Stories of family and romance beneath the Big Sky!

“All right, Jilly.

That kiss scared the hell out of me.”

She stepped away from the table and crossed her arms, eyes tempting him like two Hershey’s kisses. “No one knows you like I do, Jeff. I understand your love of flying, your need for freedom. And even if I were crazy in love with you, I wouldn’t expect anything from you, other than friendship.”

That was good, wasn’t it?

Before he could respond, she added, “I hope you won’t allow that kiss—as hot as it was—to ruin what we have. I’d like to keep you in my life.”

“I’ve forgotten it already,” he lied. Then he gave her a hug to prove he wasn’t going to let the kiss affect him.

Trouble was, it already had.

Far more than he was willing to admit.

Big Sky Baby

Judy Duarte

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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JUDY DUARTE

always knew there was a book inside her, but since English was her least-favorite subject in school, she never considered herself a writer. An avid reader who enjoys a happy ending, Judy couldn’t shake the dream of creating a book of her own.

Her dream became a reality in March of 2002, when Silhouette Special Edition released her first book, Cowboy Courage. Since then, she has published more than twenty novels. Her stories have touched the hearts of readers around the world. And in July of 2005, Judy won the prestigious Readers’ Choice Award for The Rich Man’s Son.

Judy makes her home near the beach in Southern California. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she’s spending time with her somewhat enormous but delightfully close family.

To Don Ham and Duke Dunn, my pilot connections. You have no idea how much I appreciate the time you spent with me, answering questions, offering technical advice and looking over scenes.

And to Joe Trapp, whose wife, Jessica, thrust a phone in his hand and said, “Honey, talk to my friend.” Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

This book is for you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Jeff Forsythe was back in town.

All right, Jilly Davis thought, maybe temporarily, but he was home just the same. And it was a darn good thing, because she could really use a friend in the flesh right now, not to mention a hug.

When Jeff left to join the forestry service five years ago, Jilly had felt somewhat abandoned. But unlike every other male she’d known, he’d called her every week, insisting on maintaining their friendship.

Jilly scanned the green, woodsy interior of the florist shop Jeff had loaned her the money to buy. She hoped he liked what she’d done to the place, especially the window display that changed every couple of days.

She’d gotten a deal on Gerber daisies this week, and using pots of the pastel-hued flowers and a quaint cast-iron bench, she’d created a parklike setting to catch the eyes of the locals who passed by.

Jeff had always said she was artistic, and apparently he’d been right. Jilly’s Lilies was a blooming success.

Imagine that. The scruffy little Davis girl from the wrong side of the tracks was now a genuine member of the Rumor Chamber of Commerce—and a homeowner to boot. That was quite a feat for someone like her to accomplish, especially at the ripe old age of twenty-three.

Who would have guessed?

No one but Jeff Forsythe, that’s for sure.

What made their mismatched friendship even more surprising was the fact that he’d been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth.

Jeff often referred to himself as a shirttail relative of the MonMart Kingsleys, but the shirttail had been made of the finest imported silk.

His socialite mother had been Carolyn Kingsley’s younger sister, and when she died in a fiery car accident, six-year-old Jeff was sent to live with his aunt and uncle on the Kingsley ranch.

Jeff was a very wealthy man by virtue of his mother’s money alone. The Kingsley riches only added to his considerable worth. But you’d never know it by looking at him. Jeff was one of the most unassuming guys Jilly had ever met.

More times than she could count, Jeff had ventured over to her run-down, trashy side of the tracks, something that had caused his wealthy, straitlaced Aunt Carolyn a great deal of worry. Still, the social icon of Rumor hadn’t been able to discourage their friendship. Nor had the passing of time.

Jilly hadn’t seen Jeff in five years, but she doubted he’d changed much. Tall, lanky. Dark hair, nice, but serious smile. He was the one constant force in her life.

And her very best friend.

She’d missed him something fierce when he left town, but their friendship continued to flourish over the telephone and through a jillion e-mails.

Who needed Dear Abby when a girl had her very own Jeff Forsythe to keep her in line, to listen to her problems, to encourage her hopes and dreams?

Jilly had a penchant for getting herself into one jam or another, and Jeff’s friendship had proven to be an invaluable asset. She had a feeling he actually liked coming to her rescue, although he probably wouldn’t admit it. Either way, the years had only deepened their relationship.

Each time the bell on the florist shop door rang, she glanced up from her work, hoping to see her old friend. At a quarter to five the bell chimed again, and this time her glance was rewarded.

Only it wasn’t the gangly kid she remembered who stood in the doorway of her shop. It was a tall, dark-haired god of epic proportions—a sight worthy of a gasp, a second glance or an all-out gaping stare.

Lanky Jeff Forsythe had filled out, grown up and aged to perfection. When he removed his aviator glasses, eyes the color of the Montana sky locked on hers, piercing her heart and sending a swarm of bewildered butterflies to her tummy.

If Jeff hadn’t grown used to feminine appreciation, he’d better.

His smile broadened, revealing a set of dashing dimples. “Hey, good-lookin’. Where can I find the owner of this establishment?”

“You found her, flyboy.” Jilly hoped he hadn’t seen or sensed her reaction to the sight of him.

Sheesh. Talk about buff and good-looking. If he weren’t her best friend, she might find herself gawking at him. Heck, she was gawking at him.

Get a grip, Jilly told herself. It’s only Jeff.

“I hope you stopped by to give me a hug,” she said, trying desperately to thwart a runaway sexual attraction to her friend.

That’s right. Her friend.

“It’s good to see you, Jilly.” His deep voice settled around her, cloaking her in crushed velvet and causing her heart to slip a gear before jetting into overdrive.

She dropped a sprig of greenery on the table and dashed into his arms, eager to feel his familiar embrace.

He lifted her from the floor as though she were merely a rag doll, and a musky, woodsy scent accosted her. She struggled to act nonchalant, unaffected by his touch.

Who was this gorgeous guy? And what had he done with her best friend?

“I missed you,” she said, although she hadn’t realized how much until he’d walked in the door. “Maybe I should hang on tight so you can’t get away.”

Jeff held Jilly close, savoring the earthy scent of flowers and spice. It had been too damn long since he’d seen the little brown-haired girl with the chipped-tooth smile.

He’d missed her, too.

When he left Rumor five years ago, he had no intention of coming back, other than for visits. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his family and friends, but he’d been born with a case of wanderlust and an intrinsic love of flying. By the time he was sixteen, when he’d taken control of his very first plane, a yellow Piper Cub, his course had been set.

“It’s good to have you home,” she said.

“I’m not home. Not really.”

They both knew it was the fire that began near Rumor and continued to rage in the Custer National Forest that had called him back to town indefinitely.

As part of the Modular Airborne Firefighting System, or MAFFS, Jeff had been ordered to report to the fire command center before dawn tomorrow, but he made time for a quick detour by Jilly’s Lilies to see his old friend.

God, he’d missed her. Missed her smile, her happy laugh. Missed the tales of her adventures or—more often than not—her misadventures.

Looking out for her had been a job he’d accepted a long time ago, and after five years of hearing her voice and reading her e-mails, he enjoyed holding her close.

In fact, he was enjoying it way too much.

Before she pummeled his back with her fist, begged to be put down and asked if he’d gone stark-raving nuts, Jeff released his hold and set her feet upon the floor.

He hoped she didn’t suspect he’d found the hug far more stimulating than was appropriate, but for some reason she felt good in his arms. Damn good.

As Jilly stood before him, wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans—nothing fancy—he couldn’t help but stare. She wasn’t the same skinny kid he’d remembered. She’d grown up and filled out in an alluring, womanly way.

Her brown eyes glimmered like a pool of melted chocolate, drawing him deep into her gaze. He seemed to flounder there for a while.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

Hell, he didn’t really know. Or maybe he did and wasn’t ready to face the truth. “You’ve changed.”

“So have you.” Her mouth quirked into a silly grin, but he couldn’t seem to find any humor in the bodily reaction that stirred his hormones and heated his blood.

The girl he remembered was gone, replaced by a woman with an earthy sex appeal he’d never noticed. No wonder Cain Kincaid—the horn dog of the fire department—had chased after her, nose sniffing and tail wagging.

Jilly batted his arm. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Something was the matter, but he wasn’t sure what.

Had her breasts always been that…full? Or maybe it was just the form-fitting shirt she wore. His gaze traveled down to the jeans that hugged her hips, then he caught himself.

For cripe’s sake, Jilly was his best friend, not some woman he was trying to hit on.

She brushed a hand across her cheek, pushing aside a silky strand of honey-brown hair, and smiled at him in a shy sort of way.

He supposed she was feeling a bit awkward, like he was, which was odd. They’d always been comfortable with each other, like a brother and sister who enjoyed being together, in spite of occasional squabbles.

“Are you hungry?”

Chocolate-brown eyes. Honey-colored hair. His appetite had been stirred, that was for sure, but she was talking about food. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I suppose so. What do you have in mind?”

“I put a roast in the Crock-Pot at home. If you give me a minute to lock up, we can go to my place and catch up on things.”

His aunt and uncle would probably shoot him if they found out he’d stopped by Jilly’s before going out to the ranch. Of course, they’d given up on lecturing him ages ago, after that visit to the shrink in Billings.

Jeff couldn’t remember the good doctor’s name, but the guy had told his aunt to ease up on him. And she had, especially where Jilly was concerned.

“A home-cooked meal sounds good,” Jeff said. “Besides, I’d like to see your house.”

“I thought you would.” Jilly offered him a smile, then grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, sending a burst of heat pulsing through his blood. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Yeah. Let’s.

They took separate cars, since Jeff couldn’t stay long. But he was looking forward to seeing the little house on Lost Lane he’d encouraged her to buy. It was a fixer-upper in the better part of town, and Jeff had known it would increase in value with a little paint, some elbow grease and Jilly’s artistic knack.

Jilly arrived first, opened the door, then dashed inside, while Jeff lagged behind.

The faint scent of ash and smoke laced the air, reminding him of the destruction the fire had ravished on the forestlands outside of town, the job he had to do tomorrow. He’d often flown out with MAFFS, fighting a number of devastating blazes, but he had a personal stake in this one, since it was so close to Rumor.

He’d no more than stepped into a spacious living room that needed more furniture, when a bark sounded and a scruffy blur raced into view like a miniature tornado.

“Look, Posey. We’ve got company.” Jilly stooped to pick up the small, scruffy dog. Well, it sounded like a dog, but it looked more like an automated dust mop minus the stick.

Jeff laughed. “Where did you find that thing?”

“That thing?” She lifted a brow and frowned. “You’ll hurt her feelings. This is Posey, the best friend I’ve got. Other than you, of course.”

The ugly little dust mop wiggled in her arms, licking her face.

She always did like strays—dogs, cats, a guy like Cain Kincaid, whose sole purpose in life was to jump the bones of every woman in the county.

“What do you think?” she asked.

About what? The fact she’d finally listened to his repeated advice and dumped Cain a couple of months ago?

“I’ve still got a lot to do, but the house is coming together.”

Jeff scanned the mint-green living room, noting the faint smell of fresh paint. She’d decorated the windows with lacy curtains he suspected were handmade.

A floral sofa and a beige easy chair completed the sparse furnishings, but he figured she could pick up additional furniture later, one piece at a time.

He shot her an appreciative smile. “It looks good, Jilly.”

Having a real home had always been a dream of hers, and he was glad he’d had a small hand in helping her buy her own place. “Now all you need is the porch swing and that little picket fence you’ve always talked about.”

“Thanks.” She put the squirmy dust mop on the floor, then offered him that chipped-tooth smile he found so endearing. It was, after all, her badge of courage.

On Jeff’s first day at Rumor Elementary, Cain Kincaid had taunted him for being the new kid in their first-grade class. Things might not have escalated, had the school bully, along with a third-grade crony, joined in, cornering Jeff behind the handball court.

Only six years old, and clearly outnumbered, Jeff had doubled up his fists, ready to defend himself to the death. But from out of the blue, a scrawny, brown-haired girl came to his rescue, butting the bully from the side and sending them all flying toward the concrete backboard. Thank goodness a teacher intervened, but not before Jilly earned her battle scar—a chipped front tooth. From then on, each time she smiled, Jeff was reminded of her bravery.

They became friends that day, and their friendship had endured through the years.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said.

“Yeah, well, under the circumstances, I’m not really back. Once that fire is contained, I’ll be gone.”

“You’re here now.” She flashed him a smile. “Let’s enjoy our time together.”

He intended to, even though things had grown a bit weird between them.

Since they’d been apart and since she’d revealed a few details about her relationship with Cain, Jeff had started to feel something, although he wasn’t sure what.

At times it seemed a lot like jealousy. He shrugged it off, though, determined not to consider the possibility of romance—temporary or otherwise. Jilly needed someone who would make a home with her in Rumor, someone who wasn’t a freedom-loving pilot married to his job.

Besides, Jeff lived in Colorado, close to his MAFFS outfit. He thrived on being on call, on taking off at a moment’s notice. And he loved the excitement, the danger.

There couldn’t possibly be a fate worse than being grounded in Rumor for good, pushing a lawn mower and living vicariously by television on Saturday nights.

Jeff was a free spirit. And he had no intention of having his wings clipped—by anyone.

An hour later Jilly and Jeff sat at the scarred oak dining room table she’d picked up at the thrift store in Whitehorn. A vase of yesterday’s tulips and white tapered candles in brass candlesticks graced the worn but clean linen tablecloth.

She would have offered him a glass of wine, but knew he was a real stickler for flight regulations and safety. So she didn’t bother to ask and gave him iced tea instead.

They dined on roast beef, red potatoes and baby carrots. All the while, Posey sat near the table, waiting patiently for someone to have pity and toss her a treat. Strange as it may sound, Jilly understood how the little mutt felt.

As a kid, she’d often waited for a scrap of affection, a kind word, a warm smile.

Of course, things had changed once her mother died and Jilly moved out of the run-down house she’d grown up in.

“Aren’t you going to put that dog outside?” Jeff asked.

“Nope.” She tossed her two-legged friend a crooked smile. “Posey lives indoors.”

Jeff merely shook his head and went back to eating. When he wasn’t looking, she slipped her furry pal a chunk of meat.

Both her friends seemed pleased with the taste of her culinary efforts and chomped away. She wished she could take more credit for the meal, but she’d merely dumped everything in a Crock-Pot this morning and let the handy-dandy appliance do the rest.

Jilly picked at her food. Although hungry, she was struggling with a diet that wasn’t working. She’d gained weight lately.

As Jeff buttered a piece of bread, she discreetly unsnapped her jeans to give her waistline some relief. It seemed that most of her weight had settled in the stomach, bloating her tummy. Her energy level had dipped, big-time, causing her to want a midday nap.

And a few other things had been bothering her, too, like a nervous stomach that seemed to be much worse than ever before. Of course, she blamed that on her recent breakup with Cain, but just to be on the safe side, she’d scheduled an appointment at the Rumor Family Clinic on Monday afternoon.

Chances were her weird complaints were nothing but residual stress caused by that lousy relationship she’d finally ended.

When would she learn how to sort through men and choose one worth keeping?

Jeff looked up from his meal. “This is really good, Jilly. You’ve become a great cook.”

“Thanks.”

When she glanced up and caught him looking at her with those big-sky eyes, something passed between them, and the air grew heavy, laden with unspoken words and thoughts.

Jilly didn’t know what was tumbling around in Jeff’s mind, but she suspected it was some of the same confusion that plagued her. The friendship she’d come to depend upon had changed.

She and Jeff had shared a lot of meals in the past—pizza, a burger and fries. But boy, oh, boy, things were different this time. Much different.

Maybe they were both a little uneasy with their new…their new what?

Awareness?

Attraction?

Darned if she knew what was happening, but this whole surreal evening reminded her of the movie, When Harry Met Sally.

Was this what Harry meant when he said men and women couldn’t be friends because sex got in the way?

Well, she wasn’t about to let awkwardness rain on their reunion. Friendships like the one they shared came along once in a lifetime, and she wasn’t going to risk losing the one-and-only stable element in her life.

Jeff pushed his chair from the table and slowly stood, breaking the tension that hovered around them. “I’d better go. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

Jilly nodded. “I understand.”

“But I’ll help you with the dishes.”

“Don’t bother,” Jilly said, fighting a grin. “Posey will help me clean up.”

Jeff furrowed his brow and studied her as though he suspected she planned to let the dog lick the plates clean.

The naughty side of her wanted to let him believe she was serious, but her conscience wouldn’t let her tease him tonight. Not when he had to fly out tomorrow morning and fight that fire. The danger of his job was never far from her mind.

“I’m joking, flyboy. Posey just keeps me company.”

He grabbed her by the hand and drew her to his side. “I can take a joke as well as the next guy, but I never know what you’ll come up with next.”

She laughed. “Well, if you’re leaving, you’d better give me a hug.”

“I’ve always got a hug for my best friend.” He pulled her close, sending her pulse racing and her imagination soaring. And when he brushed a goodbye kiss across her cheek, her breath caught and her heart spun like a little toy top with nowhere to move.

The men in her life had always let her down, but not Jeff Forsythe, the best friend she’d ever had.

Yet, in spite of herself, she had begun to look at Jeff in a new and sensual light.

And it left her terribly uneasy.

Especially when she knew her best friend had no intention of putting down roots in Rumor.

Chapter Two

Jilly sat in the waiting room at the Rumor Family Clinic, listening for her name to be called.

The wind had shifted that afternoon, taking the scent of smoke and the haze of ash with it and giving the Rumor community another respite from the fire that continued to blaze and darken the southern sky. It seemed a waste of time to be indoors on a day like this.

Afternoon sunlight poured into the room through two huge bay windows, casting a bright and cheerful glow on all who waited patiently, yet Jilly felt tense and fidgety.

She glanced at her watch—4:08 p.m.

Hopefully, they’d get her in and out so she could go back to work. She’d purposely scheduled the time so Blake Cameron, the teenager she’d hired as part-time help, could watch the florist shop for her.

She glanced at her watch again—4:09 p.m. Maybe she should cancel the appointment and head back to work, but she was hoping Dr. Holmes could tell her those weird symptoms she’d been having and those strange sensations she’d been feeling were all in her head.

The door to the back offices opened, and a dark-haired, matronly nurse held a file close to her chest and stood in the doorway. “Jilly Davis?”

Too late to cancel now, she supposed. After placing the magazine she’d been reading on the table, she stood and followed the nurse down the hall that led to the examining rooms.

“Will you step on the scale, please?”

“Sure. Mind if I slip off my shoes first?” she asked. Maybe take off my watch and my ring, shave my legs?

Sheesh. Jilly knew her weight was up. She couldn’t button her pants anymore and even her bras were snug. She’d tried to diet, but every time she turned around, she had the nervous munchies. She’d blamed her food cravings on stress, following her breakup with Cain.

“Not too bad,” the heavyset nurse said. “Only five pounds up from last winter, when you came in for your yearly pap smear.”

“Five pounds a year can add up,” Jilly said. “I’m not happy about the weight gain, since most of it’s in my torso. I’m feeling a lot like Humpty-Dumpty.”

The nurse smiled. “I know what you mean.”

Jilly supposed the plump woman did. As she was led to the small examining room, she did a little math.

Wow. If she gained five pounds a year, by the time she was thirty-three, she’d be fifty pounds over-weight. This eating spree had to stop.

When they reached exam room three, Jilly expected to have to strip down and put on the stupid gown that opened down the back. Fortunately, she wasn’t asked to undress.

As she sat on the edge of the paper-lined examining table, the nurse took her blood pressure. At least that wasn’t up.

While the woman made notes on the chart, Jilly unhooked the button on her pants and rubbed the reddened indenture the waistband had made. Gosh, she hoped it wasn’t a tumor or something like that. Maybe she was just getting fat and sassy and needed to take up jogging.

“Dr. Holmes will be right with you,” the woman said, leaving Jilly to wait in the stark room and worry about her health.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. Dr. Holmes, a tall, pretty woman with golden-brown hair entered the exam room, holding Jilly’s chart. “Good afternoon. What seems to be the trouble?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Jilly said, “but I’ve been feeling kind of weird lately.”

“How so?” the doctor asked.

“I’ve been tired. And I’ve gained weight. My breasts have been swollen and tender, although they’re feeling better now. A while back, I had some intestinal flu symptoms. At the time, I didn’t worry much about it because I tend to get a nervous stomach, and I’d been going through a stressful period back then.” Jilly shrugged. “Like I said, it’s probably nothing.”

“When was your last period?”

Huh? Her last period? Well, she wasn’t really sure. She tried to conjure a mental calendar to no avail.

“About a month ago, I think. It was pretty light.” She looked at the doctor, hoping the woman would understand why she had never bothered to count the days. “My periods are really irregular. Sometimes they’re kind of light and scanty, other times heavy. I guess I should keep better track of them, but since they’re so hard to predict, it doesn’t seem to matter.”

“Could you be pregnant?”

“Pregnant?” Jilly nearly fell off the examining table. “I don’t think so.”

She and Cain had broken up two months ago. And they’d always used condoms. In fact, she’d been so careful and obsessive about contraception that she couldn’t possibly be pregnant.

Just the thought of being an unwed mother scared the willies out of her.

Not that she didn’t want a baby, but she had her life on track right now, and she was aiming toward pillar-of-the-community status. Having a baby out of wedlock would set her back big-time—back to the Davis family values she’d tried hard to break free of and surpass.

“It’s possible to be pregnant and still have a scanty period,” Dr. Holmes said. “I’ll step out of the room while you undress. Then, after I examine you, I’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.”

A few minutes later Jilly lay on the small table, her feet in the stirrups and her head spinning wildly. I can’t be pregnant. I just can’t.

Stress altered menstrual cycles, too, she reminded herself. And Cain had certainly caused her a ton of stress. This all seemed to be his fault.

Of course, it was her fault, too.

Why couldn’t she be attracted to a decent guy, one who could make a commitment and be a family man?

“Well,” Dr. Holmes said, letting out a soft sigh and smiling. “You’re definitely pregnant. About four months, according to my estimate. I’m going to order some lab work, and an ultrasound.”

Four months pregnant? It was nearly too much for Jilly to take in.

But she could add. And that meant in five months she was going to be a mother.

An unwed mother.

Her heart sank. There went all her plans and dreams. She wanted nothing more than to be a wife and mother, to have the respectability her parents hadn’t been able to provide her. But that plan required marriage first, then a baby.

Again, she had the overwhelming urge to lash out and blame a certain good-looking fireman. Her life had been all nice and tidy until sweet-talkin’ Cain came sauntering into her shop and turned her world upside down. And now she was having his baby.

She doubted he’d be happy to hear the news, especially since he’d made it clear that he didn’t particularly like kids. The whole darn mess seemed to crash down upon her, until she came up with an option she hadn’t realized she had.

Maybe Cain didn’t need to know about the baby.

She could keep the paternity of her baby a secret, and if Cain suspected the child was his, he wouldn’t utter a word. Not if it meant he’d be liable for child support. A footloose guy like that didn’t want any strings to tie him down. Or so he’d made it clear the one time she’d pressed him for a commitment.

“I’m not the marrying kind, babe,” Cain had said.

Well, that was fine with her. Jilly couldn’t imagine being married to a lying womanizer like him.

She glanced at Dr. Holmes, wondering if she had any advice or a magical potion to make Jilly’s life fall into place.

“I’d like you to start taking prenatal vitamins.” The doctor pulled a notepad out of the pocket of her lab coat and began to write. “I’ll jot down the name of the brand I’d prefer you buy. The sooner you start taking them the better.”

“All right,” Jilly said, taking the sheet of paper the doctor handed her. She was glad to have a note, something in writing, otherwise, she might forget the brand altogether.

“Do you have any questions or concerns?”

Questions or concerns? Heck, she had a ton of them, but they slipped around inside her head like the spinning fruit and numbers on a slot machine, and she had no idea which question would pop out first.

“I’m scared, Dr. Holmes. And confused. I don’t even know…” Tears welled up in her eyes, and her tongue turned to mush.

The doctor snatched a tissue from the countertop, handed it to Jilly and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Why don’t you make an appointment to come back in and see me later this week, when you’ve had a chance to think about things. We can talk about options.”

“Options?”

“Well, you don’t have to keep the baby.”

Give her baby up?

No way.

Jilly didn’t need to hear any options. Her pregnancy might be totally unplanned, but this was her baby. It wasn’t the poor kid’s fault its mommy made a big mistake in the daddy-picking process.

“I don’t need to think about options, Doctor, but I would like to talk to you about…stuff.” Jilly swiped the tissue under her eyes. It was times like this that she really missed having a mother, although she hadn’t been able to depend upon her mom when she’d been alive. But the fact was, Jilly didn’t have anyone, not a sister or even a real girlfriend—the kind that kept secrets and didn’t blab them all over town. “I don’t have a clue what to expect. And I’m nervous.”

“I can understand that.” Dr. Holmes smiled. “I’ll have to check the schedule, but I think Friday afternoon is open.”

“Thanks,” Jilly muttered.

“Do you have someone you can talk to? A mother or sister? A friend?”

“Yeah, sort of.” She had a friend, all right. Only this had to be the heaviest problem she’d ever dumped on him.

“Feel free to call me anytime,” the doctor said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

Now all Jilly needed to do was convince her self that she could handle this unplanned turn of events.

Jilly carried her secret for two days before she gave in to the urge to contact Jeff.

Who else could she turn to? Certainly not Cain. Jeff had always been there for her, even when he and MAFFS were out fighting fires. She figured e-mail would be her best bet, especially if she tried to reach him through his business address.

Her only other resort was to call Reed Kingsley, Jeff’s cousin. But Reed was the Rumor fire chief and Cain’s boss.

Quite frankly, she didn’t want to go that route.

In the past, Jeff had always managed to answer her e-mail. Eventually.

Hey, flyboy, she typed into the computer screen. He’d earned the nickname by dragging her out to every airport in the county to look at planes and talk to the air junkies who hung out there. Can you give me a call when you get a chance? I need to talk to you.

It was another day and evening before Jeff read her e-mail and got a chance to use his cell phone.

“What’s up, Jilly?”

When she heard his voice over the line, for the first time in her life, she found it hard to speak. She carried the portable phone to the sofa and plopped down.

Posey, having followed her around for days and sensing her distress, hopped up to join her.

“Are you there?” Jeff asked.

Yeah, she was here. Pregnant and struggling with how to form the words. She cleared her voice and forced herself to speak. “I need a friend.”

The simple phrase had become a code between them, letting him know she’d screwed something up in her life and needed him to bail her out.

And she’d certainly “screwed things up” this time. She rolled her eyes at the apt description.

“Jilly, I’m a bit tied up right now, but I’ll do what I can. What’s wrong?”

She squeezed the receiver until her knuckles ached. How could she tell Jeff that she was pregnant by the guy he’d repeatedly warned her about? The guy he’d never liked since grade school. The guy she should have known to avoid from day one.

Well, she certainly couldn’t keep Jeff hanging on the line, not when he was probably calling from the command post at the fire.

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” Static crackled on the line, but she had a feeling he would have voiced the same question had he been standing next to her.

I’m what? had been her initial reaction, too. It still was. Lord, would she ever get used to the idea of being pregnant?

She blew out a weary sigh. “I really don’t know how it happened, or how I failed to notice the signs. But I’m four months pregnant, Jeff.”

The line froze, or so it seemed. Not even the static responded, which led her to wonder if he’d hung up. She shook off the old insecurity. Jeff wouldn’t do that to her.

“Have you told Cain?”

Heck no, she hadn’t called that jerk. What did Cain have to offer her? More lies? More stress?

She needed a friend, someone she could depend on. She needed Jeff, like she never had before.

Jilly had never been one to wade into deep psychological waters, but Jeff was a stabilizing force in her life, and his sobering influence curtailed the rebellious streak that often got her into trouble.

And she was in big trouble now.

“I’m not going to tell Cain anything,” she said. “Even if he was inclined to offer marriage or a hand in child rearing, I’ve learned my lesson. He’s not daddy or husband material. I’m going to go through this alone.”

“Now, just a minute. That guy has a responsibility to live up to, even if it’s just sending you a monthly check for child support.”

“I don’t need him or his money.” Jilly was used to living on a budget and depending upon herself.

“You need his financial support. And he needs to face up to his responsibilities—for once in his life.”

Jeff was probably right. He always was, so it seemed. What would she have done without him?

When he left town five years ago, she was sure he was leaving her, like every other male she’d ever known. But he’d called her every week, insisting on maintaining a friendship. And she was glad he had, although their friendship did have a downside.

Jeff often took on the role of a big brother and criticized everyone she’d ever dated, saying the guy wasn’t good enough for her, which was sweet, she supposed.

It was also true, unfortunately.

Jilly never picked the right kind of guy. Her recent experience with Cain was certainly proof of that.

But Jeff was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She had to tell Cain about the baby, even though she didn’t want to.

Jilly had always dreamed of falling in love, getting married and having a baby—in that order. Guilt assaulted her, and she hated the idea of parenting a child with a man who wasn’t the white knight she’d once thought.

But worse, she dreaded raising a child in a single-parent home.

Usually able to don a tough exterior, she broke down in blubbery tears.

Jeff couldn’t stand to hear Jilly cry. She was such a tough cookie on the outside, but inside she was delicate, a tenderhearted softy.

He gave her time to cry, which is what he would have done had he been there to hold her. Still, her tears always did a number on him, and he needed time to think things through, plan his words of support.

Her call had taken him aback, not just because he was busy at the makeshift fire-fighting headquarters, but because he hadn’t liked Cain in the first place.

He supposed he could understand her attraction to the cocky fireman. Jilly had never been entirely convinced that she amounted to much—a result of her mother’s criticism and the community gossip, he’d always suspected. No wonder she’d fallen for a line of bull when good-looking, fast-talking Cain paid attention to her.

Jeff suddenly felt an overwhelming compulsion to slam a fist into the macho fireman’s face.

Maybe he was jealous of the guy, in a strange sort of way. The guy who married Jilly was going to be a hell of a lucky man. And Jeff hated to think that man would be Cain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, when he figured Jilly had gotten her tears and sobs under control.

She sniffled. “Yes. I guess so. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”

Yeah, that’s what she always told him when she got into trouble. But this was different. More serious. She was pregnant, for cripe’s sake.

“I know it’ll be tough for you to do, but you’ve got to tell him about the baby, honey.”

The term of endearment had slipped out, through no intention of his own. But it felt right. Jilly was a sweetheart, and she didn’t deserve any of the crap Cain had dealt her.

“Okay,” she said, her voice shaking and laced with tears she would probably continue to shed long after they hung up the phone. It killed him to see her brokenhearted, worried, alone.

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” she said.

“It’s the right thing to do, Jilly.”

She blew out a sigh. “I guess that’s why I called you. I knew you’d see things more clearly than me. And maybe Cain will react differently than I expect.”

Jeff doubted Cain would be man enough to step up to the plate and do right by her and the baby, but she owed him the truth.

Again Jeff was struck with the urge to batter Cain senseless, but that wouldn’t help Jilly.

Jeff had been looking after her for years and would continue to do so. That’s what friends were for. “I’ll stop by and see you as soon as we get this fire under control.”

She sniffled. “I’d like that.”

“You’ll make a good mom, Jilly.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen, honey—” Oops, the endearment slipped out again, but he continued anyway, desperately wanting to say something sensible and helpful “—everything is going to work out fine. Just wait and see.”

Somehow Jeff would make sure of it.

When Jilly hung up the telephone, she stroked the little dog that had curled up on her lap.

“What do you think, Posey?”

The mutt stood up and licked her chin.

“What would I do without you or Jeff?”

Posey whimpered, then gave a little bark.

Jilly glanced at the phone, wishing she had the kind of news that didn’t need to be delivered to Cain in person.

What a coward.

Still, she didn’t want to show up on his doorstep and find he was on duty at the fire station.

What the heck. Why not call and see if he answered? She could always hang up.

And that’s what she decided to do. Fortunately, she got his answering machine. “I’m out and about. Leave a message and I’ll call you when I feel like it.”

Most people found his recording humorous. But they didn’t know him like Jilly did. The fact was Cain only called a person back when he felt like it.

How many times had she waited for a return call? How many times had she wondered where he was and why he was late?

She thought about the last time she’d seen him. He’d been out with another fireman, a buddy, he’d said. But a telltale smear of fire-engine-red lipstick on his collar suggested otherwise.

“While ol’ Frank and I were tossing down a few brews at Joe’s bar, the waitress slipped on a lemon wedge someone had dropped on the floor. I caught her, just before she fell.” He’d winked at Jilly, then added, “Once a hero, always a hero.”

That poor waitress must have fallen hard, because Cain bore a small bruise on his neck. The fact that it looked suspiciously like a love bite didn’t do his questionable credibility any good.

What an idiot she’d been, a definite slow learner in the relationship department.

Like the sand in an hourglass, Jeff’s friendly advice finally began to sink in. The good-looking fireman had been taking her for a ride, stringing her along. Playing tetherball with her heart.

Cain had never been there when she needed him. And she really didn’t expect him to do things any differently now.

But Jeff was right. He deserved to know about the baby.

She hung up the phone and sighed. Chances were Cain was on duty and at the station tonight. That meant he would be home tomorrow morning. Like it or not, it was best she got this over with.

Jilly would be on Cain’s front porch after he got home from work and before he could leave.

Then she would lay her pride on the line.

Chapter Three

Jilly parked her ten-year-old, white Ford Taurus along the curb in front of Cain’s apartment building and struggled to find the courage to face him.

What would she say?

Telling a man he was going to be a father, that they were going to be parents, should be an exciting and happy time. So why did she feel as though she were stepping onto the long green mile?

Because a relationship with Cain—even one in which they only shared a child—seemed like a death sentence. Things hadn’t ended well, and she’d made it clear in both tone and volume that she’d rather die than see or talk to him again.

She glanced into the rearview mirror and, catching a glimpse of the dark circles under her eyes that revealed she hadn’t slept worth a darn last night, blew out a ragged sigh. She’d best get this over with.

Cain’s living-room blinds were open, indicating he was indeed home. But she couldn’t see inside. Had he seen her pull up?

She could still turn the Taurus around and drive away. Go home with her secret and pride in tact. It certainly felt like the right thing to do. But instead, with Jeff’s advice ringing in her ears, she jerked open the car door and slipped from her vehicle.

Another wave of apprehension assaulted her. What was she doing here? Their relationship was over, and she’d never wanted to see Cain again. Of course, small-town life made completely avoiding him impossible. But this was different. Jilly was actually seeking him out and providing information that would complicate things.

She trudged up the walk, the leather soles of her sandals crunching upon the dirty concrete in a cadence that woke the coward that lived deep in her soul—the yellow-bellied weakling she’d banished years ago by playing tough guy.

It’s not too late, the coward reminded her. You can still turn around.

But Jeff’s voice kicked in, strong and true. I know it’ll be tough for you to do, but you’ve got to tell him about the baby, honey.

Yeah. Telling Cain was the right thing to do, she supposed. Leave it to Jeff to set her on the straight-and-narrow path.

Jilly stepped around a worn leather baseball mitt someone had left on the walkway and continued up the stairs to Cain’s second-level apartment. She rang the bell and wiped her palms on the sides of her jeans.

When Cain swung open the door, surprise registered briefly on his face, then he flashed her a pearly white smile. “Look who’s here. A while back, you seemed pretty serious about never seeing me again, babe. Change your mind?”

She wanted to slap the smirk from his face, but crossed her arms instead. “I need to talk to you.”

“Sure,” he said, stepping aside. “But I’ve only got a few minutes. I just got a call from Reed down at the station. The wind changed, and some of us are being sent in to help fight the fire again. We’re heading out in less than an hour.”

Jilly nodded, then made her way into the classic bachelor’s pad—leather sofa, fully stocked bar, state-of-the-art stereo system, surround sound. A dimmer switch on all the lights.

Like Jeff had said during one of their telephone conversations when she told him about how nice Cain’s place was, “That’s quite an impressive setup in a rented apartment. He’s a player, Jilly. Watch out.”

Jilly had clicked her tongue and waved him off. “Give the guy a break, will you? He’s not the same kid you remember from school. He’s a fireman for goodness’ sake.”

But Jeff had been right—as usual. Why hadn’t she figured it out sooner? Before her life came tumbling down around her.

“Did you come to apologize?” Cain asked.

Of all the…

Her earlier apprehension and case of nerves flew by the wayside as righteous indignation took their place. “For what? For trusting you? For thinking you could commit to one woman for the duration of a four-month relationship?”

He shook his head and shot her a wry grin. “If you think long and hard, you’ll realize I never made you any promises, babe.”

She had to admit he hadn’t, not really. And she tried to remember how sweet he’d been in the early part of their relationship, how he’d poured her a glass of wine, turned on the soft sound of jazz, sat her on a bar stool that faced the kitchen so she could watch him prepare a romantic dinner for two.

He was an incredible cook—much better than she was—and she’d looked forward to each meal they shared. And on those nights they hadn’t spent together, he’d called her to say good-night.

But it had all been an act, a facade. He hadn’t cared about her, not in the right way.

“Listen, Cain, I’ll make this quick, but I can’t make it easy. I’m pregnant.”

His dark brow furrowed momentarily, then a slow smile broadened. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’m four months pregnant,” she said, assuming he would count and figure it out.

He crossed his arms, the lighthearted smile turning dry. “Like I said, who’s the lucky guy?”

As though having a mind of its own, her hand lashed out and slapped his face. The sound reverberated in the room, and the contact stung her palm.

He rubbed a reddened cheek. “I hope you’re not going to try and blame a pregnancy on me. If you’ll remember, we always used condoms. I’m not the kind of guy to take stupid chances.”

Tears welled up in Jilly’s eyes. “I wasn’t even going to tell you about it.”

“Then why did you?” Cain leaned against the armrest of the sofa. “I’m not the marrying kind, Jilly. And I’m not about to be strapped with a kid and wife. You, of all people, should have figured that out.”

“Believe me, I thought long and hard about telling you. But this baby is yours, as much as I rue that fact. And I thought you should know.”

“So, now I know.” He raked a hand through his hair, then shook his head. “Hell, Jilly. I need some time to think about things. And talk to an attorney, I guess.”

“Do whatever you need to do,” she said, suddenly sorry she’d listened to Jeff’s advice. She could have saved herself a ton of humiliation by keeping her secret. “I’m not happy about this, either. I’m going to owe the poor child a ton of apologies, since he or she is getting the short end of the stick in the father department.”

Undaunted by her slam, he merely shrugged. “I’m going to ask for a paternity test.”

“Whatever.” She turned on her heel and strode for the door, eager to escape the man she should never have gotten involved with in the first place.

Before she could turn the knob, he caught her arm and pulled her around to face him.

His usually cocky stance slumped and a bit of remorse softened his expression. “Listen, Jilly. I’m sorry about being a jerk, but you’re going to have to give me some time to think things through.”

She could certainly understand his need to think things through, and she tried to understand his shock and frustration. But that didn’t make him any less of a jerk. “The news didn’t sit well with me, either.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Jilly. I’m not going to offer marriage.”

Did he think that she wanted to marry him? That marriage to him would solve all her problems?

She raised her chin, mustering all the bravado she could find. “Don’t worry about me being disappointed, Cain. Being married to a guy like you would be an awful penance to pay for past mistakes.”

She just hoped his involvement in her child’s future wouldn’t be worse.

Jeff and his crew climbed from the plane and dispersed on the temporary landing field after another day of dousing the flames that continued to threaten Custer National Forest.

Exhausted and tired of sucking smoke and ash into his lungs, Jeff took one last look at the C-130 transport plane that had been converted to a tanker. At twenty-four, he was pretty damn young to be flying one of the big birds, and he knew it. But not many guys his age could boast of his extensive experience.

The U.S. Forestry Service had been surprised at the cockpit proficiency he’d garnered in his youth, but they quickly put him to use as a pilot for MAFFS when he’d been hired.

Jeff had always loved planes and flying, and on his fifteenth birthday, his uncle Stratton took him to the airfield and paid for his first ride in a biplane. It had been the best gift he’d ever had and had merely whetted his appetite for more flights, more time in the air.

It wasn’t every teenager who could afford his own flying lessons in a multitude of different planes, nor every kid who had the good fortune of meeting a guy like Hank Ragsdale at an air show in Billings.

Hank had taken young Jeff under his wing and introduced him to other members of the Commemorative Air Force, a host of airmen who flew old World War II planes. Jeff had earned his pilot’s license at the age of sixteen, and from then on out, there was no stopping him—not with the money in the hefty trust fund that his mother had left him.

Jeff had been certified in more planes than he could count, thanks to Hank and his buddies.

“Forsythe,” Jim Anderson called from the makeshift command post. “How’d it go today?”

“Not bad. But we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” Jeff lifted the bill of his hat and raked a hand through his hair. It had been a hell of a long day already. “Are we making any progress out near Rocky Point?”

“I’m afraid not.” Jim furrowed his brow. “In fact, a couple of firemen from Rumor sent to assist us are missing. We’re going to send a Huey out to search for them now.”

Jeff’s first concern was for his cousin, Reed Kingsley, the Rumor Fire Chief. “Who’s out there?”

“Harry Willett and Cain Kincaid. They were having radio trouble earlier, so I’m not sure what’s going on.”

Cain.

Jeff’s heart dropped to his gut. He might want to pound the guy senseless, but he didn’t want anything—other than a good and well-deserved beating—to happen to the father of Jilly’s baby. “Who’s going to look for them?”

Jim nodded toward a CH1 single-engine with the blades rotating. “Bart Henthorne. That’s him heading out.”

“I’m going with him,” Jeff said.

“Now wait a minute. You’ve been out all day, Forsythe. Take a break.”

Jeff shook his head. “This is personal, Jim. Cain is a friend of a friend.”

“Oh, what the hell. Go ahead. Just don’t get heroic. If you need a rescue team, radio in and we’ll send one out. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Jeff shot his boss a grin. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Then he loped toward the Huey, intending to reach the chopper before it took off.

Jeff hadn’t liked Cain Kincaid since the first grade. The guy had always been a braggart and a liar. And Jeff couldn’t believe it had taken Jilly so long to see through him.

“He comes from a nice family,” she’d said in the fireman’s defense.

“Yeah?” Jeff had responded. “Well his parents gave him a biblical name he’s certainly living up to.”

Jilly had figured his status as a public servant in the community gave his character some sort of validation. But a snake in the grass like Cain didn’t grow legs and feet, just because he was slithering through life in a uniform.

The weekly talks Jeff and Jilly had shared only confirmed his opinion. In fact, each time Jilly revealed more about her relationship with the fire man, Jeff’s list of mental grievances against the guy grew.

When Jilly’s car was in the shop, Cain forgot to pick her up at work—not once but twice. He borrowed money from her, then had a million excuses why he couldn’t pay her back.

Cain even skipped out on caring for her when she got the flu, telling her he didn’t want to catch the bug and then going out with the guys to Beauty and the Beats, the strip joint, instead. “Hey, babe,” he’d told Jilly. “It was a guy thing. Those girls can’t hold a candle to you.”

Yeah, right.

At least twice Cain cheated on her in the four months they’d dated. Knowing the Rumor Romeo’s reputation, Jeff suspected Jilly had only managed to catch him twice.

But Cain was the father of Jilly’s baby, and Jeff was determined to bring the man to safety and encourage him to do right by her, even if doing right only meant providing financial support.

“I’m coming with you,” Jeff said to Bart Henthorne, as he climbed into the chopper. “Let’s go find those guys.”

For nearly twenty minutes the pilot and Jeff scoured the perimeter of the fire line, searching for the firefighters who’d lost radio contact with the command post.

The hot, smoky air swirled around them, at times clouding their vision as they scanned rocks, trees and mountainsides, looking for the yellow suits of the missing men. Their last-known position was a half mile from Rocky Point, a rugged mountain that had been aptly named by early trappers and settlers.

“There they are,” the chopper pilot said, pointing to the left. “On the east side of Rocky Point.”

One man was sprawled on the ground, obviously injured. The other stood, waving his arms.

“Damn,” the pilot said. “That fire is pretty close. We’d better get a rescue crew out here.”

And the fire would soon box them in. Jeff didn’t think a rescue team could make it in time. “We’ve got to get them now.”

“There’s no place for me to land,” the chopper pilot said. “And at this altitude, power is going to be a problem. We’re not equipped to do a rescue.”

“We’ll have to try. My first job with the forestry service was working on a rescue team. I know the drills backward and forward. And since we don’t have a crewman, I’ll go down. Can you run the hoist?”

“Yeah, but it’s going to be tricky.” The pilot shook his head. “I don’t know about this, Jeff. This bird isn’t equipped with all the rescue gear. And I’m at max power now. If I start losing turns, we’ll all go down.”

“I’ll try and make this quick.”

“The winds are pretty damn gusty. Be careful.”

Jeff strapped himself into the horse collar and descended from the hovering aircraft. The rotating blades sent the hot, smoky air swirling around him as the cable lowered him to the small patch of rocky ground where the stranded firemen waited.

A quick glance told him the wounded man was Cain. Blood and dirt covered the side of his head and face. And his eyes were closed.

“Is he alive?” Jeff asked Willett, voice straining to be heard over the noise of the chopper.

“Just barely. A burning tree limb fell on him, knocking him out. I dragged him this far, hoping to reach the rocky spot where we could escape the flames. We lost the radio somewhere along the way.”

“We’ll get you out of here,” Jeff said. “But let’s load him on the litter.”

Willett helped Jeff guide the basket that would carry Cain to the safety of the chopper.

Before lifting the wounded man onto the litter, Jeff looked him over. He had a knot the size of a golf ball over his eye, and a ragged gash gaped at the left temple. Blood, ash and dirt didn’t hide a third-degree burn on his cheek.

Jeff felt for a pulse and got one. As they loaded Cain onto the basket, he came to and grimaced in pain. Maybe the injured fireman would be all right, once they got him to Whitehorn Memorial Hospital.

When they’d secured Cain to the litter, Jeff told Willett to go first. With the pilot controlling the chopper and the hoist, they’d need someone to help pull Cain to safety.

As Jeff prepared to signal Willet they were ready to go, Cain opened his eyes. His pain-filled gaze fixed on Jeff. “Thanks for coming after us, Forsythe.”

“It’s my job.”

Cain nodded, his pale face twisted in pain and his voice hoarse. “Am I gonna make it?”

“You’d better make it,” Jeff said. “You’ve got a kid on the way. And some responsibility to face.” Jeff signaled the pilot to pull the basket up.

When it was Jeff’s turn, he grabbed the line to ascend. Smoke swirled around him, burning his throat and stinging his eyes, while the wind swung his cable high and wide. The chopper struggled to stay steady, but as Jeff left the ground, dangling like bait on the line, an updraft jerked the helicopter, slamming him against a rock on the mountain-side.

He heard the sound of his bone breaking before feeling a sharp crack of pain and a brutal ache that made his head spin, but he managed to hold on to consciousness. He swung out of control, all the while trying desperately to stay alert, to ignore smoke in his eyes and lungs, the excruciating pain in his head, arm and shoulder.

When he’d first started this flight, he’d told Henthorne he knew the rescue routine backward and forward. He just hoped the chopper pilot could manage to fly without using the guillotine switch that would cut the cable, thus saving those on board and the bird.

A couple of times he felt the buzz that came with loss of consciousness, yet somehow he managed to stay coherent. It seemed like hours before the hoist began to pull him up.

As he was dragged onto the chopper floor, Jeff asked Willett, “How’s Kincaid?”

But before he could hear the answer, a throbbing roar filled his ears and darkness settled around him.

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