doesn’t want me around.” She pushed at him again. “Get away from me. I was going to sit on the roof, not wander around like an idiot when you have the property booby-trapped.”
“What are you thinking of doing now? It’s the middle of the night. You know I have traps set up.”
“I have a very good sense of smell. I can track my way back out of here the same way I came in.”
She probably could too, but she was making him crazy, and his calm was going to disintegrate very soon. “Stop crying. I mean it, Briony, you have to stop.”
“Or what?” She was angry that she was crying. Once she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Maybe she was hysterical, but if she wanted to sit out in the middle of the night and cry her eyes out, it was her business. “You’re going to beat me? Someone else already did that. I’m not intimidated by you.”
Jack dragged her close, holding her tightly against his body in spite of her struggles, one hand cupping the back of her head to press her face against his chest. He bent his head to find her bruised cheek, his mouth feathering kisses over the swollen side of her face. “Shh,” he said to soothe her, closing his eyes against the pain in her mind. She radiated sorrow-grief-and he couldn’t bear it. “I’m not the enemy.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” But she couldn’t stop. Her world was gone and her hormones were running wild and there was nowhere to go to escape him.
“It’s going to be all right. Everything will be fine. You’re overtired and you need to sleep.” His fingers began a slow massage of her neck, then slowly crept into her hair to massage her scalp, tunneling deep, moving with sure, circular strokes.
“I don’t want to go in the house, Jack. I can’t go into that room.” How could she make him understand? At least outside, the wind and forest helped to dissipate his scent-give her a breathing space from her need of him.
Jack had never had a weeping woman in his arms before. He stood quietly, just holding her while her body shook with the force of her sobs. His chin nuzzled the top of her head. Soft strands of her hair caught in the shadow along his chin. He didn’t try to stop the flood of tears-she had enough to cry about-he simply reached down, positioning his arm beneath her knees, and lifted her, cradling her against him.
“All right. We’ll stay out here. Shh, Briony. You’re going to make yourself ill.” She was light, easy enough to lift, and Jack simply jumped with her, landing back on his porch, Briony cradled in his arms. He settled on the front porch rocker, the one he’d built with his own two hands. They fit comfortably, and he rocked gently, rubbing her hair with his chin, hands gently massaging her neck.
He should have felt like a damn fool, but he didn’t. She felt right in his arms. He sat in the night, rocking on his porch, watching the trees swaying and listening to the night sounds of the forest. She wept silently, her tears soaking his shirt as she slowly struggled to regain control.
“It’s strange with you,” he said aloud. “When I’m with you, I feel like an ordinary man. Everything else falls away, and I can see how beautiful things around me really are. I’ve sat on this porch hundreds of times, and the night has never looked like this. I’ve stared into the forest, and I saw a million places to hide, to set up an ambush, to find food. I didn’t see the way the leaves look silver in the moonlight, or the way the trees seem to dance and lift up their branches to the stars. Why do you suppose that is?”
Briony swallowed hard and turned her tear-wet face up to him, her dark, liquid gaze searching his face.
Jack wiped the tears away with his fingertips, hands gentle, almost reverent. “It’s the truth, Briony. I see the world differently when you’re around me.”
“Don’t, Jack. I’m very susceptible to you, and right now I’m pregnant so it’s probably worse. Don’t say things like that to me.” Briony tried to look away from him, but he held her chin.
“I want you here,” he admitted gruffly.
“But you said… ”
“I know what I said. That doesn’t matter now. We’ll have plenty of time to sort it all out. I can feel your headache, and you aren’t making it any better by crying. Just listen to the night and relax, go to sleep. One of the reasons we chose to build up here is the quiet, the peace.”
Briony closed her eyes and fit her body more comfortably into his. As a rule she didn’t cry in front of anyone, and she was embarrassed that she was still sniffing. He held her like she mattered to him, and she didn’t know if that made it better or worse.
“Just over there, through those trees and down a little slope, is my shop. I thought I’d add onto it and give you a place to make your stained glass.”
“I didn’t bring my sketchbook.”
“I’ll get you a new one. You’ll have plenty of time to draw.”
Briony’s lashes lifted. He was looking down at her, and there was something in his eyes, something close to admiration, when she didn’t feel she was at all acting in an admirable way. Her heart responded in spite of her determination to remain at an emotional distance from him. She lifted her hand to his face, traced the hard lines with her fingertips. “I missed your face, Jack.”
He turned his head enough to brush kisses over her hand. “I’m sorry for the things I said to you that night. I know I hurt you.”
“You did hurt me. I knew you had to go, but you didn’t have to do it that way. Why did you?” The pads of her fingers smoothed over his lips.
“I have some things to sort out, Briony, but it isn’t about you-or the baby. It’s about me and my character and who and what I am. Never you.” He caught her hand and held it against his throat.
“I swear I was on birth control pills, Jack. I didn’t get pregnant on purpose. I wouldn’t do that to a man. And I’m capable of raising a child on my own. You won’t have to worry about me asking for money or anything. I need survival skills… ”
“Briony, stop,” Jack ordered. His hand curved around her neck, fingers working to massage the tension out of her. “It’s my child too. I want you here. I want the baby here. I’ll teach you the things you need, and after the baby is born, we’ll both protect him together.”
Her heart jumped, but she wasn’t ready to hope again. “Why do you think it’s a boy?”
“Because my heart couldn’t take a girl. Can you imagine some boy trying to date my daughter? I’d be sharpening my knives when he came calling.”
Briony’s soft laughter was muffled against his chest, but the sound played through his body with the strength of a tidal wave. He’d expected the rising, urgent need, but not the contentment, the joy. He didn’t know joy, didn’t understand it, was even wary of the emotion. It crept over him, stealing into his heart whether he wanted it or not-brought by a woman, by the sound of her laughter.
“You’re so silly, Jack.”
“I’ve never been called that before. I know it was difficult for you to come here.” He knew that was a mild way of putting it, but Briony always did what she thought was right-no matter the cost to her-and going to Jack had come with a high price tag.
The smile faded from her face. “I want this baby. I know we weren’t looking for it to happen, but the minute the doctor told me I was pregnant, I was happy. I’m really serious about being able to do it on my own.”
“I know you are. I’m really serious about being a part of your lives.”
Her smile lit her eyes. “Boy or girl, a child is such a miracle, don’t you think?”
He rocked her gently, letting the night work its magic. So many times Ken and he had come home weary and wounded and sat on the porch listening to the night. Insects hummed, owls fluttered wings, bats dipped and whirled, and deer moved with grace through the surrounding forest, comforting them. His heat seeped into the cold of her body, warming her as her lashes drifted down and her body relaxed fully into his. Her breathing became soft and even, as she snuggled like a broken child in his arms, sheltered close to his heart.
