Lately, she’d had so much on her mind she couldn’t remember who she told what. A sign of what was to come? No. Not yet. Please, God, not yet.
“I wish Robert had thought to call me. I might have put two and two together sooner. But no one is more of a stiff-neck prude than Bobby Z.” His laugh was so Brady-like. “He hates it when I call him that. I can’t wait to give my grandson a hug. I love him already for shaking my big brother out of his complacent little niche.”
Eventually, she’d given in to Brady’s pleas to speak with his “almost” grandpa online. Kat had hovered in the background, listening, hoping, even snickering behind her hand once or twice. The only thing missing? Flynn wasn’t there to share the moment with her.
She’d tried calling him a dozen or more times, but he wasn’t picking up. Nor had he deigned to return any of her messages. It was like he’d fallen off the face of the earth or gone into hiding—something that sounded very un-Flynn-like.
“Well, enough of that bull crap,” she thought as she watched her son dash toward his classroom.
With his doctor’s blessing, she’d dropped Brady at school early so he could have breakfast with his new BFF—Chloe Zabrinski. “We’re just friends, Mom,” he’d stressed when he told Kat who he was meeting for breakfast. “We’re almost cousins, you know.”
“Okay, but remember your promise to Roger. He wants to be the one to tell his family.”
Brady had rolled his eyes. “I know, Mom. Chloe’s going to tell me what people are saying about me. Some kids think I got lost on purpose.”
The thought had crossed Kat’s mind, too, but she’d never tell him that.
Instead of returning home to her laundry and cleaning, she drove to Bailey Jenkins’s Western Bling, the quaint little shotgun-style house just across from the railroad tracks, where she’d spent one of the most wonderful nights of recent memory.
No Flynn. Damn. She hadn’t wanted to bring their personal business to the SAR office, but what choice did she have?
Unfortunately, his truck wasn’t in the parking lot at work, either. She started to back out but a loud honk made her slam on the brakes. Heart jumping from the rush of adrenaline, she looked in her rearview mirror. Janet.
Janet had plenty of room to go around Kat’s car, but instead she pulled abreast and lowered her passenger side window. “Got a minute?”
Kat faked a smile. “Sure.” Maybe Janet could give her a hint about Flynn’s whereabouts.
No such luck. All Janet wanted to hear was whether or not Kat had spoken with Roger Zabrinski. “Yes, thanks to you. And Flynn. Do you know where he is?”
“Not really. Said he had some personal matters to take care of. Have you tried his brother?”
Kat tapped her forehead. Duh. Flynn wouldn’t go anywhere without telling Ryker. Or his best friends, either.
Happily, Janet was generous about sharing everyone’s contact numbers. Before leaving the parking lot, Kat tapped Ryker’s number and waited for the call to go through.
Unfortunately, Ryker and Mia were in Helena. “We drove up yesterday and spent the night in Austen’s apartment. I haven’t talked to Flynn in a couple of days. The last thing he said was he’d be wallowing in irony. Whatever that means.”
Irony?
She glanced at her watch. Time was zipping by.
Zip. The zip line.
She could drive up and look around. If she found Justin, she’d beg him to get a message to Flynn. Screw pride. If they asked why, she’d tell them the truth. “I love Flynn. I wish I could marry him and live happily-ever-after, but there’s a good chance that will never happen for me. Why take him down with me?”
Once she hit the highway, she had to fight to keep the speedometer at fifty-five. Focus. Don’t get ahead of yourself. How often did she caution Brady to stay in the moment and not miss something important?
From the corner of her eye she saw a local realtor’s sign sporting a big red SOLD banner. She remembered the day she and Brady went with him to look at a house. Flynn had said something about a single guy looking to buy a single family home reeking of irony.
A tingle of possibility blossomed in her chest as she pulled over. Since there wasn’t any traffic, she backed up and called the number on the sign.
“Hi. This is Kat Robinson at SAR. My boss, Flynn Bensen, isn’t answering his phone and we have a small emergency. I’d like to send someone to…” A minute later, she had the address of—and directions to—Flynn’s newly purchased home.
Her hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel as she made a right turn on a narrow winding road that followed a small feeder creek. The land was like much of the land around Marietta—relatively flat at first glance, but gently undulating when you took a closer look. Fences segregated cattle in some areas, and plowed fields in other spots.
At the next corner, she turned left and there it was—the driveway leading to a charming, older ranch-style house planted on a slight rise, lovingly nestled in a cluster of mature trees. And backed up to the side door was Flynn’s truck.
She pulled alongside the truck and hopped out of her car. Without giving herself a chance to second-guess her decision, she dashed up the three wide, concrete steps to the front door.
“Hello. Anyone home?”
She didn’t wait for an answer before stepping inside. Oak floors, tall ceilings, recessed lighting and a knock-your-socks-off view were the first impressions that crashed through her mind as she called out, “Flynn? It’s me, Kat. May I come in?”
Flynn stepped out of the kitchen into the great room—a glass in one hand, a dishtowel in the other. In stocking feet and faded jeans with a grungy red and gray plaid flannel shirt and his hair a straight-from-bed mess, he looked like a poster boy for Montana Life magazine. Her heart flip-flopped and her breasts tightened in that I-need-him-to-make-love-with-me-now way she’d come to know.
Wanton. Crazy. They hadn’t spoken in nearly two whole days. He blamed her for breaking his heart.
But none of that mattered. She wanted him in a way she knew would be imprinted on her soul for all time. He was the one in the same way Roger never stopped loving her mother.
“The house has a sold sign on it. Yours, I assume from the packing boxes.”
“Mine.” He held out his hands, gesturing at the openness. “Escrow closed this morning, so I started hauling stuff out of storage. I’m not in a big rush. Bailey said to take my time moving, but you know how it is. You find something that feels right to you and you just want to make it your own.”
Subtle reminder? Or pointed hint at how much she’d hurt him?
“You’re talking to Brady’s mother, remember? I know all about immediate gratification.”
She closed the door, kicked off her boots near his and walked toward him. “Don’t you check your messages? I left about forty of them.”
He glanced toward his phone resting on the counter. She could picture three or four stools pulled up to it while Flynn or…somebody…worked in the kitchen. “I told the office I needed a couple of personal days.”
“So, you did or didn’t see my emails, texts and voice messages?”
“I did,” he admitted, the look in his eyes giving away nothing. “I don’t want your apologies, Katherine. I married one woman for the wrong reasons, and I don’t plan to do it again.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why’d you marry her? Darla, right? Justin mentioned her name.”
He returned to the kitchen to finish his task. She could see new shelf liner—the expensive kind she liked—on all of the shelves in the open cabinets. He set the dry glass upside down on the bottom shelf and picked up another glass from the sink. “When I met Darla, I told people she taught me to believe in love-at-first-sight. By the time we finally divorced, I wasn’t sure I even believed in love, period.” He looked over his shoulder. “Until I met you.”
“What makes you think we’d do any better for the long-term?”
“Because you don’t care about all t
he trappings. You care about the people in your life—even the ones you barely know, like Molly. That was the moment I realized you might be the one. Even after dealing with your mother for years, you felt only compassion for Molly. You went to help, instead of running in the other direction. That’s a firefighter’s response, Katherine.”
“You really think I’m brave? You’re wrong. I’m scared spitless. I’m terrified that I’m going to wind up just like my mother.”
She held up a hand to keep him from trying to reassure her or whatever he was going to say. “Not for my own sake. Once the patient gets to a certain point in the disease’s progression, they don’t know how big a life they lost. But the people who loved them can’t forget, and that loss never stops hurting.”
He set his towel aside and walked to her. “No furniture, yet, but the carpet in the living room is new.”
They walked through the empty dining room, which shared a spectacular view with the great room, and sat, side-by-side, backs resting against the wall.
“Mom isn’t the first person in my family to die from Alzheimer’s, Flynn. My grandmother passed away from complications of the disease when I was eleven. She lived with us until the last year of her life, when she turned combative and abusive. It was terrifying to watch. Mom was devastated to have to put Grandma in a facility, but she had no choice. And I knew exactly how that felt when I had to make the same decision.”
He put an arm across her shoulders and pulled her tight to his side. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. Two in a row sounds like pretty bad odds, doesn’t it?”
His frown was so filled with compassion. She knew his heart was breaking for her. “Do they know for a fact the disease is genetic?”
“Not exactly. But the tendency seems to run in certain families. The way I understand it, we all inherit some form of the APOE gene from each parent. People who get that gene with a slight variation—the APOE-e4—run a higher risk of developing the disease at a younger age.”
“Have you had genetic testing?”
She shook her head. “I think in the back of my mind I thought if I could find my birth father, and nobody in his family ever had it…dumb, huh? Pure denial.”
“Human.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Have you decided Roger’s your dad?”
“I think so. He’s bringing a DNA kit with him. He wants me to do the swab in his cheek. Something in the symbolism makes sense to him.”
They didn’t speak for a few moments, which gave Kat time to work up the courage to ask, “If I get tested for the high risk gene and my report comes back as a low threat, do you think you might be interested in dating?”
He pulled back enough to look at her. “Dating?” His expression went tender—the way she’d seen him explain something to Brady. “Well, the thing is, when I said I love you, Katherine, I meant I love you. I’m no expert on love, but I know what love isn’t. I know this sounds harsh, and impulsive, but where you’re concerned, it’s all or nothing for me.”
“All? As in marriage? Kids?”
He leaned down and kissed her. “You have a lot on your plate at the moment, including a new father and a very large family. And I’ve got a house. So, how ’bout we slow things down and see what happens?”
She looked at her watch. She knew one thing she wanted to happen. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Slow is for sissies.”
*
One kiss and he was putty in her hands. Soft, moldable, stupid putty—except for the part of him that was rock hard and wouldn’t take no for an answer. But, sex—as great as it was between them—wasn’t enough.
Was it?
Her tongue explored his mouth and traced the underside of his chin as if to memorize every inch of him. She unbuttoned his shirt and dug her hands under the loose flannel to squeeze him tight. Her smell danced across his olfactory senses, reminding him of flowers and forest.
He was totally ready to cave in—say to hell with his pride—when her phone rang.
She groaned. “Damn. I have to answer. It may be the school.”
She pulled the phone out of her purse, which she’d leaned against the wall and listened, her expression going from indulgent to straight up concern. “Hello? Oh, hi, Georgette. How—?” She froze. “What? You’re kidding. When?”
Flynn braced for bad news.
“Oh, my God. That’s terrible. Is everybody okay?” She looked at Flynn, her eyes signaling for him not to worry as she listened a bit longer. “Yes, of course. I will. Thanks for calling the insurance company. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
His hands fell to his side as he watched the woman he loved get her game face on. “Well, I didn’t see that coming.” She shook her head. “That was my property manager in San Antonio. The family that rents my house was barbecuing last night and apparently they put live ashes in a plastic bucket and set it on the deck.”
Flynn groaned. “Oh, good God.”
“The fire spread and they were lucky to get out alive. My house is probably a complete loss. The insurance adjusters are there, now.” She shook her head. “This is the second fire in under five years. What are the chances?”
“Different circumstances. Accidents—and human stupidity—happen.”
“I have to go. Georgette said the storage unit where I put the stuff I didn’t want to move was untouched, but she’s worried that it might get vandalized without anyone living in the house.”
Flynn moved to his knees. “How can I help? Do you need me to pick up Roger? Or call Bailey to let people know you’re not going to be here tomorrow?”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know. I can’t think. I guess the first thing I need to do is check on flights to San Antonio. Do you have Wi-Fi?”
“Not yet. Sorry.” He stood and reached for her hand. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
“I have to pick up Brady after school.”
He grabbed his phone and typed in a quick text. “Got that covered. Come on. I’m driving. You’ve had a shock. Your mind is not going to be on road conditions.”
She didn’t argue as they slipped on their shoes.
He turned off the lights and locked the door then remotely started his truck as he led her to the passenger side door.
Once he was behind the wheel, he told her, “You know, Katherine, I did some research when you first told me about your mother. Plus, I was curious about what was going to happen to Molly. I’m no scientist, but I took biology in college.”
She watched him backup and swing the truck around. “If I remember correctly, even if you inherit two copies of the risk gene, you have a higher possibility of developing the disease but it’s not a certainty. Right?”
She sighed. “No doctor has ever told me I’m going to develop Alzheimer’s. Only that my risk is greater than someone who doesn’t have a history of it in their family.”
He shrugged. “Probability isn’t the same as a death sentence. Nobody really knows the underlying cause, right? They haven’t ruled out environmental factors. Sweetheart, there are as many questions as there are possibilities.”
“I want to believe that, Flynn. Most days I’m more optimist than pessimist, but my stepfather died because my mother refused to admit she was ill. I would rather live in a box than risk the life of someone I love.”
He reached across the center console to squeeze her hand. “I’d never let that happen. I’m not your stepfather. I get that you have lived with this disease for so long you’re convinced it’s your albatross. But, I am blind to that possibility. I believe just as strongly that you’re healthy, vital and you will not lose your memory when you’re a young woman. But, there’s only one way to find out.”
“How?”
“By growing old together.”
Her chuckle was soft, and maybe a bit ironic.
He decided to go for broke. “And I’m just going to throw this out here, but your mot
her and grandmother both had one child, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Well, maybe if they’d had more—like two or three….”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her fighting the smirk forming on her lips. “You want to have kids? Plural?”
“I do. Soon. So Brady can be a big brother to them.”
“But—”
He held up his hand to stop her. “I’m just giving you something to think about, Katherine. I love you. I want to marry you…someday. Be a father to Brady and as many children as you wish to give me. And I will cherish you until my brain goes, which could happen. And if it did, you’d care for me and love me to my last breath, right?”
She gave a soft sob and brushed away a tear. “Of course.”
“Me, too.”
Neither spoke for a minute.
Flynn had one more thing to say before he dropped the subject. “I don’t expect you to give me your answer right now. I just want you to know how I feel, and, hopefully, you’ll take that into consideration in case you get back to Texas and feel a strong desire to stay.”
She leaned her head against the seat, eyes closed. “I loved that house at one time. When we moved, I told myself it was Brady’s ace in the hole in case I got sick. Hopefully, by the time he needed it, the value would have gone up and he’d be able to sell it and use the money for my care.” She let out a small sob. “Now, it’s gone. Just like everything else.”
It killed him to hear her in pain. The sooner she could get to Texas and assess the damage, the sooner she’d be able to chart a new course and get her life back on track—in Montana.
They’d just reached the outskirts of Marietta.
“Where are we going?”
“To call in reinforcements. Did you know all of the Zabrinskis fly?”
Chapter Nineteen
‡
Kat closed her eyes, weary beyond words. So much emotion, change, pain and possibility had been squeezed into three, long and very challenging days. And, yet, she knew the entire ordeal would have been so much more difficult if she’d been alone.
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