“I appreciate that, Brad,” I finally said when I could get a breath in.

  “I'm not going to try to persuade you to get back together with me,” he added. “I should have been there for you when you had the miscarriage. I'm so sorry you lost our baby alone. I'm trying to forgive myself, but that's the heaviest weight.”

  I was pretty sure he meant it, but it hurt to hear. I steeled myself and took a quiet breath, keeping my tears in check. “Thank you.”

  “Still no dinner?”

  Of course, he had to push a little. “No, I appreciate the phone call. I appreciate the apology. I think you need to figure this out on your own. I can't be there for you for this. I can tell you that I care about you, and I always will. You can know that I am cheering you on in the background.”

  I swallowed, and it hurt. Even though I told myself I'd already said goodbye to Brad, letting go of Brad when he wasn’t drunk or hungover and in denial about his issues was different. There was a finality to it that hadn't existed before.

  “Thank you, Hallie. Thanks for even answering the phone,” he said somberly.

  “Of course. If I see you, I'll always be glad to see you. Stay in that program and don't start another relationship just to escape.”

  His chuckle was dry. “You know me well, Hallie.”

  “I know I do. You can do this. I believe you can.”

  “I've been sober for eight months now.”

  I almost dropped the phone. “Wow,” I finally said. “I'm impressed. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I am. It's not easy, but I’m trying.”

  “You take care, Brad.”

  “You too, Hallie. If you ever need me, just call.”

  “Thank you.” I managed to keep my voice level even though I knew I’d never call him.

  When I hung up the phone, I started crying. It felt like a dam had suddenly broken open in my chest. I cried and cried in a way I hadn't cried since the first few months after the miscarriage, which had been years ago at this point. At first, I'd been numb, just trying to put one foot in front of the other and get through each day. I’d managed only the required tasks—breathing, brushing my teeth, taking showers, getting dressed, working, pasting on a polite smile at gallery showings and jobs for photo shoots. Those actions had been the scaffolding that had held me up when everything felt like it was falling apart inside. The simple act of living was a Hail Mary pass of hope when emotionally it hurt to be alive. Maybe after six months or so, the veil of numbness started to lift, and I’d cried a lot at night when I was alone.

  I’d been angry, furious, and grieving. Right around then, they discovered my first ovarian cyst and then the next and the first surgery and so on and so forth. Brad calling tonight brought it all rushing back.

  I cried to the point I was hiccupping. My phone rang again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hallie

  I sighed, swiping the heels of my palms across my cheeks before glancing down at the screen. My brother's name flashed.

  I tapped the screen to answer. “Hey, Darren,” I said, hoping my tears weren't obvious in my voice.

  “Hey, are you crying?” he asked immediately.

  I rolled my eyes, grateful he couldn't see me. “No,” I lied. “I just came in. It's windy out.”

  “Ah,” he replied. “Risa said you wanted to talk to me.”

  I silently groaned. I’d asked Risa to let Darren know I wanted to chat. I was grateful she’d given him the pregnancy news to give him time to adjust. I hadn’t asked her to keep the news to herself because I doubted Risa could keep a secret like that from my brother.

  “Yeah,” I said, thinking it was just going to be that kind of day. “Well, like Risa told you, I’m pregnant.”

  The line went so quiet, I prompted, “Darren, are you there?”

  “Yeah, I'm here,” he said, his tone sharp. “Risa told me. Is this good news or bad news?”

  “It's good news.”

  “Congratulations then,” he said.

  I could practically picture my brother's face. He wouldn't know how to reply. He did know about my reproductive issues, so to speak. Risa had come to stay with me after my miscarriage, and they both knew about my surgeries.

  “I'll just give you all the details,” I forged ahead. “No, I haven’t been in a serious relationship. This is completely unexpected. We used condoms. The father is stepping up. He wants to be involved, and I'm having the baby.”

  Darren fell silent again. I thought he was probably clenching his teeth because I knew my brother well. He liked when things stayed neat and tidy in life. I was not neat and tidy, or rather, this situation wasn't. While he appreciated my photography, he didn't appreciate me working as a freelancer. He worried about my benefits, my stability, my income, and so on.

  “You'll be glad to learn the father is a firefighter. He's a hotshot out of Willow Brook.”

  “Okay?”

  “Sheesh, I thought you’d be glad to hear that. Doesn’t that mean he's stable?”

  “Well, no, not necessarily,” Darren countered.

  “Why not? He's got a full-time job and I'm sure he has good benefits.”

  “Probably. But hotshot firefighting isn’t the most stable career. It's pretty risky.”

  “You do it,” I retorted.

  While my brother was a police chief, he was also trained as a firefighter and helped out in a pinch with the crews down in Diamond Creek on occasion.

  “Fair enough. I'm sorry if that came out a little judgmental.”

  “Just a little,” I replied, my tone dry. I loved my brother, but he could play the stereotype like nobody else when it came to being a little overprotective.

  “You have to admit this is a lot of news for me to absorb.”

  “I will definitely agree with that.”

  Darren chuckled, and I could hear Risa’s voice in the background. “What did Risa say? Did she tell you to be nice?” I teased.

  “Yes,” he muttered, sounding chastised. “I thought you were about to schedule surgery.”

  “Yeah, I was, and that's something to consider later. Right now, I'm pregnant, and the baby is healthy. Everything's going very well. I really want this to be okay, Darren.” Tears were salty in my throat.

  “I know, and I know you're worried,” he said, his tone softening.

  “My doctor is great, and I'm just going to hope it will be okay because that’s all I can do.”

  “I hope so too. Do you mind giving me this guy's name?”

  “Oh, my god, Darren. You can't look him up,” I ordered even though I'd been planning to ask my brother to look him up if I hadn't been able to track him down myself. “Come on, you know they did a background check on him. He's a hotshot firefighter.”

  “How did you meet this guy, Hallie?”

  There was no way in hell I was about to fess up to those details with my older brother.

  “Look, I met him when I was out one night. One of his friends vouched for him,” I explained.

  “And you know his friend well?” my suspicious brother pressed.

  Okay, so I’d only met Delilah twice. Maybe I’d been in her presence for a half an hour, tops. I wasn't going to go into that with my brother. It made me feel small, ridiculous, and foolish. I didn’t need to tumble into a vortex of negative feelings. I was having this baby and hoped and prayed the universe had slipped me a good card after a few shitty ones in the deck of life.

  I heard Darren take a deep breath and realized I hadn’t responded yet. “Darren, calm down. I'm not dating an alcoholic anymore,” I said flatly, well aware of how he’d felt about Brad and that disaster of a relationship.

  “I guess that's a good point. But do you know this guy's not an alcoholic?”

  I didn't, but I was pretty sure he wasn't. I was hyperaware of the signs of someone who drank too much. Chase hadn’t even missed a beat at his choice to abstain from alcohol while I did during my pregnancy. “I don't think so,” was all I could muster.

  “What’s his name?”

  I bit back a sigh. It wasn’t like I could hide this information from Darren. “Chase Mills. He’s from Willow Brook, Alaska. He grew up there. He has one sister, his mother passed away, and his father still lives in Willow Brook. As I said, he's a hotshot firefighter on one of the crews there.”

  “That's enough information. I'll see what I can find out,” my brother replied.

  “Don't do anything weird, Darren,” I ordered through gritted teeth.

  “I'm not going to do anything weird. Just because he has a respectable job doesn't mean he's a respectable guy. Hell, I know plenty of cops who have their own records. Just let me check on him. You’re having a baby with this guy.”

  “I am.” I wanted to feel confident and positive about this. I wanted to will this pregnancy to go well.

  “I know Rex Masters up there. He's the police chief in Willow Brook. I'm going to give him a call. He'll give me the off-the-record scoop.”

  “Fine,” I muttered, knowing I couldn’t stop my brother.

  “When did you tell Risa?”

  “Oh, my god! She told you, so why does it matter? I didn’t ask her to keep it a secret, so I’m guessing she told you right off.”

  Darren's chuckle was warm. “She wants to talk to you, so I’ll hand the phone over. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “If I find out anything—”

  I cut him off. “You'll tell me. Thanks for doing something I didn't even ask.”

  He was grumbling as he passed the phone to Risa.

  “Hey, girl,” she said as soon as she got on the line.

  “Hey. How's he looking? Tense and worried?”

  She laughed. “He'll be fine. He's still adjusting to the news. How's it going with Chase?”

  “Well, we had dinner.”

  “How did that go?”

  “He stayed the night.”

  “Oh, so it went well then?”

  “That's one way of putting it,” I replied, my cheeks burning up.

  Her sly laughter filtered through the line. “Let me know how your doctor's appointment goes. If you need anything—”

  “I know. You'll be there.”

  “Of course, I will. We're family. Cell phone fist bump.”

  I laughed, lifting my fist in the air and tapping it at an imaginary fist. “Talk soon, all right?”

  I set my phone down and leaned back, sliding my hand over my belly. I kept waiting to feel movement. On occasion, I did, but it was subtle. My doctor kept telling me not to worry too much.

  But still, I worried.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chase

  “What do you think?” Rhys Cannon asked.

  I leaned back, adjusting my earbuds and drumming my fingertips on the kitchen table. I was having my second conversation with my half brother.

  “I'd love to come down there,” I finally said.

  I wasn’t sure “love” was the accurate word, but I was willing to try to build this bridge to my half siblings. It was probably the only way I could somehow get to know the father who had passed away before I even knew he was my father.

  “It's an open invitation. Our family owns plenty of properties down here. You can have one of the guesthouses all to yourself. That way, we won't crowd you,” Rhys explained. “I have to admit, there are a lot of us.”

  “No shit,” I said with a dry chuckle.

  I had seven—seven!—half siblings. It was enough to wrap my brain around that, but even more complicated, my biological father's family was wealthy. Seriously wealthy. I thought about my friend Archer, who’d turned out to be my cousin, and how he’d assured me my newly discovered family was a good bunch.

  “I swear we're not awful,” Rhys continued. “We might be a little annoying. You can ask Archer. You guys grew up together, right?”

  “We went to elementary school together before his family moved. It's good to have him back in town.”

  “Archer’s a good guy,” Rhys commented.

  “He is,” I agreed.

  I sensed Rhys wanted this to work out. But we didn't know each other.

  “Well, you know where to reach me. I've texted you everybody's phone number. You can call any of us at any time. If it'd be more comfortable for one of us to come there and meet on your turf, I’m happy to do it.”

  “I know. I just need to figure out the timing.”

  “All right. Talk soon.”

  “You got it.”

  We ended the call, and I took a deep breath. Fuck. This was weird. My relationship with my mother was complicated even after her death. She had been this bright force. I’d desperately wanted to please her when I was little, but there was no pleasing her. She was flighty with a hard edge and a wildness to her. As an adult, I could see how my father fell for her and probably how my biological father fell for her. She could be charming beyond belief.

  Yet whenever I thought of her, there was a sense of emptiness, of always reaching for something that was never there. After she’d passed away, I tried to accept that the love I’d always chased after from her was never going to be caught. Then come to find out she'd lied to me, my father, and my sister for my entire life. Because of that lie, I lost the chance to even know my biological father. I felt conflicted that I even wanted to know who I was because I genuinely loved my dad. He was the father of my heart and my soul.

  My eyes lifted to the clock mounted above the kitchen doorway. I was about to be late for dinner with my dad.

  “So what’ll it be?” the server asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between my dad and me.

  “Gracie, I think I'll take that salmon burger. You promise it's good?” my dad asked.

  Gracie clucked as she nodded. “Of course, it's good.”

  “All right, I’ll go with that.”

  “I'll take the same,” I added. “I'd also like those sweet potato fries, the spicy ones.”

  “Oh, good lord, don't give me those. I want the plain fries,” my dad chimed in.

  Gracie cast him a smile. “I know you don't like spicy. I'm amazed you'll even try a salmon burger.”

  “Of course, I'll try salmon. I'm Alaskan born and bred.”

  She chuckled. “Anything to drink, guys?”

  “I'll take a pint of the house draft,” I replied.

  “Same.” My dad nodded.

  Gracie smiled between us. “Like father, like son.”

  My dad winked at her as she hurried away.

  “You just can't not flirt,” I commented dryly.

  He winked at me. “I've known Gracie since she was in diapers. That wasn’t flirting.”

  Just then, Rex Masters paused by the table with his wife, Georgia.

  “Hey, Rex,” my dad said.

  I smiled up at him. “Good to see you, Rex. How's it going, Georgia?”

  Her eyes twinkled with her smile. “Pretty good.”

  “Having a father-son dinner?” Rex asked.

  I felt a little twist in my heart. Ever since I’d learned the truth about my family, it felt as if someone had shafted a thin knife in my heart. Not deep enough to kill me, just deep enough to hurt like hell.

  My dad and I usually had dinner every other week or so. It wasn't a hard and fast schedule. We’d always had a tight relationship. My father hadn’t even known the truth either, and it didn’t bother him. He didn't even give a damn. He’d asked more than once, “Why does it change anything? I'm your father in every way that matters.”

  It explained a lot about my mom. But then again, maybe not really. It wasn't as if her lying was a shock. She went through most of her life lying and charming.

  “Yep,” my dad was saying. “Just like you and Cade.”

  Cade and I had grown up together. With his father the police chief in Willow Brook and Cade one of the superintendents on one of the hotshot crews at Willow Brook Fire & Rescue, I saw them both almost daily.

  “How's your grandbaby?” my dad asked.

  A wide smile cracked across Rex's face. “Right as rain.”

  “Being a grandpa suits him,” Georgia said.

  “Well, doesn't being a grandma suit you?” my dad teased.

  She smiled warmly. “Sure does. It's the best of both worlds. We get to fuss over them, love them, and spoil them, but we also get to sleep through the night.”

  My dad chuckled, and I thought about the fact that he was going to love being a granddad.

  “Well, we're heading home,” Rex commented. “Just stopped to say hi. Good to see you two.”

  “Same. You coming to cards this week?” my dad asked.

  Rex nodded. “You bet.”

  An older group of men in town had been playing cards together for decades. They alternated locations and kept the betting pool low. “Next Wednesday, right?” Rex prompted.

  “You got it. My place,” my dad replied.

  At that, Rex and Georgia waved and started walking, pausing again to greet somebody at another table. A few minutes later, after our beers had been served, I took a breath, deciding to just dive right in.

  “Well, Dad, on the topic of being a grandparent,” I began.

  My dad's brows hitched up. “Yeah?”

  “I'm about to be a father.”

  “Come again?” my dad countered with a big smile. “I didn't even know you had a girlfriend.”

  “Well, uh, I didn't. There's no easy way to put this, but I met a woman four months ago. She's pregnant.”

  My dad chuckled, the sound low and raspy. “Well, well. It sounds like that was a good night.”

  “Seriously, Dad?” I countered with a groan.

  He rolled his eyes. “Do you know her well?”

  “No, not really,” I said honestly. “But she found me when she realized she was pregnant.”

  “I take it she's planning on keeping the baby.”

  “Yep. That's why she came to find me.”

  “Congratulations. How do you feel about it?”