All the blood drained from Brian’s face. He thought he might faint.
I’m going to be a father.
Why hadn’t Tag said something? Why had she told her family before she’d told him? What did it mean? And, Lord in heaven, what should he do now?
TAYLOR HAD LEFT Kingdom Come within minutes of her revelation and without speaking to anyone. She’d planned to tell her family about her pregnancy, but not like that. She’d intended to sit down with her sisters and father and explain her plan to raise her child on her own. She couldn’t believe she’d let her frustration with Vick goad her into revealing her pregnancy so abruptly to her family—and to Brian’s brothers—while Brian remained in the dark.
Taylor knew about the two married Grayhawks’ invitation to eat Christmas supper with Angus Flynn, which meant Connor and Devon were headed straight to the Lucky 7. Her pregnancy, with a Flynn baby, was a tidbit too juicy not to be shared with Brian.
When Taylor got home, she settled in her chair, stuck her feet on her ottoman, opened a Stephen King novel, and waited. She’d built the fire so high that flames were shooting up the chimney, but the heat did nothing to thaw the block of ice in her chest that lately had passed for her heart. Soon, she hoped, the awful coldness inside would be blanketed by the warmth of Brian’s arms holding her close. She didn’t think it would be long before she got a phone call. It was even more likely he would show up at her door.
Except, neither happened. There was no call. And no one knocked on her door.
Taylor found it hard to believe that Connor or Devon, or one of their wives, hadn’t said something to Brian. He must know by now that she was pregnant with his child. He should have contacted her, if for no other reason than to discover how many months she was into her pregnancy. He could have no way of knowing whether she’d gotten pregnant when they were together in August, or whether their lovemaking in mid-November had resulted in a child.
The silence in her bedroom that evening, as she pulled the covers up over her shoulders, was deafening. She’d gone to bed at ten, unwilling to maintain the forlorn hope that Brian would appear on her doorstep. If he hadn’t come or contacted her by now, hours and hours after he must have heard the news, he wasn’t coming.
To say she was devastated by Brian’s behavior was to underestimate her feelings. Taylor felt as though she’d been poleaxed. Her chest ached. Her stomach was tied up in knots. She felt alternately feverish and chilled to the bone. There was no reason, other than being on his deathbed, that could excuse Brian’s failure to reach out to her.
She sat bolt upright in bed. Maybe he’d been so excited—so elated—by the news of her pregnancy that he’d been driving too fast on his way to her and had swerved off the icy roads and crashed and was even now in surgery to save his life.
Someone would have called you. Admit it, Tag. Brian didn’t come, because he doesn’t want this baby. He doesn’t want you. You’ve been kidding yourself. You’re the most unlovable person on the planet. How could you have ever believed that Brian Flynn had any intention of spending his life with you?
The sudden pounding on her front door shattered the ice in Taylor’s frozen heart. Her feet got tangled in the sheets, and she swore in frustration as she struggled to get out of bed, threw on a robe, and turned on some lights on the way to the front door.
He came! He’s here. He cares.
She opened the door and couldn’t believe her eyes. “Vick! What are you doing here this time of the night?” She did her best to hide her severe disappointment. She didn’t want to speak to anyone who wasn’t Brian.
Her twin had obviously figured that out, because she shoved past Taylor and entered the house. She didn’t stop, just kept going straight to the kitchen.
Taylor watched in disbelief as Vick filled the coffeemaker and set it to perking, then searched the cupboards until she found coffee cups.
“I don’t usually drink coffee this late at night,” Taylor felt compelled to point out. “Neither do you.”
Vick set the coffee cups on the island that separated the two of them and said, “We need to talk.”
“I need my sleep.”
“I get it. You’re pregnant. Your body needs rest. This is important.”
“It can’t wait till morning?” Her throat ached with unshed tears.
Please leave me alone. I want to curl up in a ball and pull the covers over my head and cry and cry and cry.
“No, it can’t wait. I’ve put this off for too long as it is.”
Taylor arched a brow and waited for her twin to speak.
Vick took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry.”
“You barged in here to say you’re sorry?”
Vick came around the bar, grabbed Taylor by the arm, and hauled her into the living room, pressing her down on the couch with a hand on her shoulder and then sitting down next to her. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”
Taylor frowned. “And this confession couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
Vick looked down at her hands, which were knotted so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. “I feel awful, because I know you couldn’t have wanted to announce your pregnancy to the family that way. Or maybe at all.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because when I was pregnant, I sat at the dinner table trying to get the courage to say something and never could.”
Taylor’s jaw dropped. “When were you pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened to the baby?”
She saw the guilt and grief in Vick’s eyes. “My son, Cody, is five. He lives in Montana with his father, Ryan Sullivan, to whom I’m not married.”
Vick rose and began pacing in front of the fireplace. “I’ve been beside myself because Sullivan finally agreed to let me bring Cody to Wyoming for Christmas and then backed out of the deal. That’s why I was so mean to you at dinner. I was upset and angry, and I had no one I could talk to because I’ve kept my son’s existence a secret from the person I’m closest to in the whole world.”
“Oh, my God, Vick. Who is this Sullivan guy? What right does he have to tell you what you can and can’t do with your child?”
“Ryan Sullivan is a rancher in Montana. He has sole custody of our son. I only have visitation rights. Which is why I’ve been spending so much time away from Kingdom Come.”
“Your cabin in the woods?”
“It borders Sullivan’s ranch.”
“Does Leah know any of this?”
“No one knows. Except you, now.”
“Why on earth would you keep this a secret from all of us? From me?” Taylor’s stomach churned. It was difficult—painful—to accept the fact that Vick had been leading a secret life in Montana.
Vick stopped and braced both palms against the mantel as she stared into the flames. “Getting pregnant was an accident. A one-night stand. I planned to have the child adopted by a loving family, but Sullivan refused to sign the papers to give up his parental rights. He said if I didn’t want the baby, he’d take him. But he promised me that, once I handed over the child, that would be the last time I laid eyes on him.”
“What did you say to that?”
Vick looked back at her with desolate eyes. “I agreed.”
Taylor gasped. “Oh, Vick. How could you?”
Vick crossed her arms protectively over her chest and continued, “I was able to hide the later stages of my pregnancy from all of you by staying in Montana, supposedly to work. When Cody was born, Sullivan took him home from the hospital. He sued for sole custody of our son and won. My lawyer insisted that I have visitation rights, even though I told him I didn’t want them.”
Taylor was appalled. She’d thought she knew her sister. Vick was her other half. She couldn’t imagine giving up her own flesh and blood. How had Vick done it? Why had she done it?
&n
bsp; “Why, Vick? Help me understand this. What were you thinking?”
Vick turned to face her, and Taylor saw pure misery in her sister’s blue eyes. “I was twenty-two years old. I didn’t know Ryan Sullivan from Adam. He was just a good-looking cowboy I met in a bar. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I had grand plans for my life, plans to save endangered wildlife, plans that didn’t include being tied down with a baby. You know what our lives have been like growing up—no mother and an absent father. I knew my child—my son—would be better off with two parents who wanted him—who would love and cherish him.”
Tears welled in Vick’s eyes and spilled over.
Taylor started toward her sister, but Vick held up a hand to stop her.
“Giving up Cody was the most impulsive, reckless, foolish, just-plain-dumb thing I’ve ever done. I will regret it to my dying day. I’m thankful for the lawyer who somehow knew I would have second thoughts and made it possible for me, when I came to my senses, to spend time with my son.”
“At your cabin in the woods?”
Vick nodded. “The worst part is I’ve gotten to know Ryan Sullivan over the years. I like him.” She shot Taylor a rueful look. “I love him.”
“Oh, Vick, no.” Taylor’s heart went out to her sister. She knew how awful it felt to love, and not feel loved in return.
“Sullivan doesn’t think much of tree-huggers. And he really doesn’t like me—mostly for giving up my child. But also for trying to save the wolves and bears that kill his cattle. He was furious when I first exercised my visitation rights. He hates the fact that I have the legal right to see ‘his’ son. Sullivan has kept his promise, or as much of it as he legally can, by making sure I don’t spend one more second with Cody than the court documents allow.”
“But you said he was going to let you bring Cody here for Christmas. What happened to make him change his mind?”
“He asked me if I’d told my family about Cody, so he’d be welcome when he arrived. When I admitted I hadn’t, he said I was still a spoiled-rotten brat who only thought of herself, and that he wasn’t about to throw Cody into the sort of maelstrom that might occur when all of you found out he existed.”
Taylor realized she agreed with Sullivan, at least about the storm of words that might have occurred when Cody showed up unannounced, so she kept her mouth shut.
Vick sighed. “Of course, Sullivan was right. I wanted to take the easy way out, just show up with Cody and let the chips fall where they may.” She swiped at another tear and smeared mascara on her cheek.
Taylor grabbed a Kleenex—she had boxes all over the house lately—and offered it to her sister. “Why are you telling me all this now?”
“Because I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. I don’t want you to have any second thoughts about keeping your child and loving it and holding it as close as you can. And I want you to protect yourself legally, in case Brian decides to make a claim on the baby later.”
“Brian would never—”
“There’s no telling what a man might do when his child is at stake,” Vick said in a deadly serious voice. “Brian’s a Flynn. Angus might try to use custody of your child as a weapon against King. Have you thought of that?”
The legal consequences of having Brian’s baby out of wedlock had never crossed Taylor’s mind. “Surely Brian wouldn’t—”
Vick interrupted her again. “Please, just protect yourself.” She swiped at her eyes with the Kleenex, and then blew her nose. “And forgive me.”
Taylor didn’t offer forgiveness in words, she simply crossed the room and folded her sister in her arms. “I’m sorry you have to spend Christmas away from your son. But I’m so glad you came here to spend it with me.” She rocked her twin in her arms, and felt Vick’s arms tighten around her waist.
“We’re a couple of sorry sights,” Vick said, standing back and offering a wobbly grin.
“I don’t see how Sullivan can resist you. You’re beautiful and—”
“Not as beautiful as you. Or Eve. And Leah is so kind and good; everyone loves her.” She shook her head. “Ryan Sullivan isn’t the least bit interested in me.”
Taylor couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Here was Vick saying she wasn’t the kind of woman a man would choose to love. “Ryan Sullivan would be lucky to have you,” she said fiercely.
“I suppose I can always hope.”
But she didn’t look very hopeful.
“With any luck,” Vick continued, “Brian will come to his senses and realize what he’ll be giving up if he walks away from you and the baby. I’m happy for you. If you ever need anything—a godmother, a babysitter, anything at all—I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, Vick. With any luck, that Montana rancher will figure out what a treasure you are.”
“I’m working on it,” Vick said.
Taylor voiced a question that had been niggling at her. “By the way, how did you know Brian didn’t come here tonight?”
Vick dropped her gaze guiltily. “I don’t suppose there’s anyone who doesn’t know. I mean, I heard from Eve that when Connor and Devon told Brian you were pregnant, he just sat there and watched the Broncos game to the very end.”
Taylor felt a flush of humiliation rising up her throat and heating her cheeks. Talk about being forgettable. How could he! The rat. She would never forgive him. Never. He’d better not show up on her doorstep again. She was liable to do him great bodily injury if he did.
“Eve said she stayed as late as she could,” Vick continued, “hoping to find out what Brian intended to do. After the game, he said good night to everybody and went upstairs to his room. He didn’t come down again before they left.”
“Thank you for coming, Vick,” Taylor said through clenched teeth. She rose and took Vick by the elbow to get her started toward the door. She needed to get her sister out of here. In a moment, she was going to explode and start throwing things. She didn’t need Vick telling Leah and Eve that she’d completely lost it.
“We didn’t have our coffee.”
“You know the coffee was just an excuse to get your foot through the door. I appreciate your coming, but I really do need to get my rest.”
Vick impulsively hugged her again, and Taylor made herself hug her sister back, even though she was agitated beyond belief. She felt violent. She wanted to hit something. Kick something. Pummel something. And Brian wasn’t around.
“I love you,” Vick said as Taylor shoved her out the door.
Taylor smiled, but it felt like her face was in rictus. “Love you, too. Good night.”
“Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She closed the door as quietly as she could and turned the deadbolt. “I can’t afford to lose my temper,” she said aloud. “I don’t want to tear up my home, because I’ll only have to clean it up again all by myself tomorrow.”
In the end, she wasn’t able to keep herself from throwing something. It ended up being one of the empty coffee cups on the bar. It landed against the stone fireplace with a satisfying cccrraaaack! and shattered into a million pieces.
“So there, Brian Flynn. That’s what I’d do to you, if I could. You’re dead to me. I will never speak to you again. Not if I live to be a hundred and two.”
Her face felt even hotter than the tears streaming down her cheeks, and she was quivering with rage. She balled her hands into tight fists and squeezed them as hard as she could. She took a deep breath and let it out.
It didn’t help. She was so…angry. How could he just sit there? Like she was nothing. Like their child was nothing.
She threw her head back and screamed, an ululating wail of grief that came from deep inside her. When the sound died, it felt as though she’d died along with it. She sank to the floor and curled into a ball and watched the unforgiving fire bur
ning everything to ashes.
“HOW WAS SHE?” Leah asked as Vick kicked off her snow boots in the mudroom and hung her coat on an antler rack by the kitchen door.
“About how you’d expect,” Vick replied. “A hot mess.”
Leah chewed a hangnail as she contemplated whether she should call Taylor. “This is all my fault.”
“Brian’s the one who left her high and dry. How is it your fault?”
“I’m the one who talked King into having the Flynns come to Christmas dinner.”
“I’m the one who made the snarky remark about Brian that caused Taylor to spill the beans. If we’re placing blame, that makes this all my fault.”
Leah crossed to Vick and hugged her, rocking back and forth to comfort both herself and her sister. “I suppose we should put the shoe on the foot it really fits. King should have settled this grudge with Angus a long time ago.”
Vick freed herself and asked, “How could he, if Angus wasn’t willing to let it go? I’m just grateful we Brats aren’t still fighting with ‘those awful Flynn boys.’ It’s a relief not to have to worry about getting marooned in the middle of nowhere with four flat tires or finding my Dodge Ram swathed in a thousand layers of plastic wrap.”
Leah laughed and shook her head, recalling the “good old days” when the war between their fathers had resulted in skirmishes between their teenage kids. It was nothing short of amazing that every one of the Brats, except Vick, had ended up falling in love with a Flynn.
Including herself.
Unfortunately, the course of true love hadn’t exactly run smoothly for any of them. It was downright rocky right now for Taylor, and Leah’s own path had taken some surprising twists and turns.
Vick had been the only one to escape unscathed. But she’d been gone from the ranch a great deal over the past five years, working to maintain habitats for grizzlies and gray wolves.
Vick yawned and said, “I’m going to bed.” She smirked and added, “Holidays with family are soooo exhausting.”
Surrender: A Bitter Creek Novel Page 26