Shameless

by Joan Johnston

  He kept remembering Leah’s final warning. If you bring her home, she’s just going to run again. Next time she may not end up somewhere as safe as where she is now.

  He’d expected Pippa to be gone a week. Or two. He’d never imagined she’d be gone for a month. Or that when he finally saw her again it was going to be in such a public setting.

  She was coming to the barbecue being held at Kingdom Come to raise money for Safe Haven, Connor’s retreat for veterans. Everyone and his brother from Jackson was going to be there, along with King, Matt’s sisters, and every single damn one of the Flynns, from Angus on down to Devon, who was bringing Pippa with him.

  Matt stared at his hands, which were shaking. He was a wreck. He hadn’t forgotten that nearly the last thing he’d discussed with Pippa was the fact that her mother was alive. Or that she’d been far more angry and resentful than he’d expected about the fact that he’d kept the truth from her.

  He’d told her Jennie’s full name and enough information about where her mother was living that Pippa could have gotten in touch with her. He wondered if his daughter had found the courage to do what he had not: call Jennifer Hart and tell her she had a living daughter.

  He didn’t think so, because he couldn’t imagine Jennie wouldn’t have confronted him if a “dead” daughter had shown up on her doorstep, to demand an explanation for what he’d done. He’d put off seeking out Jennie himself because he’d hoped that any day Pippa would be coming home.

  Telling Jennie he’d taken their daughter and run twenty years ago was bad enough. He hated like hell having to add, Our daughter is alive, but at the moment, she isn’t speaking to me. She’s chosen to live with a distant relation, a virtual stranger she met a month ago, rather than with her own father. And oh, by the way, I did such a good job raising her on my own that she’s pregnant with a married man’s child.

  So he’d put off the trip to see Jennie, something he’d pictured many times on dark, sleepless nights and experienced in his dreams before waking up in bed alone. He wanted a fighting chance to get back together with his long-lost love, and he was damn sure their daughter’s current circumstances would do nothing to endear him to her.

  He was looking forward to seeing Pippa at the barbecue. He hoped to separate her at some point from Devon and have a heart-to-heart talk. He’d promised himself he would listen to her and let her make her own decisions about the baby. He’d done a lot of thinking while she’d been gone and realized he’d been remembering only the hardships of being a single parent, not the joys. Being Pippa’s father had been an adventure he wouldn’t have wanted to miss.

  Matt could vividly remember the day three-year-old Pippa had disappeared and he’d been in a panic to find her. And how he’d finally discovered her quietly sitting at the feet of one of the most explosive brumbies in his corral, feeding it bits of straw, which the enormous beast was gently eating from her hand.

  He’d been afraid that if he tried to come near her, the horse—which was still wild—would trample her. So he’d come only as far as the edge of the corral and called to her in a neutral voice, “Pippa. Come here, baby.”

  She’d looked up, and a glorious smile had curved her lips and crinkled her eyes as she called out, “Daddy!”

  He’d gasped as she leapt up, terrified that the startled brumbie would trample her. But she turned to the horse and spoke softly to it, and the wild animal lowered its head so she could pat its nose. Then she’d come running, laughing with delight all the way, her arms outstretched to him. Once she was clear of the brumbie, he’d climbed over the corral and rushed to sweep her up into his embrace.

  He’d held her close as he scolded her for leaving the house without telling him where she was going. And he’d warned her that the brumbies were dangerous, and she had to stay away from them. He might as well have saved his breath. The brumbies had been like a magnet to his daughter, and whenever he couldn’t find her, he knew where to look first.

  He supposed that experience, when she was only three, should have taught him something. His daughter had a mind of her own. She seemed determined to keep her child, and what he had to focus on now was how he could help her to do it.

  Matt felt a spurt of guilt and wondered if he’d wanted Pippa to give away her child so it wouldn’t be there as a constant reminder of his failure. He was ashamed to admit that the thought had crossed his mind more than once. He’d also been aware that meeting Jennie after all these years would have been easier if Pippa wasn’t a single mother with a baby on her hip.

  He felt like an ogre when he realized how selfish those thoughts were, but he was only human. The point was he had to rise above those feelings. To use Leah’s words, he had to grow from his “mistake.” He just wanted Pippa back home. He missed her and loved her and wanted to be there to help in whatever way she needed him most.

  What if she wants to stay with Devon? What then?

  Matt gritted his teeth so hard a muscle worked in his jaw. Devon should never have agreed to let Pippa stay with him in the first place. What kind of young man was he to invite a single woman to live with him on a few days’ acquaintance—even if they were distantly related? Matt blamed Devon far more than Pippa for his daughter’s absence from home. Devon should have kept his nose out of Matt’s family business.

  Matt smiled grimly. There were ways to take Devon Flynn out of the picture, secrets Matt’s mother had told him before her death, secrets Matt had kept because he saw no reason to give them up. Those revelations would give Devon enough issues of his own to deal with that he’d be happy to send Pippa on her way. He would wait and see what Pippa said today and then decide whether to reveal what he knew.

  Chapter 19

  PIPPA COULDN’T BELIEVE it had been four weeks since she’d left Kingdom Come. She’d missed her father, but she was more than a little anxious about seeing him again. She knew he wasn’t happy about her decision to spend the past month at Devon’s cabin. He was going to be even less happy when he found out she had no intention of returning to her grandfather’s ranch. She loved her father, and it was hard to go against his wishes, but she was determined to hold her ground if he tried to talk her out of staying where she was.

  She was seated at a picnic table with a red-checked tablecloth drinking iced tea and waiting to eat barbecue from an entire steer being roasted on an outdoor spit. A country band on a raised dais played raucous tunes that encouraged skirts to fly and boots to stomp on the dance floor in front of them.

  Despite the calamity that might be right around the corner—or maybe because of it—Pippa was itching to jump up and join the dancers. She was wearing a pretty red dress, and Devon had surprised her this morning with a brand-new pair of American cowboy boots, one of which was keeping time with the music under the table.

  It was a good thing the front lawn at Kingdom Come was so immense, because Pippa estimated that three hundred people had shown up for the First Annual Safe Haven Country Barbecue and Dance. She was counting on the fact that she was sitting at a table in the center of the crowd with Angus and his sons to keep her father from making a scene.

  Almost as soon as she’d arrived, she’d spied her father at a table on the other side of the lawn with her brother. Nathan had come running to her, and they’d shared a big hug. Then she’d pulled him onto her lap and they’d talked, something they’d only done on the phone since she’d been gone. But she’d remained on tenterhooks, because she knew it was just a matter of time before her father sought her out.

  Pippa had encouraged Devon to go dance with one of the women who’d approached him, so he wouldn’t be sitting there when her father confronted her. But he’d refused each of the women with a friendly smile, saying he was keeping Pippa company. “Come dance with me,” he said when another woman had come and gone. “I don’t want to leave you sitting here alone to go dance with someone else, and besides, I can see your toe tapping under the table.”

  Pippa laughed at being caught out. She’d watched
couples dancing on television and had mimicked the steps, but those dances were nothing like what she saw people doing here. She dearly wanted to accept his offer but was forced to admit, “I don’t know how to do those western steps.”

  “They’re playing a waltz,” he countered with a charming smile that made her insides dance, even though she was still sitting down.

  “I’ve never done this with a partner,” she confessed, her face flushing with embarrassment.

  “I’ll teach you.” He took both of her hands in his, drawing her to her feet before leading her to the dance floor.

  She’d seen the waltz performed in movies, and she’d secretly wished to be held in a man’s arms and elegantly twirled around a dance floor. But dancing hadn’t been a part of her life on a cattle station. She leaned close and said, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

  “You won’t,” he replied confidently.

  “You seem very sure I’ll be able to keep up with you.”

  He grinned. “Can you count to three?”

  “Of course!” she said, surprised to find herself breathless before they’d even started.

  “Then you can waltz.” Without saying more, he placed one of her hands on his shoulder, put his hand at her waist, and took her opposite hand in his. “Now, count with me as you step—one two three, one two three.”

  Pippa realized Devon was using both his secure hold on her waist and his firm grip on her hand to guide her in the direction he wanted her to go. Before she knew it, she was following him—or he was leading her—gracefully around the dance floor. The full skirt of her empire-waisted sundress—the one she’d figured would hide her four-months-pregnant belly best—flared as he let go of his hold on her waist and twirled her under his upraised hand. She laughed, exhilarated by the music and the dance, as he caught her up again and took them on another turn around the floor.

  Their eyes locked, and everything fell away except the warmth she felt in Devon’s gaze and the strength she felt in his arms. When the music ended, he pulled her close for a hug. She hugged him back—until she remembered that her father might be watching her. She stepped aside, searching the crowd, and sure enough, spied him frowning in her direction. She wanted to postpone her conversation with him as long as she could, so she turned away and said, “I’m a little hungry. Why don’t we see if that barbecue’s done?”

  She obviously hadn’t fooled Devon. He glanced at her father and said, “Let’s get you situated back at the table. Then I’ll bring us both something to eat.”

  Pippa worried that her father might decide to get to her through Devon, and she didn’t want him blaming Devon for something that was entirely her choice. It made sense to keep Devon by her side. That way she could head off her father if he tried that tactic. “I can wait to eat. Come back to the table with me.”

  When they got back to the table, they discovered someone had already brought prepared plates of food—barbecue, baked beans, coleslaw, and rolls—for everyone. Devon was just seating himself after adjusting her chair, when she realized her father had finally made his move. A moment later, he was standing right behind her.

  “Hello, Pippa.”

  She turned in her chair so she was facing him, gripping the back of it as though she expected him to try to bodily remove her. His brow was furrowed, and she saw dark shadows under his eyes that hadn’t been there before she’d left home. She felt her gut clench with concern for him. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “How are you?”

  She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

  “She’s fine,” Devon said.

  To her dismay, her father’s gaze shifted to Devon. “Pippa doesn’t belong at some remote ranch in the mountains, especially with that wolf you keep as a pet in the house at night. She needs—” He cut himself off and refocused his gaze on Pippa.

  She paled as she realized how close her father had come to inadvertently revealing her secret to everyone within hearing, including her aunt Eve, who’d come running—apparently to act as peacemaker—when her father approached the table. Pippa could guess what he’d started to say but hadn’t.

  She needs…to be taking better care of herself and her baby. She needs…to be closer to a doctor.

  Her cheeks were hot, and she felt sick to her stomach. Without thinking, she put a protective hand over her baby. She was taking good care of both of them, but there was no way to say that to her father in such a public setting. She’d visited a doctor in town the week past, when she’d gone into Jackson for groceries while Devon was busy on the range. She’d learned that both she and the baby were healthy, and she’d started taking prenatal vitamins. If her father had drawn her aside, she would have told him as much.

  She looked up at him, beseeching him for understanding. “Please, Daddy. I’m where I want to be.”

  Her father lowered his voice, but his tone was even harsher. “Come home, Pippa. You need to be with your family.”

  “She is with family,” Devon said in a quiet voice. He laid a possessive hand on Pippa’s shoulder and said to her father, “Sit down and stop making an ass of yourself, Matt. Pippa’s old enough to decide what she wants to do with her life.”

  Pippa barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. No one spoke to her father like that! Except, Devon just had.

  Her father snarled, “Get your hands off her.”

  “Daddy, please don’t do this!” Pippa cried.

  She knew her father well enough to see that he was at the end of his rope. His eyes had narrowed and his fists were clenched. She’d known he was upset with her, but because he hadn’t come after her, she’d assumed he’d reconciled himself to what she’d done. It was clear from his behavior toward Devon that she’d been very, very wrong. He’d bottled up his worry, and now it was about to spill out.

  “Devon had nothing to do with this, Daddy. It was entirely my idea. I needed some time on my own. Devon just gave me a place to stay.”

  “He should have known better. He should have brought you home. He should have minded his own damn business!”

  Devon’s hand fell away as he rose. “Whoa, there, Matt. I only offered her—”

  Her father suddenly took a swing at Devon.

  Pippa cried a warning, but Devon had already dodged sideways, so the blow never struck him. Her father was gathering himself for another try when her grandfather arrived at the table and said, “That’s enough.”

  Her father turned to King, his eyes tortured, his voice as rough as gravel, and said, “Butt out, old man! You’ve done enough damage to my life, don’t you think?”

  There it was again, the suggestion that her grandfather was responsible for her father’s long-ago disappearance. She was still cringing from her father’s attack on her grandfather when Angus said, “Don’t worry, Matt. King won’t be around much longer to bother you. He’s about to go down for the third time.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” King snapped.

  “Even the Titanic can sink,” Angus said with a smug smile. “Which is to say, you’ve invested in one risky venture too many.” His voice turned nasty as he added, “I’ve been waiting twenty years for what’s coming. I hope you suffer as much as my sister did when you drown in the shit that’s coming your way.”

  Pippa’s stomach was threatening to erupt, and she swallowed hard to force the bile back down. Angus was going to destroy King? And King had no way to stop him? She’d heard about the animosity between Angus and King, but she’d never imagined the looks of hatred she saw on the two men’s faces or the venom in their voices. She wanted to be gone from here, to escape to someplace where people didn’t hate each other or hurt each other.

  Devon’s brother Connor suddenly appeared at Eve’s side, put a reassuring arm around his wife’s waist, and said, “What seems to be the problem, Matt?”

  “Nothing that concerns you,” her father retorted, his eyes darting from Connor to King to Angus to Devon and back again like a baited bear.

  “You
’re all disturbing my guests,” Connor said. “Folks are here to enjoy some barbecue and beer, so let’s skip the fracas. You two old bulls—and you two young ones—can settle this another time.”

  Pippa grabbed at Connor’s suggestion as though it were a tangled rope in a raging river. “Please, Daddy,” she begged.

  To her relief, her father’s fists unclenched. “Fine,” he said to Connor through tight jaws. But he turned to Devon and added, “If I find out you’ve touched so much as a hair on my daughter’s head, I’ll—”

  “They’re related, for Christ’s sake!” Connor interrupted.

  Her father looked straight at Devon and said, “No, they’re not.”

  Pippa registered the stark look in Devon’s green eyes as his brother Brian leapt up and said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Figure it out for yourselves,” her father said.

  Pippa had never made much of the blood connection between herself and Devon because they were only second cousins—his father was her father’s uncle. But her father’s comment made no sense, because that link did, in fact, make them related.

  Pippa saw the malicious look King shot Angus—which seemed to confirm that the accusation her father had thrown out was going to create havoc for his rival—before both her father and her grandfather turned and stalked away.

  Pippa realized that every male at the table had immediately jumped to the conclusion that Devon was the one without a connection to her, rather than the other way around. While no one had bothered to ask, Pippa knew for a fact that she was her father’s daughter. That issue had been resolved when she was thirteen and had needed a transfusion. Her father had provided the blood.

  Devon was looking to his father for an explanation, his face completely leached of color.

  Angus’s gaze remained focused on his hands, which were picking at the label on his ice-cold beer.

  “Dad?” Devon said. “What did he mean?”

  “He’s just making trouble, stirring the pot to see what boils over,” Angus said. But he never lifted his gaze from his bottle of beer.