Shameless (22 page)

“
S
O YOU WERE
going to say goodbye to the horse, but not to me?”

Pippa whirled at the sound of Devon's voice, spooking Sultan. The stallion took a sudden step back from the stall door, shaking his head and snorting, and Pippa turned back to soothe him. “It's all right, boy. Everything's fine.” She waited until the stallion closed the distance enough that she could run her hand down the side of his neck, and then opened her hand so he could gently take the cube of sugar she held there.

She pressed her cheek against the stallion's and rubbed his forehead murmuring, “No one's ever going to hurt you again. Your days of being afraid are over.”

They were words she needed to hear herself. But from the tone of Devon's voice when he'd entered the barn, she wasn't likely to hear them from him. She turned at last to face him.

He stood in the center of the barn, his hip canted, his hands stuck deep in his back pockets. His mouth was clamped tight, and a muscle worked in his jaw.

She felt shut out. Pushed away. Rejected.

But wasn't that exactly what she'd done to him? She'd snuck over here when she'd believed Devon would be gone, hoping to collect her things and leave without ever having to face him. She was ashamed of her behavior, but she could see she hadn't been wrong. Devon wasn't going to make this easy. This was the very scene she'd been hoping to avoid.

“I saw your luggage on the bed in the house. I take it you're heading to Texas to stay with your mother.”

“I am.”

“Were you really planning to leave without explaining…anything?”

“Like what?”

“Like why you lied to me about the baby.”

“I never lied,” she countered. “I just didn't tell you everything.”

“Including one pretty damned important thing!”

His eyes dropped to her belly, and Pippa laid a protective hand over the child growing in her womb.

“You should have told me you were pregnant. I got ambushed by my father—Angus, I mean—who relished telling me something I should have heard from you. There's no way I would have—”

“I know I should have told you about the baby before we had sex,” she admitted, cutting him off.

“Was that what it was to you? Sex?”

It had been far more. But she was leaving town with her mother, so what was the point of dwelling on a budding flower that had been snapped off before it ever had a chance to bloom? “You needed comfort. That was the way I chose to give it.”

He snorted, a sound showing displeasure not unlike Sultan's. “So the first chance you have to run, you're taking off like a scared rabbit.”

“That's not fair! It's my
mother.
I've wanted a mother all my life. I want to get to know her. Why shouldn't I spend time with her?”

“What about me?” His hands had come out of his back pockets and were bunched into fists at his sides.

She took a hitching breath and discovered that all the air seemed to have been sucked out of the barn. His gaze was so intense that she was tempted to take a step backward. She didn't know what to say. And regretted what came out of her mouth as soon as she said it. “I'll miss you, of course.”

“Of course.” He said it with sarcasm, with an angry sneer on his face. “What happens now, Pippa? Are you going to keep the kid? Are you going to raise it at your mother's ranch in Texas? Tell me. I'd like to know.”

“Yes, I'm going to keep my child,” she said, responding to his anger with anger of her own. “Why wouldn't I?”

“What if it's a boy? What if the kid looks just like that sonofabitch who took advantage of you?”

“Now you sound like my father.”

“I'm sure as hell not any relation to you. I think your father settled that! I'm not even sure I'm your friend anymore.”

Pippa felt as though he'd speared her in the heart. She felt wounded by his utter rejection of everything they'd shared. But she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who'd kept him in the dark. She was the one refusing to give an inch now. Why couldn't she tell him how she felt? Why couldn't she admit that her feelings for him went far deeper than friendship?

But if he was so anxious for her to stay, why didn't he ask her to stay? Why did she have to be the one to risk getting hurt? What if he was only angry because he'd been duped, and was actually relieved that he'd escaped getting caught in a pregnant woman's net.

“What's your plan when the kid turns out to look like that Tim guy?” he said. “I'd like to know.”

“Don't you think I've struggled with the knowledge that I hate Tim, and yet I'm going to have his child? That I'm scared I won't be able to love my baby if it looks anything like him? Nevertheless, I'm determined to give my child the very best life I can—which means being the very best mother I can be.”

“I notice there's no father in this picture you're painting.”

“Are you volunteering for the job?”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence before he said, “Nobody's offered me the job.”

If that was a cue for her to speak, Pippa missed it. Another silence ensued while she stared at him, her heart thundering in her chest, and he stared back, the knuckles of his bunched fists turning white.

At last she said, “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Goodbye, Pippa. Have a good life.” He turned and stalked from the barn, leaving her standing there alone. He stopped at the door and turned back to her. She thought he was going to speak, but he merely searched her features as though to imprint them, so he wouldn't forget how she looked.

Pippa's throat was swollen nearly closed, but she managed to say, “Hooroo.”

Then he was gone.

When she returned to the house to retrieve her luggage, he was nowhere to be found. Before she left, she dropped to her knees and hugged Wulf, who licked her face. As she walked away from the house, the lump in her throat was so huge it threatened to choke her. She realized she didn't want to go. As much as she'd always wanted a mother, she wanted Devon more.

But she couldn't stay where she wasn't wanted. He'd had his chances, and he'd let her go. He was the one who'd left the barn. Without hugging her goodbye. Without a single human touch to suggest that he'd ever wanted more from her than the brief friendship they'd shared.

Pippa swiped at the tears that fell on her cheeks and brushed at her eyes so she could see to drive. Her interlude in the Wyoming mountains was over. She had to move on with her life. She had a mother to get to know and a child to raise. And a whole life to live without Devon Flynn.

P
IPPA CRESTED A
rise in the Texas Hill Country on horseback and turned back to watch her mother canter her horse the short distance to join her. She surveyed the grassy valley dotted with mesquites and live oaks and said, “It's so beautiful here. I don't know how you can stand to leave.”

“Duty calls,” her mother replied. “I can do a lot to help folks if I'm in Washington.”

Pippa had been staying with her mother for a month, and during that time, her mum had frequently left the ranch for political fund-raisers and a myriad of meetings that were apparently necessary for her election to her husband's Senate seat.

“But you don't seem happy about it,” Pippa blurted.

Her mother looked startled, and then rueful. “I have to admit I was looking forward to all of this political maneuvering a lot more before I knew I was going to be a grandmother. I never realized what fun it would be to have a daughter.”

Pippa felt flattered until her mother added, “Or did I miss all the hard parts?”

Pippa laughed. “Only someone as good at being a mum as you are could believe this isn't one of the ‘hard parts.' ” She sobered and added, “It's been so nice having someone I can talk with. Someone who can help me sort out everything in my head.”

Her mother brushed away a strand of hair that had blown across Pippa's cheek and tucked it behind her ear in much the same way as her father had when she was a child. She'd noticed that her mother often found excuses to touch her, as though she couldn't quite believe that Pippa was real.

Pippa had been surprised at just how many things she and her mother had in common, even though they'd never laid eyes on each other until four weeks ago.

Neither of them could stand ketchup on their eggs, something her father loved. Neither of them liked pickles. Neither of them liked mayonnaise. They both loved horses and horseback riding. They both would rather wear jeans than a dress—even though her mother admitted that she'd spent her entire marriage to the senator without once donning a pair of Levi's in public.

And they both loved to read. Pippa had found that the way to the wide world outside her father's cattle station was through books. Her mother had used books to escape a life that she'd chosen but apparently hadn't enjoyed all that much.

“So is everything clear in your head now?” her mother asked, searching Pippa's face for the signs of distress that had been there when she'd first arrived in Texas. “Do you know what you want to do next?”

“Yes.” One word, but it had taken her the better part of the month she'd been with her mother to be able to say it. Part of her decision about the future involved moving back to Wyoming.

“You know you're welcome to stay with me as long as you like.”

Pippa nodded. She saw the yearning in her mother's eyes and recognized the restraint that kept her from saying that she never wanted Pippa to leave. Pippa might have stayed, except she'd realized that once her mother was elected—and she had no doubt she would be—and went off to Washington, she'd be all alone at the ranch. Despite her differences with her father, she missed him, and she missed her little brother. They were her family.

But they weren't the only ones she missed.

Devon had never left her thoughts. She regretted not admitting how much she cared for him, regretted diminishing the intimacy they'd shared. But apparently, he didn't feel the same way. He hadn't once called since she'd been gone, and she'd been too proud to ask her father about him when she'd spoken to him on the phone.

They'd brought lunch with them, and both women dismounted, loosened the cinches on their saddles, and then tied their horses on a line so they could munch grass, before retrieving the saddlebags that contained everything they needed for their picnic.

“You've never told me how you met and married Jonathan Hart,” Pippa said.

“There's not much to tell,” her mother said as she spread a blanket in the shade of a nearby live oak.

“I'd still like to hear about it.” Pippa dropped to her knees on the blanket, grateful for the shade from the hot Texas sun, which reminded her of summers in the Northern Territory. She began passing out food, one ham and cheese sandwich for her, one for her mother, one bag of potato chips for her, one for her mother, one chocolate chip cookie with pecans for her, one without nuts for her mother.

Her mother opened a can of soda for each of them and balanced them carefully on the uneven ground.

When Pippa had arrived in Texas, almost the first question she'd asked her mother was how her parents had met. She'd been delighted with the story. She'd cried when she heard how they'd been torn apart and how awful it had been for her mum when she'd supposedly lost her newborn daughter.

Pippa had the feeling that her mother had glossed over how painful those days had been. She'd been envious of the love it seemed her very young parents had shared, and she'd wondered if they could ever be reunited. It was another reason she was heading back to Wyoming. She was determined to get her father and mother back together…and see what happened.

Pippa was curious to know more about what had happened to her mother during the years her parents had been separated, how her mother had picked up the pieces and moved on after losing someone she cared about, because it was something she was struggling with herself.

Once they were settled and Pippa had taken her first bite, she said, “Will you tell me how you met Jonathan? How you fell in love? I really want to know.”

“I was attending the University of Texas in Austin, and Jonathan Hart was speaking on campus.”

“You were a student?”

“A graduate student,” her mother said. “I was one of the hostesses for a reception held after Jonathan's speech. He was a state representative at the time. We started talking at the reception, and he asked me to go for coffee afterward. We talked all night. I found him…fascinating. He had so many hopes and dreams for the future. He planned to run for the U.S. Senate when his term as state representative was up.”

Pippa was watching her mother closely, so she saw a wry smile come and go. “What was that smile about?”

Her mother met her gaze, and the wry smile reappeared. “He needed a wife to run for the Senate. It turned out that I fit the bill.”

“That doesn't sound very romantic.”

“He was charming. And handsome. And smart and funny. He was everything any woman could have asked for in a husband.”

Pippa frowned. “Except you didn't love him.”

Her mother didn't contradict her. Instead she said, “I admired him. I respected him.” She hesitated and then admitted, “I didn't think I could ever love anyone the way I'd loved your father. Marriage to a man with all of Jonathan's qualities seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“But if you didn't love him—”

“Why did I stay with him?”

Pippa nodded as she picked up her soda and took a drink.

“Life is all about compromises. We were good friends. We gave each other pleasure.” Her mother flushed at the admission. “Jonathan was faithful to me—as far as I know—and I was faithful to him. We made a good political team. Life was satisfying, with one exception.”

“What was that?”

“I never had any more children.”

Pippa decided to ask the question that came to mind, even though it might be a difficult for her mother to answer it. “Was it because you couldn't?”

She shook her head. “Jonathan didn't want children. It was the one thing we argued about. Divorce wasn't impossible—although it would have caused a few problems for Jonathan politically. Perhaps I could have found another husband who wanted children as much as I did. But I told myself I had a great deal to be thankful for in my marriage. And it isn't that easy to find someone like Jonathan. He was a very special man.”

“Except he didn't want children.” Pippa felt angry on her mother's behalf. “It sounds like you did all the giving, and he did all the taking.”

Her mother winced. “Perhaps I gave too much. But I wasn't unhappy. It was a better marriage than most.”

“Are you suggesting I should give up on love and make a practical marriage with someone who wants to be a father to my child?” Pippa asked bluntly.

Her mother looked troubled. “Is that what you got from the story of my marriage?”

What worried Pippa was the thought of her mother never falling in love again. Of her mother having settled for “a better marriage than most.” What if that was one of the ways she was like her mum? What if she never fell out of love with Devon? She couldn't imagine a life like the one her mother had described. It felt…empty.

Her mother deserved better than that. She deserved the life that had been stolen from her all those years ago. But that meant getting her parents back in the same place. Although they'd apparently spoken to each other at the hospital, Pippa hadn't seen them in each other's company even once before she left Wyoming. That didn't bode well for any sort of future together.

She'd actually broached the subject of a reconciliation to her father, but he'd said, “Let it go, Pippa.”

She glanced sideways at her mother. Maybe she'd been asking the wrong parent. “Have you thought about getting back together with Daddy?”

Her mother was startled into laughter. “What?”

“You said you never fell out of love with him.”

“My life is fine the way it is, Pippa. Besides, too much time has passed. Your father and I don't have much in common anymore.”

Pippa opened her mouth to argue further, but her mother said, “The subject is closed.”

Pippa had learned that there was more than one way to skin a cat. She would find a way somehow, someday, to get her parents back together. That is, after she fixed her own life.

“When are you leaving?” her mother asked as she began gathering up plastic wrap and napkins.

“Soon,” Pippa said.

“I love you, sweetheart. I've loved having you here.”

Pippa grinned and scooted over to hug her mother. “Good. Because I'll be here a couple more weeks.”

She needed more time to plan. More time to figure out how she could make her life—and her parents' lives?—turn out happily ever after.