The Expectant Secretary (18 page)

“Jillie, what is it? If not Gail, then what?”

She leveled him with those startling blue-green eyes. “You.”

“I know you don't trust me. But if you'll just hear me out, I think you'll finally understand that it was all a mistake. Gail—”

“I told you,” she snapped. “Gail isn't the issue. Maybe she was the last straw.”

“Then, what is it?”

“It's not just what you did. Or didn't do.” She conceded his point that he might be telling the truth. That gave him a smidgen of hope. “It's what you said…that night.”

“What? Tell me. Maybe you misunderstood me.”

She shook her head. Her throat convulsed. “You were right. I'm not good enough for you. I never have been.”

“What? I never said that.”

“Not directly. But you implied it when you wished you'd been my first lover. That this child of mine was yours. Not James's.” She flung his words back into his face, her voice shaking.

“Jillie, that's not what I meant.” But his heart tripped over itself. Or was that exactly what he'd meant? Had she hit the core of his reluctance, his doubts, his fears?

“Oh? Then, what is it? Explain it to me. Tell me you want this child as much as I do.” She stood, challenging him, daring him to deny it. “Tell me you love me and all that goes with that—my baby. That you can raise it as your own. Without regrets.”

Brody stood. Trying to gather his thoughts, he traced the length of his desk, pacing back and forth, trying to explain away what she'd said. But his own fears pulsed through him. She was right. He had doubts. Lots of them.

Finally he faced her. His throat burned. “I don't have an answer for you. Not yet.” But there had to be a solution. Maybe he just needed time. Maybe they needed time together. “Don't be so hasty. Give us time. We can sort through this.”

“Sort through it? Sort through it?” Her voice quaked with unleashed emotions. “This isn't a merger. This isn't negotiable. There's nothing to sort through. Either you love us or you don't. And from the hesitancy in your eyes, I see time's up.” She trembled, shaking with rage, her face mottling with anger.

Denials filed inside his head. Reasons lined up. But words stuck in his throat.

“I don't have time to make any more stupid mistakes in my life. No more chances. Not when I have this little life depending on me.” Her hand touched her slightly rounded abdomen. Tears glistened in her eyes. “It's over, Brody. Over for good. I should have
let go of any feelings I had for you ten years ago. But I didn't. I hung on to them, nurtured them. But no more. This is it.

“Now, will you unlock the door and let me leave?” She glared at him, daring him to refuse.

His heart thudded dully in his chest, as if every ounce of feeling had been drained out of him. Shock sunk into his bones, paralyzing him. He gave a slow nod. He had nothing left to say. She'd won.

But what had they both lost?

 

Brody had no energy. He felt nothing. He had no appetite. No desire. No need or wants. Except Jillian. And that was an impossibility.

He sat on the supple leather sofa in Ryan Fortune's study. He looked out the window at the courtyard, staring at the few leaves scattered along the tiled pathways but not seeing anything at all. Only Jillian's face emerged in his mind, tight with suppressed emotions, resentment and anger churning in her blue-green eyes.

He remembered dancing with her in this very courtyard only a week ago. Her hand tucked securely in his, her chin tilted toward him. Hope, longing, desire pulling them together. They had been unable to resist.

Now it was gone, as faded and discarded as the flowers from the wedding that had drooped and fallen only to be swept away with brooms and dustpans. A brisk wind blew through the courtyard, and Brody could feel it deep in his bones, as if Jillian's confrontation had left a wind tunnel through his empty, bereft soul.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there. He could barely remember driving to the Double
Crown Ranch late last night after Jillian had left him standing in his office. He'd remained there a long time, feeling the loneliness settle around him like a heavy, suffocating cloak. He'd reached the ranch well after dinner had been served and had barely nodded a greeting to the other Fortunes. He'd trudged up the stairs to the room he'd used when he'd visited the ranch on weekends and fallen onto the bed.

But he hadn't slept. He couldn't.

He'd been right when he'd told Jillian when someone was hurting, aching, miserable, they needed their family, a home, a safe haven. But being among loved ones didn't make Brody feel much better. Anger and sadness warred inside him, crippling him until he couldn't think, move or respond.

Unable to lie in bed any longer, he'd risen before dawn, showered and found his way to Uncle Ryan's study. From the slant of the sunlight, he'd been sitting here for hours. Or maybe it just seemed that long when someone rapped on the door.

“Yes?” he rasped, his throat raw, his voice hoarse.

The door creaked as it opened, and his father peered inside, his tanned, leathery brow wrinkled into a frown. “Here you are, Son.”

“Do you need the study? Does Uncle Ryan?”

Tall and wiry, Teddy Fortune entered the high-beamed room. “No, you're fine. Mind if I come in?”

“Go ahead.” Brody slanted his gaze toward the stone fireplace. An unfinished beam created the mantel. He stared at the blackened grate and felt the ashes of doubts and regrets pile up in his soul.

Teddy sank into the chair beside Brody. He laid his large hands over the rounded arms of the chair, his
fingers curling over the edges. He tapped the leather with his wedding ring. “Trouble at work?” he asked. “With the merger?”

“No, sir. It's going smoothly. Everything is ready for the board meeting tomorrow.” Then what? he wondered. Would he return to Australia? Would he stay here in San Antonio? He couldn't imagine doing anything without Jillie.

“Good. Good.” His father nodded his approval.

Brody heard the ticking of the intricately carved Spanish clock over the mantel and his father's deep, resonating breaths.

“Anything else bothering you?” Teddy asked.

“Nope.”

“I see.” Teddy chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Women trouble, eh?”

Brody cut his eyes toward his father. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Teddy looked at the fireplace. “We heard from the honeymooners last night.”

“Reed and Mallory?”

Teddy nodded. “Yeah. They're doing fine. Enjoying themselves, I'd say.”

“Who wouldn't on a deserted stretch of beach with a beautiful woman?” His remark sounded caustic even to himself and he regretted the statement.

“You're not jealous of your brother, are you, Son?”

“No, sir.” And he wasn't. It had been obvious how much Reed and Mallory loved each other. He simply wanted what they had. And he'd thought he'd found it with Jillie. How had everything gone so wrong?

He knew the answer. It was his fault. His selfish
ness, his foolishness, his muddled thinking had come between him and the woman he loved.

“I didn't think so.” Teddy shifted in his seat, making the leather creak, and crossed one booted foot over his other knee. “So what is it, then?”

“Dad, I'm not thirteen. I can handle this myself.”

“Good. I didn't raise you boys to come running home to daddy every time something goes wrong. I see I did my job well.”

Brody felt a tug on the corner of his mouth.

“We'll just sit here together. In the quiet. We don't have to talk. We can just commune with the…fireplace there.”

Brody fought the urge to smile at his father's caginess. Several minutes passed without either one saying a word. Teddy Fortune had proven his patience with horses years before. And now he used that same patience with his son. He knew his father would sit there waiting for an eternity until Brody explained his problem. How could simple words convey what had gone so terribly wrong?

“You're right, Dad.”

“About?” Teddy asked, his voice gentle with years of wisdom.

“It's about a woman.”

“Usually is, Son. Just 'cause I've been married a long time doesn't mean the trouble stops once you say ‘I do.'”

A tightness seized Brody's chest. “Well, I won't be saying, ‘I do.'”

“That so?”

He nodded. “Not that I'm not willing.”

Or was he? Like tiny, sharp thorns, doubts pressed
into his thoughts once more. Could he really, honestly say he was willing to marry Jillian? He knew what was stopping him. And there wasn't any way to overcome it.

“The lady's not so inclined, eh?”

“That's right.” Or at least that was part of it. A small part. “I suppose I'm not, either. Maybe I'm commitment-phobic. Maybe she's not the right one.” He tried voicing some of his questions, but they rang with a false note.

Brody leaned forward and shot his fingers through his hair, clawing at his skull. If only he could rip those questions out of his head. If only he could get rid of the doubts. But he couldn't. They were there. And he had to acknowledge them. “I don't know what the hell is wrong with me.”

“You don't look like a man who's thrilled that he's off that matrimonial hook.”

“I'm not. But I guess there's no way I can marry her, either.”

“It does take two willing adults.”

Brody shook his head. “The real trouble isn't her. It's me.”

Teddy nodded as if he understood. Brody wished to hell he did.

“I've got these damn questions that won't turn me loose. They won't let me make that commitment. I thought I was ready. I thought I loved her enough. But, hell, maybe I don't.”

“Well, if misery is any evidence of love then I'd say you've got it pretty darn bad. So what is it that's holding you back?”

He released a deep heavy sigh, full of all his anguish and regrets. “She's pregnant.”

“By you?”

“No. If I was the father, then it would be easy. So easy. I'd marry her in a heartbeat.”

“I see.” Teddy scratched his jaw.

Brody looked at his father then. “You do?”

“Sure. You don't know if you'll love this kid. If you can raise it as your own. It's perfectly understandable.”

“It is?”

Sagely, Teddy nodded. “Don't worry about it, Son. It's for the best. At least you realized this now…rather than after you'd married the woman. Nope, this is definitely for the best. No use marrying a woman who's pregnant with another man's baby. Raising another man's child will only lead to trouble.”

Brody raised his eyebrows. This didn't sound like his father. Maybe he hadn't explained the situation fully. “She's not a loose woman. She doesn't fool around. She was married and her husband—”

“The reasons don't matter, Son. Your feelings do. Better you realized it now. Just walk away. Free and clear.”

His insides twisted. “I don't feel free. I feel like a damn coward. I've never backed away from adversity before. Why now?”

Teddy put his hand on Brody's shoulder, his grip strong and firm. “Because marriage is forever. Raising a kid, hell, that's permanent. You can't risk losing on that score.”

“You don't think it sounds pathetic?”

“Nah, it's understandable. I'd feel the same way.”

Stunned by his father's statement, Brody said, “You would?”

“Sure. When Griff showed up as a little boy on our property, I had plenty of doubts. Lots of questions. I didn't know where this kid came from. What he'd been through. It was obvious he'd been treated roughly. I could have been bringing trouble right to our back door.”

Brody nodded, agreeing with his father, understanding his father as an adult. “I've thought about that. About how Griff has always kept himself a little distant from the family. Made me think about…you know, Jillie's baby. How it would accept me as its daddy.”

“Thinking is good. I worried over Griff many a night. Hell, I already had a family, already had you kids. I didn't need any more. Your mother had her hands full chasing you all around. Why burden her more? Why should I risk all we had for this stray?

“And I remembered being raised by my grandpa. Never knew a meaner son of a gun. I was a pawn to him. Not a son. Just something to get back at my father with. And I got mad for the first time in years.”

“So what changed your mind about adopting Griff?” A cold sweat dampened Brody's forehead.

“Your mother,” Teddy said simply, eloquently. “She believed Griff only needed someone to show him a little love, a little kindness. And I'd say she was right. He turned out fine. Better than that. I'm damn proud to call him my son.”

Brody's thoughts churned.

“And so will you be about this kid,” Teddy said, surprising Brody even more.

Brody cut his eyes toward his father. Love and understanding shone in those deep-set gray eyes, mirroring Brody's.

“This kid won't know anyone else as his father,” Teddy said. “It's not the same situation at all. This baby will love you. And you'll love him. You'll see.”

His doubts seemed suddenly smaller, more trivial than before. Hope sprang inside him. He wanted to latch on to his father's words and believe them. But could he? Would that see him through the next twenty years? “You think so?”

“I know so. I can see you love this woman something awful. That love will transmit itself to her child…your child. You'll love the little rascal more than you can imagine right now.”

Brody remained silent, digesting all his father had said. His heart ached with the prospect of losing Jillian. Or had he lost her already? That fear galvanized him. He loved her more than anything or anyone he'd ever known. He needed her, more than he needed his family. He knew that if he lost her, his life would be worthless. If he didn't help her raise her baby, then he'd be missing out on more than he could imagine. His heart ached with a raw emptiness that only Jillie and her baby could fill.