Sullivan's Promise

by Joan Johnston

  Rye wasn’t a dog in the manger. He wanted his mother to be happy. He just wasn’t sure he could handle having this stranger thrust into their family circle.

  “I don’t like the sonofabitch,” Rye said.

  “Why not?”

  “Probably because I was raised by Paddy Sullivan to believe there’s right and there’s wrong, and what Angus did with my mother—having an affair with her when he was married to another woman—was wrong. His actions caused a lot of pain for my mom. I can’t forgive that.”

  “Is it her pain or yours that’s making you so angry?”

  “My mom has certainly been miserable. What pain are you suggesting I’m suffering?”

  “Finding out you aren’t who you thought you were.”

  “I’m not going to change who I am because of this,” he said.

  “But everything is changed,” Lexie pointed out. “You have four new brothers. And now you know Mike and Amy Beth are not related to you in the way you thought. Have you spoken to them about any of this?”

  “I’m leaving that to Mom.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the two of them may be angry with your mother as well. The news might be easier on her coming from you.”

  Rye conceded she had a point. He dropped into the overstuffed leather chair next to her and said, “Sorry to dump all this on you. I needed somewhere to vent.”

  “Should we tell Cody he has another grandfather?”

  “Not yet. Maybe not ever, depending on how things turn out between my mom and my…Angus,” he finished.

  “Are you going to get in touch with ‘those awful Flynn boys’?”

  Rye snorted. “I’m sure they’re not any more ready to meet me than I am to meet them.” He rubbed a hand across the day’s growth of dark beard on his chin. “Hell. I’m not even sure they know yet that I exist.”

  Lexie laughed suddenly. “It just occurred to me that your relationship with Angus means I’m involved with one of ‘those awful Flynn boys’—biologically speaking—too!”

  “So now we’re involved? The last I heard, you wanted me to keep my distance.”

  Lexie blushed and lowered her eyes. “I just meant…”

  She nervously brushed her hands against her thighs but didn’t finish her sentence.

  “I was raised by Patrick Sullivan,” Rye said. “He was my father. He taught me to be the man I am. There’s nothing ‘Flynn’ about me.”

  She eyed him sideways. “You might not think so, but I see a surprising amount of ‘Flynn’ in you.”

  He frowned and leaned back in his chair. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s an attitude. A certainty that nothing and no one can get in the way of what you want. You might have gotten it from your mother. She possesses that same ‘I will not be denied’ belief in herself. It might be what attracted Angus to her in the first place. I noticed it about you right away. I just didn’t associate it with Angus. Was Patrick Sullivan like that?”

  Rye was perturbed to realize that the man who’d raised him wasn’t anything like that. Paddy had expected disaster at every turn. He planned for it, so he was never defeated by it. But he never believed he would thrive and survive no matter what. He was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for adversity to destroy him.

  Rye had never understood that sort of thinking. He’d always been willing to try something new, to take a chance, firmly believing that everything would turn out all right in the end. Could something like that, a belief in oneself, be inherited? Wasn’t it something he’d learned, most likely from his mother?

  He shook his head in denial. “Belief in myself isn’t something I inherited from Angus Flynn.”

  She arched a questioning brow. “Isn’t it?”

  “What else have you got?” he countered. “How else am I like Angus?”

  “The way you stand.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Explain that.”

  “Straight. Tall. Unbowed.” She made a speculative sound in her throat before she said, “Proud, but not cocky.”

  Rye thought back to Angus’s appearance at the hospital. How he’d seemed so formidable, completely undaunted at the prospect of meeting a son he’d sired but never seen.

  He didn’t want to be that man’s son. He wished his father—Paddy Sullivan—were still alive. He missed him. Missed his honest goodness. From everything he’d learned about Angus Flynn, that was not something Rye would have inherited from him.

  “Angus and I don’t really look alike. If you stood the two of us next to each other, no one would suspect we’re related,” he pointed out to her.

  “I suppose not. There’s a great deal of your mother in you. All of Angus’s sons—except the last, who isn’t related to him by blood—have black hair and blue eyes.”

  “He’s got a son who isn’t related?” Rye asked, astonished.

  “Apparently, his wife found out about your mother. She retaliated by having an affair, and Devon Flynn was the result. Tragically, Angus’s wife died in childbirth. Devon only recently found out that his biological father is a Texas rancher named Shiloh Kidd.”

  “More lying. More deceit,” Rye said bitterly.

  “What purpose would have been served, in either case, by telling you boys the truth? What would have been different in your lives?”

  “We would have known.”

  “So what?” she argued.

  Before he could pursue the subject, he heard his son cry out, “Mommy! Mommy! Help!”

  Then Cody screamed, a sound so chilling it made all the hair on Rye’s body stand on end.

  Lexie was gone in an instant, sprinting toward Cody’s bedroom. Rye was half a step behind her.

  She banged open the door and raced to Cody’s side, dropping onto the edge of his bed and drawing their son into her arms.

  “A bear was going to eat me!” Cody said between heart-wrenching sobs, huddling as close to her as he could get.

  A trembling Rye sat next to Lexie and captured both mother and son in his sheltering arms. Cody had sloughed off his fall into the river, likely because he’d been rescued so quickly and because Rusty had been the hero in the story. But the bear attack on Mike persisted in causing Cody to have nightmares.

  “Shh,” Lexie said. “You’re all right, Cody. It was only a dream.”

  “Mike’s bear came back to the ranch,” Cody said, his eyes wide with terror. “He was eating my head!”

  Rye felt Lexie’s body quiver and realized the image Cody had painted was frightening her as well.

  “That grizzly is long gone,” Rye said.

  “No, he’s not!” Cody cried. “I heard Mommy talking on the phone. He killed a girl who was hiking in the park.”

  Rye exchanged a questioning look with Lexie, who nodded.

  He started to say, “It’s probably not the same grizzly.” But a wounded grizzly, like the one that had attacked Mike, was far more likely to be the culprit.

  “Mommy’s going to hunt for that mean bear tomorrow with some rangers and sheriffs. Don’t go, Mommy,” he pleaded, gripping her more tightly. “That grizzly will eat you, too!”

  Rye’s jaws were tight when he spoke. “I guess a lot happened while I was at the hospital. When were you going to tell me?”

  “I’ll talk to you about this later,” she said, “after I get Cody back to sleep.”

  His son—their son—was still grasping her as though she would disappear if he let her go. It suddenly dawned on him that when Cody had needed solace and safety, he hadn’t called out to Rye. He’d called to his mother, and he was clinging to her now like some grizzly cub afraid to venture out on its own. He should be jealous. Instead, he felt glad, for his son’s sake, that he had a mother he trusted and loved so much.r />
  “You don’t have to worry about that grizzly,” she murmured to Cody. “He can’t hurt me.”

  “Promise?” Cody said.

  “I promise,” Lexie said, as she met Rye’s gaze with troubled eyes. “That grizzly will never hurt anyone again.”

  IT TOOK A long time to calm Cody down, but when Vick finally turned out the light and left Cody’s room, she was startled to find Rye waiting for her in the hall.

  “Want to fill me in?” he said, his jaws tight.

  “Not really. I need to get some sleep. Cody might wake up again, and I have a long day tomorrow.”

  “Hunting grizzly?”

  “Shh. You’ll wake Cody.”

  Rye snagged her arm and hustled her through the closest doorway, which happened to be his bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door and leaned his back against it, preventing any attempt she might make to escape.

  “I didn’t realize Cody was listening to my phone conversation,” she said, “or I never would have discussed the injuries to that poor girl.” She put a hand up to stop him from speaking and added, “Yes, I’m going on a hunt tomorrow in Glacier National Park with a few members of the Wildlife Human Attack Response Team. That grizzly has to be caught. And killed.”

  “I’ll bet you’re sorry about that,” he said in a mocking voice.

  “I am,” she replied. “That bear didn’t ask to be wounded by some poacher. But the sooner that grizzly’s caught and killed, the less panic and talk there will be about the ‘danger of grizzlies in the park,’ and the less chance they’ll end up as targets during the next hunting season.”

  “I’m coming, too.”

  “I was going to ask you to take care of Cody while I’m gone.”

  “My mother can do that.”

  “But she’s—”

  “If she can leave Mike long enough to meet with her lover, she can leave him long enough to watch Cody while we’re both gone,” Rye said.

  “You’re not part of the team.”

  “I’m making myself part of it. That bear attacked my brother on my land. I’m going.”

  “You won’t be allowed to shoot a gun in the park. You can’t go, Rye.”

  “Try and stop me.”

  “This is getting us nowhere,” she said, shoving a few stray hairs from her brow. “I’m tired, Rye.”

  He opened the door and said, “Fine. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  But when she came abreast of him, he palmed the door shut, caught her by the waist, and pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin and folding his arms around her. She didn’t fight him, but she didn’t lean into him, either.

  Vick could feel Rye trembling and wondered whether it was Cody’s nightmare or his confrontation with Angus Flynn that had made him seek comfort from her. Both, she figured. Although, from his next words, it appeared he was only going to acknowledge one of the two.

  “When Cody screamed like that, my heart nearly stopped,” he admitted.

  “I should have been more careful on the phone.”

  “He’ll get over it.”

  She leaned back and searched his features, finding the distress she’d expected to see as a result of his meeting with Angus. “Will he?” Will you?

  Rye shrugged. “Grizzlies and wolves and mountain lions are a part of life in Montana. You accept it, or you move somewhere more civilized.”

  “So you don’t want to kill the grizzly?” she asked.

  Rye’s lips tilted in a rueful smile. “I didn’t say that.”

  Vick leaned her cheek against his chest. Would Rye ever be able to accept the new father who’d suddenly appeared in his life? Or would he move on without him? She knew Rye was hurting, but she had no idea how to ease his pain. Vick didn’t want to feel so much. She wanted space from him. “Is there any way I can convince you to stay home tomorrow, and let me go on my own?”

  “No, Lexie, there isn’t.”

  Her arm slid up around his neck and played with the hair at his nape, sending tremors through his body. “Why do you call me that? My name is Vick.”

  “Lexie is the girl who stole my heart and then vanished like a wisp of smoke. I miss her.”

  Her body tensed before she met his gaze and said, “Lexie was a fantasy. Someone I made up. She’s not me. I’d rather you call me Vick.”

  “And let go of the fantasy?” he said quietly.

  She grasped his hair and used it to angle his head downward. “Yes. Vick is the real me, the flawed woman, who makes mistakes and can’t be painted in black and white. My mixed-up life is a rainbow of pink and purple and yellow and green and a thousand colors in between.”

  “I’ll settle for the woman in my arms. Are you going to kiss me, Vick, or just stand there and think about it for a while?”

  With their mouths a breath apart, Vick didn’t have the strength to turn Rye away. She wanted his kiss. She wanted him. And he apparently wanted her, humanly imperfect though she was.

  Could a kiss be both gentle and carnal? Vick stood on tiptoes to fit their bodies more closely together and leaned into the strength of the man who held her in his arms. She felt Rye’s hand urging her belly against his erection, and knew that if she let this go on even a moment longer, she would be in bed with him. Perhaps, with his willingness to call her “Vick,” he no longer viewed her as the fantasy woman he’d created in his mind. But she wasn’t sure he perceived her as the person she really was, either.

  Better to give him time to sort all that out in his head. Better not to add sex to the equation quite yet. Better to back off and walk away.

  Except, Rye’s kisses were awfully persuasive. His hands found their way to her breasts, and his mouth slid to her throat, creating havoc. She indulged her need to touch and found the hard ridge beneath his jeans. She heard him make a sound in his throat that might have been a plea. Or a prayer.

  She wanted to touch warm flesh. Craved the touch of warm flesh. She settled for shoving Rye’s shirt up out of his jeans and sliding her hands along his muscular chest to male nipples that had become hard buds. He gasped as her fingernails scraped across them.

  His mouth latched on to her nipple through her shirt, and he bit down hard enough to make her gasp with pain and with pleasure. Before she realized what he was doing, he had her belt unbuckled and her jeans unzipped and his fingers were down inside her panties and then inside her.

  A knock on Rye’s door interrupted them. “Hey, Rye,” his sister called quietly through the door. “Are you in there? I don’t want to wake up Cody. Can I come in?”

  Rye’s hand was out of her body—and his mouth left her breast so fast—Vick almost laughed. He was acting like a teenager caught in the act by his parents. Although, she supposed having your sister on the other side of a door when you had your hands all over—and inside—a woman wasn’t much better.

  “I’ll be out in a minute.” He swore when he realized Vick had undone his belt buckle and unbuttoned his Levi’s and had her hand down inside his shorts. He gently eased her encircling fingers free and said, “My sister has rotten timing.”

  Vick thought so, too, but she wasn’t going to agree with him. If not for Amy Beth, she’d be having sex with Rye right about now. She was on the pill but that didn’t mean she was a hundred percent protected. She could vouch for the fact that accidents happened. It was beyond stupid to take the chance of getting pregnant when things were so unsettled between them. But apparently, they both tended to be foolish when they got anywhere near each other.

  Even though they were quiet as they put themselves back together, Vick was sure they weren’t fooling Amy Beth. The proof of that was the smirk on her face when Rye finally opened the door.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his sexual frustration making his voice harsh.

  “I decided I’
m old enough to make up my own mind where I belong.” Before he could protest she added, “I got my professors to give me an extension on my work so I can be here to help.” She eyed Vick’s flushed face and mussed hair and said, “Looks like I got here just in time.”

  “Actually, you did,” Rye said as he ushered her back down the hall toward the living room. “I’m going grizzly hunting tomorrow with Vick. We need someone to stay with Cody. How about it?”

  “I guess I can do that,” Amy Beth said, eyeing the two of them over her shoulder. “Grizzly hunting? With Vick? For the bear that attacked Mike?”

  Rye nodded. “He attacked and killed a woman today in the park.”

  “Oh, no!” Amy Beth turned and said, “Is there any chance that bear will come back here? I mean, should I keep Cody inside?”

  Vick hadn’t considered the possibility that the grizzly would return to the place where it had been shot, but it had found an easy meal with one of Rye’s Angus calves. Why not come back for another helping? And it was obviously out of hibernation now. “Staying close to the house is probably a good idea,” she said at last.

  “Now that I’m back, where is Vick going to sleep?” Amy Beth asked her brother with a sly smile. “We need to keep Mom’s room available since she said she might come home for an evening, and you’ve seen Mike’s room. I wouldn’t put a raccoon in there.”

  Vick flushed.

  Rye said, “She can have my room.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?” Amy Beth asked, eyeing the two of them with a smirk.

  Rye glared at his sister and said, “On the goddamn couch.”

  AFTER A NIGHT spent sleeping on the couch, Vick had expected Rye to be grumpy. He was gruff and blunt and sullen with her at breakfast and spoke not a word on their ride to the west entrance to Glacier National Park. To her surprise, the members of the Wildlife Human Attack Response Team who met them there, Flathead County Deputy Sheriff Pete Harrison and Glacier National Park Ranger Johnny Lightfoot, were happy to have Rye come along.

  Vick watched for signs of resentment or jealousy from Pete when he and Rye greeted each other, but Pete acted as though they’d never been rivals for the same woman—in a competition he’d lost. Their respectful behavior toward each other made her like both men better.