As he drove away from the ugly white elephant, his hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel. He was rich again. He could pick up the pieces of his life and go in any direction he wanted. Paris. Africa. Whatever new hotspot might provide his next Pulitzer.
Or Montana.
Where he’d left a piece of his heart—and he wasn’t talking about his father’s land. Screw the lot. He knew what was important, now, what mattered most. Not land, possessions or fame. None of that would count for squat if he wound up alone. He wanted a life that included the love of one woman. Mia Zabrinski.
*
Mia checked her phone out of habit. A punitive, masochistic habit that started the morning after she broke up with Ryker.
Her baby brother’s wedding was mostly a blur because she’d let herself start to live again. She’d even fallen in love a little.
A lot.
“No. Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
Emilee stumbled into the kitchen, her hair in messy disarray that immediately sent her mother back twelve years. Mia’s heart expanded so fast she nearly doubled over. Despite what people thought—that her children were unplanned accidents, Mia had always known she’d have children. When she got her first period, she and Meg performed what supposedly was an old gypsy technique for predicting how many children a woman would have. Meg held a needle suspended on a thread above Mia’s womb. It circled three times: twice clockwise and once counter-clockwise, indicating—according to Meg—Mia would have three children.
But her surgery changed that. The only way she’d have another child was…no. She wasn’t going to think about that ridiculously remote possibility.
She crossed her arms, pressing firmly against her chest. Thanks to Ryker, her body wasn’t as ugly as she’d come to believe. But even if her breasts looked pretty, they weren’t functional. They’d never produce milk or colostrum for any other baby she might have. Ryker’s baby. She couldn’t nurse Ryker’s baby. She couldn’t watch that child’s greedy lips pull and tug on her heartstrings, establishing the same kind of bond she had with Emilee and Hunter. And that was the real reason she sent him away. He deserved the whole enchilada. He’d already lost it once, she wasn’t going to be the one to deny him fatherhood again.
Even if not being with him left a huge hole in her heart and dimmed the light in her soul.
Tears flooded her eyes before she could begin to stifle the emotions. Hormone-induced tears held power beyond normal self-control. She started to turn around, but Emilee stepped in front of her, blocking her escape. She put her thin but strong from volleyball arms around her. A second later another pair joined them. Meg, who’d brought the kids home a day early after Hunter came down with the flu.
“I don’t know why we’re crying, but I’m in,” her sister said.
“It’s because of Ryker,” Emilee whispered. “Mom broke up with him and he left town.”
“The cad,” Meg said, rubbing the flat of her hand across Mia’s back, as she had when Mia was a little girl and someone—usually Austen—did something to hurt her feelings.
Mia—the non-crier—let out a shudder. “M…my f…fault,” she managed to choke out.
“Of course, it was. You’re in self-protection mode. He should have been more patient. You’re still grieving, for God’s sake.”
Grieving?
Mia looked her sister in the eyes and recognized the truth, the wisdom, in her words. I lost so much so fast. Husband. Job. Health. Home.
She pulled in a deep breath and slowly let it out. Both Meg and Emilee backed up a step and waited.
“I was grieving.”
Meg nodded. “And, because you’re Mia, you pretended you were okay.” She looked at Emilee. “When our grandpa died, your mother sat just like a toy soldier in church and refused to say a single prayer or sing a hymn. She acted like his death didn’t bother her a bit—even though she and Grandpa were very close.”
Emilee frowned. “What happened?”
Meg thought a moment. “One day…about…six months later, wasn’t it? She saw Grandpa’s ghost.”
Emilee’s mouth gaped.
Mia pictured the incident as if it just happened. “The Big Sky Mavericks were making strategic bombing runs over the railroad tracks. When it was my turn, I tripped and nearly wiped out, but…a hand caught me by the back of my shirt—the way a mama cat picks up a kitten—and dropped me safely on the other side—not a scratch on me. I knew it was Grandpa looking out for me from above.”
“She curled into a ball and bawled her eyes out.”
“Austen was so sure I broke something, he’d carried me all the way home, crying, too.”
“Six months,” Mia repeated, her voice low and filled with emotion. “I met him too soon.”
Emilee looked at Meg. “Grandpa or Ryker?”
“Ryker,” Meg whispered.
Mia wiped her eyes and looked down at her chest. “I’ll never nurse another baby.”
Emilee’s eyes went wide.
Meg shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be a mother.”
Emilee’s jaw dropped. She looked back and forth between her mother and aunt. “Okay. I don’t want to be part of this conversation, anymore. I love you both, but…no. I’m going back to bed. Call me when breakfast is ready.”
Meg looped her arm around Mia’s shoulders as they watched Emilee shuffle down the hall in her Hello, Kitty pajamas and shearling boots. “She’s a great kid. You’ve done an amazing job with both of your children, Meeps.”
“Would you like to adopt them?”
Meg laughed. “Thanks, but they’re a bit older than I had in mind. If I decide to have a baby, I’ll do the IVF thing and start from scratch.”
“Mom hinted you might be ready to start a family. Is that why you’ve been spending more time with your nieces and nephews?”
Meg walked to the cupboard and took out two mugs. “No. I started hanging around your kids more because they’re back in Montana and I decided my work has overtaken my life. A couple of months ago, I saw a cartoon on Facebook—what do they call them? Memes?—that a student did of me. She used a picture from some werewolf movie and wrote that I was going off to live with my people.”
Mia sat up. “That was mean. Let me at her.”
“She did me a favor. I consider it a wake-up call.” She made a face. “You’re my people. You’ve been in pain and I did nothing to help. I thought giving you some space from the kids would let you be a woman, not just a mom.”
Meg poured two cups of coffee and took one to Mia.
“It worked…with Ryker’s help.”
“I like him. He’s deeper than his looks.”
Much deeper. She debated a moment then reached into her purse for the envelope delivered by special messenger a few days ago. “I let him talk me into taking some pictures. These are the only prints and I have the negatives in the safe.”
Meg checked to make sure Emilee hadn’t changed her mind, then spread them out on the granite countertop in a way Mia hadn’t dared do. Her nakedness was neither overt nor titillating. The black and whites held an artsy edge. The color shots were soft and lovely.
Meg picked Mia’s favorite. The shot pictured her sitting demurely on the bed, her back long and sleek, looking over her shoulder, her arm covering her breast, but the round, womanliness of her body was quite lovely and whole. “These are breathtaking, Mia. They should be blown up and put on display in every women’s hospital in the country.”
Tears glistened in Meg’s eyes when she looked up. “You are an inspiration, my sister. You took control of your disease and pushed the boundaries of medicine because you were brave enough to listen to your body and make a difficult decision that was right for you.”
“We won’t know if it was right for a long time.”
Meg shook her head. “You know. I know. I can tell by the color in your cheeks and the spark in your eyes. Nitro is back. She simply has to admit it to herself.”
Me
g held up her mug as if to toast.
Mia took a deep breath. Her chest swelled, her breasts rose. She straightened her shoulders, unapologetically as if to say, this is my body and I’m okay with that. Hell, she was better than okay. The woman in these pictures was beautiful. Her body whole…if not perfect.
She clinked her mug against Meg’s.
“I’m going to host Thanksgiving this year. And I’m inviting Ryker Bensen. If anybody has a problem with that…tough.”
“Cool. That’ll probably be my last outing before winter sets in and I’m snowbound in the cabin. When I come out next spring, I hope to be fertile, with my first young adult novel ready to go to my agent.” She sipped her coffee a moment then added, “And I hope to find you and Ryker building a new house together on the land you both love.”
Mia blinked. She’d never considered that possibility, but suddenly the idea took shape in her mind. A fresh start with someone who saw—and liked—the real Mia and didn’t try to change her. “You’re pretty smart, Dr. Zabrinski. And intuitive. Is that from Great-Grandma Hilda’s gypsy blood or from working with wolves for so long?”
Meg shrugged then walked to the stove. “A little of both.” She set down her mug and cracked her fingers. “Crepes, I think,” she said, leaning over to pull out a pan. “This is definitely a crepes kind of morning.”
Crepes, of course, made Mia think of France. And Ryker. She didn’t know where he was at the moment, but Ren would know. She’d track him down wherever he was and bring him back where he belonged—in Montana…with her.
Chapter 15
‡
“Do we have time to drive by Dad’s lot before we go to your girlfriend’s house?”
Ryker took his foot off the gas of his new three-quarter-ton four-wheel-drive pickup. He’d bought it off the lot in Pittsburgh, emptied his storage unit into the back and headed west—with a quick detour to Tennessee to pick up his brother, who’d insisted on making the drive to Montana with him to meet Mia.
“She’s not exactly my girlfriend…yet. But getting invited to Thanksgiving dinner with the whole Zabrinski clan sounds like we’re on the right track.”
Flynn didn’t comment. Flynn was big on action, not words. Ryker accepted that and he’d done most of the talking over the two-day drive. The only time they’d disagreed about anything was in South Dakota when Ryker wanted to stop to shoot a particularly beautiful sunset and Flynn wanted to push through to Rapid City so he could catch an episode of some television show he liked.
Brothers, Ryker thought, content in a way he hadn’t been for too many years to count.
Five minutes later, they were parked at the dirt path leading to his former campsite. The weeds had turned a grayish yellow since he’d left. He could still see the imprints of Mia’s tires, but someone had stretched a braided wire barricade across the road. Mia? Probably. It was all hers now.
“It was a great piece of property,” Flynn said, the wistfulness in his tone surprising Ryker.
“Good memories,” Ryker agreed.
“Do you think she’ll sell it to us?”
Ryker shrugged. He knew what he wanted to happen. In his daydreams, he saw Mia throwing herself in his arms and telling him she loved him and would like nothing better than to marry him and build a home together on this land. Reality might be far different. “Dunno.”
Ryker had been chafing at the bit to get back home to Montana, but he’d had a couple of things to clear up first, including a trip to France to say a proper goodbye to Colette. Time had eased relations with her family, and they’d cried together at the family plot. She was where she needed to be. He promised to return next spring when their book was published. Falling In Love In France would focus on the delight Ryker and Colette had shared—a happiness facilitated by the beautiful countryside and a people who truly knew how to celebrate love.
He’d met with his agent the day after he left his mother’s. Together, they’d reviewed his shots from his time in France and had pieced together a loose framework for the layout. The photos told their story so beautifully, very little text was needed, but to Ryker’s surprise, the words flowed as if they’d been dictated by an angel. Maybe they had.
“How do you see this going down? Meeting the family and all that?” Flynn asked. “You guys haven’t exactly been talking.”
Ryker shrugged. He probably should have been worried about seeing Mia again after the way they parted, but he was more excited than worried. “We’ve texted each other a few times. And I’m friends with her daughter on Facebook.”
Flynn rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then, he opened his door and stood on the truck’s running board to take a deep breath. “Yep. Smells like I remember it. Only colder.” He leaned over to look at Ryker. “Are you sure you’re ready for a Montana winter? When was the last time you experienced tundra?”
“It snowed at your place last year.”
“Not the same. But, I will say, it’s pretty damn beautiful here. I’d forgotten.”
He got in and turned up the heat as Ryker backed up.
“Wuss.”
“Right. Call me when it’s forty below. Then we’ll see who’s the wuss.”
Ryker grinned. He had a secret plan to keep warm. Her call sign was Nitro.
*
Mia’s hands shook as she pulled the last of the pies out of the oven. She glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time. She knew her mother and Louise, who’d been shoulder-to-shoulder with Mia in the kitchen all morning, were amused by Mia’s nervousness, but they’d kindly tolerated her distracted mistakes—like nearly pouring salt instead of sugar into the whipping cream.
She just couldn’t wait. He should be here by now.
A cool hand lightly touched her shoulder. “Relax, darling. Everything is going to be perfect.”
Mia heaved a deep sigh. “Thanks, Mom. I couldn’t have done this without you.” She smiled at Louise, too. “And you, Louise. You’ve been such a good friend to Ryker and me.”
Louise removed the festive holiday apron Mia bought for all three of them. She folded it carefully and set it by her purse. “You’re so welcome. This is going to be the best Thanksgiving OC and I have had in many years. I can’t tell you how happy we are to be here. And,” she added, “as for Ryker…” She got a misty look in her eyes, as if remembering something from long ago. “I couldn’t not help him. He reminded me so much of another lost soul I met at the library.”
Mia would have loved to hear more about that story, but just then the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Emilee shouted.
Mia and Mom exchanged a look. Her daughter had changed in the last few months. She’d let go of some of her anger. She had a new best friend. She was involved in school and her grades had shot up. Hunter seemed to be coming up from behind his video games to join family activities, too. Mia only hoped the announcement she planned to make today didn’t send all their progress as a family into a tailspin.
She crossed her fingers at her sides as she walked to the foyer where two tall gorgeous men were shaking hands and giving out hugs. Well…Ryker was. The broad-shouldered, dark-haired man at his side seemed to be fine observing the chaos with a hint of a grin on his lips. Ryker’s lips. The two were definitely brothers.
“Hey, you,” Mia said, working her way into the throng. “You made it.”
He didn’t hesitate for a second. The moment their eyes met he cleared the distance between them and pulled her into his arms for a full-on kiss. “God, I’ve missed you,” he said when he finally let her go.
Mia’s knees could barely support her and her heart raced from the bevy of emotions tumbling through her head. Joy, fear, love, lust, worry, love. Most of all love. She knew that now. She wasn’t afraid to admit it.
She looked into his eyes and said, “I’ve missed you, too. I hope you’re back for good, because I love you, Ryker Bensen.”
She didn’t really hear or register the mixed responses from the people around them.
She didn’t care what anyone said or thought. She’d talked about her feelings with the two people who mattered most: Emilee and Hunter, and they were open to their mother loving a man who wasn’t their father. As Hunter said, “Mom, that ship sailed a couple of years ago. Ryker’s cool. I’m good with this.”
Ryker hugged her again, and the two of them became the filling of a hug sandwich as Bailey, Mom, and all the kids enveloped them. As auspicious a beginning as she could possibly have hoped for, Mia thought. Her dad and brother would come around. OC gave her an encouraging nod when he looked over his sniffling wife’s head. She’d gone straight to him after greeting Ryker.
Serena and Bailey took care of introducing Flynn to everyone so Ryker and Mia could have a few seconds alone. She pulled him into the hallway and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Sorry about the show, but I didn’t want there to be any mistake. We are doing this…right?”
He lowered his head to kiss her slowly, with all the emotion she’d spent the last month dreaming about. “We are,” he said when they came up for air. “We have a lot to talk about, but…is that an oven timer I hear?”
She gave a squeak and jumped back. “Mom’s pies. The last two needed a little extra…” She dashed to the kitchen. He was right. They had to talk, but first they had to eat.
*
Emilee stood in the hallway watching her family scattered about the big, open kitchen-slash-family room. Grandpa and Bailey’s dad were vocally discussing team picks for the annual some-call-it-football game, which would take place in the back yard after their meal…if anyone could move. The volume of food being dispersed in bowls on the wide center island was crazy.
Meg joined her. “Pretty impressive, isn’t it? And for once, someone is documenting the whole thing.”
Montana Darling (Big Sky Mavericks Book 3) Page 17