Hope’s Child Read online

  Hope was going to have a baby?

  Lyon’s heart thudded as hard as it ever had on the football field.

  “Who says anyone else needs to know about my condition? For the time being anyway,” Hope added to his arched look.

  “Are you suggesting we pass the baby off as mine?” he asked slowly.

  “Maybe I’m splitting hairs, but I was thinking that if we’re not announcing a pregnancy, there’s no deception.”

  After staring at her for several seconds, he abruptly glanced at his watch and muttered an expletive under his breath. “I have to get back to the station. Forgive me,” he began. “I’m admittedly tired, a little cranky and feeling way out of my comfort zone. Humor me and let me do at least one thing conventionally.” Awkwardly shifting the bag into his bandaged left hand, he placed three fingers under her chin and tilted her face upward. “Marry me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Dear Reader,

  Happy spring! Hope and Lyon’s story begins in May, as well. Actually, it began when they were both schoolkids, but as life and fate would have it, they never got to follow through on impulses and deep-seated feelings until heartache and heartbreak changed everything.

  As I was developing their story, I was reminded of my first book for Silhouette Books, Partners for Life for the Desire series, which became a Golden Medallion (now RITA® Award) nominee. It, too, echoed a theme from O. Henry’s famous short story, The Gift of the Magi, where a couple make sacrifices for love.

  This is my 44th book and it seems fitting after all that has occurred these past few years that there’s a sense of having come full circle. My sincere thanks to those of you who have stayed with me through the journey, especially those who have written to ask for specific stories. I hope I can fulfill those requests.

  Know that you are imperative in what we do. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being readers! I wish you all a personal love story to equal Hope and Lyon’s.

  With warmest regards,

  Helen

  HOPE’S CHILD

  HELEN R. MYERS

  Books by Helen R. Myers

  Silhouette Special Edition

  After That Night… #1066

  Beloved Mercenary #1162

  What Should Have Been #1758

  A Man to Count On #1830

  The Last Man She’d Marry #1914

  Daddy on Demand #2004

  Hope’s Child #2045

  Silhouette Romance

  Donovan’s Mermaid #557

  Someone To Watch Over Me #643

  Confidentially Yours #677

  Invitation to a Wedding #737

  A Fine Arrangement #776

  Through My Eyes #814

  Three Little Chaperones #861

  Forbidden Passion #908

  A Father’s Promise #1002

  To Wed at Christmas #1049

  The Merry Matchmaker #1121

  Baby in a Basket #1169

  Silhouette Books

  Silhouette Shadows Collection 1992

  “Seawitch”

  Montana Mavericks

  The Law is No Lady

  Silhouette Desire

  Partners for Life #370

  Smooth Operator #454

  That Fontaine Woman! #471

  The Pirate O’Keefe #506

  Kiss Me Kate #570

  After You #599

  When Gabriel Called #650

  Navarrone #738

  Jake #797

  Once Upon a Full Moon #857

  The Rebel and the Hero #941

  Just a Memory Away #990

  The Officer and the Renegade #1102

  Silhouette Shadows

  Night Mist #6

  Whispers in the Woods #23

  Watching for Willa #49

  MIRA Books

  Come Sundown

  More Than You Know

  Lost

  Dead End

  Final Stand

  No Sanctuary

  While Others Sleep

  HELEN R. MYERS

  is a collector of two- and four-legged strays, and lives deep in the Piney Woods of East Texas. She cites cello music and bonsai gardening as favorite relaxation pastimes, and still edits in her sleep—an accident, learned while writing her first book. A bestselling author of diverse themes and focus, she is a three-time RITA® Award nominee, winning for Navarrone in 1993.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Prologue

  “Would you hand over your truck keys, please?”

  Right after sliding into the back booth of the Cedar Grove Bar and Grill, Hope Alessandro Harrell got the exact reaction she expected from her fiancé, Will Nichols. His baby blues widened, he reared back his blond head as though startled by an unexpected jab, and then he smirked.

  “Now darlin’, you aren’t going to make a scene, are you?”

  Blinking away tears of humiliation from what she’d witnessed upon entering the North Central Texas establishment, she enunciated softly to avoid being overheard by the diners around them, “You’ve put on enough of a show for one night, and I don’t care to sit here a second longer than I have to being either pitied or gossiped about. Now, either pass me the keys to your truck, or I’ll call someone to get a lift home…or ask Lyon to drive me.” She regretted accepting a friend’s offer to drop her off so she could drive back to her place with Will. What had seemed a good idea at the time—due to the weather—was suddenly a major error in judgment.

  By “Lyon,” she meant Chief of Police Lyon Teague still standing by the bar pretending to nurse a mug of coffee. Will’s old schoolmate and best friend had stopped by to escape the May downpour that was making driving in their area treacherous. He had obviously witnessed what had transpired before her arrival, since he’d been standing beside Will when she’d entered. From the expression on his face, he, too, was wishing he was anywhere but there.

  “And how am I supposed to get home?” Will asked. “I have two hundred head of cattle to transfer to the sale barns first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Ask Rochelle Sims to give you a lift. I’ve no doubt as soon as I leave, she’ll be all over you again anyway.”

  Will’s bored expression spoke fathoms about how seriously he was taking this. “Rochelle is just…Rochelle.”

  Although there wasn’t a hint of a slur to his speech to confirm that he’d been drinking for a while before she’d arrived, his attitude made Hope all the more offended and disgusted. “And that’s acceptable behavior to you? Her hands all over you—in places no lady should venture in public?”

  “Now you’re exaggerating.”

  “I don’t think so. I also don’t think this was the first time she’s been so familiar with you.”

  Aware that there were a good dozen people angling to see and listen to what was going on between them, Hope leaned across the table and extended her hand. “I’m dead serious, Will. Keys. Either way, I’m out of here.”

  Muttering, Will handed them over, but when she slid out of the booth, she wasn’t thrilled that he followed. At six-four he could pretty well go wherever he wanted to go, and being only five-seven in her highest heels, Hope felt compelled to pause by Lyon before exiting the grill.

  “I’d just like you to know that we’re leaving. I’ll be driving myself home in Will’s truck to my place. A friend dropped me off so I’m without a ride. Could you make sure he gets home okay once he takes possession of his vehicle?”

&
nbsp; Shooting Will a grim look, Lyon opened his mouth to speak, then, paused and nodded once. “I’ll do better than that, I’ll be right behind you.”

  Hope sensed from Lyon’s demeanor that what he really wanted was for her to let him drive her home. But she still had things to say to Will; they might as well get it over with than drag things out. Relieved to know that Lyon would be close, she touched the sleeve of his yellow police raincoat. “I appreciate that.”

  It was early May and spring was exhibiting its more serious side with a rock-and-roll thunderstorm. Lightning shot from black skies like laser guns in a sci-fi movie and the earth shook as bolts hit in frequent succession. The storm had stalled, so as soon as a bolt exploded in the east, another struck the pasture across the street, and before Hope could swallow her heart back down into her chest, the western sky lit followed by a hair-raising crack. Any thought of backing out of her decision to delay her departure was gone as the restaurant’s door shut behind them indicating Will was blocking her retreat. Hope ran for the truck. Unfortunately, along with her high heels, she was in a pencil skirt, so when Will caught up with her and snatched the keys out of her hands, she could do nothing but shout his name in protest.

  “Get inside before we both get fried!” he yelled back to her.

  By the time she slammed the passenger door shut, she was as angry as she was drenched. Once Will climbed in on the driver’s side, she snapped, “I swear, Will, this is it.”

  In truth, though, she was as fed up with herself than she was with him; after all, he was just being himself. She was the fool for believing that loving her would inspire some maturity and restraint in the man. At this point she had to wonder if he knew what the meaning of love truly meant? Even as he backed out of the parking slot and exited the lot, she could tell he was no less upset. But that was his perfect M.O. for being caught red-handed.

  “The wedding is off,” she continued, striving to keep her tone even.

  Will’s response was as if she’d thrown her engagement ring out the window. Swearing, he pounded the steering wheel with his fist. “That’s not fair!”

  “Oh, and playing touchy-feely with a woman who would lie with roadkill for a thrill is? What’s unfair is that you’ve been misrepresenting yourself all along. How often did you cheat after dropping me off at home, or when I was out of town on business? Just count during this past year that we’ve been engaged.”

  “You can’t expect me to answer such a lose-lose question. C’mon, baby, you know what happened back there was nothing.”

  “It was plenty something to me. Did you really think I was that desperate to get married that I would pretend to not notice your loose zipper mentality? Then you don’t know me at all.”

  “Well, get it all out then and tell me what I need to do to make you happy again because your father won’t let you cancel the wedding,” Will said, his tone resigned. “He wants Nichols land joined with Harrell land one way or another. Besides, I can’t afford to pay him back what I owe him yet.”

  This second shock of the evening left Hope almost speechless. “You borrowed from my father knowing how he does business? When? How much?” The next troubling and infuriating thing to cross her mind was that her father hadn’t said a word of this to her.

  “Under the circumstances, it’s none of your business, is it?”

  He sounded more like a teenager focused on gaining the upper hand than an adult of thirty-four. “Right you are,” Hope said telling herself that in the long run, she was about to get off easy. “Forget that I asked.”

  That indifference wasn’t the reaction Will had expected. “Okay, so I goofed up and a couple of things didn’t work out. The bank note was due last month, but cattle prices were too low to send them to market. Everything is fine now. I’ll pay him back by Monday. You know, the bank was really impressed that I have you and your old man’s support. They finally increased my line of credit, so I won’t have to borrow from him again.”

  Hope experienced a new wave of revulsion for him. Why hadn’t he let her see these anything-goes, means-to-an-end sides of him? Studying his profile for a few seconds, she announced. “I’m pregnant.”

  Will threw back his head and howled with glee. “Jackpot!”

  That told Hope all she needed to know. She’d been taken off birth control by her doctor and Will had assured her that he would be responsible for taking care of things until she had made up her mind on the best means of protection, or was ready to start a family. They’d not had unprotected sex, so finding herself weeks late had rattled her, especially since historically her menstrual cycle was as regular as a government clock. “You tampered with those condoms,” she said voicing her worst suspicion.

  With a shrug and self-satisfied grin, Will replied, “It all works out. We wanted kids. I needed insurance in case something like this sprang up before the wedding.”

  Amazing, she thought. He was disciplined enough for all of these machinations, but he couldn’t restrict himself to one woman—let alone be truthful to her.

  “I can’t wait to tell Ellis,” Will continued.

  “You do that.” Seething, Hope’s hand shook as she pulled off the engagement ring that had been feeling increasingly cumbersome and awkward on her hand. If he was having financial troubles, she could only imagine what he still owed on it. “And be sure to let him know that I’m done with you and why.”

  When she pulled open the ashtray drawer and dropped the ring inside, Will protested. “Hey! Put that back on!”

  Hope couldn’t believe when he began swatting away her hand and grappling for the piece of jewelry. “Watch the road, Will. Will!”

  The big white dually pickup spun on the oil-and-water slick county road. Uttering an explicit curse, Will jerked on the steering wheel. That overreaction shot the diesel truck down an embankment where the truck’s right wheels sunk quickly into ground already soft from two previous flooding rains. The momentum sent the weighty vehicle flipping into the pasture below.

  As they rolled over and over, Hope screamed, first out of terror, next from the pain as Will’s much larger and heavier body slammed repeatedly against hers. He’d been too agitated and too determined to get his way to fasten his seat belt.

  When the 360-degree roller coaster came to a halt, they had settled upside down. Gasping to get air into her lungs as the seat belt threatened to slice her neck and crush her lungs from her body being forced against it, Hope’s first thought was, My baby!

  She knew she wouldn’t be able to tell how badly she was hurt until she was upright again and prayed it was soon. Her body’s blood was rushing to her head and she felt every heartbeat, the fresh night air rushing through all four shattered door windows reviving her more than she might have wanted. Then her gaze settled on the crumpled, still heap beside her.

  “Will?”

  He didn’t respond, didn’t move at all as he lay on the ceiling of the cab. In this rural field away from street lights, she couldn’t tell if he was bleeding or even breathing. She reached for him.

  “Will!”

  “Hope—don’t try to move him!”

  The sound of Lyon’s voice sent a wave of relief over her that brought tears to her eyes. She twisted what little she could to see him drop to his knees and lean down to peer at her. He aimed his flashlight all around her to gauge her condition, but tried to avoid getting the beam directly in her eyes. Grasping the hand she reached toward him, he squeezed reassuringly.

  “Are you bleeding anywhere, sweetheart?”

  “N-no. I don’t think so. But Will—”

  Lyon aimed the flashlight at him and after only three seconds, returned the beam to her. “Let’s get you out first. I’m smelling fuel.”

  Come to think of it, Hope did, too. As a new wave of terror threatened to override reason, she repressed a whimper and wrestled with the seat belt.

  “I’ve got it. Easy…”

  Lyon opened a pocketknife and quickly sliced the belt. With his help, she slump
ed more than dropped to the padded ceiling. Then wrapping his arms around her, he eased her through the frame of sharp shards as quickly but carefully as he could.

  “That’s it,” he said praising her instincts to fold into a fetal position to protect her face and extremities. In less than a minute from first arriving, he was jogging up the slope to his patrol car lighting the night sky with its own light show.

  “Put me down, Lyon,” she pleaded. “I’m okay and you need to get back to Will.” But another close bolt of lightning made a liar out of her and she cringed into a tighter ball and wrapped her arms fiercely around his neck as she hid her face against him.

  Lyon didn’t put her down until he had her inside the backseat of his car. He quickly dragged off his raincoat and wrapped it around her. “You should hear an ambulance and fire truck any second now,” he assured her. And with a tender caress of his fingers across her cheek, he was gone.

  Before he reached the truck, Hope did hear sirens. The rain was easing up and the temperatures were milder than ever, but Hope hugged his raincoat closer, shivering. Shock, she realized.

  She watched in dread as Lyon tried repeatedly to get Will to respond and then to drag him out, but ordinarily Will outweighed him by at least thirty pounds and in these circumstances that might as well be a hundred. As she concluded that she had to get back down there to help him, the truck turned into a fireball throwing Lyon yards back into the pasture.

  Only yards down the slope, Hope froze clamping her hand against her mouth. Dear God, no! Not Lyon, too! she thought.

  Amazingly, he scrambled to his knees and tried to reach into the truck again, but the flames forced him back—and that’s what saved his life.

  As firemen raced past her, two dragging a hose, another explosion flung Lyon even farther back.

  Hope ran and stumbled behind EMTs to reach him. By the time she did, the EMTs were helping him up toward the street. They stopped and discreetly stepped aside and looked away as she and Lyon stared at each other. Then with a sob, Hope slumped against him. He quickly gathered her toward him, supporting her with his good arm.