamison into the turmoil she felt whenever she thought about Brodie.
“What do you want for breakfast? Eggs, like every other day?” He smirked.
“No, I think I’ll mix it up today. How about some yogurt?”
“You need to eat more than yogurt, Mom.”
“From Grandma’s mouth to yours.”
“It’s my day. I’m responsible for you today.”
“Yes, Jamie. Tell you what, I’m so hungry this morning, I’ll eat whatever you bring me. You decide what you think will be the best breakfast for me and your baby sister.”
He shot off the bed, and ran downstairs. Lord knew what he would come back with.
“Knock, knock.” Alex tapped on the bedroom door.
“Come in. You’re here early.”
“I’m opening Stave today. I think we should, especially with the festival next weekend.”
“Oh, okay. That’s good. I, uh—”
“I’m just opening on the weekend for now. Friday through Sunday. Sam and Addy are excited for the hours, I was a little worried they’d both find other jobs, but so far, they’re waiting it out.”
The news of Brodie’s rescue had likely spread throughout San Luis Obispo County. It was right to open Stave, and give people a place to celebrate.
“I talked to Maddox last night.”
“Are you on again?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”
“Does he know about the baby?”
“Yeah.”
“Does Brodie?”
“Not yet. He wanted to know if you were going to tell him.”
“He isn’t even back yet.”
“I don’t think he’s pressuring you. I think he just wanted to know. He said Brodie asks about you constantly.”
“Why?”
“Do you want to have this conversation again?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t think so.” Alex kissed Peyton’s forehead. “I’m off to bring wine to the masses. I’ll be by tomorrow.”
“Hey, Alex?”
“Yeah?
“Can you bring some clam chowder back with you? And so
me garlic bread?”
“Sure you can wait until tomorrow?”
“No, but since I’m not supposed to leave the house, I doubt my parents or the boys will let me drive to Cambria.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Peyton picked her cell phone up off the nightstand, and scrolled through Brodie’s messages. Thus far they’d all said close to the same thing. He begged her to get in touch with him, begged her to allow him to explain why he’d left the way he had after they made love. Each one ended the same way. He told her that whether she believed him or not, he loved her, and he’d spend the rest of the life he’d been spared, proving it to her, whether or not she could ever love him in return.
He left two since she fell asleep last night. She brought the phone to her ear, and tapped the first one.
“Peyton, it’s Brodie.” His voice sounded stronger than it had in his first few messages. “I have something I need you to know, and since you won’t return my calls, this is the only way I know to tell you. It’s about the last night we were together. You see, that night—”
Peyton couldn’t listen to another word. She deleted that message, the one that followed, and all those he’d left before it. She refused to listen to him tell her he regretted their night together, the one that gave her the precious gift growing inside her.
Peyton wrapped her arms around the place where her baby girl grew. “You will never know you weren’t wanted, you will never know that one of your parents didn’t love you. Never.”
Her arms were still holding her stomach when the cramping pain woke her. She felt sticky wetness between her legs, and stumbled to the bathroom in the hall. She screamed when she saw the amount of blood seeping through her pajama bottoms, and fell to the bathroom floor.
“Peyton!” she heard her dad yell, his footsteps getting closer.
“Hurry, Dad!” she screamed. “I think I’m losing the baby.”
An hour later, the nurse ran the fetal monitor over her stomach, and shook her head. “I’m not hearing a heartbeat, Peyton. I’m sorry. I’ll give you some privacy.”
Her mother held her as she sobbed. Her mother knew this pain—how many times had she felt it herself? It was worse than Peyton ever imagined. She didn’t feel any different than she had when she heard Kade had been killed. Her baby was dead. It wasn’t a “miscarriage,” it was a death.
The Promise (Butler Ranch Book 1) Page 18