“I’ve never heard him raise his voice before,” Miss Warner said, baffled.

  “I pushed his buttons,” Briar said unhappily.

  “Should I ask what it’s about?”

  “No.” Briar rubbed her face and straightened. “I’ll try to talk to him later, but after he calms down. He’s not going to listen to anything I have to say now.”

  “Can I ask what it is about?”

  Briar hesitated and then nodded. “Jet. I’m not to have any communication with Jet unless there are others in the room.”

  Miss Warner sighed. “I see.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sunday morning, they left the Sundowner at four forty-five. It was an hour earlier than they’d initially agreed, but when Briar reviewed the event schedule Saturday night, she was worried she might miss Garrett if she wasn’t in Fort Collins by ten. Jet agreed and so they left earlier than planned, with a stop for coffee once they were on the highway as Jet couldn’t drive without at least one large cup of strong black coffee.

  It was good to be on the road. Briar had been nervous all night, worried that Cade would discover the plan and put a stop to it—not that he had any right to tell her where she could go, or with whom. But she loved her brother even if she didn’t always understand him, and today was important. This meeting with Garrett was important and she could barely sip from her water bottle as her stomach churned.

  It didn’t help that she was happy to have this time with Jet. She felt guilty for being so happy, especially as it could blow up in their faces. But Cade was heading to outside Yellowstone today to meet a video photographer who was interested in documenting the Sundowner Ranch as well as Miss Warner’s role in it. Cade wasn’t about to let the guy close to the ranch or Miss Warner until he’d thoroughly vetted him.

  When they returned tonight, there might be some questions, but at that point Briar would maybe feel comfortable sharing her news with everyone. Possibly.

  Unlikely.

  She must have said something out loud because Jet glanced at her. “Did you just growl?” he asked.

  “Maybe. I think I’m just really wound up.”

  “Not surprised. It’s a big day.”

  And not just for the reasons he suspected. She was breathless for all the wrong reasons. She was too happy being here with Jet, just being with Jet. And in his truck in the early morning darkness, it felt as if they were the only ones in the universe. There were almost no other cars or trucks on the road and, although Jet’s truck headlights created arrows of light, the morning still felt like a cocoon. It was just the two of them and she was aware of everything about him. His warmth, his big shoulders, his long legs, his muscular arm, and his hand as it rested on the steering wheel. He was wearing a thermal shirt, long sleeves, but they were pushed up on his forearms, revealing his wrists and taut tendons.

  She swallowed hard, willing her attention to something else, preferably something outside, something not tall, dark, and handsome.

  This was how she got in trouble in the first place. She couldn’t be a sucker for a gorgeous face. Or a big, gorgeous body.

  Garrett had never given her butterflies. No one had ever given her butterflies. Just Jet.

  It would be easier if she could ignore him … or ignore the attraction.

  “What if Garrett suggested marriage?” Jet asked, breaking the silence and glancing at her as he drove. “Would you consider it?”

  Briar felt as if he’d doused her with cold water. Immediately, she shook her head. She didn’t even have to think about it. “No. I couldn’t marry him. I shouldn’t have been with him the first time. I certainly won’t spend the rest of my life with him. He’s not a good person.”

  “What drew you to him in the first place?”

  “He was good-looking.”

  “There you go.”

  But not like you, she thought, he was nothing like you.

  “Where did you meet?” Jet asked.

  “At Marietta’s Copper Mountain Rodeo. I saw him at the street dance, not knowing he was there for the rodeo. He was having fun, and not every cowboy can dance, but he could. We danced, and had drinks, and danced some more…” She shook her head. “And then, you know.”

  Jet didn’t say anything and, uncomfortable, she looked out her window. The sky had not yet started to lighten, and she felt the weight of the darkness, the heaviness of her mistakes, the disappointment, the shame. “I regret everything about that night. I wish I could have a redo and I wouldn’t go into town that night. I wouldn’t be anywhere near Marietta or the rodeo. I’d be home hanging out with Dad and taking care of things at the house. I could have cleaned or—”

  “You were twenty-one, Briar,” Jet interrupted. “You’re allowed to go have fun.”

  “But not be stupid.”

  “How were you stupid?”

  “I didn’t—he didn’t—use protection. And I knew I should say something, but I didn’t.”

  Now Jet looked stunned. “Why not? You could get more than a baby by not insisting on a condom. You could get a disease you can’t get rid of.”

  “I was trying to seem cool,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  Her eyes felt dry and gritty, but she wasn’t going to cry anymore. “I should have known better, but I didn’t think you could really get pregnant your first time. But now I know.”

  Jet said nothing, but Briar saw how his fingers tightened around the steering wheel and from the set of his jaw it was obvious he was upset.

  “But I know now,” she added lightly, almost defiantly, because she wasn’t about to let Jet make her feel bad, too. She had learned her lesson, and she’d lived with regret for twenty-eight weeks. There was nothing she could do about that night except make better decisions moving forward.

  Jet took a deep breath. “I’m not mad at you, Briar. I want to kill him. I want to take his pathetic little—”

  “No! No, Jet, you don’t,” she interrupted firmly, giving him an intentionally sorrowful look. “You have a criminal record. You’d get a life sentence for sure.”

  For a moment, Jet said nothing and then he laughed, laughing so hard tears came to his eyes. “You are ruthless.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  Jet laughed again. “You’re also funny, and I like that.”

  “When I first met you, I didn’t think you had a sense of humor.”

  “When I first met you, I thought you were incredibly spoiled.”

  “What?” She turned to look at him. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I know your dad, and let’s face it, unless he’s fooling us all, you’ve hit the lottery with him.”

  “Dad is exactly what he appears to be—solid, real, compassionate, giving. I did hit the jackpot with him. And I love him.”

  “So why not tell him about your pregnancy? Why keep the burden to yourself? Knowing him, he would always support you.”

  “He would. Dad would never throw me out, and he wouldn’t tell me how disappointed he was. He wouldn’t ever want me to feel shame, but he’s going to be so disappointed. He’ll carry it on the inside, and he’ll feel as if he failed, which isn’t right since he didn’t fail. I failed. I was the one who messed up and I’m not going to let him go through the rest of his life thinking he should have done something a little different. I don’t want him praying, asking God for guidance because he has let me down, or asking God to forgive him for not being a better parent. My dad is a great dad, and if I keep my baby, he’ll be a wonderful grandfather, but he’s not going to be stuck with raising my baby. I’m not going to let him feel guilt or responsible for my mistakes. I’m going to figure this out and protect him. It’s time I did that. It’s the least I can do.”

  Jet reached over and took her hand. “No matter what decision you make, I want you to know I respect you and support you. I can’t speak for your dad, but I am certain he would feel the same way.”

  “As long as he doesn’t know it’s Garrett who got me pregnant.”

  Jet shot her a confused look. “Why?”

  “Garrett attended cowboy church the night after hooking up with me. He spent time talking to my dad, acting like this really good Christian, after totally ignoring me when we both arrived at the same time.” She felt the same pain she felt then. “I don’t think he knew I was Pastor Phillips’s daughter.” She hesitated. “I don’t know if he even knew my name.”

  “Remind me why you liked him again?” Jet held up a hand to keep her from answering. “That’s a rhetorical question. I don’t want to know anything else about him. He’s just making me mad.” He glanced at her. “Briar, if your mom was here, do you think you would have been able to confide in her?”

  “I’d like to think so. Mom wasn’t the least bit judgmental—but then, neither is Dad. I do wish Mom was here to talk to. I wish I’d talked to her when I had her, instead of giving her a hard time. I was too young to appreciate her, too angry.”

  “Why such a hothead, Phillips?”

  “I wish I knew.” She grimaced, aware she’d had a rebellious streak as long as she could remember.

  When she was little, she didn’t want to give her parents a hard time, but growing up Briar was often bored, and always restless. Even in kindergarten she didn’t want to color within the lines. She hadn’t cared if her handwriting was terrible. She didn’t try to show her work in math, and even though it hurt her grade, she had the right answer, so why couldn’t she do it in her head?

  Why couldn’t she just do life her way?

  But doing life her way was proving incredibly problematic. Maybe it was time to color within the lines. Show her work. Follow the rules. “I need to tell my dad. I just don’t know when.”

  Jet gave her a sympathetic glance. “You’ll have a better idea of what to tell your dad once you talk to Garrett.”

  Her stomach fell, her insides churning. She dreaded facing Garrett. She dreaded the conversation, but soon it would be over, and she’d know what he wanted to do. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

  *

  Briar found Garrett over by his rig at the Fort Collins fairgrounds. It was a small rig, one that had seen better days. He was sitting outside the trailer, leaning back in a folding chair, hat pulled down low on his head shielding his eyes. He had a beer in his hand and a six-pack at his feet.

  He pushed the brim of his hat up as she approached. “Briar Phillips,” he said. “What brings you to Fort Collins?”

  “So, you do know my name,” she said, digging her hands into her vest pockets. “I wasn’t so sure when you ignored me at my dad’s church.”

  “If we’re going to be honest, I didn’t know your last name, or that you were related to Pastor Phillips, not until one of my friends told me later.” He looked her up and down. “Come to get some more?”

  “No. It wasn’t that good the first time.”

  His smile faded. “Then what are you doing here, or are you just in town to ride another cowboy?”

  She had to fight the urge to kick him. It would have felt good to kick him, but losing her temper wouldn’t help any of them. “Not interested in hooking up or sex. Just thought I should let you know that—” She broke off, unsure now how to say it, unsure if she wanted him to know, but then she thought of the life growing inside of her and how she owed her daughter more. “I’m pregnant. We are pregnant,” she clarified, pointing to him and then to herself. “The baby’s due July second.”

  He smiled at her, a lazy amused smile, even as he drained his beer, dropping it at his side. The glass bottle clinked as it landed on the other empties. “We don’t know that it’s mine.” Garrett kept smiling. “Fact is, I’m sure it’s not mine. It could be anyone’s—”

  “No, it—” Briar wasn’t about to tell him she was carrying a girl, not to a man who treated women so poorly. “It is.” Her chin notched up, her expression grim. “It could only be yours. You were my first. You are still the only one I have slept with. There is no doubt in who created this baby.”

  “Not interested in being a daddy. Not interested in setting up house, getting married, don’t want to be part of any of that.”

  “But you are going to be a daddy.”

  “No, I’m not. Not interested.”

  “So, why didn’t you wear a condom?”

  “Assumed you were on the pill.” He smiled at her, an ugly smile. “Why didn’t you ask me to wear a condom? Unless you wanted me to be the baby’s daddy?”

  “Why would I want to be a mom at twenty-two?”

  “You can get rid of it.”

  “I’m in my third trimester.”

  “So?” He reached into his back pocket pulled out a battered leather wallet, opened it and drew out a number of bills. Rising, he thrust the crumpled bills into her hand. “This should take care of it,” he said.

  She looked down at her hand, and the four one-hundred-dollar bills. “What’s this? To start a college fund?”

  “There are always places who can handle these things—”

  “No.” Briar’s jaw firmed, and her lips compressed, holding back her disgust. “That was never an option.”

  “That’s right. You’re a sweet little church girl. Well, too bad, darlin’. This isn’t my problem. I don’t want it and I’m not going to pay child support and I’m not interested in having any relationship with it, so I’ve given you money to do the right thing. So, do the right thing and leave me alone.”

  “And what do I tell our baby? Your daddy didn’t want you—”

  He lunged toward her, hand raised. “Keep my name out of your mouth. Don’t say anything about me. Don’t send it my way. Got it?”

  She wondered if he’d actually hit her if she continued to provoke him. And Briar was a hothead, but she wasn’t interested in testing his self-control. “So that’s it,” she said glancing down at the four hundred dollars in her hand. “We’re done?”

  “So done. Now do us both a favor and get lost.”

  *

  Briar’s legs shook as she walked across the enormous parking lot to where Jet was waiting for her. She climbed in and put on her seat belt without saying a word. She saw Jet glance at her, but he said nothing. And as they got back on the freeway, they were both silent. Briar couldn’t bring herself to speak and Jet didn’t ask questions.

  But after a while, she couldn’t keep all the emotion in. A tear fell, and she reached up to knock it away, and then another tear fell, and she tried to knock this one away, but she was fighting a losing battle.

  Jet reached into his truck’s center console, pulled out a little tissue packet and handed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, wiping her eyes and then blowing her nose.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

  She shook her head. But then after a very long tortuous silence said, “He was such a jerk.” Her voice cracked, broke. “He was awful.”

  “You caught him off guard. I’m sure when he gets used to the idea—”

  “He gave me four hundred dollars toward an abortion. He told me to go fix it. I said I was in the third trimester and he didn’t care. He doesn’t want to see me again.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. Now I don’t have to worry about him. I don’t have to feel guilty for not doing the ethical thing. I told him. I told him the truth, and he said some pretty rude things, and now I can just focus on doing the best thing for me and the baby, whatever that is.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jet was glad when Briar fell asleep, or pretended to sleep, hoping she had a release from the pain.

  He was upset for her, livid that anyone would treat her so badly. He knew men were violent and cruel but poor Briar. She was still so innocent and still finding it hard to distinguish between the good guys and the bad guys.

  Maybe there were men who genuinely didn’t care about women, but Jet wasn’t one of them, having felt a strong sense of responsibility for his mom even as a boy. During college he’d lived at home in Polson, and made the drive daily to Missoula, just so his mom wouldn’t be alone. If she’d had a different personality, he would have been happy to stay on campus and be a student, but his mom had no family, and her only friends were women she knew at work, and they weren’t the type to socialize outside of work.

  His senior year at Missoula, he asked his mom if she thought she’d ever date again. She was still so pretty at thirty-eight, far too young to spend the rest of her life alone. She said maybe, one day, but she wasn’t ready quite yet.

  After graduating, Jet needed a career, and even though aeronautics were out, he was intrigued by the idea of flying. He’d like to be a pilot and he approached a US Navy recruiter. There were plenty of prerequisites to even apply to the flight school, but he met them all. Jet didn’t tell his mom he’d even applied to the Navy’s fighter pilot program until after he’d been accepted. She was proud of him, but also emotional, knowing he’d be moving away. He reminded her that he’d be able to retire earlier than most, in his early forties, and he’d earn good money, too, enough to buy her that house she’d always dreamed of.

  Jet had just been made a commissioned officer when he got word that his mom had been killed. Murdered.

  At twenty-eight, he had every opportunity ahead of him and instead he imploded. He couldn’t grieve, too angry to grieve, too angry she was gone, too angry with himself for not being there to protect her.

  And when he heard that they couldn’t press charges against the prime suspect, a man his mom had met on a dating site, he took matters into his own hands.

  He tracked the man down and beat him within an inch of his life.

  Jet was arrested, and he wouldn’t have been able to make bail if it wasn’t for a friend of his from the Navy flight school. He would have served a longer sentence if it wasn’t for Pastor Patrick Phillips who traveled to Flathead County to see how he could help.

  Thanks to his fellow Navy officers and Pastor Phillips’s support, Jet was saved from a long prison sentence, but his career was over. Worse, he wasn’t someone that people wanted to hire. He wasn’t someone people wanted to know.

 

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