Random House Publishing Group
Featuring: Pippa Grayhawk; Devon Flynn
ISBN: 0804178682 EAN: 9780804178686 Kindle: B00O6V69MW Mass Market Paperback / e-Book Add to Wish List
Ah, the feud lives on -- Greyhawks versus Flynns. Life is
good. Well, at least for the readers of this ongoing
series by Joan Johnston. The first Bitter Creek novel of
the King's Brats series was SINFUL, and it was
absolutely
sinfully delicious. I couldn't wait for the next
installment, and I am happy to report it was worth the
wait. SHAMELESS picks up the story that deals with
the years-old feud between two mighty neighboring
families: the Greyhawks and the Flynns.
I often think about whether or not to mention previous
books in a series, but in the case of the Kings
Brats I
truly feel it would be a shame to miss any. Start with
SINFUL, and then immediately
proceed to SHAMELESS. Each story can absolutely stand on
its own (in case you
were wondering), but it would be like accepting a
single scoop instead of a double.
SHAMELESS deals with the mistakes of youth, and in these
families there were plenty of lessons to be learned. Joan
Johnston quickly reminds us of past indiscretions, but as
the story unfolds she makes sure we learn the
repercussion of each and every misstep.
Matt Greyhawk returns home to Wyoming after a twenty year
absence. He doesn't go home empty handed. Matt leaves his
Australian ranch with his daughter Pippa and son Nathan
in tow to the last place he ever thought he'd see again.
Matt left home a young man determined to take on the
greatest responsibility of his life -- raising his infant
daughter. Now he has to make a personal sacrifice -- this
time to keep his unwed and pregnant Pippa safe from harsh
unfair criticism. Pippa is a victim of youth and bad
judgement.
Coming home was not without problems for Matt and his
children. His relationship with his father isn't gaining
ground with his return, and there is also the matter of
Kings' other children being less than welcoming. Pippa
can't
find her place in this new country and home. She is aware
that they are unwelcome and she winds up in a place that
feels safe -- a temporary respite. But the man who
welcomes Pippa is one of the Flynn brothers. Devon Flynn
shares many interests with Pippa. Both are animal lovers
and caretakers. Pippa wonders if Devon sees her as one of
his creatures that need saving.
Staying with Devon offers solace for Pippa but strains
their tentative friendship. Pippa is guarded about her
past, and without being honest with Devon, she fears losing
her one friend in Wyoming. And yet her reluctance to be
totally honest will surely cause the end of this
friendship.
SHAMELESS is an interesting title since there doesn't
seem to be anyone who fits that description. Joan
Johnston doesn't dwell on being ashamed but focuses on
possibilities. So SHAMELESS winds up being a lesson in
honesty for without it no relationship stands a chance.
In SHAMELESS, Joan Johnston reintroduces characters
remembered fondly and continues her tale starring the
members of two strong, stubborn families.
For readers of Linda Lael Miller and Susan Mallery
comes
New York Times bestselling author Joan
Johnston’s sizzling contemporary Western romance, where
power, money, and rivalries rule—and love
is the best revenge.
HER SHAMEFUL PAST MAKES HER AN OUTCAST—
UNTIL A LONE WOLF TAKES HER INTO HIS HOME.
Scorned, pregnant, and facing a life without promise,
Pippa
Grayhawk is stunned when her father
announces that they’re leaving their home in Australia to
take over his estranged father’s sprawling
Wyoming ranch. Drawn into bitter family rivalries and
feeling like an interloper in her new home,
Pippa rides out into the wilderness and meets an
intriguing
stranger and his pet wolf. The wolf doesn’t
scare her, but she’s very much afraid to trust another
man
with her heart.
Devon Flynn knows all about going it alone. He lives in
an
isolated cabin, away from his domineering
father and the scandal surrounding his family. Devon’s
attraction to Pippa is intoxicating and
undeniable, but when he tries to get close, she’s as wary
as his once-wild wolf. Devon is willing to defy
his father, and hers, to claim Pippa as his own, but
winning this wounded, wonderful woman’s love
might be the greatest battle of all.
Excerpt
Prologue
Pippa Grayhawk was the best horse whisperer in Australia.
She’d spent most of her nineteen years taming brumbies—
wild horses—on her father’s remote cattle station in the
Northern Territory.
She was so good with animals that the wildest stallion
was soon gentled and eating from her hand. But when it
came to men—or rather, one particular man—her instincts
had utterly failed her.
Pippa whimpered as she pressed a frigid bag of ice
against the painful bruise high on her cheek. She’d made
a terrible mistake, but one she would never make again. A
flush of shame heated her face. How gullible she’d been!
How naive! She gritted her teeth to still the quiver in
her chin. From now on, she would know better than to
trust. She would know better than to give her heart so
freely. No man was ever going to hurt her again.
Pippa’s heartbeat ratcheted up a notch when she heard a
knock on the door. No one knew where she was. Two days
ago, she’d run away from home with one of her father’s
wranglers, Tim Brandon. They’d checked into a hotel room
in Darwin, which was when Tim had shown his true colors.
Pippa stared at the door, wondering if it was Tim,
returning to apologize. He’d walked out in a huff an hour
ago—after slapping her hard enough to cause the bruise on
her cheek.
“How the hell did you get pregnant?” he’d ranted. “You
told me you were taking precautions.”
“I did,” she’d protested. “I was sick in the middle of
the month, remember? I couldn’t’t keep anything down. The
pills must have come back up with everything else. What
does it matter?” she’d said. “We’re going to be married
anyway.”
“No, we’re not.”
Pippa’s heart had nearly stopped at Tim’s announcement.
Before she’d given herself to him the first time, he’d
told her he loved her. He’d told her he couldn’t wait to
marry her so they could start a family together. Was he
really taking it all back? “What do you mean?”
Tim stuck his balled fists on his hips and shot her an
irritated look. “I can’t marry you, Pippa.”
“But you promised!” she cried, fearful and frantic at his
about-face. All the promises he’d made—that he loved her,
that he planned to take care of her for the rest of her
life, that he would be a wonderful husband, that they
would have a wonderful life together—had persuaded her to
give him her virginity. She’d waited to part with that
precious gift until she’d met the man she planned to
marry. She was having trouble wrapping her head around
the fact that she’d offered something priceless to
someone who’d trampled on it.
And she had no one to blame but herself.
Her father had warned her to stay away from his hired
hands. But Tim had been so friendly—and so good-looking—
that she’d spent more and more time seeing him behind her
father’s back. Being held in a man’s arms for the first
time had made her tremble. Kissing him had left her
breathless. She’d honestly believed that Tim cherished
her.
How could she have been so wrong?
She reached out her hands in supplication to the
inexplicably angry man standing across from her and said,
“I love you. You said you love me.”
Tim sneered. “You stupid little ninny. I told you what
you wanted to hear to get into your pants. There’s no way
I’m marrying you!”
“Why not?” she asked, confused and hurt and still
unwilling to believe that the man she loved could be so
cruel.
“Because I’m already married!”
Pippa’s heart had physically hurt, as though someone had
punched her in the chest. She thought she literally might
die from the humiliation of having been so completely
duped. “What about the baby?” she asked past the
excruciating lump in her throat.
“Give it away or throw it away. I don’t care.”
Enraged at how easily Tim had dismissed the child they’d
created, she lashed out at him with her palm. He easily
ducked so she missed his face, but his hand shot out and
caught her cheekbone, causing her to see stars.
Tears of pain sprang to her eyes, joining the tears of
distress that had already filled them to the brim. Pippa
sobbed as a tear spilled down her stinging cheek.
“Stop your whining! This was supposed to be a holiday. We
were supposed to have some good sex and some good grub
and that would be the end of it. Now I’m going to have to
quit my job and head home to my wife in Sydney, all
because you couldn’t take care of business.”
He’d stomped out, leaving her alone without a single
pence in her pocket. Likely he’d returned because he’d
realized that she had no money to pay for the hotel, or
even her next meal, let alone the trip home. She never
wanted to see Tim again, but better that than having to
call her father to ask for help.
Daddy is going to be so mad at me for running away. And
so disappointed when he finds out what a fool I’ve been.
How can I tell him I’m pregnant? It’s a good thing Tim is
running for the hills. Daddy would kill him.
Pippa had watched her father punish a wrangler when the
man brutalized one of the brumbies. The most terrifying
part was that, through it all, her father had never shown
any emotion. He’d just done what needed to be done to
make sure that that sort of behavior was never repeated.
Tim’s attack had caught her off guard because her father
had never lifted a hand to her or her six-year-old
brother, Nathan. He’d found other ways to discipline them
that were especially effective—like the silent treatment
her father employed when she failed to live up to his
very high standards of behavior.
Pippa set down the bag of ice and rose from the bed to
answer the persistent knock at the door. “I’m coming,
Tim!”
She opened the door and gasped in shock. She tried to
slam the door, but a large, booted foot caught the door
at the bottom and prevented it from closing.
“Go away!” she cried.
“Open the door, Pippa,” her father said. “We need to
talk.”
Pippa could see half of her father’s face through the
open door: one piercing blue eye, a hank of black hair
falling onto his forehead, an angry, flared nostril, and
half of a mouth flattened to a harsh, judgmental line.
She didn’t want to let him in, but there was no way to
keep him out. She took a step back, crossing her arms
defensively over her chest.
Just as half of his face had been hidden, half of hers
had been concealed. When her father stepped into the
room, she heard him draw a sharp breath and watched his
eyes narrow as he surveyed the bruise on her cheek. She
lowered her gaze to the floor, unable to look at him,
unable to bear the condemnation she was sure she would
see on his face.
A moment later he was standing in front of her, his voice
hoarse with emotion as he asked, “Are you all right?”
Pippa couldn’t get words past the thickness in her
throat, so she just nodded.
His fingertips hovered over the bruise, as though he
wished to soothe the hurt, but never touched her face. He
dropped his hand and said, “Let’s sit down.”
It was a good thing he’d suggested it, because Pippa’s
knees felt so weak she was afraid they would crumple, and
she’d land on the dingy carpet. She dropped onto the
cheap bedspread, her eyes on her white-knuckled hands,
which rested on her jean-clad knees. She felt the bed
sink as her father sat down beside her.
“Where’s Tim?” he asked.
“He left.”
“Is he coming back?”
Pippa was ashamed to admit the truth, but she forced
herself to say, “He’s gone back to his wife in Sydney.”
“Good riddance.”
Pippa frowned, because her father didn’t sound the least
bit surprised. “You knew he was married?”
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you say something to me?”
“I told you to stay away from him—from all of my
wranglers, in fact. That should have been enough.”
Pippa wanted to argue that a heads-up would have been
nice. But she remembered all the times she’d snuck out
behind her father’s back to see Tim. If she hadn’t been
so secretive, she might have saved herself a lot of
heartbreak.
“What happened is my fault,” her father said.
Pippa turned to stare at him.
“I should have sent you away to Sydney or Melbourne or
Brisbane for school, instead of keeping you with me. Then
you wouldn’t have fallen for whatever line of bullshit
Tim fed you. But .?.?.”
Pippa knew why he hadn’t. He would have been lonely
without her. She and Nathan were the only family he had.
Her mother had remained a mystery all her life, someone
her father refused to discuss.
She had only vague memories of her father’s first wife
and no idea why their marriage hadn’t stuck. His second
wife, Nathan’s mother, had left her father while Nathan
was still a baby, shrieking in a voice Pippa had heard
through the bedroom door, “I can’t stand to live in this
deserted backwater. There are no neighbors. There is no
culture. There is nothing here except those awful green
frogs and a thousand poisonous snakes and a million
flies.”
She hadn’t heard what her father replied. But she’d heard
the screamed response. “Keep the boy. I don’t care! Just
let me go. Please. If you ever loved me. Let me go!”
She’d left, and she hadn’t come back.
Her father had been sad for a long time afterward, but
he’d never said a word against Nathan’s mother. One
night, after Pippa had gone to bed but before she’d
fallen asleep, she’d heard a glass break in the kitchen.
She’d gotten up to make sure everything was all right.
When she reached the kitchen door, she saw that her
father was staggering, apparently drunk. And he had tears
on his cheeks.
She’d quickly stepped back so he wouldn’t see her,
putting a hand to her heart to keep it from pounding
right out of her chest. She’d never seen her father cry.
He was her rock. Always steady. Always dependable. He
rarely drank, and even then, rarely had more than a
single drink. It was terrifying to see him in such a
state.
Pippa had hesitated, unsure whether she should try to
comfort him or go away and let him grieve—
if that was what he was doing. While she stood there, he
began to mutter something, and she leaned closer, hoping
to hear some explanation for whatever disaster had
befallen them to cause such behavior.
Pippa would never forget the malevolence in her father’s
voice as she listened behind the kitchen door. She had
never imagined he could hate someone as much as he seemed
to hate his own father. She heard the agony in his voice
as he expressed his fear that he might be just like him.
She was amazed to learn that he’d run away from home. And
that he was never, ever, ever going back.
The fading sunlight hit the bruised side of her face
through the hotel window, and Pippa heard her father make
an angry sound in his throat. She turned her head away.
Matthew Grayhawk didn’t need any more villains to hate.
He had enough demons from his past to haunt him.
“Are you ready to go home?” her father asked.
“How can I go home? How can I ever hold my head up before
our friends and neighbors again?”
“You might think this is the end of the world, Pippa, but
it’s not. You’ll be fine.” His hand tenderly brushed
through her long blond hair, tucking a bit of it behind
her ear. “In a few weeks, or months, you’ll move past
this incident in your life. Someday, you’ll find a nice
young man in town who’ll love you for the extraordinary
person you are.”
His gentle voice brought tears to her eyes. He had no way
of knowing that in seven months she would have a lifelong
reminder of Tim. She had to tell him. There wasn’t going
to be any “nice young man.” Not when the small town of
Underhill got wind of the fact that she was unwed and
pregnant. Not to mention pregnant with a married man’s
child. She was going to have to leave her father’s cattle
station and go .?.?. where?
Pippa had been homeschooled, but the sole focus of her
life had been working with horses. She had no skills that
would serve her if she moved to the city. And she
couldn’t imagine any other cattle station accepting a
wrangler with a baby, even if she were the best at what
she did.
“No one has to know about this,” her father said. “We can
—”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
Her father let out a long, soughing sigh. “Have you
decided what you’re going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean whether you’re going to keep the baby?”
Pippa jumped up and turned to confront her father. “Of
course I’m going to keep my baby! What else would I do?”
“You could give it up for adoption.”
“And have it be raised by strangers?”
“There are a lot of couples out there who would love your
child as though it were their own. And you wouldn’t spend
the rest of your life paying for one mistake.”
Pippa couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She’d known her
father would be upset when she told him she was pregnant,
but she’d never imagined he would ask her to give up her
child. “I’m keeping my baby. And that’s that.”
“Underhill is a conservative town with strict morals. Are
you ready to face the scandal of being an unwed mother?
Forget the scandal. That will pass. Are you ready to be a
teenage mother? That responsibility will never end.”
“I’ll be twenty when the baby is born,” Pippa shot back.
He made a tsking sound of disgust. “You know what I mean.
This is the rest of your life, Pippa. Just be sure you
know what you’re doing. How are you going to feel about
raising Tim Brandon’s child?”
Pippa’s heart skipped a beat. She already felt an
abhorrence for her former lover that knew no bounds. What
if the baby was a boy and looked like Tim? Would she be
able to separate the child from its lying, cheating,
deceitful parent? Would she be able to love her baby when
she loathed its father?
Pippa shuddered. She would have to deal with that problem
if—or when—it arose. She only knew that she couldn’t
abandon her own flesh and blood.
She looked her father in the eye and said, “I’m keeping
this baby.”
He slapped his palms on his thighs as though the matter
were settled. “Fine. Let’s go home.”
Pippa eyed him warily. He hadn’t put up much of a fight,
but if he thought he could wear her down, he was wrong.
She would hold her head high and face the tabbies in
Underhill. She would defy them all. And she would prove
to her father that this baby was no “mistake.” She would
love her child despite its father. And she would do it
all in the town where she’d grown up.
She nodded to her father and said, “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 1
“We’re moving to America.”
Pippa stared at her father with wide, horrified eyes.
“Why? What’s happened?” You vowed you would never, ever
go back.
Her father’s face looked grim. “I’ve come to an
understanding with my father. He’s offered to give me the
ranch in Wyoming where I grew up.”
Pippa knew there was no way her father would be doing
this if it weren’t for her. Tim must have told some of
his mates that she was pregnant, because, even though her
pregnancy didn’t show, she’d been treated like a pariah
by everyone in Underhill since her return. Her father had
ended up thrashing someone who’d made a remark about her,
which had caused him to spend a night in jail. He’d said
it didn’t matter, that the lout had deserved what he’d
gotten.
A few days later, she’d been bombarded with rotten fruit
by a couple of teenage boys when she’d come out of the
grocer’s shop. Her defiance had wilted as she swiped at
the gooey stuff on her plaid shirt and brushed foul-
smelling muck off her jeans. She was sure if her father
could find the culprits, he’d wreak havoc again. And end
up in jail again.
There was no help for it. She was going to have to leave
Underhill. She’d just been waiting for the morning
sickness to pass so she could find a job somewhere in
Darwin—and for the right moment to tell her father that
she was going.
And then he’d made his grand announcement.
It was impossible to admit that she knew her father
didn’t want to return to Wyoming, because then she would
have to explain how she could possibly know such a thing.
She could never tell him that she’d seen him cry. Never
tell him that she knew he hated his father and had sworn
to stay as far away from King Grayhawk—and King’s ranch
in Wyoming—as possible.
“You don’t have to uproot your life and Nathan’s because
of me,” she said. “I can leave Underhill on my own.”
“I have my own reasons for returning home,” he replied.
“Such as?”
He cocked a brow. “My reasons are my business.”
Pippa was pretty sure his only reason for returning to a
place he’d hoped never to see again was to spare her any
more pain. “Daddy, please. You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s done. Start packing.”
That conversation had taken place a mere three weeks ago.
She and Nathan and their father were now settled in a
suite of rooms at her grandfather’s ranch in Jackson
Hole, where Pippa found herself in a situation that was
fraught with every bit as much tension as she’d faced
back home in Underhill.
Her father had neglected to mention that the ranch house
at Kingdom Come was already occupied by her grandfather
and his four youngest daughters. Or that King Grayhawk
was the richest man in Wyoming. Or that the ranch house,
built more than a hundred and fifty years ago, had been
expanded and modernized into a home so fantastic it had
been featured in several magazines.
More to the point, there had been no joyous homecoming,
no delighted welcome for the prodigal son. King
Grayhawk’s four grown daughters had greeted the invaders
with silence and glares.
Her father’s half sisters, Taylor, Victoria, and Eve, and
their half sister, Leah, bitterly resented
her father for laying claim to a ranch that was still
their home. Pippa had been appalled when she learned the
terms of the “deal” her father had made with King. All he
had to do was live for one year—three hundred and sixty-
five days—at Kingdom Come, and the ranch was his. Her
father hadn’t helped matters when he’d ordered the four
girls to find another place to live before the year was
out, telling them bluntly, “Once the ranch is mine,
you’re no longer welcome.”
No wonder King’s daughters hated them!
To say that Pippa felt like an interloper was the
understatement of the century. Entering the kitchen for
breakfast was like walking into a war zone.
The early-morning nausea—from a pregnancy she was
determined to keep a secret for as long as she could—
didn’t help matters. Pippa had decided that eating late
at night, when she was less likely to run into one of
them, or be sickened by the sight of food, made a lot
more sense.
Pippa was peering into the open refrigerator, trying to
find something on the shelves that looked appetizing,
when she heard a chair scrape behind her. She lifted her
head over the edge of the door and discovered the twins,
Taylor and Victoria, both wearing pajamas and robes,
perched on stools at the breakfast bar.
Her aunts weren’t identical twins. Taylor, tall and
full-figured, was take-your-breath-away beautiful.
Victoria had the same blond hair and blue eyes, but she
was more lithe and merely pretty in comparison with her
sister. Right now, both girls had a glint in their
sapphire eyes that boded no good for her.
“I guess she thinks she’s too good to eat with the rest
of us,” Victoria said to her sister.
Pippa ignored her, turning back to look at the leftovers
in the refrigerator. But her appetite was gone, and her
stomach was churning.
I will not be sick. I will not give them the
satisfaction. And I will not run away. This is my home
now, too.
But Pippa could understand their antagonism. She wouldn’t
have wanted a bunch of strangers making themselves at
home at her family’s cattle station in Underhill, either.
That is, if she still had a home there. The station had
been sold. There was no going back.
She chose a plastic bowl containing leftover fried
chicken, closed the refrigerator door, and turned to
confront the two young women, swallowing down the bile
spilling into the back of her throat. “I wasn’t hungry
earlier. I am now.”
She set the container on the counter and opened the
cupboard, looking for the saltine crackers that usually
settled her stomach. They weren’t there.
“If you’re looking for those Australian crackers you
brought with you, they’re gone,” Taylor said. “We had
tomato soup for lunch today—which you also missed—and ate
the last of them.”
Pippa didn’t so much mind sharing the last of her
Arnott’s Salada biscuits—an Australian version of
American saltine crackers—but the smug look on Taylor’s
face, and her vindictive tone of voice, rubbed her the
wrong way. She felt her stomach heave and realized she
was in no condition to start a fight. She needed a
cracker now, or she was going to embarrass herself by
throwing up. But the kitchen was huge, and she had no
idea where everything was kept.
“Since you’ve eaten the last of my crackers,” she said,
swallowing hard to keep her stomach from losing its
contents, “perhaps you can tell me where you keep yours.”
Victoria threw out an arm and said, “In the cupboard, of
course.”
Through gritted teeth, Pippa asked, “Which one?”
“What’s going on here?”
Pippa whirled and teetered dizzily, grabbing the counter
to steady herself.
Her father took one look at her, scowled at the two women
seated at the bar, and said, “I asked a question.”
Pippa didn’t want to be the cause of any more dissension
between her father and his sisters than already existed.
“I’m looking for some saltines,” she said. “Victoria was
going to point me in the right direction.” She met
Victoria’s gaze with a lifted brow that suggested
discretion in this situation was the better part of
valor.
Victoria ignored the suggestion, rising to confront
Pippa’s father. “Well, Matt, it’s like this. Taylor and I
were wondering why your precious daughter can’t be
bothered to eat with the rest of us.”
It felt odd to hear her father called by his first name.
Unfortunately, the attempt at familiarity did nothing to
soften her father’s response.
“When or where or how or what my daughter chooses to eat
is none of your damned business,” he retorted.
Pippa had one hand over her mouth and the other hand over
her unsettled stomach. She wanted to run from the room,
but it felt too much like giving up and giving in. She’d
promised herself she would never let anyone ride
roughshod over her again. She had to stand her ground.
Her father must have divined her problem, because he
started opening cupboards and slamming them closed until
he found a box of saltines. He yanked it out and pulled
it open, tearing into a sleeve of crackers so it spilled
across the counter.
Pippa grabbed for a saltine and began chewing, her back
to the two young women, letting the salt and soda
crackers do their work. She was focused on keeping her
stomach from erupting, but she could hear her father
arguing with his sisters.
“As far as I can see, you two have been living high on
the hog here with no responsibility for anyone or
anything. You’re twenty-eight. You should be out doing
something with your lives. On March 31st of next year,
Kingdom Come will be mine. Find yourselves another place
to live, because I have other plans for this ranch.”
“Like what?” Victoria asked.
Her father ignored the question. “And if I see you
bothering Pippa again, you’ll find yourselves out in the
cold a lot sooner than that.”
“You can’t kick us out!” Taylor shot back.
“Watch me.”
“Daddy will never let you do it,” Victoria said.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” her father threatened.
Pippa heard scraping chairs and then an ominous silence.
She concentrated on what turned out to be a futile
attempt to swallow the dry saltines. She gave up and
dropped a half-eaten saltine on the counter, searched for
and found a glass, and filled it with water. She took
careful sips, worried that her stomach wouldn’t tolerate
the liquid. She closed her eyes and leaned over the sink
until she was sure it would stay down, then took another
sip.
She’d been so focused on not vomiting that she didn’t
realize she and her father were alone until she heard him
say in a surprisingly gentle voice, “Are you all right,
Pippa?”
She opened her eyes and found him standing beside her.
She leaned her head against his chest and let his arms
close around her. “That was awful,” she said against his
shirt.
“They’re just spoiled rotten. I think the sooner they’re
out of this house and on their own, the sooner they’ll
grow up. I know how it is, because I’ve lived here with
King for a father. He’s worked his way through four
wives, who’ve given him eight children, including your
aunts’ half sister, Leah. None of those wives were around
long enough to become much of a mother to any of us.”
This was all new information to Pippa, who was astonished
at what she was hearing. Her father had never been
forthcoming about his family, and none of her aunts had
been friendly enough toward her during the three weeks
she’d been at Kingdom Come to encourage questions.
“King was far too busy to spend any time with me, either,
when I was growing up,” her father continued. “It doesn’t
look like things have changed much in the twenty years
since I’ve been gone.”
Pippa leaned back and looked at her father with wide,
assessing eyes. She quickly did the math and said, “You
left home at seventeen?”
He nodded.
Pippa blurted the next thought that came into her head.
“So my mother was an American?”
She felt her father’s body stiffen. He was silent so long
she thought he wasn’t going to answer. At last he said,
“Yes. She was.”
“Did she live here in Jackson Hole?”
He nodded.
Then it dawned on her that he’d used the past tense.
“What happened to her? Did she die?”
“She moved away.”
Pippa was trying to work out what might have happened to
her mother, but she didn’t have enough facts to make
sense of the situation. “It’s been twenty years since you
left home. I’m nineteen. Does that mean I was born here
in the States before you left home?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t my mother come with you to Australia?”
Pippa didn’t think she’d ever seen her father’s blue eyes
look so bleak.
“It’s a long story, Pippa.” He took a deep breath and let
it out. “Your mother and I were never married.”
“Oh.” Pippa’s active imagination went to work making up a
story from the information her father had revealed.
Obviously, her mother hadn’t wanted to keep her. That
thought caused a sharp ache in her chest. It was one more
reason to keep her child—so it would know it was
cherished.
Had her father had his heart broken when her mother
rejected him—and his daughter? Was that why his first
marriage hadn’t worked out, and why he’d waited so many
years to marry Nathan’s mother? Or had Pippa’s birth been
an “accident,” the result of sex with some stranger?
Maybe the reason her father had never spoken of her
mother was that he hadn’t known her well.
Pippa had questioned her father about her mother many
times as a child. His reaction had always been so
agitated, and his answer so brusque, that she’d stopped
asking. Since her mother hadn’t lived nearby, there was
no chance she was ever going to run into her, so she’d
let it drop.
But here she was in Wyoming, where her mother had come
from. Should she try to find her? Or just leave well
enough alone?
“Is your stomach feeling better?” her father asked.
Pippa managed a weak smile as she stepped back from his
embrace. “Yes.”
“I presume that’s why you haven’t been joining us for
meals.”
She nodded. “I’ve felt nauseated. Or I haven’t been
hungry.”
“If you want to keep this pregnancy a secret, I suggest
you do a better job of showing up at the table. I still
think you should—”
“Don’t say it, Daddy. Please.”
He shook his head in what she presumed was
disappointment, which she didn’t think was fair,
considering the startling new information that she was a
child born out of wedlock. But maybe he didn’t want her
to have to go through what he’d been through, trying to
raise a child on his own. She could still remember a time
when they’d moved around a lot, a time when she’d been
both cold and hungry. But that was all so far in the past
she’d almost forgotten about it.
It was hard to imagine why her father should have
struggled so much to survive when he was the son of such
a wealthy man. Which made Pippa wonder what King Grayhawk
had done to his son to make him run so far from home and
stay gone for so long.
She was here now, where her mother and father had met,
where her father had lived until he was seventeen, where
her grandfather still played lord of the manor, and where
she had four aunts who presumably knew some of the family
history her father had never shared. Before her child was
born, Pippa intended to have some answers.
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