Brynna wanted nothing more than to fold herself against him, into him, take comfort and find security in his touch. She didn’t want to think his words through or argue. She didn’t want to think about anything. She wanted to feel safe. Loved. She needed the human sustenance he offered so readily. If only she could believe this was real and lasting.
He leaned toward her and she was eager to kiss him, press herself against his strong body and find solace in his arms. He kissed her so gently and reverently, her throat burned with reserved tears and passion. Brynna clung to him, released sighs of pleasure and consolation when he kissed her chin, her cheeks, her eyelids and pressed his lips against her neck.
Held tightly against him, she was safe and small and the world didn’t exist. Nothing existed but the two of them and this burning, consuming, blanketing passion they shared. Through the fabric of his shirt, she stroked his back, his chest, impatient to pull the material away and find his skin, as warm and smooth as she remembered. He groaned at her touches, found the buttons of her blouse and pulled it from her shoulders, then unfastened her bra and tossed it aside.
Over her shoulder, he switched off the light and closed the door while she pressed her face into his chest and kissed his skin.
He caressed her breasts, always so sensitive to his gentle stroking and the way he brought her nipples to hard peaks before taking them into his mouth. She urged him to do so now, and he guided her to the bed before carrying out her wishes.
Brynna stretched and writhed and returned the touches, kissing him until neither of them could breathe. Impatiently, she pulled him to her, eager for the pleasure and the closeness, enamored as always with her attentive lover. It was marvelous, this way he made her feel…
“Brynna, is it okay? We don’t have to, I could just—”
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay. Now.”
Dev slid into her, against her, and she wrapped herself around him to ride out the luxurious indulgence of his lovemaking. The experience was as incredible as always. All-consuming. Mindless. Pure earthy heat and sensation.
“You are a sweet, sweet thing.” He murmured praises in that seductive throaty tone that melted her bones.
When he tried to be gentle, she urged him to thrust harder, deeper. When he would have gone slowly, she demanded urgency. When he would have waited, she coaxed his climax, which provoked hers, and together they lay spent and breathing hard on the tangled sheets.
Brynna buried her face against Dev’s chest and inhaled the smell of him, felt his strong arms around her, heard the beating of his heart. Minutes passed and his heart rate slowed. His breathing grew deep and even, indicating he dozed.
She was wide awake. And thinking back over what had just happened. This was exactly what had gotten her to this stage in the first place. Her mind-numbing, completely physical, totally sexual reaction to this man. She’d never been weak to temptations or distractions before she’d met him. She’d never stepped off the well-paved road to her goal until Dev, and now she’d been stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.
She wasn’t comforted, she was confused. She was weak and embarrassed. Angry with herself. And scared. Hadn’t she learned the price of being impulsive? Regret welled up and brought tears with it. She wanted Dev, she just couldn’t handle the uncertainty and the hurt of not coming first in his life. A sob escaped her.
“Brynn,” Dev said sleepily, leaning up on one elbow over her. “It’s okay, baby.”
She shook her head against his shoulder.
He ran his hand through her hair, but she pulled away. “Go now,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Brynn,” Dev said. He reached for her.
She moved back, shaking her head, and pulled the sheets around her body. “No. Leave.”
He cursed and sat up. “I’m damned tired of you telling me to leave.”
She had nothing to say. Words were inadequate for what she was feeling…the regret, the shame…the loss.
He stood and fumbled in the dark for his pants. “What was this about, then?” he asked, frustration plain in his voice.
“It was a mistake.”
Denim rustled. His belt buckle clanked. “No, burning the toast is a mistake. Taking the wrong highway is a mistake. Not this. Not this, Brynna. The mistake here is you not giving us a chance.”
He opened the door, allowing a dim light to silhouette his form.
“The mistake is me leaving.”
And he left.
Dev was mad as hell now. And rightly so. She’d run hot and cold for the last week, and he was fed up with it. Plain fed up. Her words were all meant to drive him away. But her reaction to him, her responses, her eyes said differently. He was tired of her toying with him as though he were a puppet and angry that she didn’t acknowledge that he was hurting, too.
Damn the woman!
With the following morning came an opportunity to fly an outfitter across the Rockies, and he accepted the offer with grim determination. The day away would give him time to think—or not to think—whichever the case would be, and the distance would keep him from making anymore unwelcome attempts to patch things up with Brynna.
After checking with the National Weather Service, he filed a flight plan and told Colby his intentions.
“Work is slow around here, but I’ll need you back soon,” Colby told him. “Ash is planning to go south with the fire camps.”
“I heard the fire wasn’t contained.”
“With a national park like Custer threatened, Modular Airborne Firefighting System has been called. The Kingsleys’ cousin, Jeff Forsythe, should be on his way,” Colby said.
“I won’t leave you short for more than a day or two,” Dev promised. “I just need air therapy right now.”
Colby, used to Dev flying off at a moment’s notice, wished him well.
Dev concerned himself with fuel and preflight instructions for his passenger and left the following morning.
Brynna heard from Jim Brenner, the pediatrician, who heard from his wife Kelly, who heard from Donna Mason, who ran the Getaway Salon and Spa, who heard from Tessa Holmes, Colby’s wife, that Dev had flown somewhere. At least he wouldn’t be a temptation if he wasn’t knocking on her door and sending gifts, she reasoned.
The gifts had stopped abruptly after Friday night, however. Again and again she wondered if she’d overreacted. She felt safe in the house, even though she was alone. Safe from the hurt and neglect and feelings of abandonment that her relationship with Dev brought on.
When she stepped back and rationalized, she could see that she’d treated him unfairly by welcoming his lovemaking and then rejecting all the feelings that came with it. Opening herself up to him frightened her so badly, she hadn’t behaved sensibly. And she prided herself on behaving sensibly.
Could she salvage something—maybe leave them with a friendship—by apologizing? When he came back, maybe she could talk to him. She stopped at MonMart on her way home from the clinic, bought groceries and essentials, carried them into the empty house and put them away.
While a frozen dinner was microwaving, she sorted the mail. An envelope with an unfamiliar Nevada address caught her attention, and she slit it open with a paring knife while she leaned against the kitchen counter.
The letterhead was that of a law firm in Las Vegas. Brynna scanned the letter, addressed to both she and Dev, then went back to read the words more care fully, absorbing their meaning with a horrible sense of dread and disbelief.
She and Dev were being asked to join a class action lawsuit against a fraudulent minister who had swindled millions of dollars from several wedding chapels in Nevada. He had performed many weddings, all void—theirs had been one of them.
Chapter Eleven
The tongue-and-groove wood floor threatened to come up to meet her, so Brynna collapsed onto a chair and closed her eyes until the light-headedness passed.
A few minutes later, when she could see straight, when the room had stopped spinning, she found the
letter on the floor and read it again.
She and Dev weren’t legally married.
Their marriage had been a sham all along.
As if she hadn’t suffered enough pain and humiliation, now this on top of it? And she’d thought things couldn’t get any worse. She couldn’t let this news get out or everyone in Rumor—and soon enough Whitehorn—would know of it. The gossips would have a field day!
Brynna thrust her fingers into her hair and closed her eyes as if not seeing would make this go away.
What was she doing thinking about the gossips? What about how she felt? What about how Dev would feel? Would he see this as an easy way out of a sticky situation? There weren’t even the strings of matrimony tying him to the earth anymore. He could fly off and be completely free.
Without noticing the microwave’s insistent beep, she sat with her head in her hands. Her marriage was so much of a mistake, even God hadn’t approved. And she had been thinking of apologizing for a little indecision! As if! Everything was such a mess now it could never be fixed.
If they’d had a baby, he or she would have been illegitimate. Her mind ran past all the potential problems this dredged up. She and Devlin had filed income taxes jointly. They’d bought this place together. She glanced around.
How would this affect their joint property—specifically this house? Would they have to sell it? Did she want to be part of a lawsuit? Did she want this fiasco to become public? She needed to talk to a lawyer, someone she could trust to advise her and keep this a secret. Finally, Brynna glanced at her watch and sorted through her thoughts for a plan. She would call an attorney first thing in the morning.
With another crisis to deal with, she’d lost what little appetite she’d had. Tossing her dinner into the wastebasket, she went upstairs to shower.
Brynna wasn’t able to set up an appointment with a lawyer immediately and had to wait a day for a legal consultation in Billings. Dev had an attorney who handled all of his legal matters, but she couldn’t go to Dev’s lawyer without his permission, and she wasn’t ready to divulge this latest development until she knew where she stood—until she had a strategy.
She’d taken the evening off from the clinic for dinner at her sister’s, so, after seeing the lawyer she drove back to Rumor and pulled into Frank and Melanie’s driveway. No sooner had she parked her car and gotten out than Dev’s pickup turned in behind her. He got out and studied her from beneath the brim of his Stetson.
His eyes were shaded, so she couldn’t see his expression. “Have we been set up?”
His voice conveyed his displeasure. Brynna’s head spun for a few seconds before she collected her thoughts. “Apparently. Were you invited to dinner?”
He nodded. “I’ll go. You stay and see your family.” Dev started to get back into his truck.
“Wait,” she said quickly.
He stopped and looked at her skeptically. “What?”
She approached the driver’s side of his truck. He stood half-in, half-out, one booted foot on the running board. “You enjoy seeing the boys as much as I do. Stay.”
Adjusting the brim of his hat, he avoided looking at her. “I don’t know. That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Then I’ll leave,” she said, “so you can see them. Just back up and let me out.” She headed for her car.
“You’re here!” Melanie came around the side of the house and greeted them. “The boys have been waiting for you.”
“Melanie, what were you trying to do?” Brynna asked, her voice low, but not caring whether or not Dev overheard.
Her sister pulled an innocent expression and looped her arm through Brynna’s. “Arrange a nice family dinner is all. Come on, Dev, shut your door and join us out back. Frank is waiting for your direction on the steaks.”
Reluctantly, Dev tossed his hat on the seat, shut the truck door, and joined them.
They were greeted in the backyard by John and Chandler, who gave Brynna hugs and pounced on Dev, demanding his attention. He swung them around and they chortled with excitement. Frank placed the steaks on the grill, and Melanie brought frosty glasses of iced tea.
Brynna accepted one and took a sip. She snuck a sidelong glance at her—at Dev. Dev wasn’t her husband, but for now she was the only one besides a few lawyers who knew that fact.
According to the attorney she’d spoken with, their joint property wouldn’t be a problem. The house could be sold and the money divided. The thought of selling their house disturbed her. It was the only thing linking them.
Kurt showed up a few minutes later and joined them on the patio. He gave Brynna a hug. “Mel told me what happened,” he said softly. “Sorry to hear it, Brynn.”
She nodded, silently accepting his condolences.
“You feeling okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You’ll have another baby,” he assured her. Brynna knew people said that as the only way they knew to comfort someone who’d had a miscarriage, but it wasn’t as though another child could replace one you’d lost.
Her future was so precarious, she had no idea whether or not she’d ever have another chance to have a baby. Brynna glanced toward Dev, hoping he hadn’t overheard Kurt’s words.
She wasn’t sure if he had or not, because he was paying rapt attention to a miniature airplane that John had brought out to him for help in getting the wheels back on. “You do this stuff on real planes all the time, don’t ya, Uncle Dev?”
The two were absorbed in the plane, snippets of their conversation drifting to Brynna, and Dev didn’t look her way.
“Can’t believe that fire’s been burning this long,” Frank commented some time later, and nodded toward where soot could be seen in the distance. Every so often the wind carried the scent of smoke this far. “This makes about twelve days, I think.”
“The volunteer fire squad has set up camp to the south,” Dev told them. “Ash McDonough left with them.”
“I heard they’ve started evacuating,” Melanie added.
“The situation does seem to be getting worse instead of better,” Brynna said. Reports coming in were not good.
Frank carried the cooked meat indoors and they ate, Frank’s police scanner squawking in the background as usual.
“You could shut that thing off while we eat,” Melanie said, so sweetly that Brynna knew it was a point of contention between them.
“Don’t want to miss anything,” her husband replied. “They have an emergency situation with the evacuation right now. They’ve sent choppers to a resort area.”
“You can hear all that?” Brynna asked.
“I hear our fire and police communication,” he replied. “Right now they’re calling for medivacs from other counties.”
“Aunt Brynn, Mom made that cloesaw,” Chandler told her. “Do you like it?”
“I happen to love cloesaw,” she replied, mimicking his mispronunciation with a grin. “And your mom’s is the best.”
They had finished eating when Brynna’s pager throbbed at her hip. With a mental groan, she identified the number as the hospital’s and used the kitchen phone to get ahold of them.
“We have a situation,” one of the attendants said when she got through. “Female, thirty-two weeks pregnant. Contractions ten minutes apart.”
“Where is she?” Brynna asked, hoping the patient was already at the hospital, so she could order meds.
“That’s the problem. She and her boyfriend and another couple are camping.”
Brynna had a bad feeling about the information she guessed was coming next. “Where?”
“Big Bear Lake.” The physician named the remote location near Custer National Park. “The access roads on this side are in the blaze. They can drive out the other direction, but it would take a day or two to reach help. Same with getting anyone in to them on the ground.”
Not a good situation for mother or baby. “Good Lord, didn’t her OB advise her to stay near home?”
“All the local
choppers are in use,” the doctor told her, without answering her rhetorical question. “Plane can’t land up there. You can talk to the boyfriend. Advise him.”
“She needs medical treatment immediately,” Brynna said, mildly alarmed.
“We have an alert out for the first available helicopter and more help is on the way,” he said. “That’s all I can tell you. Go to the sheriff’s, they can patch you through.”
Brynna hung up. “I have to go.”
“What’s the problem?” Dev asked, and after she’d explained, said, “I’ll come with you.”
In a matter of minutes they reached the sheriff’s department, which was just down the road from Frank and Melanie’s on Logan Street. Brynna spoke to the anxious young boyfriend and instructed him on how to calm and assist his girlfriend.
Behind her, Dev spoke with the deputies.
“Can’t get anything but a chopper in there,” Tommy Royce, the younger of the two said, “and we’re waiting out another emergency.”
Isaiah Beauford had worked for Rumor’s sheriff department for as long as anyone could remember and knew all the residents, past and present. “Could land a seaplane on the lake, but only body around here has one is Pete Spencer, and he’s off fighting the fire.”
“I can fly it,” Dev said.
The deputies looked hopeful, and Brynna turned to listen.
“You certified?” Tommy asked.
“Single-engine sea rating only takes ten hours of flight training,” Dev replied with a nod.
“Hang on,” Brynna said to the young man on the other end of the phone line. “Dev, can you get me there?”
“If they can get Spencer’s permission to take his plane, I can get you there.”
Tommy lunged for a phone.
“If we can get meds to her, I can slow her labor enough to get her to the hospital,” Brynna said. “Can we fly her back to Whitehorn?”
“Don’t see why not.”
“Tell your girlfriend to hold on,” Brynna told the young man on the phone. “We’re coming to get her.”
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