by Cora Seton
“He doesn’t want the baby,” Savannah said, facing her friend. “I guess I knew that, but I’d hoped—”
Riley embraced her, her body shuddering with sobs. “I lost my baby today. Jericho found me crying and tried to help, but I yelled at him. I’m so sorry,” she said again.
“Riley—” Savannah didn’t know what to say. She noticed the cameramen still filming. “Get out,” she told the crew. Craig began to protest but Byron pulled him out into the hall. She shut the bedroom door, locked it and led Riley to sit on the bed. “I’m sorry, too,” she said, and drew her friend back into a hug. “Oh, God—I’m so sorry.”
For a moment they cried together, until Riley drew a deep shuddering breath and pulled back.
“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” she said.
“I’d do anything for us to be able to do this together,” Savannah told her. Her heart was breaking for Riley’s loss, despite her own pain.
“We are going to do this together,” Riley said fiercely. “Whether or not I get pregnant, I’m going to be there for you, because you’re my best friend in the world. What I said to Jericho—how angry I was at him for having a living baby when I didn’t—isn’t really how I feel. You know that, right?”
“Of course I do. But I understand if you’re upset. What are you going to do now?”
“Go back to the doctor. Tell her what happened. See what she says.” Riley grew teary again. “Do you think the universe is trying to tell me something? That I shouldn’t be a mother?”
“Of course not.” Savannah took her in her arms again. “Our bodies aren’t weapons that take aim at us. They’re just bodies. Sometimes they work right, sometimes they don’t.”
She felt Riley relax a little. “I hate my body right now.”
“How far along were you?”
“Not very far at all,” Riley admitted. “I took the test as early as I possibly could. If I wasn’t thinking so much about being pregnant, I might not even have known. But I did know. I felt pregnant.”
Savannah nodded. Riley was a sensitive person. And she’d wanted a child for a long time.
“What about you? What are you going to do?” Riley asked her.
“I’m going to have this baby and raise it right here surrounded by all my friends. I’m going to see what I can do with my music here in Chance Creek and around Montana. I’ve got lots of ideas.” She tried to sound braver than she felt.
“What about Jericho?”
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think there’s a whole lot more I can do now,” she confessed. “I think Jericho has to make up his mind about how much he’ll want to participate in our lives.”
“He has to marry,” Riley pointed out.
“You know what?” Savannah said, suddenly exhausted. “That’s his problem.”
Jericho was pacing the banks of Pittance Creek when footsteps behind him had him whirling around. He was prepared to face Boone, or maybe Clay or even Walker, who had a bad habit of popping up when a man needed to be alone with his thoughts.
Instead, his father approached him. Jericho stopped and waited for him to catch up. “What’re you doing here?” he asked when his dad got close.
“Looking for you. One of your friends told me I might find you here.”
“What do you want?” Jericho was in no mood to fake a hospitable mood. All these years his father had believed the worst of him. All these years he’d thought of himself that way, despite knowing damn well Donovan’s accident had been just that.
“I wanted to let you know—well, I guess if you think I’m a failure as a father, you’re right. Seems like I’ve done everything wrong.”
“Dad—”
“No, let me get this out. I’ve tried to shut down everything that caused me pain. I’ve pretended it wasn’t there. Hid from it. Hoped that if I didn’t mention it, it would actually go away. When my brother refused to change his ways, I didn’t know what to do. I thought if I kept my distance, he’d smarten up. Or that Patty would straighten him out.” He sighed. “It didn’t work. Days went by. Then months. Years. We’d started down a path I didn’t think we could go back from. I shut down. You’re right; I didn’t save Donovan. I didn’t save you, either. I let everyone down.”
“You know what I think?” Jericho said, disarmed by his father’s admission. “I think we don’t have half as much say in our lives as we think we do. I think most of the time we’re only one thread in a story. We can only play our part. And no matter how hard we try to control the ending, the story’s going to go the way it goes.”
“I think you’re right.” His father jammed his hands in his pockets. “I hope you’re not pacing because of me. I’m not worth it.”
“We’re all worth it, Dad, but it’s not about you this time. It’s about me. I made a mistake. A big one.”
“That sounds heavy.” His father waited. Jericho hadn’t meant to tell his father about the baby, but somehow the words spilled out and he found himself telling his dad about his encounter with Savannah—and the results. “I never meant to be a father. Never,” he finished up. “I can’t do it. But I don’t know what to do now.”
For a long moment, his father didn’t speak. When he did, his shoulders sagged. “You don’t want to repeat my mistakes. I understand that.”
“It’s not that, Dad. Bad things happen when I’m in charge of kids,” Jericho burst out, putting into words for the first time something that had haunted him for years. “I mean—look what happened to Donovan. And I know, I know, it really was an accident, but what you’ve always said was true, too. Why didn’t I see it coming? Why didn’t I stop it? I was in charge.” He swallowed. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. There’s Yemen, too. I let more kids die there.”
His father stilled. “You never said anything about that.”
“You already thought I was a fuck-up.” His voice hit a rough spot and Jericho had to clear his throat. “Didn’t want to prove you right.”
He felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”
“We were trying to save a bunch of aid workers,” he began. Once he’d started, the story spilled out more easily than he’d thought possible. Their repeated attempts to launch a rescue. The days that had slipped by in which they made no progress. The long conversations they’d taken turns having with the aid workers to keep up morale. Akram demanding to talk to him.
“Boone was talking on the phone when the bomb dropped. But just a few hours before, I’d spoken to Akram. I’d promised him—” Jericho’s voice cut out again. “I was supposed to save him. And I couldn’t. No matter what I did, I couldn’t—”
The grief he’d held in all this time welled up and he fought it until his father turned him around and clapped him into the only embrace he could remember receiving from the man since he was a child.
“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.” His father’s words became a mantra as Jericho finally let out the sorrow he’d kept in his heart for so long. There was no one in the world he thought he could expose such weakness to. But when he realized his father’s shoulders were heaving, too, he knew it was worth it. His father needed to heal as badly as he did.
“I let that boy lie there—unconscious,” his father said, his voice broken with remorse. “I let Donovan wait—I didn’t know if he’d live or die—because I didn’t know how to say no to my brother. I didn’t want all the good times to be gone. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”
It was Jericho’s turn to support his father as the man’s grief ran its course. He’d never seen his father cry before. Knew they’d never speak of it again when it was over.
“Maybe it’s time we all moved on,” he said some minutes later. He didn’t know how he’d ever come to the creek again without remembering this day. But maybe the rushing water could carry away their pain and bring some form of healing he couldn’t even imagine for their future.
“Maybe,” his father agreed. “That means
you, too,” he said. “If Savannah is carrying your child, it’s not a matter of whether or not you want to be a father. You already are. Don’t walk away from that. Don’t miss the good while trying to hide from the bad. You’ll regret it.”
Jericho’s gut twisted. His dad was right, of course. “What if I fuck up again?”
His father clapped him on the shoulder again. “Luckily for you, Savannah’s one smart woman. She’ll step in if you go off course, don’t you think?”
Jericho chuckled despite himself. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” Maybe he was thinking about this all wrong. He wouldn’t be alone in raising his child. Savannah would be at his side. So would his friends—the men he trusted the most. And Savannah’s friends, who he was coming to know almost as well.
Just as his father said, it was too late to decide whether or not he was a father. If the die was cast, he wanted to do his best by his child.
And Savannah.
He loved her. Missed her.
Wanted to be with her.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“For what?”
“For helping me figure out what’s right.”
Savannah was sitting at the piano in the parlor when the front door opened. She had a piece of lined paper on the top of the piano and was playing with chords and sequences of notes, popping up to write them down, then sitting back down to play some more. Boone had come a half-hour ago to collect Riley. Left alone, a song had come to Savannah while she’d washed her tears from her face earlier, and she’d come down to try it out. She’d been thinking of what it would be like to build a life without Jericho. How no matter how bad things got, her love for his baby would see her through. She saw her child as a ray of light in a dark, stormy sky. The image transferred into music in her mind and she’d wanted to test the tune before she forgot.
Now that it was all out in the open she’d decided she could bear the pain she’d thought might rip her apart. She loved Jericho, but she’d survive if he couldn’t be with her. For now, all she could do was honor her feelings, and play with this simple tune.
It didn’t matter if the song had any merit. The only person she’d play it for was her baby—which meant she could pour her heart into it. And that felt good.
“That’s pretty. Sorry—didn’t mean to startle you,” Jericho said.
Savannah pressed a hand to her heart. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I need to apologize for how I acted before.”
“You were surprised. I don’t blame you.” She turned around on the bench.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, crossing the room to stand near her. “You must have known.”
She nodded. “I’ve known for two months.”
He smiled and she wondered why. She didn’t have to wait long for an explanation. “Donovan’s wife is three months pregnant.”
“Donovan’s…wife?” She brightened. “So he’s all right?”
“Yeah, he is.” When he moved closer, Savannah slid over on the bench. Jericho sat down beside her and gave her a quick recap of his visit to North Dakota.
“That’s wonderful,” Savannah said. “I’m so glad for all of you.”
“I talked to my dad, too,” he said. “We sorted things out.”
“Really?” Savannah couldn’t believe it. She waited for the bad news. There had to be bad news.
“Savannah, I’ve been an ass.” Jericho took her hands. “I let my head get out of the game. I—”
“You had some awful things happen to you,” she said softly. “You reacted to those things. I understand.”
“I don’t want to let you down like that again. I don’t want to let down our child—ever. I won’t shut down like my folks did. Or try to harden my heart so I won’t feel it if something happens to you or the baby. Because that’s not really living. You have to risk pain to be there for the good stuff.”
Savannah’s heart throbbed with love for this man. Jericho was willing to face his deepest fears for her. “I promise I’ll think about the bigger picture when I make decisions. You’ll have to help me—”
“We’ll help each other. But you have to know I don’t want to make you unhappy. If you want to travel, that’s up to you. If you need to commute to California—”
“I don’t.” Savannah told him all about her trip. Her audition, the concert, the way her mother kept trying to pull the puppet strings, the way Charles had tried to slip back into his old role—and make her slip back into hers. The way she’d realized she needed to connect with her audience, not be revered by them. The way she’d played for the hearts of the crowd at the concert.
Then walked away from it all.
“I found you a new client,” she said. She told him about Simon Brashear. “He’s interested in working with us—remotely.”
“That’s my girl.” Jericho drew her close for a kiss.
Savannah melted against him. She’d missed this so much.
But when a strange feeling fluttered low in her belly, she pulled back.
“What’s wrong?” Jericho followed her, trying to embrace her again.
“The baby—” It fluttered again. Tears pricked Savannah’s eyes. That was her baby. Inside her—
But before she could explain, Jericho leapt to his feet and scooped her up so fast Savannah gasped and clung to him as he ran with her across the room. “We’ll get you to the hospital. It’ll be okay—”
“Jericho!” Savannah shrieked as he whipped her sideways and rushed her through the front door, nearly cracking her head on the frame. “Jericho, stop! I’m fine! The baby’s fine!”
“But you said—” Jericho stopped short, and Savannah nearly slid out of his arms.
“Put me down,” she commanded him gently, but she kept her hands on his shoulders as he set her on her feet. “The baby. I can feel it. Here.” She took one of his hands and pressed it against her belly where she’d felt the little butterfly kiss of sensation deep inside. “It’s moving in me. You won’t be able to feel it yet, but pretty soon you will.” She reached up on tiptoe and kissed Jericho again. “We’re having a baby,” she whispered against his neck.
He pulled her close and she felt the current running through him. Jericho was shaking. Her big, strong SEAL was shaking.
For the first time she truly realized how much he loved her—and the child they’d made together.
He loved them so much he was terrified. Terrified of losing them.
She slid her arms around his neck and held him close. Her warrior. Her man. He’d do anything he could protect them. And she’d do everything she could do to keep him right here, in the moment, not consumed by worry for their futures.
They’d make a home together among their friends. Make a life together.
“I love you,” she told him, and realized it was the first time she’d said the words out loud.
Jericho pulled back and searched her face with his gaze. “I love you, too,” he said finally, his words warming her heart.
Chapter Twelve
‡
“I can’t wait until Donovan gets to meet you,” Jericho said several days later when Savannah came down from the manor to work on the power grid. Kai and Greg had begun to measure out an area they could use for a solar installation. Since the tiny houses were built into the hillside, their roofs weren’t well-situated for solar panels.
Meanwhile, Jericho relished the thought of having a moment alone with Savannah.
Something had changed in her these last few days. When he’d asked about it, Savannah had told him she relished these mornings with him. Now that she’d expanded her definition of success when it came to music, she’d been able to relax and realized she had plenty of hours to divide among her interests. She’d still practice a lot, but she wanted to try composing. She’d committed to a three-month trial of teaching Richard Hall to play the piano, too.
“It’s going to mean a lot to you, having your family back in touch with each other, isn’t it?” she as
ked him.
“Some of it, at least. I don’t know if my aunt and uncle will change anytime soon, but Donovan and Jackie will be part of our lives. I think Kara’s going to get help, now, too. And my parents already seem happier now that they’re not hiding a secret.”
“I know I am. I hate having secrets. All that slipping away to doctor’s appointments and dress alterations. I’m glad that’s over now.”
“I’m glad it is, too. I want to be here for all of it,” Jericho said.
“Do your aunt and uncle know they’re going to be grandparents?” Savannah asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Maybe wanting a relationship with their grandchild will be the impetus they need to change.”
“Do you really think people can change?” He wasn’t only thinking of his aunt and uncle. He had a feeling she realized that.
“I really think they can. If they want to.”
“I want to,” he told her.
“Me, too.”
“Donovan and Jackie want to come visit soon. I was wondering… if maybe it could coincide with a wedding.” He braced himself for her answer.
“Wedding?” Savannah tilted her head to look at him.
“Our wedding,” he said. “Savannah, I have wanted to be with you since the very first moment I saw you. I will never forget the day we pulled up outside the manor and you came dashing out the door, your skirts swirling around you. You looked so beautiful. Like something out of a storybook. So sweet and innocent in that getup and so… not innocent, at the same time.”
She smiled up at him in a way that made him stop talking and start kissing her until he remembered he hadn’t actually popped the question yet.
“I love you. I want to be with you. I want to raise this baby with you—and maybe have more children, too.” He took a deep breath. “I want to work with you—if you want to keep working with me. And whatever you want to do with your music—anything you want—I will support you, no matter what.”
