Pride and Pregnancy

by Sarah M. Anderson

  This time? He didn’t want to deal with questions about who Caroline was and why she was here. It was bad enough that he was introducing her to Celine.

  What the hell was he doing here? There wasn’t supposed to be anything between him and Caroline, beyond her role in an ongoing investigation.

  But had that stopped him from bringing her to DC? Or introducing her to his in-laws? Or thinking about a relationship after this?

  Nope. All those things he shouldn’t be doing, he was doing them anyway. Just to keep her closer.

  Celine went on, “And it was no trouble at all. I had so much fun putting the outfits together. I so miss shopping for Stephanie.” Her voice trailed off and her eyes got suspiciously shiny. “But then, I suppose I always shall. I do try to keep her spirit alive. This was her foundation, you know. She started it with her trust fund money. Thomas and I keep it going to honor her memory.”

  “I’ve always admired what the Rutherford Foundation does,” Caroline said, and oddly, she sounded serious about it. “I don’t think Tom knows this, but I’ve actually donated a fair amount of money to the Rutherford Foundation over the years. I admire your objectives about educating girls and women around the world.”

  “You have?” Celine smiled broadly, any lingering remnants of grief vanished from her eyes. “Why, that’s wonderful! It’s always a pleasure to meet people who appreciate what we’re doing—isn’t it, Thomas?”

  “It is,” he said, staring at Caroline with curiosity. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I prefer surprising you.”

  “Oh, I can see we’re going to get along famously,” Celine said, linking her arm with Caroline’s and pulling her away from Tom. “Thomas needs someone who can keep him on his toes. Come, I must introduce you to everyone. Thomas?” she called over her shoulder. “Are you joining us?”

  For a long second, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t talk, even. All he could do was look at Celine and Caroline fast becoming friends and trail along behind the two women, shadowing them like a bodyguard. He was fine. It was just the shock of seeing Celine give what looked a lot like a seal of approval to Caroline. That was throwing him for a loop. Every few feet they paused and greeted someone. Celine introduced Caroline as if they were the oldest of friends.

  What would Stephanie think of this? Would she have laughed at him because, as usual, he was taking everything too seriously? Would she have been hurt that Tom was bringing another woman to Stephanie’s event? It wasn’t like Caroline was replacing anyone. She and Stephanie didn’t look alike, didn’t have the same sense of humor and definitely didn’t have the same background.

  All they had in common—besides the ability to fill out an evening gown—was that, for some inexplicable reason, they both cared for Tom.

  And he cared for them.

  Caroline laughed at something Celine said to Representative Jenkins, and Celine beamed at her. Celine liked Caroline.

  Caroline kept him on his toes and didn’t let him get away with anything. Even when he steamrolled her, she didn’t simper or whine. She gave as good as she got, and he loved it when she did.

  Stephanie would’ve loved Caroline. The realization made his chest tighten.

  Mark Rutherford fell into step next to him. “Tom,” he said, giving Tom a strong handshake. “Good to see you.”

  “Mark,” Tom said. He nodded to where Celine was showing Caroline off. “I would introduce you, but Celine has already staked her territory.”

  Tom liked his in-laws—he always had. They had never made him feel like he was a dirt-poor Indian who didn’t belong. Even if that’s what he had been, once upon a time. Tom wondered if they’d approved of Stephanie marrying him, but he’d never know. They had always treated him with warmth and respect.

  Mark had aged quite a bit since Stephanie’s death. He and his daughter had always been close. His hair had gone almost white within the year, and he had not sought reelection after his term finished in the Senate. His appearance was just another reminder of how much time had actually passed.

  “How have you been?” Tom asked.

  “Getting by. I’ll be glad when this fund-raiser is over. It consumes Celine for months on end. And you know how she is when she gets focused on something.” They shared a laugh, but Tom couldn’t help looking at Celine and Caroline, who were continuing to make new friends. He knew exactly how his mother-in-law was when she focused on something—and right now, Caroline was the beneficiary of that focus.

  “I’m sorry this is awkward,” he began, because it felt awkward to him. “But it was unavoidable.”

  Mark waved this away. “No need to explain. We’re thrilled to meet her.”

  Tom was so focused on Celine and Caroline that he almost missed what Mark had said—and put it together with something Celine had said earlier—about how Tom needed her to keep him on his toes.

  Oh, no. Yeah, he’d been thinking about keeping Caroline closer—but he didn’t know what that meant right now. It didn’t mean wedding bells and babies, that was for sure—and he couldn’t have the Rutherfords jumping to that conclusion. He needed to nip this in the bud. “I’m not here with Caroline.”

  Mark gave him a look that Tom had seen many times over the years, one that always made Tom squirm. “Am I reading this wrong? You show up with a gorgeous woman you can’t stop staring at and I’m supposed to believe you two aren’t involved?”

  “She’s part of a case.” To his own ears, Tom sounded defensive. “You know how important my work is,” Tom went on. “The job’s not done.”

  True, none of that had exactly stopped Tom from sleeping with Caroline. Nor had it prevented him from bringing her here. Or telling her he wanted to see her after this trip, too.

  His stomach felt like a lead balloon. It’d been one thing when they’d been tucked away in his house or at the hotel, far from prying eyes. But he hadn’t been able to leave their relationship there. He’d convinced himself that it was all right—no, vital—to bring Caroline to this party and introduce her to the Rutherfords. And it was a lie. A selfish, willful lie just because he couldn’t bear to leave her at a damned hotel in South Dakota.

  What had he done? Celine and now Mark were both taken with Caroline. They were welcoming her into their world with open arms. Tom realized he was setting the Rutherfords up for more heartbreak when this...thing, whatever it was with Caroline, ended. He couldn’t bear to hurt his in-laws. They’d already lost their daughter.

  But more than that, Tom had essentially announced to the whole world that she was important to him when he was supposed to be hiding her, keeping things quiet. He was supposed to be protecting her, and instead, he’d opened them both up to more scrutiny. If someone were looking for something to use against either of them, Tom had just handed it to them on a silver platter.

  This was too much. He’d left himself exposed and that made Caroline vulnerable. Hell, it made Celine and Mark vulnerable, too.

  What had he done?

  Mark’s eyes sparkled with humor. “I’ve known you a long time, Tom. I’ve watched you force yourself to attend these things year after year when it’s obvious you’d rather be anywhere else. And I’ve watched women flirt shamelessly with you.” He clapped Tom on the shoulder and chuckled. “You could’ve had your pick, but they’ve all been invisible to you. But her?” he said with a nod of his head to where Caroline was laughing at something the House minority whip was saying, “You see her. Tell me, is that more important than a job?” Sadness stole over his face again. “It’s not. Trust me on this one.”

  Tom gaped at the man, fighting a rising tide of indignation. “I was married to your daughter, sir. I loved her.”

  Mark looked at him with a mixture of kindness and pity. “And she died. We’ll never forget her—she’s the reason we’re all here. But we moved
on.” He leaned in close, kindness radiating from him. “Maybe you should, too.”

  Twelve

  “I can’t believe I met the Speaker of the House!” Caroline marveled as she collapsed back in the seat of the limo. The whole evening had an air of the unreal about it.

  Celine Rutherford had—well, she’d worked miracles. Caroline had felt perfectly dressed—because Celine had gone shopping. Caroline had met seemingly every mover and shaker in Washington, DC—because Celine introduced her.

  And then there was Tom—who was currently sitting silently on the other side of the limo, staring out the window as the lights of DC went zipping past. He seemed...lost.

  If she’d thought she’d understood that he was the strong, silent alpha male—then this evening had blown that image out of the water. He’d made the rounds by her side, smiling broadly and making small talk like a pro.

  Now that the high of hobnobbing with the rich and famous was wearing off, she was acutely aware that she’d been awake since before dawn, had taken two connecting flights and socialized in a high-stress situation.

  Still, she reached over and laced her fingers with Tom’s. This was not how she’d planned to spend her day, but she was glad she’d come. “I had a wonderful evening. Celine and Mark were a delight.”

  At one point, she’d seen Mark Rutherford put his arm around Tom’s shoulder in a fatherly manner.

  But more than that, he’d spoken warmly with his in-laws—it was obvious that he cared for the Rutherfords a great deal, and they obviously thought the world of him.

  It was the sort of loving relationship she’d lost when her parents had passed.

  Tom had lost so much. She was glad he had the Rutherfords. He needed more people who cared about him in his life. It bothered her to think of him feeling as alone as she sometimes had after her parents’ death.

  She was being maudlin—which was probably just due to the exhaustion. It had been a long day, after all.

  Tom might suck at talking about his feelings, but his actions spoke for him. It was one more piece to the puzzle that made up Tom Yellow Bird.

  Dangerous FBI agent. Reserved private citizen. Thoughtful former son-in-law.

  Incredibly hot lover.

  Somehow, it all came together into a man she couldn’t help but be drawn to. Ever since she’d first seen him in her courtroom, she’d felt something between them, and that something was only getting stronger.

  “I’m glad to hear this evening wasn’t too hard for you.”

  There was something in his smile, in his tone that gave her pause. “Was it for you?”

  He shrugged, as if his pain were no big deal. “No matter how many times I do this, I still don’t belong.”

  She gaped at him in shock. He’d blended in seamlessly while she’d struggled not to be starstruck. How could he possibly think he hadn’t belonged?

  “But you do,” she told him. “Celine and Mark—they adore you, and you obviously care for them, too. You fit in better than I did.” If it hadn’t been for Celine, Caroline would have been hiding in the corner with a glass of wine, too anxious to brave the crowd.

  He pinned her with his gaze—one she’d seen before. It was the same look he’d given the defendant in the court case—the day she’d met him.

  Her back automatically stiffened. Why was he glaring at her? But then, just underneath that stone-cold exterior, she glimpsed something else—something vulnerable.

  Scared, she thought as he began to speak. “Do you know where I came from?” he demanded, his voice quiet. It still carried in the limo. “Do you have any idea?”

  She blinked in confusion. “You said... I thought...the reservation that’s less than thirty miles from your house?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t tell you where I’m from. Because I don’t belong here.” His scowl deepened. If she didn’t know him like she did, she might have been afraid.

  But she wasn’t. “The Red Creek tribe is pretty small—fewer than four thousand people. I grew up on the banks of the Red Creek curve in a little...” He looked out the window, but not before she caught a flash of pain on his face. “My town was about four hundred people. We didn’t even have a gas station. We had electricity at my house, but we pulled our water from the river.”

  She could tell that admission had cost him something. He was such a proud man—but he’d grown up in what sounded like very poor circumstances.

  How many people knew this about him? His late wife, for sure—but did the Rutherfords know? Any of those people who had been so happy to shake his hand tonight?

  She sure as hell wouldn’t have guessed it—not from his slick suits and his muscle cars and that cabin that had the finest money could buy, because quality was always worth it.

  Why was he telling her this? Was he trying to scare her off—or convince himself that he still didn’t belong? “We were all scraping by on government surplus foods,” he went on, as if being poor was somehow a character flaw. “The only way to change your fate was to get off the res—so that’s what I did. I decided to be an FBI agent—don’t ask why. I have no clue where I got the idea.”

  As he spoke, she could hear something different in his voice for the first time. There was an accent there, something new in the way he clipped his vowels. It was the prettiest thing she’d ever heard.

  She smiled, trying to imagine Tom Yellow Bird as a kid. All she got was a shorter guy in a great suit. “But you actually did it,” she said softly, hoping to draw him out.

  “I did. I got a college scholarship, got my degree in criminal justice and headed for DC. It was this huge city,” he added, sounding impossibly young. “I’d never been anywhere bigger than Rapid City, and suddenly there were cars everywhere and people and they were all wearing nice suits—it was crazy. If I hadn’t had Rosebud and, through her, Carlson—I honestly don’t know if I could’ve made it.”

  “It was that big of a culture shock?”

  “Bigger. I was used to the way people on the reservation treated me—as someone to be proud of. I was an athlete and I was smart enough to get a scholarship. I was a big fish in a very small pond, but DC—that was the whole ocean and it was filled with sharks. And I...” He shook his head and she could feel some of his tension fading away. “I was nothing to them. With this last name? Nothing but a curiosity.”

  She tried to picture it. After all, she was from Rochester, Minnesota, originally—and that was a lot smaller than Minneapolis. But she had been a girl moving from a mostly white town to an even larger mostly white town. People never looked at her as a curiosity, because she blended in.

  No, she couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like to go from living on government surplus cheese to being invited to bigwigs’ parties in DC because your friend thought it would be fun.

  She thought about Tom’s house, how it was off the grid but still in the lap of luxury. He squeezed her hand, which she took as a good sign.

  Had something happened at the party to upset him? Or was it just seeing his in-laws? She didn’t know.

  “Is it still like that on the reservation?”

  “A few years ago they built a hydroelectric dam. The tribe owns forty percent of it and they used a lot of local labor in the construction. The res still isn’t a wealthy place, but it’s better. Ask Rosebud about that when you meet her—it’s her story to tell.”

  Caroline blushed from the tips of her toes to her hair, because he’d again, just casually, tossed off the fact that she would be meeting one of his oldest friends. That she’d be part of his life moving forward.

  Which was what he’d said in the shower, too. But...

  She wanted to spend time with him. But she couldn’t keep doing what they’d been doing—running away together and ignoring the real world. The last three and a half days had been risky and dan
gerous and if she kept up this sort of behavior, it might well come back to haunt her.

  Still, she wanted to meet his friends. She had the feeling it was another piece to the puzzle that was Tom Yellow Bird. “I’ll do that.” She was trying to hear what he wasn’t saying, because if she knew anything about Tom, it was that what he didn’t say was almost as important as what he did. “Have you changed the reservation for the better?”

  “I try,” he went on. “I honor Stephanie by keeping most of her money in the Rutherford Foundation. I have the safe house I told you about. I also fund a bunch of college scholarships. If there’s a kid who wants to work hard enough to get off the res, I’m going to help them do it. And no,” he added before Caroline could ask the obvious question, “it’s not all her money. I invested wisely. It’s amazing how easy it is to make money when you already have it,” he added in a faraway voice. “Simply amazing.”

  She knew how damned hard it was to start from nothing, to be buried under such debt that a person couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sleep. “I don’t know many FBI agents who run charities. You could have retired, you know.”

  “The job wasn’t done. It still isn’t.” Something about the way he said that sent a shiver down her spine. “Besides, I don’t run the charities. I pay people to run them for me.”

  “Are any of those people members of the Red Creek tribe?”

  His lips curved into a smile that was so very tempting. “Maybe.”

  And that, more than anything else, was why she was in this car with Tom Yellow Bird. He was just so damned honorable. Yes, he was gorgeous and financially independent—but there was more to him than that.

  She had a momentary flash of guilt. He was protecting his people and fighting for what was right. Hell, he was protecting her. He was protecting her and sweeping her off her feet, and she wasn’t worthy of him. Because she couldn’t make the same claim to being honorable.

  She had done her best to make up for her grand mistakes—but a mistake was something you did accidentally. That was the definition of her pregnancy scare, sure. But more likely it was a mistake she’d made by being involved with Robby, by not taking the proper precautions. And after that scare, she’d buckled down. No more Robby; no more casual attitudes about birth control. From then on, she was careful, and it’d paid off. She hadn’t experienced that kind of heart-stopping terror again.