Then he’d go back to Payne, lock down the little airport, leaving Lang, Sue Ann and Stu in charge, and he’d go make a movie. Why not? He’d save his company and he’d do it himself, not the way his extended family would have done it, not by taking handouts.

First mission—see Katie and apologize for abandoning her on a moment’s notice.

He dreaded it.

He couldn’t wait.

He was scared to death.

When he got back to Humboldt County a couple of days later, he rented a truck, loaded his Harley in the back and drove to Virgin River. He stopped off at Jack’s for a beer and a meal, killing time and bolstering his courage before facing her. He was afraid if she cried he’d never be able to leave, to do what he had to do. If she was furious with his unannounced appearance, it might take him a lifetime to convince her he wasn’t a low-life loser to treat her as he had and he’d never be able to leave her. If she threw her arms around him…yeah, he’d never be able to leave her.

He had a second beer and barely touched his dinner.

Katie visited Mel Sheridan, the friendly neighborhood midwife, who confirmed what she already knew—pregnant. In addition to an appointment for an ultrasound in Grace Valley to determine an accurate due date and a bunch of vitamins, Mel insisted on running a battery of tests for STDs. This was a very sensible precaution under the circumstances.

“Failed condom?” Katie asked Mel. “Seriously?”

“It’s been known to happen,” Mel said. “Or maybe brief contact before or after the condom… Whatever it was, Katie, it’s the real deal. Do we need to have a discussion of your options?”

“What options?” Katie asked.

“Are you planning on having the baby? Because I don’t—”

“Yes,” Katie said without hesitation.

“And the father?” Mel asked.

“Long gone,” Katie said.

“I’m sorry. I take that to mean he doesn’t know?”

Katie shook her head.

“Do you want him to know?”

“What’s the difference?” she asked with a shrug.

“There’s the issue of financial support,” Mel said. “The only time I don’t recommend pursuing that is in cases of abuse or neglect or… Katie, you didn’t make this baby alone and you don’t have to shoulder all the responsibility alone. And there’s the fact that he deserves to know, unless telling him endangers you or the child.”

She took a deep breath. Dylan was passionate about not wanting children, but he was a good man. But what kind of father would a man like that make? Probably just an absent one. She was better off on her own. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I appreciate your help.” Then she bit her lower lip—but he was wonderful with her boys.

“If there’s anything I can do…”

“I don’t think there’s anything more right now.” Because she was going to tell her brother and Leslie. It was early, yes. And maybe it being early, Conner would stop twitching by the time she began to show.

A couple of days later, Katie asked Leslie and Conner if they could come out to the cabin after work for a beer. They sat on the porch and kept an eye on the monkeys on the swing set. Katie had tea while Leslie and Conner had cold beer.

“It really is beautiful out here,” Leslie said. “So peaceful.”

“I’m going to need something that’s not in the woods, I think,” Katie said.

“I was afraid you might be nervous out here,” Conner said. “You can’t see your neighbors, the boys are attracted to the forest and could get lost, you had a bear wandering around here…”

Do it just like a Band-Aid, Katie thought. Rip it off, get it over with. “I’m pregnant.”

They both just looked at her in stunned disbelief.

“Talk about a conversation stopper,” she said. “Total accident. Obviously my protection failed. But it is what it is. So, my timeline for finding a job, a house in a regular neighborhood with neighbors, near whatever school we decide on just got a lot shorter. Of course, I’d like it to be close to you guys, but I understand there just might not be anything available in your neighborhood. Who do you think is the best person to talk to about that? About available housing?”

They both just stared at her for a moment. Finally it was Conner who said, “Pregnant.”

“Yep. Of course not very—it’s early. I don’t have an official due date because I’m so bad about keeping track of things, but there’s only been one…” She cleared her throat. “It’s early. That explains not feeling very well for the past couple of weeks…” That, and a battered heart. “But there was no point in waiting to tell you. Hopefully by the time I start feeling better you’ll stop reeling from the news and maybe the boys and I can find a more suitable place to live before the start of school. Before I get, you know, enormous. Because I’m going to have to hunker down and nest. I think I’ll be due around March first next year. But that’s just a guess. And if there’s a God, it’s only one.”

Conner leaned toward her, elbows on his knees. “Katie…”

“There’s not a whole lot more to say, Conner. As you know, it was one-hundred-percent consensual, even though it wasn’t planned. And yes, I’m on my own. I know it’s asking a lot, that I’ve already asked too much of you, but I hope you’ll be supportive. I’ll take care of myself, I promise. I just want your emotional support, that’s all.”

Leslie put her hand on Conner’s forearm. “Of course we’ll do everything we can, Katie. Anything you need.”

“He doesn’t know?” Conner asked.

“There’s no point, Conner. This was just a stop for Dylan and he’s moved on. Dylan was not cut out to be a family man.”

“Fine,” Conner said with his teeth locked together in the back of his mouth. “That’s fine. But you have to tell him. He can write a check. You shouldn’t have to carry the whole load.”

“Let’s not go there yet,” she said. “It might not seem so practical when he demands joint custody or something. I’d like some time to think about all the possible repercussions. And if it’s not too much to ask, can we keep this between us for now?”

“Are you all right, Katie?” Leslie asked.

“Oh, besides that tired-all-the-time thing and getting a little green around the gills sometimes, I’m the picture of health. I’ll admit I’m a little upside down emotionally, but that’ll pass. And jeez, Conner, at least he didn’t die. Huh?”

Conner’s fierce expression didn’t ease for a long time, but just the same Katie forced the conversation to houses, taking delivery of stored household goods from her old house in Sacramento, possible jobs Katie might be able to handle while pregnant. Conner was still kicking around the idea of a hardware store, smaller than the one they owned in Sacramento, but if he did open one nearby, that would solve a lot of problems.

As Conner and Leslie were leaving, Conner pulled Katie into his arms and held her close. “You never have to ask me to stand by you. No matter what happens in our lives, we always stand by each other.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

When they left, Katie pulled the boys inside and fixed them grilled cheese sandwiches, which they wolfed down in what seemed like seconds. Then she asked them to go to the loft and either watch movies or play quietly. “Mommy needs a nice soak in the tub.”

The boys exchanged concerned glances.

“Just a soak,” she assured them with a little smile. “And do not go outside!”

Thirteen

On the way back to town, Leslie spent a great deal of time trying to talk Conner down. “I know you feel very protective of Katie, but she’s a grown woman who made adult choices and is now living up to them very admirably. She obviously wants to have this baby. Try to be happy for her.”

“She look happy to you?” he nearly growled. “He needs to be accountable!”

“I think she’d be happier if things had gone a little differently—like if she’d had more time to develop a lasting relationship with Dylan. But, Conner, things don’t always go the way we want.”

“Humph,” he grunted. “What kind of a man walks out on a pregnant woman?”

“Maybe the kind who has no idea she’s pregnant,” Leslie said. “I want you to do a little memory check—we made love before we established our future together. It could’ve happened to us.”

“I wouldn’t have walked away like he did.”

She laughed softly. “Actually, you admitted later that had been your original plan. You had trust issues where women were concerned, you were a secret witness whose life had been threatened. You were going to bolt, but that didn’t stop you from crawling into bed with me.”

“But I stayed!” he argued.

“I repeat—Dylan has no idea there’s a pregnancy! He’s not an ass so much as another version of you a few years ago. We will give Katie love and support and stay out of her business. She can make her own decisions.”

“Doesn’t look like she’s making really good ones,” he grumbled angrily.

“If she heard this from you, she would be furious,” Leslie said. “And you’d be lucky if she ever confided in you again.”

“Let me get it out!” he said. “I’ll get it out, I’ll be done with it! Katie won’t have to put up with this from me. I’ll take care of her.”

Leslie sighed. “Stop at Jack’s,” she said. “I’ll get something of Preacher’s to take home. And whatever you have to do to be done with this, do it. I don’t want all this anger from you—I’ve never had to deal with this from you before. You get about fifteen more minutes, then I’m out of patience.”

She soon realized how badly she’d chosen her words. It was almost six o’clock, the bar was at peak dinner hour when they walked in. There were only a couple of empty tables or bar stools. Sitting at the end of the bar with a beer and a dinner plate was Dylan Childress.

It was like waving the red cape in front of the bull.

Conner didn’t look right or left. He stomped into the bar, grabbed Dylan by the front of his shirt, taking him completely by surprise, lifting him off the stool, and began to drag him out of the bar. Leslie screamed, “Jaaaccckkk!” Dylan hooked his boot behind Conner’s knee and they both went down, toppling a table as they crashed to the floor. Just like a scene from the old West, people rose and pushed back tables and chairs to stay out of the way of a good old-fashioned bar fight.

And the fists flew, both men making significant, loud, crunching contact. They each got off two or three on the other before Jack, Paul Haggerty, Conner’s boss and, fortuitously, Mike Valenzuela, the town cop, pulled them apart and got them outside. Dan Brady and Preacher came from the kitchen for backup. Most of the people who had been in the bar were more than happy to leave their dinners to get cold while they headed for the porch, enjoying the show. And quite the show it was, complete with Preacher in what could have appeared to be a bloody apron, except it was tomato sauce.

“What the fuck?” Dylan yelled through a split lip, spitting blood onto the street.

“You are the fuck!” Conner returned nasally, his nose having taken on a weird shape and now bleeding onto his shirt. “You don’t treat my sister like the gum on your shoe!”

“No, I don’t! Am I here? I’m here! Why do you think I’m here? She’s a good woman. I care about her!”

“A little late, cowboy,” Conner shot back. “Let go of me,” he said over his shoulder to Paul and Dan Brady. “Let me kill him. I’ll wipe up after.”

“You just try, asshole,” Dylan roared. “That fucker’s crazy! Lock him up, will you?”

Jack and Preacher held on to Dylan. Mike V. stood between the opposing teams. “We don’t exactly have a lockup around here,” he said. “I could call the sheriff, however. But I’d have to give him both of you.”

“I don’t like their chances for family holidays,” Jack said to Preacher. “Do you?”

“Did I do anything?” Dylan asked hotly. “I was having a beer and a meal!”

“And screwing my sister!” Conner shouted.

“Conner!” Leslie shouted from the porch. “Shut up!”

“You hurt her!” Conner yelled at Dylan, failing to take his beloved’s advice.

“I’m back here to try to make amends!” Dylan yelled back.

“You’re a little late, pretty boy!”

“You son of a—” And with that, Dylan threw himself against the strong arms that held him.

A piercing whistle shot through the air and everyone stopped yelling and moving. Right at the base of the porch stood Mel Sheridan and her partner, Doc Michaels. Jack lifted his eyebrows, wondering if that whistle had come out of his wife.

“Two choices, gentlemen,” Mike Valenzuela said. “You can walk away quietly, get patched up and go home or I can cuff you and call the sheriff’s deputy.”

Dylan immediately stopped struggling. “I’m not the problem,” he pointed out.

“Wanna get your lip fixed?” Jack asked.

“Pretty boy probably needs a plastic surgeon,” Conner said.

“I’m about done trying,” Mike V. said.