Redwood Bend

Twelve



The phone didn’t ring again for Katie, not that she expected it to. She did have this wild and uncontrollable wish that Dylan would call her every day or several times a day, to have him say he’d been a fool to leave her as he had, to promise to be back to see her because he couldn’t stay away. She wouldn’t even consider it, of course. She would say, Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… That she wanted to see him, that went without saying. But she wouldn’t take that chance again. It couldn’t possibly make the whole thing hurt less.

She had a few shameless problems over the following week. She couldn’t stop herself from going to the grocery store in Fortuna and lingering in the magazine aisle and at the checkout, looking for a familiar face. He was still an item, it appeared, though there didn’t seem to be any more kissing on the front pages. It was hard not to buy those papers, bring him home with her, but she resisted valiantly. Still, she kept the ones she had, tucked away in the trunk that held other keepsakes.

She had read and reread the articles, however. It was so like twenty years ago when her Teen magazine was shredded from use. One story said that Dylan had been living on his famous grandmother’s Montana estate. Wow. You’d think he could afford jeans without holes in the knees, right?

She cried some, but not malignantly. She knew her twinkle was gone. In fact, she just didn’t feel quite right—the whole ordeal had robbed her of appetite and unsettled her eating and sleeping patterns. No big surprise there—that’s why the term divorce diet had been invented. Katie really didn’t have weight to spare, however. If Dylan made her gaunt and thin in addition to everything else he’d done, she was really going to be pissed off.

She tried to push herself to spend a little more time with people, even if they did want to know what was wrong. Jack Sheridan always asked if she was feeling any better, which implied he knew all the reasons she wasn’t feeling that great. She forced a smile and said, “Much. Thanks.”

She sat with Leslie and her young neighbor, Nora, on Leslie’s front porch and talked about everything from bad haircuts to having children and she found she could open up to Nora. Though young, she seemed so worldly. She had two little girls, nine months and two years, and was not only a single mom but a never-married single mom who had escaped a brutal relationship. Even though Katie had lost her husband to a war, she was not oblivious to the challenges Nora had faced. And it was Nora who said, “Reverend Kincaid really helped me get on my feet after I’d been dumped here without a dime to my name. Now I have two part-time jobs and can take my kids to both of them if I have to—I work at the clinic with Mel Sheridan and at the school with Becca Timm, the teacher, and some other mothers. But the most important thing is how practical and nonjudgmental Reverend Kincaid has been. I was very reluctant to go talk to a preacher after all the horrid things I’d done to get myself into my own mess.”

Even with that glowing endorsement, Katie didn’t feel inclined to seek counseling from the church. She was a little concerned about how the good minister might react to the fact that one of the things she grieved was the best sex of her life.

“I see him with his wife,” Leslie said. “I have a feeling he’d be sympathetic. He looks at her like a starving man looks at a rib roast.”

Katie giggled.

“You look like you could use a little milkshake or something,” Leslie suggested. “Has this whole thing caused you to lose weight?”

“Possibly a pound or two, but don’t worry. I’ll gain it right back.”

“Aren’t you eating?”

“My appetite is a little off, but what do you expect? It’ll come back. Soon, I think, since I’m starting to hate him.”

“Really?” Leslie asked with a bit of excitement.

“Yes, really. What the hell was he thinking, telling me he doesn’t date women with children because he’s never going to be a family man, then not only dating me but shtupping me all the time. Did he really think I was taking him seriously? Wouldn’t any woman think he’d shifted his thinking? What a fool!”

“Fool?” Leslie asked.

“If he’s not going to get involved, maybe he shouldn’t get involved. Hmm?” she asked, lifting a brow.

“Novel concept,” Les agreed with a grin.

“Someone was thinking with his dick,” Katie said, bringing a burst of laughter from both Leslie and Nora. “I was pretty hurt and lonely but I’m getting angry.”

“I think I like where this is going,” Leslie said.

“He ought to be ashamed of himself. At least I was sincere on all fronts. In for a penny, in for a pound. The jerk.”

“You have a lot of your brother in you, Katie,” she said. “Hungry?”

“Actually I am a little hungry. You have any cookies?”

Even a little bit of man-hate didn’t completely restore her appetite. But then, fretting and feeling emotionally gutted didn’t connect up to that good old robust habit.



It was a relief to see how well Conner and Leslie fit into the town; they had clearly found their place. And that helped Katie see this as a good place to raise her sons, even without a husband.

The second week in July passed and the weather was about as steamy as it was going to get in the mountains—a hot eighty degrees. After driving the boys to summer program, she headed for Fortuna. First she went to the grocery store’s news rack and, thank God, Dylan Childress wasn’t groping anyone for the paparazzi today. Then she went to the pharmacy aisle where she grabbed a pregnancy test. She didn’t think it possible, but she just hadn’t felt well and couldn’t imagine it was all grief. She picked one up. Fifteen dollars? she thought in amazement. And who knew how accurate it was. She picked up a second for twenty-one dollars. And a third for seven and a fourth for twelve and a fifth for nineteen. “I’ll send him a bill,” she said aloud, and she walked to the checkout, head held high.

Realistically, Katie thought her period was overdue because of the stress, the sadness and upset of having a love affair go south without warning. She never kept track of her monthlies because she could feel it coming—a low backache, some cramps, tender breasts and bang—there it was. She thought she was at least a couple of weeks late, so a test to be sure she wasn’t pregnant made sense.

An hour later she was peeing on a stick. The directions said it would be more accurate first thing in the morning but it was more likely to give a false negative when it was positive than a false positive if testing was done in the middle of the day.

Ding, ding, ding.

“Nooooooo!” she wailed. “No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!”

But yes. It said yes. And this was completely impossible—there had always been protection, always. Not only was she responsible about it, Dylan was obsessive! He was the guy who didn’t want a family! God forbid he should end up paying the piper for all his screwing around!

She tried the seven-dollar test, though she didn’t much have to pee anymore.

Bingo.

“No, no, no!”

She went to the kitchen and drank water. And tea. And more water. Then she paced around her clearing, holding it all as long as she could. She made it a couple of hours. She peed some on the twelve-dollar stick, some on the nineteen-dollar stick and saved the last for the big one—the twenty-one-dollar stick. Then she lined them up on the small bathroom counter and stared at them.

Bing, bing, bing. We have a winner.

She sank down on the bathroom floor and dug her fingers into her hair. Oh, God, what in the world did I do to piss You off? Was it that no sex before marriage thing? It would be a more practical and effective lesson to have me eaten by a bear!

And she heard noises. Squeaking. Jingling of chains. The play set. She got to her feet and ran to the kitchen window. Yes, they were back. Not playing on the jungle gym, but merely cutting across her clearing—Mom and the triplets. As if they owned the place.

Katie lunged for her air horn and ran right onto the porch, fearless. She blasted the horn and watched as they turned as one to look at her. “Get out of here,” she screamed, giving the horn another long blast. “I am in NO mood!” And after an insulted grunt from Mother, they scuttled off into the brush.



Jack was just putting up clean glasses in the middle of the afternoon when the door to the bar opened. He looked up, half expecting his wife, who often took advantage of the quiet time before the dinner crowd showed up. But it was not Mel—it was the welcome face of a man he hadn’t seen in some time. “I’ll be damned,” he said with a big grin. He came around the bar and approached a young man, about thirty years old, and pulled him into a fierce hug, hammering his back with a fist. Then he held him away and said, “Hey, Tom! You home on leave?”

“I’m out,” Tom Cavanaugh said. “Six was enough for me. And my grandmother either has my help with the orchard or sells it. I vote for helping her. That orchard’s been in the family a long time.”

“How is Maxie?” Jack asked.

“Stubborn as ever, but as near as I can tell, tougher and healthier than you or me.”

“I haven’t seen you in a couple of years,” Jack pointed out.

“I deployed a second time—I think that was the convincer. Plus, I never made it any secret, I was made to take care of apples. It’s what I was raised to do.”

“And we couldn’t be happier about that. Let me find Preacher, he’ll want to say hello.”

Tom Cavanaugh grew up in Virgin River and had been a college student when Jack first arrived in town. It not only became a great refuge for him on his weekend and holiday visits home to Virgin River, but with his own plans to spend at least a few years in the military after college, he bonded with Jack and Preacher. Now at around thirty he was home for good, ready to take over the family business with his grandmother. Cavanaugh Apples.

He was halfway through his beer when Katie came into the bar.

“Well now,” Jack said. “Look who’s here. Katie Malone, meet one of the neighbors—Tom Cavanaugh. Tom just exited the Marine Corps and is home for good. Tom, Katie is new in town.”

“It’s definitely a pleasure,” Tom said, his eyes lighting up a bit as he looked at her.

“Likewise,” she said, putting out a hand.

“Glass of wine?” Jack asked.

“No, thanks, I’ll be picking up the boys in fifteen minutes. So, Tom, you live here in town?”

“No, out about three miles down the mountain. I grew up on an apple orchard and that’s where I’m probably going to be for the rest of my life.”

“You say that with a smile,” she observed.

“I like apples.”

“Tommy here was raised on ’em,” Jack said.

“Cavanaugh apples make some of my best pies,” Preacher put in.

“So, you’re looking a little better, missy,” Jack said. “Got a little color in your cheeks.”

“No surprise there,” she said. “Remember that bear? She’s been back and she acts like I’m renting space from her. I need a gun.”

“What bear?” Tom asked.

“A mother bear with triplets. They like my boys’ jungle gym.”

“Hmm,” Tom said. “I’ve seen her a couple of times. She’s been in the orchard, poking around, and she’s not a happy mother…”

“I have twin boys. I feel her pain. I think I need a gun.”

“Katie, it takes a lot of gun to stop a bear her size. Can you handle a rifle?”

“That’s one thing I haven’t gotten around to, but I’ve got a permit for a handgun. Not that I have a handgun—not to be redundant, but twin boys… I did buy myself a really awful air horn—she hated that. But she took her kids out of my yard. After she made a noise that sounded as near to a growl as it could be. I don’t think we’re friends.”

“I’ll call Fish and Game,” Tom said. “That little lady might have to be dealt with. Maybe relocated if she’s going to be trouble. I’d hate for her to get shot.”

“On the other hand, I’d hate to be eaten,” Katie said.

Tom Cavanaugh grinned handsomely. “Maybe your husband will show you how to handle a rifle. I knew a girl in the Marines as little as you and she’s a crack shot. It’s not always about size.”

Oh, man, Katie thought. That was pretty obvious. And boy did young Tom have a wrong number. Wouldn’t it be cruel to tell him, I’m a knocked-up widow with twin five-year-old boys—run for your life. “I’m widowed. I lost my husband in the war—Afghanistan.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said immediately, dropping his head. “If there’s any way I can help out—”

“That’s very nice, but my older brother is right here in town. He’s not off work yet today, but if I need him in a hurry, I can find him. And there’s Jack…”

“There’s always Jack,” Tom said. “But if there’s ever anything your brother or Jack can’t help out with…”

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for calling the game warden or whoever you’re calling. And nice to meet you. I’d better go grab those boys…”



When you’re the potential star in a movie, investors and distributors consider the weight of the cast in making their decisions about backing the film. Dylan had played the Hollywood game for three weeks, consenting to an interview about his consideration of a script, socializing with key people along with the producer and director and allowing himself to be photographed a few times. Lee Drake was still working on the contract, but he said it was moving in a very positive direction and shouldn’t be more than a couple of weeks before he could pronounce it satisfactory and ready to sign. Once that happened, there would be even more prepublicity buzz that would lend itself to making money for the movie. He’d eaten too much rich food, imbibed too much liquor, ran into family members altogether too often. Bryce had faded into that background but Blaine and Cherise seemed to coincidentally appear at some of the same restaurants he happened to be dining in. Thank God his number was changed so they couldn’t call him on top of all that.

He smiled as much as he could, but he hated it. At least the social aspect. He wasn’t accustomed to that lifestyle anymore.

There was one exception to his discontent—he had been spending a little time with his grandmother. He filled her in on all the details that led to his reading of the script and negotiating of a contract. “Lang said that while business is still down compared to previous years, he has bid on a few charters and has rented out planes here and there—so they’re hanging in there. With Sue Ann’s help, they can manage Childress Aviation while I’m here working. Stu is minding the store, taking care of the runway, maintenance, fueling, that sort of thing. I need to get back there and get things stabilized before I commit to any kind of filming schedule.”

“This is all so unnecessary…unless it’s what you absolutely want.”

“It’s completely necessary,” Dylan said.

“You’re my only living heir,” she reminded him. “And I’m loaded.”

“I make my own way if I can,” he said. “For all I know, you’ll get pissed off at me for some reason and give it all to your cat. Then where would I be?”

“I don’t have a cat…”

“Yet…”

It wasn’t exactly an argument; it was more of an examination of boundaries. He appreciated her in many ways, was grateful for all she’d done for him, understood that after all her many years of hard work she was more than a little comfortable. But she was seventy-six. With any luck she would live to be a hundred and six. Besides, these were the boundaries she’d pounded into his head during their retreat to Payne, that he wasn’t a little god who should have his way paid just because of some sense of entitlement.

She taught him to get over himself.

“I have only a couple of concerns about doing a movie,” he said. “One is that I’ll enjoy the acting and despise all the ancillary bullshit, not the least of which is my mother, stepbrothers and -sisters and half brothers and sisters moving in on me with requests. I don’t want to get hooked, which will have me putting up with that kind of B.S. again and again. And the other is you thinking it’s a mistake.”

She shook her head. “First of all, I think you’re past being the vulnerable kid star who doesn’t really understand what’s happening. Second, I’m an actor,” she said. “I still work because I love it and also despise a lot of the ancillary bullshit. I do it because I want to. Millions of people who are trying to just get a part in a commercial would kill me to have a tenth of the opportunity I have had, and believe me, I don’t take that for granted. But, Dylan, when I decide to take on a part, I’m happy. If this makes you unhappy, find another way.”

“It’s probably going to be six months of shooting,” he said. “And it’s a frightening amount of money.”

“How are you handling the family?” she asked.

“I’ve said no, I’ve changed my cell number, I’m ignoring them, but I admit, they make it hard. They’re everywhere, it seems.”

“And your mother?”

“Cherise is the hardest to ignore…” She was his mother. He hated her and loved her. That she would use him was so painful. And so predictable.

“Yes, I can imagine,” Adele said. “So, when do you leave for Montana?”

“In a few days. I’ll fly back to Northern California where I left my bike. I’ve decided to rent a truck and haul the bike home. After the last few weeks, I don’t think I’m up to a long-distance ride on the Harley.”

“How long will the drive take you?” she asked.

“A couple of days,” he said. “But I have a little unfinished business in Humboldt County…”

She lifted a thin, meticulously honey-colored brow and said, “Indeed?”

Oh, indeed.

Dylan had to see her once more. Katie. She didn’t want him, he got that. He’d called her, given her the new number, asked her to call and she hadn’t—he got the message. His own fault, he admitted. And she didn’t think their lives matched; didn’t want to get mixed up with some Hollywood kid and he couldn’t blame her. But it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel complete. “There’s a girl,” he told Adele. “She doesn’t want to be involved with an actor. Actors have rotten reputations for little things like fidelity. But I like her. I’m going to give her one more chance to reject me. I just haven’t suffered enough yet.”

“Listen, Dylan, there are lots of ordinary families who grapple with lousy relationships and plenty of actors who marry for the long-term, quite happily.”

“I know. I just want to stop in Humboldt County and see her, make sure she’s doing fine, that she feels the same way she did when I left—that she isn’t interested. Because I think if we had a little time…”

But they didn’t have time.

No matter how hard it was, no matter how tempted he was by her, he had to try to make her understand what he was feeling. He wasn’t just some irresponsible pretty boy. A gentleman would find a way to say, “You’re important and I’m going to miss you.” To leave as though nothing that happened between them mattered, that was just wrong. He was going to fix that. Even if he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

Then he’d go back to Payne, lock down the little airport, leaving Lang, Sue Ann and Stu in charge, and he’d go make a movie. Why not? He’d save his company and he’d do it himself, not the way his extended family would have done it, not by taking handouts.

First mission—see Katie and apologize for abandoning her on a moment’s notice.

He dreaded it.

He couldn’t wait.

He was scared to death.

When he got back to Humboldt County a couple of days later, he rented a truck, loaded his Harley in the back and drove to Virgin River. He stopped off at Jack’s for a beer and a meal, killing time and bolstering his courage before facing her. He was afraid if she cried he’d never be able to leave, to do what he had to do. If she was furious with his unannounced appearance, it might take him a lifetime to convince her he wasn’t a low-life loser to treat her as he had and he’d never be able to leave her. If she threw her arms around him…yeah, he’d never be able to leave her.

He had a second beer and barely touched his dinner.



Katie visited Mel Sheridan, the friendly neighborhood midwife, who confirmed what she already knew—pregnant. In addition to an appointment for an ultrasound in Grace Valley to determine an accurate due date and a bunch of vitamins, Mel insisted on running a battery of tests for STDs. This was a very sensible precaution under the circumstances.

“Failed condom?” Katie asked Mel. “Seriously?”

“It’s been known to happen,” Mel said. “Or maybe brief contact before or after the condom… Whatever it was, Katie, it’s the real deal. Do we need to have a discussion of your options?”

“What options?” Katie asked.

“Are you planning on having the baby? Because I don’t—”

“Yes,” Katie said without hesitation.

“And the father?” Mel asked.

“Long gone,” Katie said.

“I’m sorry. I take that to mean he doesn’t know?”

Katie shook her head.

“Do you want him to know?”

“What’s the difference?” she asked with a shrug.

“There’s the issue of financial support,” Mel said. “The only time I don’t recommend pursuing that is in cases of abuse or neglect or… Katie, you didn’t make this baby alone and you don’t have to shoulder all the responsibility alone. And there’s the fact that he deserves to know, unless telling him endangers you or the child.”

She took a deep breath. Dylan was passionate about not wanting children, but he was a good man. But what kind of father would a man like that make? Probably just an absent one. She was better off on her own. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I appreciate your help.” Then she bit her lower lip—but he was wonderful with her boys.

“If there’s anything I can do…”

“I don’t think there’s anything more right now.” Because she was going to tell her brother and Leslie. It was early, yes. And maybe it being early, Conner would stop twitching by the time she began to show.



A couple of days later, Katie asked Leslie and Conner if they could come out to the cabin after work for a beer. They sat on the porch and kept an eye on the monkeys on the swing set. Katie had tea while Leslie and Conner had cold beer.

“It really is beautiful out here,” Leslie said. “So peaceful.”

“I’m going to need something that’s not in the woods, I think,” Katie said.

“I was afraid you might be nervous out here,” Conner said. “You can’t see your neighbors, the boys are attracted to the forest and could get lost, you had a bear wandering around here…”

Do it just like a Band-Aid, Katie thought. Rip it off, get it over with. “I’m pregnant.”

They both just looked at her in stunned disbelief.

“Talk about a conversation stopper,” she said. “Total accident. Obviously my protection failed. But it is what it is. So, my timeline for finding a job, a house in a regular neighborhood with neighbors, near whatever school we decide on just got a lot shorter. Of course, I’d like it to be close to you guys, but I understand there just might not be anything available in your neighborhood. Who do you think is the best person to talk to about that? About available housing?”

They both just stared at her for a moment. Finally it was Conner who said, “Pregnant.”

“Yep. Of course not very—it’s early. I don’t have an official due date because I’m so bad about keeping track of things, but there’s only been one…” She cleared her throat. “It’s early. That explains not feeling very well for the past couple of weeks…” That, and a battered heart. “But there was no point in waiting to tell you. Hopefully by the time I start feeling better you’ll stop reeling from the news and maybe the boys and I can find a more suitable place to live before the start of school. Before I get, you know, enormous. Because I’m going to have to hunker down and nest. I think I’ll be due around March first next year. But that’s just a guess. And if there’s a God, it’s only one.”

Conner leaned toward her, elbows on his knees. “Katie…”

“There’s not a whole lot more to say, Conner. As you know, it was one-hundred-percent consensual, even though it wasn’t planned. And yes, I’m on my own. I know it’s asking a lot, that I’ve already asked too much of you, but I hope you’ll be supportive. I’ll take care of myself, I promise. I just want your emotional support, that’s all.”

Leslie put her hand on Conner’s forearm. “Of course we’ll do everything we can, Katie. Anything you need.”

“He doesn’t know?” Conner asked.

“There’s no point, Conner. This was just a stop for Dylan and he’s moved on. Dylan was not cut out to be a family man.”

“Fine,” Conner said with his teeth locked together in the back of his mouth. “That’s fine. But you have to tell him. He can write a check. You shouldn’t have to carry the whole load.”

“Let’s not go there yet,” she said. “It might not seem so practical when he demands joint custody or something. I’d like some time to think about all the possible repercussions. And if it’s not too much to ask, can we keep this between us for now?”

“Are you all right, Katie?” Leslie asked.

“Oh, besides that tired-all-the-time thing and getting a little green around the gills sometimes, I’m the picture of health. I’ll admit I’m a little upside down emotionally, but that’ll pass. And jeez, Conner, at least he didn’t die. Huh?”

Conner’s fierce expression didn’t ease for a long time, but just the same Katie forced the conversation to houses, taking delivery of stored household goods from her old house in Sacramento, possible jobs Katie might be able to handle while pregnant. Conner was still kicking around the idea of a hardware store, smaller than the one they owned in Sacramento, but if he did open one nearby, that would solve a lot of problems.

As Conner and Leslie were leaving, Conner pulled Katie into his arms and held her close. “You never have to ask me to stand by you. No matter what happens in our lives, we always stand by each other.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

When they left, Katie pulled the boys inside and fixed them grilled cheese sandwiches, which they wolfed down in what seemed like seconds. Then she asked them to go to the loft and either watch movies or play quietly. “Mommy needs a nice soak in the tub.”

The boys exchanged concerned glances.

“Just a soak,” she assured them with a little smile. “And do not go outside!”