The Millionaire's Miracle

by Cathleen Galitz

  Bryce raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done and couldn’t imagine living with the ugly lie for the rest of his life. But that wasn’t to say that Gillian might not be right about there being no need to hurt Vi just to assuage his sense of guilt, either.

  Gentle fingers stroked the lines of his jaw darkened by a day’s growth of stubble. “If we ever hope to find happiness again, we have to forgive each other for being human,” Gillian said soothingly.

  Her unexpected kindness made Bryce feel worse than had she hurled hateful accusations in his face. Or threatened to tell Vi herself. At the same time, he knew he couldn’t hide this from Vi. He already had one failed marriage; he didn’t need to add another one to the list.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” he said. “You aren’t the one who betrayed your fiancée. You’re not the one who has to face a little boy who’s already started calling you Daddy.”

  Gillian couldn’t bear to hear another word. She understood how a man’s pride could get in the way of his heart, but when she was lying naked in bed with him, the last thing she wanted to hear about was another woman.

  Or her darling, healthy child.

  Considering their history, Gillian shouldn’t have been so surprised to have Bryce take a great big bite out of her heart before offering it back to her on the silver platter she’d polished to a sheen with the last shreds of her pride. She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid as to expose her vulnerabilities to the very man she’d been doing her best to forget. She’d been a fool for thinking he could ever feel anything more for her than pure and simple lust.

  Gillian rolled to the side of the bed and sat up, protectively wrapping her arms around herself.

  “You’re right. I don’t have to face anyone but myself in the mirror. Unlike you, I haven’t found anyone who’s even come close to replacing the void in my life. The best I can do right now is cling to my family. So if you’re looking for me to apologize for seducing you tonight, you might as well forget it!”

  The hard note in her voice was intended to bring the conversation to a close, but Bryce snaked an arm around her waist and tried pulling her back into the warmth of his bed.

  “It isn’t exactly fair to say that you seduced me,” he admitted.

  That Gillian was unsuccessful in pulling away from his embrace wasn’t from lack of trying. Both were panting hard by the time Bryce pinned her down with his superior strength. She groaned in protest when, in spite of her anger, desire once again flared in the pit of her belly.

  “Would you stop fighting me for a minute and listen to what I have to say?”

  At the moment, Gillian would have agreed to anything just so long as he let her go. Forcing herself to lie still, she grudgingly consented to hear him out.

  “I’d have to be blind not to notice how uncomfortable you get whenever the subject of Robbie comes up. I want you to know that I wasn’t drawn to Vi just because I wanted to be a father to her little boy. Surely you know that nobody will ever replace Bonnie in my life. Nobody.”

  He repeated the word with such conviction that it was hard for her to doubt the depth of his sincerity. Gillian felt herself relax slightly in his arms.

  “Just like nobody is ever going to be able to replace what we once had together. But as tempting as it might be to give our relationship another try, I just don’t see us going down that path again. After all, what’s really changed to make things turn out any different this time?”

  Me! she longed to tell him. I’ve changed. And I’d do anything to get you back.

  Pride warned her to remain quiet however. Indiscriminately throwing words like those around would just reopen wounds that were only now beginning to heal.

  “Your sisters still don’t trust me,” Bryce reminded her. “Just the thought of us being alone sent them racing to our doorstep at the speed of light. I don’t ever see an end to their meddling.”

  Neither did Gillian, but having grown up a whole lot over the past couple of years, she knew things would be different when it came to Bryce. Never again would she seek outside advice in matters of the heart.

  “Whatever they might have told you,” Bryce continued earnestly, “it’s important that you know I don’t think you any less a woman just because we didn’t conceive another child together.”

  He released his grip on her but kept her pinned with a soul-searching gaze.

  “Looking back, I think we both just tried too hard after we lost Bonnie. It all became so clinical. In bed. In our marriage. In what we allowed ourselves to say—and not to say—to each other.”

  Gillian lay perfectly still. If only they had somehow found the courage to have this conversation years ago, there was a good possibility they would still be married today.

  “Sweetheart,” Bryce said, seemingly oblivious to how that simple endearment moved her. “I can’t stand the thought of you living the rest of your life under the assumption that God is punishing you for something either of us did or didn’t do. I know it’s hard to understand, but sometimes bad things happen to good people for no reason.”

  The back of Gillian’s eyelids stung as she blinked back tears. Logically, it was easy enough to accept that she might never have children again and that that didn’t mean she was somehow defective. Emotionally, however, that truth was harder to believe whenever somebody posed a thoughtless question about why she didn’t just have another child to replace the one they’d lost. As if it was as easy as going to the pound to pick out a puppy after burying the family pet.

  “I want you to know that I would gladly give up every minute spent building my career to buy back time with our precious little girl. I would toss away every cent I have for a second chance just to make things right between us.”

  “Shh…” she whispered, putting a finger to his lips, which were swollen from kissing her, and trying to stop the words pouring forth from the depth of his soul. They were solace to her wounded spirit, and she would carry those sweet words to her grave.

  Gillian could no longer deny that Bryce was the one thing she wanted more than anything else in this world. More than house or home or security or even another child—although that longing would surely remain with her till the end of her days.

  Although she knew better than to give herself over to wishful thinking, she decided that tomorrow was soon enough to face reality. Tonight she intended to rewrite destiny—if only in her mind.

  Torn between desperately wanting this man and needing to let him go graciously, Gillian spent the rest of the evening committing to memory every loving detail of a night that would have to last her a lifetime: his musky, masculine scent; the salty taste of his skin; the ripple of muscles beneath her fingers; the curve of his lips brushing against her own; the texture of his hair; and the rise and fall of each and every breath he took.

  At dawn when Gillian woke to the muted sound of Bryce’s conversation with Vi on the phone in the next room, she was not at all surprised that it was followed shortly thereafter by the roar of a snowmobile pulling out of the driveway and heading in the direction of the distant horizon.

  Fifteen

  Since the ground was too hard to dig a grave by hand, Dusty used a backhoe to turn over a little piece of earth in the aspen grove behind the house. He looked relieved when Gillian thanked him for all his help and told him that she would take care of the rest herself.

  “It’s the least I can do for such a devoted companion,” she explained.

  Tamping down the last shovelful of dirt, she said her goodbyes to the one friend who’d never failed to protect her without thought to his own safety or to offer his love unconditionally. Claiming he could no longer bear the cold weather, her father shed his tears in private and watched out the window as his daughter got down on her knees in the snow to say a prayer that everyone she loved might someday go to heaven as easily as Padre had drifted away in his sleep.

  Although she hadn’t cried since Bryce had taken
off without a backward glance, it was hard fighting back the sniffles on such a sad occasion. Nearby the river gurgled beneath layers of frozen ice, hinting of the spring thaw that was sure to come, although no one could predict exactly when. Thoughts of green shoots lying dormant under the snowpack renewed in her a sense of hope that had disappeared Christmas morning on the back of a snowmobile. If the world could miraculously manage to rebirth itself every year, Gillian liked to think that it wasn’t altogether inconceivable to imagine the human spirit doing likewise.

  To that end, she imagined Vi had forgiven Bryce for his little “indiscretion” on one condition—that he promise never speak to his ex-wife ever again.

  It was not an altogether unreasonable request.

  Still, thoughts of the happy couple all cozied up on a couch with Robbie playing happily at their feet were enough to make Gillian physically sick to her stomach. And unwelcome images of them in bed together kept coming between her and a good night’s sleep. It was little wonder she felt so tired all the time. Or that she’d skipped a period.

  It was easy enough to blame her fatigue and nausea on the pressure of quitting her job, packing up her things and moving back home all within such a short time frame. Not to mention the incredible amount of work involved in running a ranch the size of this one, especially when she was in the midst of taking it in an entirely different direction. One that included getting more help for Dusty and hiring an on-site caretaker to see to her father’s daily needs so that she could attend to more pressing matters, such as laying the groundwork for Moon Cussers to become a premier destination spot for some of the finest trout fishing and hunting in the nation.

  However, the following month, when she fainted in the barn and came to with hay sticking out of her hair, Gillian could no longer dismiss the sudden changes to her health as merely stress-related. She’d already dismissed the possibility of pregnancy. Since she’d been unable to conceive when she and Bryce had tried so hard to make a baby, it seemed highly improbable he would impregnate her when he’d used a condom.

  Worried that some other medical cause was the root of her problems, Gillian was glad that she’d carried her insurance from work forward until her private coverage kicked in. She wondered if her sisters would appreciate the irony of her falling ill so soon after volunteering to nurse their father back to full health.

  Picking herself up off the barn floor, she dusted herself off, thinking there was little reason to share her concerns with anyone else until she’d given a doctor a chance to run some tests.

  Stepping out from under the shade of the barn, she paused, scarcely able to remember a time when the aspen trees had budded so soon. She hoped a wet snow didn’t bend their supple limbs to the breaking point. If they showed but a little of her father’s resiliency, they would probably be just fine. The instant she’d moved back home and assumed the burden of running the ranch, he seemed to shrug the years off his rounded shoulders.

  Beneath a blue sky that had no beginning or end, Gillian suddenly was filled with an inexplicable sense that her own little girl might be sending a gift from beyond. Hopefully it was one that would make Gillian remember that miracles could happen and that she would have her own soon.

  A little less than a week later, Gillian prepared for whatever the doctor had to tell her. Dr. Schuler greeted her with a great big smile as he stepped through the door.

  “Happy news for Valentine’s Day,” he announced jovially. “You’re going to have a baby.”

  Those words bounced off the office walls and reverberated through the decorative string of shiny red hearts taped to the front of his desk.

  “I’m afraid that you’ve got your holidays mixed up,” she said, giving her old family friend a look that let him know she didn’t find his odd sense of humor a bit funny. “April Fools’ Day is in two months.”

  His responding laughter did little to dispel her incredulity as he pulled out a pad and began writing prescriptions for prenatal care vitamins and supplements.

  Still in shock, she wondered whether Bryce even realized the condom they’d used had been faulty. She doubted it. Likely he would be just as bowled over by the news of her pregnancy as she was. Nonetheless, Gillian didn’t want to tell him the news until she was comfortable with it herself. What point was there in throwing everybody into a dither until the critical third month had passed and the threat of a miscarriage was greatly reduced anyway?

  Bryce needed some crazy, pregnant woman hanging on to him like he needed a rock tied around his neck. Especially when the rock was his ex-wife. Besides, he was already committed to marrying someone else.

  Gillian had no desire to bind him to her through a misplaced sense of duty or guilt, but knowing how passionate he felt about his own father’s lackadaisical style of parenting, she doubted Bryce would ever willingly opt for absentee fathering himself. And that would jeopardize the wonderful life he was building with Vi and Robbie, neither of whom should be punished for her poor judgment.

  If her father suspected anything out of the ordinary as the days passed, he kept it to himself. He’d been treading lightly around his daughter ever since, in a hormone-induced fit, she’d accused him of masterminding the entire drama at Christmas to get her back together with Bryce.

  He didn’t deny it.

  And, much to her surprise, Gillian discovered that she was no longer able to hold it against him.

  Later that month, Gillian found herself back in the kitchen mixing up yet another pan of brownies. Putting a hand to her back, she stretched with the languid luxury of a cat looking for a sunny spot to take a little nap. Lately she just couldn’t get her fill of chocolate. Or sauerkraut. Or the view of the Tetons out the window. Or the funny feeling that crept up on her and left a goofy smile on her face at odd times throughout the day.

  In spite of the latest curveball she’d been thrown, Gillian was so much happier than she’d been just a year ago. Make no mistake about it—life was nowhere near as perfect it had been once upon a time before heartbreak turned it upside down, but it was immeasurably better than those horrendous days following her divorce.

  Understandably it was even harder for her to let go of Bryce now than before. She hadn’t realized how often he would slip uninvited into her thoughts. A pair of geese waddling down a frozen riverbank made her long for her own wandering gander. The sound of an elk bugling in the timber made her wish she had someone to share a similar revered courtship ritual. Stars on a cloudless night brought his eyes to mind. And just then, the sound of the front doorbell sent her imagination into overdrive with silly images of a blond Adonis waiting for her on the porch holding out a bouquet of roses and a great big diamond—

  “Would you mind getting that?” her father called from the bathroom.

  Slipping the pan into the oven, Gillian gave the timer a cursory glance before padding into the living room. She wiped her hands on her apron before throwing open the front door. The reality of finding Bryce standing on the front porch was very different than she’d imagined it.

  He didn’t have any roses.

  And he wasn’t smiling.

  High altitude had nothing to do with how difficult it was forcing air into her lungs. Singed by a smoldering gaze, Gillian realized that loving this man at a distance was far safer than facing him up close and personal. The floor swayed beneath her feet. Grabbing the nearest wall to steady herself, she swallowed hard and summoned all of her lost composure.

  Her hand self-consciously went to her hair. Since her new life didn’t include a routine list of dates and the livestock paid no mind to her appearance, she’d adopted a simple look since moving back home. Her chic hairdo was growing out, and she’d barely bothered to put on a smidgen of lipstick and mascara earlier in the day.

  Once Gillian managed to get her heart to start beating again, she stammered, “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Nodding mutely, she gestured for him to come inside, then hid her shaking
hands in the deep pockets of her apron. She could think of no reason he would be here giving her such a hard, searching look unless…unless…

  Unless her father was up to his old tricks, and he’d told Bryce that she was pregnant!

  But that was impossible. How could that cagey old man have possibly guessed the truth? Had her insatiable cravings tipped him off? Her need for a nap every day? Or was it simple wishful thinking on his part?

  In the time it took Bryce to divest himself of his heavy coat and take a seat on the couch, Gillian had worked herself into a terrible state wondering whether her father had somehow conned the information out of their longtime family physician. Whatever his suspicions, he had no right to meddle in her affairs.

  Had he not chosen to lock himself in the bathroom, Gillian probably would have questioned him in front of a hostile eye witness.

  “What do you want?” she asked, not bothering to sit down herself.

  Bryce hadn’t so much as cracked a smile since he’d arrived. His voice was as rough as his gaze was direct.

  “I told Vi everything,” he said.

  Gillian’s world skidded to a halt as she stood gaping at him in total disbelief. “Why in God’s name would you do that?”

  “Because it was the right thing to do, and you know it.”

  Her mind raced out of control as she imagined the worst-case scenarios coming from such an ill-advised confession.

  “What did she say?”

  “She was deeply hurt naturally. And she wanted to know if I still loved you.”

  It was the same question Gillian had been asking herself ever since he’d driven away with her heart weeks ago. It was all she could do to refrain from demanding an answer herself.