TAYLOR HAD AWOKEN to discover that Brian had packed up his stuff and taken off during the night.
Well, what did you expect? You tempted him out of his shell and then squashed him like a bug.
The house felt empty with Brian gone. She hadn’t heard a word from him in six weeks. There was nothing she could do but wait and see what he did. Brian would either find the courage to take the test or he wouldn’t. And he would find the courage to live with the results—whatever they were—or he wouldn’t.
And he’ll either come for you, or he won’t.
Brian had trusted her enough to share his fears. She wished she’d told him she believed in him. She wished she’d told him she had faith he could do anything he set his mind to. She wished she’d told him she would love him whether he passed the test or not.
She wished she’d told him she was pregnant.
When Brian had made that remark about her rounded belly, she’d been afraid he’d guessed the truth. Luckily, he’d remained in the dark. Although, she didn’t know how lucky that was, really. Because if he’d been the least bit suspicious, they could have discussed the baby before he’d walked out the door.
To make matters worse, she hadn’t yet told her family she was pregnant. It didn’t seem fair to tell them before she’d told Brian. She might have told Vick, if she’d been living at home, but her twin was back in Montana. Taylor didn’t want to give her sister the news over the phone, or in a text or email.
Leah looked at her with a worried eye, but Taylor had been so exhaustingly exuberant during her elder sister’s visits that she didn’t leave room for Leah to ask, “Are you okay? Is something wrong? Why are you so flushed?”
She was planning to attend a Christmas dinner at Kingdom Come at noon. They usually opened presents after they ate. It would be a perfect opportunity to tell her family, all at once, that she was expecting Brian Flynn’s child.
Then, somehow, some way, she had to tell Brian.
Maybe he’ll call to wish you a Merry Christmas, and you can suggest a meeting. Maybe you should call him and tell him to come by, because you have a present for him.
Some present.
Taylor sighed and settled back in her chair and stretched her feet on the ottoman. The crackling fire was comforting, and she opened her book, yet another Stephen King novel. It was a good thing he was a prolific author, because she’d done a lot of reading lately to avoid thinking about how much she missed Brian.
The good news was that she’d been cleared of wrongdoing by the NTSB. The kind of flying she did was high risk, and surveying the landing area where she’d dropped jumpers was considered appropriate under the circumstances. The tornado of fire that had flamed out both engines had an infinitesimal probability of occurring in the future. She was certified to fly again.
Taylor was glad to have her license restored, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to pilot a Twin Otter again anytime soon. She had her rental income—what was left after the mortgages and insurance were paid—to live on, so she didn’t need to fly. Now that she was pregnant, and about to become a single mother, she didn’t want to engage in the sorts of risks she incurred when she dropped smoke jumpers on the fringes of an out-of-control forest fire.
She’d begun “nesting,” preparing her home for the baby’s arrival. She’d bought a white baby sleeper that featured yellow ducklings, marveling at how tiny newborns were. She’d started looking at baby furniture online. And she’d cleared out the bedroom across from hers and painted it sunshine yellow.
If she was guilty of keeping the news that he was going to be a father from Brian, he was equally guilty of disappearing without a word. He could have called. He could have sent her a text. He could have shown up at her door, for that matter.
He’d kept his distance. So she’d kept hers.
She had trouble getting the zipper up on her jeans these days, but she could wear an untucked shirt and hide her baby bump. She still had time to speak to Brian before her pregnancy could no longer be hidden. And the baby wasn’t going anywhere.
Taylor woke up in her chair an hour after she’d sat down. She supposed her body had needed the sleep, but she was going to be late for Christmas dinner. She jumped up and hurried to her bedroom to dress. She had to choose wisely, because she didn’t want someone guessing she was pregnant. She wanted to make the announcement on her own terms.
She arrived at Kingdom Come at a quarter after twelve, surprised that no one was sitting at the dining room table. She’d figured they’d be waiting impatiently for her. Where was everyone?
“Hello? Anybody home?”
She was expecting Leah to answer her, but a male voice—not her father’s or Matt’s—called back, “We’re in the great room.”
Taylor hurried through the house to the great room, with its cathedral ceiling and spectacular view of the snowcapped Tetons, and stopped abruptly in the doorway. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” she muttered. The room was filled with an astounding number of people, both Grayhawks and Flynns.
Matt stood at the window looking out, his six-year-old son, Nathan, in his arms, pointing at something outside. Matt’s daughter, Pippa, a blanket-wrapped baby in her arms, sat on the studded leather couch beside Devon Flynn. They’d eloped shortly after Brian and Taylor had been found alive. Pippa’s child wasn’t Devon’s, but he’d fallen in love with her, and she with him, and they seemed delighted to be the parents of a beautiful baby girl.
A glowing Eve sat on the stone bench that ran along the front of the fireplace next to her husband, Connor Flynn. Connor’s two children by his late wife, four-year-old Brooke and two-year-old Sawyer, sat cross-legged on the brindle cowhide in front of the fireplace playing with Legos.
They all seemed so happy. Taylor found herself fighting back envy. Somehow, two women in this family had made good marriages with Flynn men. Why couldn’t she?
Because the Flynn man has to fall in love with you and ask you to marry him, that’s why. Maybe Brian just doesn’t love you enough. Maybe he never will.
Taylor suddenly felt queasy. She swallowed back the bile in her throat. If she threw up, Leah would figure things out in a flash. Which meant she absolutely, positively could not vomit.
She couldn’t believe King hadn’t objected to the presence of the two Flynn brothers since, in her lifetime, he’d never let a Flynn across the threshold. King sat glowering in “his” chair, an enormous studded leather monstrosity, holding court with a crystal glass in his hand that appeared to contain scotch.
Her twin perched on the arm of King’s chair, holding a drink of her own.
Leah was walking toward her, hands outstretched, a smile on her face. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She winked and said, “For a while there, I was afraid we’d be outnumbered at the dinner table by Flynns.”
“How is King taking all this…family?” Taylor asked.
“He’s fine.”
“How is he fine? He hates Flynns.”
“I gave him an ultimatum,” Leah said. “Behave himself—or else.”
Taylor shuddered theatrically. “I’ve been the recipient of a few of those ultimatums. You’re definitely not to be trifled with when armed with an ‘or else.’ ”
They both laughed. Taylor let Leah lead her into the great room.
“You know everybody,” Leah said, and then announced, “Taylor’s here.”
Taylor smiled and nodded to each family group in turn, pleasantly surprised by the cordial greetings she got from the two Flynn brothers. What else had she expected? Connor and Devon looked besotted with their respective spouses. Naturally, they’d been willing to grit their teeth and endure breaking bread in the home of their respective Grayhawk fathers-in-law—King and Matt—for the sake of the women they loved.
What was more amazing to Taylor was the fact that King seemed equally sanguine. Taylor gave Leah the credit for that miracle. Taylor would have liked to be a fly on the wall when her sister had arranged this Christmas dinner and laid down the law with King.
“Is anybody hungry?” Leah asked.
Brooke jumped to her feet, threw an arm in the air and yelled, “I am!”
Sawyer followed suit, jumping up and down as he shouted, “I am!”
“Then let’s eat!” Leah said, looping her arm through Taylor’s and heading back down the hall toward the dining room, letting everyone follow at their leisure.
“I wish you would’ve let me bring something,” Taylor said.
“I had far too much fun planning a menu and decorating the table and cooking everything myself.” Leah met Taylor’s gaze and said, “The house has felt empty without you. How are you?”
Nothing happened in Jackson that everyone didn’t know about. Leah had called when she heard Brian had moved out, but Taylor had explained, “He was only staying with me because it was too far to drive from the Lucky 7 for rehab. Once he was well, he left. There’s no more to the story than that.”
Leah hadn’t been satisfied with that answer, but she hadn’t pushed for more, for which Taylor was grateful.
Taylor had no experience with the family dinner that followed. Having kids at the table made for more confusion, but also a lot of laughter. The two brothers were able to speak to each other and their wives, even though King didn’t deign to join the conversation.
Although her father presided at the head of the table, he didn’t say more than ten words at dinner. It was clear to Taylor that Leah had put a leash on his tongue, because every time King opened his mouth to speak, Leah’s chin lifted and her narrowed eyes turned in his direction.
Taylor sat beside her twin. Their conversation at dinner had been surprisingly stilted. She reached for her twin’s hand under the table and asked, “Are you all right?”
To her amazement, Vick pulled her hand free. Taylor stared at her with shocked eyes and whispered, “Vick? What’s wrong?”
Her twin looked miserable. They’d spoken as recently as two days ago, when Vick was packing to return home for Christmas, and her twin had seemed excited to be coming. Something dreadful must have happened since then. Why hadn’t Vick called to share whatever calamity had occurred? Why was her sister being so reticent now?
Why haven’t you told Vick you’re pregnant?
Taylor was both stunned and shocked to realize that, sometime over the past year, the unbreakable bond that had held them together since birth had begun to unravel.
We never keep secrets from each other. Or, at least, we never used to keep secrets.
But she’d kept her pregnancy from Vick. And Vick was obviously keeping something—something terrible, she feared—from her.
Taylor was confused. And angry. Most of all, she was hurt. Everything had been different between them since Vick got that place in Montana. Why had she done it? What the hell was so special about some cabin in the woods?
It was only when Taylor got up to go to the bathroom before dessert that Vick said loud enough to stop all conversation at the table, “I’m glad to see you’re not cozying up to Brian Flynn anymore. I don’t think I could bear to have another Flynn at this table.”
That was the last straw. Vick might not know about the pregnancy, but she knew Taylor loved Brian. How could she attack him at the dinner table in front of their father and his brothers?
She took a deep breath and said, “That’s really a shame, because you’ve been sitting next to one the entire meal.”
“What are you talking about?” Vick looked to her left, where Leah sat, and to her right, where Taylor stood. “What Flynn?”
“The one I’m carrying in my belly.”