Redwood Bend (Virgin River #18)(73)

“Fine!” he said almost angrily. “I’ll give it to you! You take care of it. Spread it around any way you want to!”

She stared at him for a long moment. “That’s very nice of you,” she said. Her eyes got glassy. “I don’t know how I can possibly thank you.”

And then she stood up and went into the house.

He sat there, stunned. He had absolutely no idea what he’d done wrong.

He noticed that quiet slowly replaced the noise of the TV inside the little cabin. He heard the shuffling of the boys down the stairs as she herded them into bed. And her bedroom door closed.

Dylan was devastated. He’d spent days trying to figure out how to make this right, how to reassure her he was in this with her all the way. He was a responsible man and he adored Katie. He was terrified to tell her that, of course—she might ask him to get married and then what would he do? He wanted to, but he wasn’t quite ready. He thought he might be in a little while, once he worked into the idea. Probably by the time he’d finished that movie and had the airline on track and the trust set up, he’d feel ready, but right now, the whole idea scared him. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel like it—it just meant he wanted to be ready. She was only about a month, maybe six weeks pregnant. There was time.

His dad had sent him a ten-thousand-dollar check on his tenth birthday because he’d promised to take him to Egypt and had gone alone, or more likely with a woman, leaving him behind. Ten thousand dollars to a ten-year-old. A kite and a day at the park would’ve meant so much more.

He remembered his grandmother had been furious about that.

Dylan asked himself, had he just done that? Could Katie think that money was to make her go away quietly? Because it wasn’t! He wanted to take care of her! Them! He wanted to never lose her, them.

I’ve been thinking about it, he remembered saying. If the girl I want comes with a couple of kids, I can deal with that.

He sat down on the sofa and pulled off his boots, his belt, his shirt. He went to her bedroom, tapped softly a couple of times and entered. She slid over as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He could barely see her face, so he ran a finger along her cheek to the curve of her chin. “If you’re crying, I’ll hate myself forever.”

“I’m not crying, Dylan.”

“Katie, you need to be married to a man who has some instincts about this whole situation. And I don’t have any. Just when I think I have the one idea that will solve most of our problems, it makes you sad.”

“It’s not instincts you’re lacking, Dyl. It’s experience. You grew up in a household of this one and that one. There was a different group for every holiday and if I’m guessing right, a lot of jockeying for position. It can’t have been real nurturing.” He just shook his head. “We don’t have to do that, Dylan.”

“Katie, you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever known. My feelings for you are…” He couldn’t quite finish. “Strong. You have no idea how strong. I want to never lose you. But…”

“I know,” she said. “We still don’t have to make a life of spare parts and separate people, like a group home or something. We can still be one family.”

“And if I don’t know how that’s done, exactly?”

She smiled at him and put a tender finger against his lips. “Here’s a thought. I could trust you to fly the planes and you could trust me to do the mothering. Those things that I don’t do very well, fortunately you do. And those things you struggle with?” She shrugged. “I happen to understand.”

When he just scowled, drawing his eyebrows tight, she asked, “What?”

“And if it doesn’t work out for us, for you and me? I want it to always be like it is right now, but if for some reason it isn’t? Like if you come to your senses?”

She laughed softly. “I will still raise my children as a group, as a family, no matter what you choose to do. Now why don’t you make sure the bedroom door is locked and come in here beside me, hold me for a while, do something you know you have a talent for.”

He stood up and chucked his jeans, slipping in beside her with a big grin on his face. “I think we’ve just stumbled on an area of mutual success.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Stop thinking so hard, Dylan. You’re wearing me out.”

Sixteen

Luke Riordan enjoyed a late-afternoon beer with Jack, something he treated himself to now and then. He occasionally took a break from tending his son and his cabins if his wife was at home. Shelby was a clinic nurse in Eureka and worked three ten-hour shifts every week, which left Luke to play househusband, including cooking. This was a good thing. Shelby liked to cook. She was miserable at it, but no one had the guts to tell her.

“You’re facing about three or four days of dinner by Shelby,” Jack teased.

“I might get her in here one of those days,” Luke said hopefully.

“I wish you luck. Are your cabins still booked?”

“Right up through fall. We have summer people—families and students and vacationers almost to hunting season, then we have hunters and fishermen through the holidays. Plus, a couple of my buddies are coming for a week this fall.”

“No kidding?” Jack asked. “And who might that be?”