by Fiona Lowe
Maybe you should talk to Floyd, or Will Bartlett might just tempt her away. All he has to do is flash that smile of his and crook his little finger and every nurse in the hospital would put down the bedpans and follow him anywhere.” She gave a dreamy smile. “He really is centerfold material.”
“I haven’t noticed,” he said dryly, irritated that he was feeling jealous of a guy he really liked.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed up at him. “Neither have I.”
“Good.” It came out overly emphatic.
Her eyes danced with teasing. “Well, not too much anyway.” Laughing, she rose up on her toes and kissed him. When she pulled back, her expression sobered. “But seriously, Josh, the town needs good health care providers and we can’t afford to lose Millie to Great Falls. Talk to Floyd about her working full time in the ER.
He stared down at her as an idea germinated in his mind. “Good idea. I think I will.”
—
SHANNON had barely slept. She’d spent half the night scared that Hunter would run away and the other half berating herself for being so stupid. Hadn’t she learned after Malcolm and a string of other guys that she and men never worked? That when she tried to have a relationship, Hunter always suffered? Damn it, yes, she knew that. Knew it so damn well that she’d made a lifestyle choice a long time ago and held fast to it until Beau.
And now with that one stupid kiss, Hunter was hurting worse than she’d ever seen him hurt before.
Her heart beat painfully, as if it had been bloodied and bruised with a baseball bat. It was a mother’s lot to hurt when her kid hurt.
It’s more than that.
She refused to listen to that traitorous voice. It had led her to this miserable place and she’d never trust it again. No matter how good of a guy Beau was, Hunter always came first.
She spun around from the stove at the sound of Rastas’s nails tapping on the floorboards. The next moment Hunter was standing in the kitchen, his backpack on his shoulder, his cap pulled down low and his earbuds in his ears.
“Where are you going?” The question shot out of her lips driven by panic.
His head dropped, his gaze fixed on the high tops of his shoes. “Out.”
She tried to keep her voice calm. “Out where, Hunter?”
He shrugged. “Just out.”
“Have breakfast first.”
“No.”
Try another angle. “If you’re going out, I need to know where you’re going.”
“Why? You don’t care about me.”
It was as if something sucked all the air from her lungs. She moved toward him. “Hunter, I love you to pieces. You know I do.”
His head shot up, his chin jutted and his eyes shone with hurt and betrayal. “If you love me, why were you kissing Beau?”
And there it was. “I’m so sorry you saw that. I really am.” She pulled his rigid body into a hug, wanting to reassure him that she loved him more than life itself. “I regret it so much, but you have to know that you always come first with me.” She kissed his hat. “Don’t worry. It’s over. I won’t be seeing Beau again.”
He wriggled out of her grasp. “Will I?”
“No, of course not.” She pulled her hair back hard behind her ears, welcoming the tug of pain. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I’ll find a camp for the rest of vacation.”
“No!” His body vibrated with fury. “I don’t want to go to camp. I hate you.”
She scooped up the barking Rastas, hoping that Hunter wouldn’t storm out of the house without his puppy, and she sat down before her shaking legs gave way underneath her. “Hunter, I don’t understand what you want. You need to tell me.”
His bottom lip stuck out. “I wanna see Beau.”
The puppy wriggled in her arms, desperate to reach her distraught master.
“No.” She shook her head, thinking how it would just cause more heartache for both of them. “That’s not a good idea.”
His face flamed red. “He’s my friend and you’ve wrecked everything by kissing him.”
He’s my friend. Hunter saw Beau as a friend? A friend of his that she’d appropriated. A desperate sinking feeling filled her. Had she gotten everything the wrong way around? “Do you think that me kissing Beau means he isn’t your friend anymore?”
He scuffed his foot and mumbled, “He said he loved you.”
“Yes.” Her heart rolled over in fresh pain. “Why do you think that means he isn’t your friend?”
He wouldn’t look at her.
“Hunter?”
“If he loves you,” he said, mumbling softly, “then he can’t love me.”
Oh, Hunter. Her heart squeezed so tightly it dripped blood, and she set the puppy down before standing and wrapping her arms around her child. Her half man, half boy. “Love doesn’t work that way, sweetheart. You can love more than one person at a time.”
He looked at her, his face full of confusion. “You don’t love anyone but me.”
Oh, but I do. “I loved my mom and dad, but you don’t remember them.”
He dropped his head into her shoulder, and a moment later she heard the muffled words, “So why doesn’t Dad love me?”
The visceral pain that rocked her was like the stab of a knife straight through her solar plexus.
I think . . . maybe . . . it’s his dad. Beau’s caring voice echoed in her head. She’d been so convinced he was wrong because Hunter had never known Malcolm and had never even talked about him. Yet, his absence in his life, which she took as being an absolute positive, Hunter was interpreting as rejection. And it was in oh so many ways. Ways she couldn’t change even if they’d lived in the same town.
She patted his back. “Your dad loves you in his own way.”
He sniffled against her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
She closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep, steadying breath. “It means he thinks about you and hopes you’re happy but he doesn’t pick up the phone or come visit.”
“Is that why you won’t let me see him?”
The question shocked her. She’d never deliberately stopped Hunter from seeing Malcolm; it was just that Malcolm was so bad at keeping in touch. “I didn’t know you wanted to see him. Do you?”
He lifted his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of bullishness and fear. “I might.”
An internal battle raged deep down inside her. The fact that she should encourage and support Hunter to contact Malcolm if that’s what he really wanted to do versus the knowledge that Malcolm would inevitably let Hunter down and hurt him. Every maternal instinct wanted to protect Hunter at all costs.
You’ve done a . . . great job p-p-p-protecting Hunter, giving him . . . stability, but he . . . needs men in his . . . life.
Except there was no guarantee Malcolm would be remotely reliable at being in his life. But Beau had a point she’d totally missed. She tried to push away the anxiety that was rising up to choke her and offer Hunter what he needed. “We can call Grandma and Pa. Your dad moves a lot, but they should know where he is and we can get a message to him that way. Do you want to do that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
Maybe? His reply surprised her, because she’d felt sure after all this turmoil his answer would be a resounding yes. Perhaps he’d just needed to know it was okay to make contact with Malcolm. “How about you tell me when you’re ready.”
“Could I just call Grandpa?”
Malcolm’s dad was a good man, but since she’d left Missouri, she’d let the contact slip other than at Christmas and birthdays. “Sure. And maybe seeing as we have the spare room, we could even invite him and Grandma to come stay a couple of days.”
“I’d like that.” He fondled Rastas’s ears. “Mom?”
“Yes.”
“If Beau loves you . . .”
Loved me. Would he still want them in his life after what she’d said to him last night?
“. . . does that mean he can love me, too?”
Th
e desperate hope in Hunter’s eyes made her ache to her core. How could she have been so misguided to think that her love alone was enough for him? He needed an entire family of love.
“He already loves you, Hunter.”
Incredulity crossed his face. “He told you that?”
She laced her hands, trying to stop them from trembling. “He did. He told me last night just before you got home, which was why I was kissing him.”
Hunter’s face pinked. “It was gross. You had your legs around his butt.”
She laughed and heard the hysterical edge to it. “After what I said to him last night, I don’t think he’ll want to be kissing me again, so your delicate eyes will be spared.”
Hunter frowned. “Do you love me, Mom?”
She hated that he was so insecure. “Of course I do. I tell you every day. I show you every day by everything I do for you. The notes in your lunch box, letting you have Rastas, even the stuff like getting you to clean up your room. All of it is my love for you, and I need you to believe it.”
He gave her a long, quiet stare. “Then Beau still loves you.”
Just hearing his name made her want to cry, and she fiddled with the edge of a place mat. “How do you figure that?”
“Because I said I hated you but you still love me. What you said to Beau couldn’t be worse than that.”
The logic of an immature fourteen-year-old boy was very tempting to follow.
I won’t leave you. I want to . . . be with you.
Hunter kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t hate you.”
She tousled his hair. “I know you don’t, buddy. I know you said it because you were confused, but next time, can you please try and talk to me about it?”
He grimaced. “Talking’s hard.”
Oh yeah. “Sometimes it is.”
“Can I go see Beau?”
She bit her lip. “I have to talk to him on my own first.”
He stood up and grabbed her keys, holding them out toward her. “Do it now?”
Chapter 19
Shannon left Hunter washing dishes in the diner with a promise she’d call him as soon as she’d spoken with Beau. She’d texted Beau but she hadn’t heard back, and she didn’t know if that was because he was out of range due to the bad reception in the coulees or if he was ignoring her. Either way, with anxiety bubbling in her veins, she’d driven out to find him. It was the longest drive of her life. Now she stood on the ranch house veranda holding a peacemaking pie.
Kirk opened the door a second before she knocked. “Shannon?” A surprised look crossed his tired face. “I didn’t know you were there. I was just leaving for the hospital.”
A different ache pained her. “How’s Bonnie?”
“She’s . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you for all those pies and casseroles you’ve been sending over. Much appreciated.”
She hated that her well-intentioned inquiry was causing him distress. “It’s my pleasure.” Change the subject. Change the subject. “I was wondering if Beau was here?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure where he is. Have you tried his cell? Mind you, if he’s out on the eastern boundary, he won’t have bars.”
She nodded. “I’ll keep trying.”
“Everyone’s either at the hospital or chasing cows, but you can wait here if you don’t mind your own company.”
“Thank you. I’d like to wait.”
Kirk suddenly squinted into the midmorning light. “No need. Here’s your man now. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the hospital.”
“Oh, of course. Absolutely. Please send Bonnie my best wishes.”
He nodded quietly as he jammed his hat on his head and walked to his outfit, pausing to exchange a few words with Beau on the way.
Shannon couldn’t hear them, but she felt the love flow between the two men in the slaps on the back that they gave each other. Would she one day be able to see a similar exchange between Hunter and Beau? See a manbrace or a full-on hug?
God, she hoped so.
Dread dumped all over her at the thought she might not.
She took in a deep breath and gripped the pie box. This was it. This was where she ate humble pie. She saw the moment Kirk must have told Beau she was waiting. Saw the rise of his head and the shock in his eyes, which was immediately replaced with an unfamiliar hardness. Her throat tightened.
He strode toward her and, ever the gentleman, removed his cap. “Sh-Shannon.”
She suddenly realized how much warmth he’d always infused into her name, because today it was absent. “Hi, Beau.”
“Come inside.” He pulled open the door for her, and after she’d entered the house and had stopped just inside, uncertain of where to proceed, he strode straight past her. A few feet away he turned back to face her. “Wh-what do . . . you want?”
“I . . .” Oh. God. She’d rehearsed what she was going to say, but now that she was facing him and his implacable wide stance and uncompromising grim expression, for the first time in his presence instead of gabbling on, words failed her. “I . . . I’m sorry.”
His mouth, already stern, seemed to flatten even more. “For what?”
His words punched her even though she knew he was deliberately choosing short replies to keep his speech under control. All of this was her fault and she had to fix it. For that to happen she had to tell him the truth.
“I’m sorry for panicking last night. For shutting you out. For getting everything so incredibly wrong with Hunter and with you.”
—
BEAU heard her and desperately wanted to believe that what she was saying was true. Her pale face and red eyes backed up her claims, but her distinctly harsh words from last night still rang loud in his ears. He’s my son. I don’t need your help.
He blew out a breath. “You did. You got it . . . all wrong.”
“I know.”
“How . . . how do . . . you know?”
She sighed, exhaustion rising off her. “Hunter and I talked this morning. Not that he wanted to. He really didn’t want to have anything to do with me.” Her contrition-filled eyes found his. “I was right about Hunter being upset that he’d seen us kissing, but I was so wrong, so way off base about why it upset him so much.”
All night he’d replayed the conversations between the three of them in the kitchen, trying to work out how something so wonderful had become something so traumatizing. “Tell me?”
“He thought . . .”—her voice cracked—“. . . someone could only love one person at a time.”
Sadness for Hunter rocked into him. “He was . . . worried you wouldn’t . . . love him?”
She shook her head slowly. “He was upset that if you loved me, you wouldn’t be able to love him.”
The jumble of emotions that broadsided him physically hurt. Pain for Hunter, pain for Shannon. He gripped the edge of the table. “You told him . . . how wrong that was . . . right?”
She nodded. “And then he asked about his dad, and you were right.” She swallowed as the lines around her eyes deepened. “I had no idea he was grieving for something he’s never known but feels like he should have had. And I’ve been so hell-bent on keeping him safe from heartache that I’ve cut him off from all his extended family to the point he believes he can only be loved by one person at a time.”
She sank into a chair, dropping her head into her hands. “I can’t believe I couldn’t see what I was doing. I’m a terrible mother.”
He wanted to haul her up against him and hold her tight but he couldn’t. Not yet. They didn’t have a future together unless she could let him in to be part of her team. “Not terrible. Never that. Misguided, maybe.”
She gave a strangled sort of a laugh. “As I listened to Hunter, I kept hearing your voice telling me that he needed men in his life. The thing is, Beau, I never met any good men until I met you, and by then I was so used to protecting Hunter I had no clue how to let you in to help.”
“And . . .
protecting yourself.”
Lines of strain appeared on her face. “Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
She opened her hands and gave him a sad smile. “Are you always going to be right?”
A smile broke through his hurt. “Sometimes.”
“I love you, Beau.” Her voice trembled. “I love you so much it hurts.”
She loves me. They were almost all of the words he needed to hear, and it was so hard not to reach out and touch her. “Do you . . . trust me?”
“Not to leave me? Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
He watched her face carefully. “Do you trust me with your son?”
She pushed up from the chair and walked toward him until she was standing as close to him as was possible without actually touching him. Her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, looked into his. “I trust you implicitly with our son and with any other children I hope we might have.”
Our son. Children. Joy filled him to overflowing and he could hardly speak. “W-w-we’re a team, Sh-Shannon.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, please. More than anything, I want to be on Team McCade.”
He grinned down at her. “Funny. I thought I . . . was on Team Bauer.”
“The name’s not important.”
And it wasn’t. He pulled her up against him and lowered his head, capturing her lips with his and searing her with his love and commitment. Her love for him flowed back and he deepened the kiss, losing himself in her taste and her touch.
A loud wolf whistle split the air, and he jerked his head back. Shannon buried her face in his shirt.
“Bro, get a room,” Dillon said, respect in his voice and a huge grin on his face.
He dropped his arm onto Shannon’s waist and grinned down at her. “We need to . . . get our own . . . place.”
She laughed. “We do. But first we have to go tell Hunter.”
He immediately sobered, his wondrous joy momentarily attenuated. “And then we go to the hospital and tell Mom.”
—
KATRINA slid her arms into Megan’s and Dillon’s and led them from their mother’s hospital room. “Let’s give Shannon and Beau some time alone with Mom and Dad.”
“It’s so exciting that they’re going to get married,” Megan said. “This is just the sort of news that Mom needs to boost her white blood cell count.”
