Shameless (26 page)

P
IPPA COULDN'T BELIEVE
eleven days had passed without any word of Brian or Taylor's fate. Her grandfather was beside himself. Angus was in mourning. She was amazed at Aiden and Leah's continued dedication to the search. Neither of them seemed willing to give up. Both seemed convinced that
somehow,
although Pippa couldn't imagine how, Brian and Taylor had survived the fire.

“One of them is hurt,” Leah had speculated. “It has to be Brian. Otherwise, he could carry Taylor out. You wait and see. Both of them will be back with a story to tell.”

Pippa wasn't so sure. A thorough search of the burned area had revealed no sign of them. And eleven days was a very long time to be missing. If one of them was injured badly enough to keep them from moving around for that long, what were the chances that whoever was injured could have survived without professional medical attention?

Pippa covered the male arms that enfolded her in bed with her own and said, “It seems wrong to feel so deliriously happy when everyone else is so sad.”

“I have something to ask you, Pippa.”

“What is it?” she murmured, half asleep.

“Will you marry me?”

It was a heroic feat, but Pippa managed to turn her nearly seven-months-pregnant body over so she was lying flat on her back, her head elevated on a pillow so she could see Devon's face. “Say that again.”

He looked very serious as he leaned over to kiss her. Then he said, “Will you be my wife?”

“You want to marry me before the baby's born? It will have your last name if you do that.”

“I know,” he said. “It's what I want. You haven't answered my question. Will you?”

“Yes, my very dear friend. I will.”

Devon leaned down far enough to whisper to her belly, “Hear that, Sprite? You're not going to be a Grayhawk. You're going to be a Flynn.”

Pippa laughed. “She's going to be the spitting image of her mother.”

“
She?
It's a girl?”

Pippa nodded. “I found out when I was staying with my mother. I only tell you because there seems to be a dearth of little Flynn girls.”

“Connor has one.”

“Yes. And now
you're
going to have
two.
”

The dazzled, dumbfounded look on Devon's face made her laugh. Pippa kissed him sweetly and said, “Did I neglect to mention that twins run in my father's family?”

This book is dedicated to

Michael J. Ludvik,

a writer and prolific reader.

I owe a great debt to my friends Sally Shoeneweiss, Barb McCleary, Gloria Skinner, and Billie Blake Bailey, who keep me inspired and support me when I'm struggling to get words on the page, and my sister Joyce, for her advice on arranging commas and syntax.

I also want to thank my public relations and marketing assistant, Nancy November Sloane, who makes it possible to stay in touch with my readers and still write.

I want to thank you, the readers, for sharing your kind thoughts with me and making it easier for me to keep the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair so you'll always have another book to read.

And last, but by no means least, I want to thank my friends at Penguin Random House, who make my book read like a better writer than I am wrote it, put a stunning cover on it, and then sell it to devoted readers in great numbers. Gina, I appreciate all your support. Shauna, you have the patience of a saint and the perfect editorial touch. I could never do this without you. And Sarah, you are a blessing. Thanks for all your help.

Dear Faithful Reader,

While you're waiting for Brian and Taylor's story,
Surrender,
to hit the stands, I'll be looking forward to hearing your theories about what happened to them. I've included an excerpt from
Surrender
at the end of this book.

Those of you who've been reading my historical Mail-Order Brides series of Bitter Creek novels,
Texas Bride, Wyoming Bride,
and
Montana Bride,
will be delighted to know that I'll be writing the final book in the series,
Blackthorne's Bride
(Josie's story), next!

You can contact me, sign up for my e-newsletter, and enter contests through my website,
www.joanjohnston.com.
You can also like me at
facebook.com/​joanjohnstonauthor
, or follow me at
twitter.com/​joanjohnston
. I look forward to hearing from you!

By the way, if you enjoyed this novel, it's connected to more than thirty-five other books in my Bitter Creek series, which begins with my contemporary novels
The Cowboy, The Texan,
and
The Loner.
If you'd like to read more about Libby and North Grayhawk, check out
The Next Mrs. Blackthorne,
A Stranger's Game,
and
Shattered.

Enjoy!

Take care and happy reading.

Joan Johnston

Does your life
really flash before your eyes when you know you're going to die?
Taylor Grayhawk was a great pilot, but there was nothing she could do with both engines flared out. A whirlwind of fire had engulfed her Twin Otter as she flew over Yellowstone National Park dropping smoke jumpers to fight the raging inferno that had been burning for the past two weeks. She turned to stare over her shoulder at the single smoke jumper who hadn't made it out of the plane.

“You can still jump,” she said over the eerie rustle of the wind in the open doorway at the rear of the plane.

“Not without you,” the jumper called back.

“I don't have a parachute.”

“We can share mine.”

Taylor calculated the odds of getting to the ground hanging on to Brian Flynn by her fingernails—and whatever other body parts she could wrap around him. He was wearing a padded jump jacket and pants made of Kevlar, the material used for bulletproof vests. It was bulky, to say the least. She imagined herself falling—sliding down his body—into the flames below and shuddered.

“I'll take my chances on getting the plane to the ground in one piece,” she said, turning back to the control panel to see how much lift she could manage without the engines. Not much. She searched in vain for a meadow—any opening in the trees—where she might crash-land the plane.

She regretted leaving the ground without the spotter who usually came along to gauge the wind, fire activity, and terrain. He might have been able to steer her away from the catastrophic encounter with fire that had occurred.

Or maybe not. Maybe taking off without waiting for the overdue spotter had saved his life. She doubted anyone could have anticipated the sudden tornado of flame that had shot up hundreds of feet into the air from the forest below.

“This plane's headed straight into the fire,” Brian said from the doorway. “We need to jump now, while there's still time to hit a safe clearing. Get over here, Tag. Move your butt!”

The use of her nickname—from her initials, Taylor Ann Grayhawk—conjured powerful, painful memories. Brian had dubbed her with it when he was a junior and she was a freshman at Jackson High.

Taylor felt the plane shudder as the right wingtip was abruptly shoved upward by a gust of hot air, and knew that time was running out. In a voice that was surprisingly calm considering the desperation she felt inside, Taylor reported their position on the radio, along with the fact that she'd been unable to restart the engines.

“I'm putting us down in the first clearing I find,” she told the dispatcher.

“Roger,” the dispatcher replied. “Good luck.”

The problem was that she didn't see a clearing large enough to land in without going in nose first. Survival was questionable. Disaster seemed imminent.

Two words kept replaying in her mind: “What if…?”

What if their fathers, King Grayhawk and Angus Flynn, hadn't been mortal enemies? What if Brian's elder brother, Aiden, hadn't caught Brian making love to her after the junior prom? What if her fraternal twin, Victoria, hadn't made it clear that if Taylor didn't stay away from Brian, to her mind just one more of “those awful Flynn boys,” she would never speak to her again?

Brian had become a firefighter and married someone else. She'd become a corporate pilot and gone through several futile engagements. They were both free now, but Brian's divorce a year ago had left him so heartsore and gun-shy that he was likely never to fall in love again.

None of that mattered now. Very likely, she and Brian were going to die in the next few minutes. What made her heart ache was regret for what her life might have been like if only…

“Tag?”

She looked over her shoulder at the tall, broad-shouldered man who'd been forbidden fruit when they were teenagers. She'd run her fingers through his thick black hair, holding on tight as they made love. His piercing blue eyes had seen past her movie-star-beautiful, confident, blond-haired, blue-eyed exterior to the abandoned child inside who desperately wanted to be loved.

She'd grown up with an older sister as a mother, after her own mother had run off with one of her father's cowhands. Her wealthy father had been mostly absent, serving two terms as Wyoming's governor in Cheyenne while he left his four daughters back home at his ranch in Jackson Hole.

Because of the animosity between their families, she'd started out determined to seduce Brian Flynn—and dump him. It would be fair repayment for all the nasty things he and his three brothers had done to her and her three sisters. His heart was supposed to end up broken, not hers. She hadn't planned on liking him. Brian was the first boy to offer affection in return for the sex she'd been offering to any boy who gave her a kind look—and some whose looks weren't so kind—hoping to find someone who would care about her.

“I'm not leaving without you, Tag,” Brian said. “Get out of that seat and get your beautiful ass over here!”

Their eyes met, and she felt the past flooding back. All the things she should have done…and hadn't. All the things she shouldn't have done…and had.

The thought of a future with Brian almost had her rising. But there was too much water under the bridge. Or water over the dam. She'd been disappointed too many times by too many men. Some people are lovable, and some are not. She was just one of those people who wasn't destined to find a man who could love her. Brian Flynn had had his chance. She no longer believed in the possibility of any kind of happily-ever-after. Her life was liable to end in an altogether gruesome way.

“You go,” she said, turning back to peer through the windshield in search of the clearing she knew had to be there somewhere.

A moment later she felt a strong hand gripping her arm, yanking her out of her seat.

“I am not, by God, going to take the blame for leaving you behind, you stubborn brat!”

The plane shuddered, and the wings tipped sideways.

“Let me go!” she cried, reaching back toward the controls to attempt to right the plane. But he pulled her inexorably toward the door, which was already tilting upward at an angle that might keep them both from escaping.

Taylor jerked free and rushed back to her seat, grabbing the control column and bringing the plane back to level. She glanced over her shoulder and said, “Just go, Brian! Someone has to keep the plane steady so you can get out the door.”

“I'm not going anywhere without you, Tag. Get that into your head. So you can either join me in getting out of this plane, or we can both go down with it in flames.”

The Cowboy

The Texan

The Loner

The Price

The Rivals

The Next Mrs. Blackthorne

A Stranger's Game

Shattered

Sisters of the Lone Star Series

Frontier Woman

Comanche Woman

Texas Woman

Captive

After the Kiss

The Bodyguard

The Bridegroom

Texas Bride

Wyoming Bride

Montana Bride

Sinful

Shameless

The Barefoot Bride

Outlaw's Bride

The Inheritance

Maverick Heart

J
OAN
J
OHNSTON
is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of many historical and contemporary romance novels. She received a master of arts degree in theater from the University of Illinois and graduated with honors from the University of Texas School of Law at Austin. She is currently a full-time writer living in Colorado.

joanjohnston.com

Facebook.com/​JoanJohnstonauthor

@JoanJohnston