Shameless

by Joan Johnston

  He tried taking a deep breath, but only got it halfway in before he huffed it out again. It was ridiculous to feel so nervous. He dropped his cellphone and clenched his fists to stop his hands from trembling. Then he picked up the phone from the floor at his feet and called the number that had been programmed into it for the past year.

  The number he’d dialed was the home phone at Jennie’s grandmother’s ranch near Fredericksburg, Texas, west of Austin. Her grandmother had passed away and left her the ranch, and he could only suppose she’d wanted the privacy to grieve that she could have there.

  A dozen thoughts ran through his head as the phone rang. What if she wasn’t in? Should he leave a message for her to call? Or should he simply hang up? He figured the phone had caller ID, so if he hung up, Jennie would realize, when he called a second time, that he’d called once before and hadn’t left a message. So he would have to leave a message if she didn’t pick up. What should he say? And what if she listened to the message and didn’t call back?

  Matt realized he’d been listening to the phone ring for a very long time without any sort of answering machine picking up. Then he remembered that on a ranch, it might take a while to get to the phone, so he held on for one more ring.

  At that moment, the call was answered and a female voice said, “Fairchild Ranch.”

  Matt’s heart was in his throat, so for a moment he couldn’t speak. He managed to croak, “Jennie?”

  The silence on the other end of the line was so profound that all he heard was the pounding of his own heart.

  “This is Jennifer Hart,” she replied.

  He had to clear his throat before he could say, “It’s Matt.” And then, because it had been twenty years, and because she might not have thought of him as often as he’d thought of her, he added, “Matthew Grayhawk.”

  “Matt.”

  Just his name. Nothing else. What had he heard in her voice? Surprise? Yes. Delight? Joy? Happiness? No. He felt frozen by what else he’d heard in that single word. Caution. Ambivalence. Wariness. Although, he couldn’t imagine why she would think he would ever do anything to hurt her.

  “It’s been a long time,” he said, aware he was walking through a minefield, and that saying the wrong thing could be deadly to his hopes of a reconciliation.

  “How are you, Matt?” Her statement was as ordinary as his, as though they’d seen each other just yesterday. His answer needed to cover twenty years of living and a separation that had wrenched his soul from his body.

  “How are you?” he said at last. “I heard about your husband’s death. I’m sorry for your loss.” He was sorry she’d been hurt. He wasn’t sorry she was free. He wondered if she could make that distinction from the way he’d expressed his condolences.

  “Why are you calling, Matt?”

  Well, she wasn’t going to beat around the bush, was she? She had a lot more courage than he did. He wiped the sweat from his brow, then swiped his hand on his jeans, stalling for time to come up with the right words to tell her everything he was feeling. In the end he blurted, “I need your help.”

  “Oh?” The caution was back in her voice. “Where are you?”

  It was a logical question. He’d been out of touch with everyone he’d known for the past twenty years. “I’m at Kingdom Come.”

  “Did something happen to your father?”

  Another logical question. His father’s death or incapacitation was a good reason for him to have finally returned home. “King’s fine. He offered the ranch to me if I’d come live here, so I came.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I was living on a cattle station in the Northern Territory in Australia.”

  “I always wondered how you disappeared so completely, as though you’d fallen off the face of the earth. I guess that explains it.”

  He felt encouraged that she’d wondered about him. But this meandering conversation wasn’t getting him where he needed to go. He wished they were face-to-face. He didn’t want to tell her this news on the phone. It was his own fault he’d waited so long, and now he had no choice.

  On the other hand, this might be better—especially if she wanted nothing more to do with him after all was said and done. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to bear standing in the same room with her and having her send him away.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” he began. “Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

  “There’s no need to say anything,” she said, cutting him off before he really got started. “We were foolish children who lost something precious. It’s over and done.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was speaking of their love for each other or the child they’d supposedly lost, but it was the best opening he was going to get, so he took it. “Our daughter didn’t die.”

  In the hush that followed, he imagined her brows deeply furrowed, her mouth open wide with disbelief, her hands trembling like leaves in the wind at the literal shock of such a statement. He heard a thump and wondered if her legs had given out. “Are you all right?”

  He heard a gurgling sound, and then her frantic voice asking, “Where is she? How is she? How could this have happened?”

  He wished he were there to take her in his arms and hold her and comfort her as he revealed the tale he had to tell. Maybe then he could keep her from hating him after he exposed the enormity of what he’d done.

  “King told me that you died in childbirth and that our baby died with you. I went crazy thinking I’d killed you, getting you pregnant so young. I mourned for the loss of you and our child.”

  “My parents told me our daughter died,” Jennie said in a voice that trembled. “I missed you terribly. I was…not myself…for a very long time.”

  For several moments, all he heard was the sound of breathing.

  Then she said in a much calmer—but sharper—voice, “If our baby didn’t die, what happened to her?”

  “She went to a foster home.”

  “Was she eventually adopted? Where is she now?”

  Matt’s throat ached. His heart ached. He felt sick to his stomach. “She’s with me. She’s been with me for the past nineteen years.”

  An ominous quiet ensued, followed by the question, “How did that happen?”

  “I didn’t find out the truth—that neither of you were dead—until nearly a year after Pippa was born.”

  “Pippa?”

  “It’s short for Philippa.” It was the name Jennie had wanted for their child, if it was a girl. It was from the Greek, meaning “lover of horses.” Jennie had been horse crazy all her life.

  “At first I couldn’t believe it,” Matt said. “I learned from my uncle Angus that you’d been told the same lie that my father had used to deceive me—that Pippa had died. Once I knew the truth, my uncle secretly helped me to establish paternity.”

  “Why didn’t you say something to me? Why did you let me keep on believing that our child died at birth?”

  He heard the torment in her voice and felt the knot tighten in his stomach. “I wanted to tell you the truth. But I didn’t dare.”

  “Why not?”

  “Angus warned me against it. He said your parents might move Pippa somewhere else, somewhere I couldn’t find her again, before I could prove I was her father.”

  “You should have told me anyway.”

  “I didn’t know where you were!” he protested. “At least, not at first.”

  “But you knew before you ran away with her?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You should have told me.”

  He spoke quickly, wanting her to understand the reasoning behind what he’d done. “I knew your parents didn’t want you raising our daughter, because they’d lied to you about her being stillborn. But they obviously didn’t want me to have her, either, because they dumped her in that foster home. Based on the lie my father had told me, I figured he was conspiring with your parents to keep both of us from raising our child.

 
“I couldn’t take the chance that either of our parents would find out that I had Pippa and try to take her away from me. So I grabbed her and ran as far and as fast as I could.”

  “And left me behind!” she cried in an agonized voice.

  That was the crux of his betrayal. He’d made the choice to escape with his child, rather than with the girl he supposedly loved more than life. And had wondered forever after if he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

  Jennie was crying now, choking sobs that tore his heart out. He waited, feeling sorry and guilty and wishing he’d been smarter about how he’d done this. He should have been there with her. He owed her the chance to strike out at him, to spurn him, to castigate him for what he’d done.

  She choked back her sobs and said, “Why did you wait so long to tell me our daughter is alive? Why are you contacting me now?”

  The two questions had very different answers. It was easier to answer the second one, so that’s what he did. “Pippa’s unmarried and pregnant. And in a dangerous situation.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “She’s living with one of the Flynn boys, Devon, in a remote cabin in the mountains. As far as I know, she hasn’t seen an obstetrician yet, and I’m worried that if something goes wrong, she’s a long way from a hospital.”

  “Do you have any reason to believe something will go wrong?”

  “No, but…”

  “But I had a difficult birth,” she finished for him. “I was fifteen, Matt. She’s…”

  He waited for her to calculate the date and realize that they were only a month away from Pippa’s twentieth birthday.

  “She’s almost twenty,” Jennie said. “That’s a big difference. Where is the father in all this?”

  “He lied to Pippa about being married. He’s out of the picture.”

  “So what is it you want from me?”

  “I want you to talk to her, to convince her to come home.”

  “Does she even know I exist?”

  Matt paused. Here was another decision for which he had to bear the responsibility. “I told her about you a month ago, after we returned to the States.”

  “So she never knew I was alive?”

  Matt shook his head and then realized she couldn’t see him. “No.”

  “She’s known for a whole month that she has a mother, but hasn’t called me or tried to contact me?”

  Matt heard the disappointment in Jennie’s voice. Or maybe it was despair.

  “It seems pretty clear to me that Pippa doesn’t want a mother she never knew existed interfering with her life,” Jennie said.

  “She asked about you as a child all the time. I just…I avoided the questions. I’m not really sure why Pippa didn’t contact you herself. It could have something to do with the fact that she’s unmarried and pregnant. She ran off about the same time I told her about you to go live with someone she hardly knows. She’s always wanted a mother.”

  There was silence for a moment before she asked, “You never married?”

  “I did. Twice. Neither marriage lasted long.” He wanted to say that neither woman had measured up to his memories of her. That he hadn’t blamed them for leaving him, because he knew the fault had been his. “I have a six-year-old son.” He wanted to ask why she’d never had children, whether something had actually gone wrong when Pippa was born, but he didn’t think he had the right. “The second marriage ended when Nathan was still a baby.”

  “I want to meet Pippa,” she admitted.

  “You can come here—”

  “I will speak with Pippa,” she interrupted, “to make sure she’s taking care of herself and that she’s happy where she is. But I don’t want to see you. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for what you did.”

  “Jennie—”

  “I don’t want to hear your excuses! I can understand why a boy of seventeen might steal a child and run. But a grown man could fix what a child could not. You could have found me when we were both adults. You should have given me the chance to be a mother to my child!”

  There was a lot he’d done wrong. Getting Jennie pregnant, to start with. But his heart turned to stone at the thought of never seeing her again. He regretted more than ever his decision to have this conversation on the phone. “When can you come?”

  “Did you tell her you were contacting me?”

  “No.”

  “So she won’t be expecting me?”

  “Do you want me to call her and let her know you’re coming?”

  “I don’t want or need your help. I can make arrangements on my own. Goodbye, Matt.”

  “Jennie—” But she was already gone. Matt stared at the phone, his heart broken. He might have just ruined whatever hope he’d had of reconnecting with his lost love.

  At least Jennie knew the truth now. That hurdle had been crossed. There was no telling what might happen in the future if she established a relationship with their daughter. He refused to give up hope.

  Jennie was coming to Wyoming. Somehow, he would find a way to see her and talk to her and convince her that they belonged together.

  Chapter 22

  THE RIDE HOME with Devon was filled with quiet desperation. Pippa wasn’t sure which of the two of them was more upset by what they’d learned at the barbecue. Her father and her little brother might find themselves out in the cold without a home if Angus made good on his vow to ruin King. And Devon might not be the son of the man he’d known all his life as his father.

  They arrived at Devon’s cabin to a joyous welcome from Wulf, but rather than stop to play with him as he usually did upon his return, Devon headed straight to the barn.

  “I have to check on my animals,” he said brusquely.

  Pippa figured he needed time alone to think, and to absorb the truth about his birth father. She didn’t try to stop him. She simply said, “I’ll feed Wulf.”

  But when night fell and Devon still hadn’t returned to the house, she went looking for him. She hadn’t changed out of her dress, but she’d added a sweater, because the warmth of the day had disappeared along with the sun. She didn’t want to intrude on Devon’s privacy, but she was worried, so she grabbed two cubes of sugar, thinking she could use her work with Sultan as an excuse to show up in the barn.

  She had to wedge her hip against Wulf to keep him from coming out the door after her. “Stay,” she said, squeezing the door shut slowly so she wouldn’t bang his nose. “We’ll both be back soon, I promise.”

  She followed the dark path from the narrow, environmental lights on either side of the porch toward the glow inside the barn, wondering what she would find when she got there. What had Devon been doing to keep himself busy all afternoon?

  When she opened the barn door, she saw that he’d turned on the single bulb in the center of the barn, leaving both ends in shadow. She peered at the area where the wild animals were kept in cages and saw no movement. She started to call out to him, but everything was so still and quiet, she felt foolish for coming here. Devon had obviously left the barn sometime during the afternoon and gone off somewhere to be by himself.

  She might as well offer the stallion the sugar she’d brought. She walked silently down the center aisle toward Sultan’s stall. She had no idea why she’d brought two cubes, when previously she’d never brought more than one. When she reached the stallion’s stall, he was backed into the corner staring at her, his dark eyes liquid in the shadowy light.

  “It’s just me, Sultan. I brought you some sugar.” She set the two cubes on the top edge of the stall, six inches apart. Then she took a single step back and stood with her hands at her sides. Her voice remained calm and quiet as she murmured, “I know you’ve had a tough life, but that’s all over now. I’ve brought you something sweet. Come to me. Come.”

  Maybe it was the fact that she was visiting Sultan at night, when she’d previously come only in daylight, or maybe all her hard work was finally paying off, but to her amazement, Sultan left the corner of his stall and took
the few steps necessary to reach the stall door without rearing or stomping or laying his ears back. He stared at her, snorted once, then delicately lipped the sugar cube on the left into his mouth. A moment later, he retrieved the one on the right.

  Pippa expected him to retreat, but he remained where he was. She slowly reached out her hand toward his nose, murmuring, “I will never hurt you. You’re safe with me.”

  She was ready to pull her hand back if he tried to bite. She saw his withers quiver, as though he expected a blow, but he held his head still as her fingertips brushed his velvet nose. The touch lasted only a second before he jerked his head away and ran in a circle around the stall. But he didn’t return to the corner. He stood in the center of the stall, his head up, his ears forward. He was out of reach, but not as far from her as he could get.

  “You did it.”

  Pippa whirled toward the voice that came out of the dark. “Devon? Is that you?”

  He pushed open the door of the empty stall opposite Sultan’s and stepped out of the shadows.

  “You scared the wits out of me!” she said in a voice made sharp by his sudden, unexpected appearance.

  His hat was gone. His eyes were red-rimmed, as though he’d been crying, and he had straw in his hair, as though he’d been lying down in the stall.

  Her heart went out to him. She took two steps and slid her arms around him. “I’m here,” she said. “Everything will be all right.”

  She felt him shudder and tightened her hold around his waist. A moment later she felt his arms surround her.

  “I must have fallen asleep,” he said, his lips against her ear. “I woke up when I heard you talking. I thought it was…” He shook his head. “I wasn’t sure who was speaking. But they were words I wanted to hear.”

  Pippa tried to recall exactly what she’d said that might have provided Devon solace. Then she knew. I will never hurt you. You’re safe with me.

  She pressed her nose against his throat. She would never hurt him. Not if she could help it. Right now she only wanted to provide comfort for his wounded heart. She kissed his throat beneath his ear, then his cheek, and when he turned his head, her mouth found his.