Chapter Seventeen
It was only a matter of time until she completely fell apart. The last thing either of them needed was for her to have a hysterical fit, and she was just this side of having one. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. More than I can say. I wish... Oh, it doesn’t matter what I wish. It is what it is.”
Wyatt wasn’t moving. He simply stared at her. When he did speak he didn’t address anything she’d expected.
“Who told you that you were infertile?”
“My OB/GYN. Why?”
“Is your OB a fertility expert?”
“No, he isn’t. But I don’t see what you’re getting at.” At least she didn’t feel like shattering into a million pieces anymore. Maybe only a thousand.
“You shouldn’t accept one doctor’s opinion as gospel. Especially on something this important, and especially since your doctor isn’t an expert. Did he say why he thinks you can’t have kids?”
“He said something about my uterus. Wrong shape or tilted or something. I really didn’t hear anything after he said I couldn’t get pregnant again.”
“That’s bullshit, Mia.”
“Excuse me,” she snapped, “I would have taken notes but I was too devastated by being told I’d never have children to think of it.”
“I didn’t mean your reaction. I meant you need a second opinion. From a fertility expert. I’m surprised your doctor didn’t suggest it. My patients get a second opinion sometimes. Everyone’s patients do.”
“Why the hell are we talking about this? Why do you even care? I lied to you, we’re done, and I don’t even know why I told you about-about—” She couldn’t finish. Back to being on the edge. Her throat was so tight she could hardly speak. “Go, Wyatt. Just... leave me alone.”
He started to speak. Instead he went to the door and opened it. “We’re not finished talking about this.”
“Aren’t we?”
He didn’t answer. He shut the door behind him. And Mia sank to the floor and cried. When she ran dry she got on her phone and started looking for flights back to Denver.
Wyatt sat in the darkened kitchen, a shot glass and a bottle of Jack Daniels in front of him. He wasn’t exactly drunk, but he wasn’t exactly sober either. He wasn’t scheduled to work for a few more days, so it didn’t matter if he had a hangover tomorrow.
Yet he couldn’t get drunk. He couldn’t wrap his mind about Mia’s revelation. Mia had been pregnant with his baby. She’d lost it. She’d lied about it. A lie of omission was still a lie.
“Wyatt? What in the hell are you doing sitting in here in the dark?” Dylan came in through the back door, tossed his keys on the counter, and turned on an overhead light. He took off his coat and carried it to the mudroom.
“Shit.” Wyatt covered his eyes. “Turn that light off. It’s blinding me.”
“Bad night?” Dylan asked. He turned off the overhead, leaving a lamp on, and walked over to him.
“How could you tell?” Wyatt asked sarcastically.
Dylan pointed to the bottle. “You hate Jack. Something’s up when you’re drinking it. Especially when there’s other liquor to be had.”
He shrugged. “I wanted a change.” No, he was reminding himself of that night with Mia. When she’d gotten pregnant.
Dylan got out another shot glass and poured himself a drink before sitting down. “What’s going on, Wyatt?”
He tossed back his drink, set the nearly empty glass down. “I asked Mia to marry me tonight. Sort of.” He hadn’t gotten through the proposal.
“Define sort of.”
“I got down on one goddamn knee, told her I loved her, pulled out the ring and said ‘Will you.’ That’s all I got out before she said, ‘Don’t. I can’t,’ and ran out of the room.”
“No shit? Mia did that?” Wyatt shrugged in answer. “Damn, Wyatt, that really blows.”
“Yes. Yes, it does.” He slugged back more liquor.
“Did she tell you why? I mean, she’s obviously in love with you. I don’t get it.”
“She’s been lying to me. Almost since the first night we got together.” He took another drink and grimaced.
“What’s she been lying about?”
Wyatt had had enough to drink that he didn’t care anymore how he came off. Nothing could make him feel more of a dumbshit than being stopped in the goddamn middle of making a marriage proposal. So Wyatt told him. He went through the whole fucking deal, starting with his “engagement” and ending with tonight when Mia dropped her bombshell.
Dylan listened, mostly silent, with a question here and there to clarify. When Wyatt finished the story, Dylan finished his drink, reached for the bottle and poured them both another shot.
“Wow.” Dylan drank some of his shot. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Join the club.”
“Would she have told you if she hadn’t lost the baby?”
He shrugged. “She says she would have. She said she was packing to come see me and tell me and that’s when she miscarried.”
“You don’t believe her.”
“I don’t know what I believe.” He put his hands on either side of his head, trying to quell the headache. “I believe she was pregnant and that she lost the baby. But... I thought I knew her. I do know her. And I can’t reconcile the woman I know—the woman, damn it, who I still love—with this woman who lied to me about... Goddamn it, Dylan, she lied about my child. Like Loretta did.”
“Oh, bullshit.”
Bullshit? Wondering if he’d heard right, Wyatt looked at him.
“It’s not the same thing at all and you know it. Mia didn’t con you into proposing because she was pregnant. In fact, she did the opposite. First of all, Mia was pregnant with your kid. You believe that, don’t you? That Mia’s baby was yours?”
Wyatt made an impatient gesture. “Yeah, I believe her about that.”
“What would you have done if Mia had told you she was pregnant—from your one night together—just weeks after Loretta scammed you?”
“How the hell should I know? The point is, she didn’t tell me.”
“Holy shit, Wyatt, you told her you were moving the very day she was going to tell you she was pregnant. Did you ask her to come with you?”
“No. We didn’t... I didn’t... I was still so fucked up, I needed to get my head together.”
“Did you even talk to her after you moved? Before you called her to come hold your hand?”
“Goddamn it, I didn’t ask her to hold my hand. I wanted to see her. I missed her.”
“Which she knew because you talked to her all the time, right?”
“Whose side are you on?”
“I think I’m on Mia’s.”
Wyatt glared at his brother. If it didn’t take so much energy he’d slug him.
“Don’t be stupid, Wyatt. You know I’m on your side. But I can see her side of it, and if you weren’t so screwed up you’d see it too.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Because I’m not allowing you to wallow? You said you still loved her.”
“Yeah. So?”
“Then you have a decision to make. You can either let her go or you can figure out a way to make it work.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“The bottom line is. Let her go or convince her to stay.” He finished off his drink and got up.
“Dylan.”
“Yeah?”
“What would you do?”
Dylan laughed. “I don’t have a clue. I’ve never been in love. Kind of doubt I ever will be.”
Mia crept downstairs early the next morning, hoping to avoid everyone. Surely Glory wouldn’t be at the ranch yet. If she was coming today at all. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the kitchen was empty. Until she saw the coffeepot full of steaming, no doubt delicious, coffee. Great. Glory was here.
Mia was in a hell of a mess. She’d spent hours last night online and on the phone, trying to find a flight to Denver today, the twenty-sixth. Which was clearly a terrible time to have picked. Ever heard of Christmas ski vacations, Mia? There was skiing much closer than Colorado. There were a number of resorts and ski areas within easy distance of Bozeman. Bridger Bowl and Big Sky to name only two of them.
Regardless, every damn flight to Denver that day was full. She’d looked at Colorado Springs and other places that weren’t terribly far from Denver. No luck. Fine. She’d go to the airport, buy a ticket for the next available flight, whatever day it was, and go standby to try to catch an earlier flight. So what if she spent days in the airport? Anything was better than being here.
Wyatt had said they weren’t finished talking, but Mia was done. There was no point in rehashing what they’d already been through. No point, when the end result would be the same. She and Wyatt were through.
In the early morning hours, it had occurred to her she had no way to get to the airport. Marietta had a taxi service, but driving to Bozeman would cost a small fortune. Maybe there was a bus. Even so, she’d still have to beg a ride into town. Obviously, she couldn’t ask Wyatt. She didn’t feel right asking Dylan. Jack and Maya were out for obvious reasons. Honey was gone. She didn’t know another soul she could ask. Except Glory.
A little while later Glory entered the kitchen, stopping short when she saw Mia. “I didn’t expect anyone to be up. But since you are, what can I get you for breakfast?”
She’s so kind. So motherly. Before she met Glory, Mia hadn’t felt a mother’s touch in years. She’d forgotten how comforting it could be.
“Nothing, thanks. Coffee is fine.”
Glory gave her a considering look. Without saying anything, she cut a piece of cinnamon crumb cake, put it on a plate with a fork, and placed it in front of Mia. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee, looked at the cake, looked down at her stomach, muttered, “Oh, hell,” and cut herself a piece. Still without speaking, she sat down with her breakfast and started eating.
Okay, so the coffee cake looked, and smelled, delicious. This was her last meal, of sorts. Sighing, she forked a bite and ate it. Soon, she’d eaten the whole thing, which Glory had undoubtedly banked on.
“Now,” Glory said as soon as she finished, “now that you’ve got a little food in you, you can tell me what’s wrong.”
“I have to go back to Denver.”
“Today?” Mia nodded. “Is it your family? Did something happen?”
“I don’t have any family. They’re dead.” Damn it, the words were out before she could stop them.
“I’m sorry,” Glory said, and patted her hand.
“It happened a long time ago.” Glory simply sat, not being pushy, not saying a word, but Mia felt the sympathy emanating from her nonetheless. “Wyatt and I broke up,” she said abruptly.
“Ah.” She nodded. “That explains the Jack Daniels. I wondered when I came in and saw an empty bottle and two shot glasses on the table.”
Wyatt drank Jack Daniels whiskey last night, which he hated. That was what he’d had the night they first made love. Did that mean anything?
“Does this have anything to do with what you were upset about the other day when we talked?”
“Yes. Everything to do with it.”
“I’m real sorry to hear you two broke up. I think you’re good for each other. I know you’re good for Wyatt, and from what I can tell, he’s good for you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I lied to him and he can’t forgive me. I don’t blame him. I can’t forgive myself.” Even if he could, by some miracle, forgive her, there was still the issue that Wyatt wanted kids and she couldn’t give them to him.
“This is awfully sudden. Are you sure he won’t forgive you? Maybe you should talk some more.”
“I’m sure. We’ve said all there is to say.” Regardless of what Wyatt said last night, she knew it was over between them. “I hate to ask you, Glory, but I don’t have anyone else to ask. Could you drive me to the airport? I know it’s an imposition.”
“Of course it’s not. When is your flight?”
“I’m flying stand-by. The sooner I get there the better.”
“Standby? At this time of year? You’ll be waiting for days.”
Almost certainly. Mia shrugged. “Can’t be helped. One other thing. I’m taking my paintings with me that will fit in the portfolio, but I can’t take the larger ones. And I don’t have time to pack them up to ship them.”
“I can do that for you.”
“No. You’re so sweet, but I can’t let you do that. Why don’t you take the ones you want and get rid of the rest? I can’t imagine Wyatt will want them.” What would he do with the one she’d given him for Christmas? Keep it, but put it away? Sell it? Or throw it away. Well, that wasn’t her problem now.
“I can’t take your paintings. They’re art. They’re valuable. Lord only knows what they’re worth. You should let me send them to you.”
She grasped Glory’s hand. “Please, I want you to have them. If you don’t want them you can sell them.”
Scandalized, Glory said, “I most certainly will not! Sell your paintings? Not in this lifetime.”
Mia had to laugh. “Artists sell their work all the time, Glory. Otherwise we’d starve. But they’re yours now, so what happens to them is up to you.”
“Then I’ll keep them. And whenever you want them back, just say the word.”
Glory looked stubborn but she didn’t say anything else. Which meant she wouldn’t sell them.
“I can’t leave quite yet,” Glory said. “Can you wait about an hour?”
“Of course. Whatever is good for you.” She could last another hour. It wasn’t as if she’d think about Wyatt and the mess she’d made of her life any less if she were at the airport.