Jessie's Child

Not a chance.

And he’s here for at least three months, maybe longer, she thought. A dull headache throbbed insistently and she rubbed her temples while her mind whirled with memories.

She’d last seen Zach in Missoula, miles away from Wolf Creek on the opposite side of the state. She’d been enrolled in the University of Montana’s law school; he was working in the campus Marine Recruitment Office while recovering from injuries received during an overseas assignment. Though she’d passed him on campus, they hadn’t exchanged even polite hellos until late one afternoon when they both happened to be at an off-campus coffee shop. They were waiting in line for lattes when what turned out to be a disgruntled ex-employee entered, drew a gun and began to shoot. The situation was chaotic and frightening, and afterward, Jessie was shaken, terrorized by the violence. Zach had bought her dinner, then walked her across campus to her apartment, where they’d come together in a primal, life-affirming reaction to the stress and danger. Jessie had lost track of the number of times they made love but sometime during the night, she realized that the foundation of her world had shifted.

The next morning she’d been appalled at herself for sleeping with Chase’s enemy. She’d said hurtful things that she knew she’d never forget, and in anger, both agreed the night had been a mistake. Zach left for the airport, bound for Afghanistan to rejoin his military unit.

That cataclysmic night had consequences neither of them had anticipated when a home pregnancy test turned out to be positive a short month later. At first, Jessie couldn’t decide whether she should locate Zach and tell him their night together had had unexpected results.

The question had haunted her.

She’d spent the years since Chase went to jail vowing vengeance on the Kerrigans. Chase hadn’t come home immediately after he was released. Instead, he’d taken a job as a bounty hunter with an agency owned by the brother of a prison guard he’d befriended. Up until a year ago, Chase had lived in Seattle and during his infrequent visits home, he wasn’t the brother she remembered from her childhood. He seemed a hard and dangerous man employed in a violent business, his emotions locked behind an impenetrable wall. And it broke her heart. She was tortured by the guilt of betraying Chase by sleeping with the enemy. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her beloved brother that his nephew’s father was a Kerrigan.

But buried deep within her was the conviction that the night she’d spent with Zach had been more than an impetuous fling. Zach clearly hadn’t felt the same earthshaking connection she had. Was it likely he’d have even wanted to know she was pregnant?

She couldn’t imagine how she could have told her parents they’d have to share their first long-awaited grandchild with the family they hated. And how would they have felt about her baby, knowing despised Kerrigan blood ran through his veins? Jessie was convinced her parents and brothers would never purposely treat her child differently because of Zach’s family, but how could she be sure the feud between the families wouldn’t subconsciously color their view of her baby?

It took two long, sleepless weeks to reach a decision. In the end, she’d decided not to try to contact Zach but instead, she told her parents she’d married a fellow student in a quick Las Vegas wedding, only to divorce just as easily six weeks later. She confided the truth about the fictitious marriage only to her mother and even then, she didn’t reveal the identity of her baby’s father.

It had been a complicated plan but Jessie had thought it was necessary. And she’d told herself she would make the decision to tell Zach he was a father if the opportunity arose and if she thought he’d care, although she knew that wasn’t likely to ever happen. Zach had left Wolf Creek at eighteen and, as far as she was aware, he’d never been back.

After she’d finished law school and Rowdy was two years old, she’d returned to Wolf Creek to set up her law practice and build a life for herself and her son.

I may have to tell Zach about Rowdy at some point, she thought, but if I do, it’s not going to happen at dinner with his sister and my brother present.

Rachel and Luke’s marriage had created a bridge between the two families, over which various members of the McClouds and Kerrigans had cautiously crossed. Jessie genuinely liked Rachel but she couldn’t imagine her sister-in-law being pleased to learn that Jessie had kept it a secret that Rowdy was her nephew. Let alone how Zach would feel about the news.

The McClouds’ acceptance of Rachel didn’t extend to the rest of the Kerrigan clan. Jessie didn’t want to contemplate how her brothers might react if they learned Zach Kerrigan was Rowdy’s father. She’d refused to reveal anything about her son’s biological father beyond the tale of the nonexistent six-week marriage. After that conversation, Chase and Luke had made occasional caustic remarks about “the SOB who bailed when he found out Jessie was pregnant.” They’d been very careful not to make such comments in front of Rowdy, but they’d also refused to listen when she’d tried to persuade them that their interpretation was wrong.

She shuddered. Having her brothers learn a Kerrigan was “the SOB who bailed” would only make their reaction worse.

She wondered how much more difficult it would be to tell Zach.

If I decide to tell him, I’ll make an appointment to see him and do it in person. She didn’t relish the thought. Though she was convinced she’d moved on and put her feelings about that night behind her, she knew delivering the news about Rowdy wouldn’t be easy.

Would he be angry? She hadn’t a clue.

Probably not, she thought. Statistics prove a high percentage of men in America don’t have any interest in children beyond the act of conception.

Would he want to be involved in Rowdy’s life or would he choose to remain anonymous?

Ah, now that was the most important question, she realized. And the one that worried her most.

She could bear Zach’s anger and her parents’ disappointment in her; also, her brothers’ certain outrage and Rachel’s dismay. She’d been forced to make choices four years ago that impacted all of them and would pay the price for her decisions without flinching. But Rowdy was innocent. He didn’t deserve to be involved in an emotional fire-storm.

A swift rush of motherly protectiveness swamped her.

He’s my little boy, only mine. Jessie realized her hands were curled into fists, her entire body tensed as if ready for battle. She forced her fingers to straighten and took several deep breaths in an effort to relax.

Despite her fierce emotions, she knew her instinctive response was impractical. She was a lawyer, a member of the Montana Bar Association, and she was fully aware Zach had a right to visitation with Rowdy, if that’s what he wanted. Excluding Zach from their son’s life wasn’t legally possible.

That didn’t mean she had to like it.

She thrust her fingers through her hair, tugging the thick, heavy mass away from her temples where the dull headache still throbbed.

Worrying at this point was fruitless, she told herself. More likely than not, Zach would be gone before long, flying back to whatever part of the world was currently at war and needed his services as a munitions consultant.

She switched off the television and turned off the lights as she left the living room to walk down the hallway to her bedroom. A lamp glowed softly on the bedside table, casting shadows into the corners of the comfortable room. Jessie loved her little house and had spent hours sanding woodwork, painting walls and making it uniquely hers. The rest of the house reflected the reality that a three-year-old boy lived here but this room was her sanctuary. Here, she’d indulged herself with pale green silk curtains that matched the spread and pillow shams on the walnut four-poster bed. The bed had been her great-grandmother’s and, like the matching nightstands, bureau and oval mirror, its polished surface gleamed with years of loving care.

The quiet surroundings had always had the power to soothe and relax her but tonight the room didn’t calm her worries about Rowdy and Zach. Even after she’d showered, dressed in a cotton tank top and loose pajama bottoms, climbed into bed and switched off the lamp, her mind continued to whirl with all the possible ramifications of Zach’s return to Wolf Creek.

When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of Zach and the first time he’d come to her rescue. It was during the summer she was ten and he was already a tall, lanky teenager of fifteen….

The first summer after her grandfather died seemed longer and hotter than usual. Jessie and her best friend, Sarah, tried to keep cool by swimming in the stock pond and spending Saturday afternoons in the air-conditioned theater.

Following a movie one Saturday, Jessie and Sarah stopped at Muller’s Candy Shoppe before meeting Sarah’s mother at the library. They were contemplating a purchase when the string of bells hanging on the door jingled loudly and two teenage boys entered the nearly empty store.

“Well, well, if it isn’t a McCloud. Heard from your convict brother lately?”

Jessie stiffened at the jeering tone in Lonnie Kerrigan’s voice. Determined to ignore him, she resolutely stared at the glass case and the rainbow display of saltwater toffee inside. She wished Mr. Muller hadn’t stepped into the back room. The bell she could use to call him back was located at the far end of the counter by the cash register, too far away for her to reach.

“What’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue?”

He brushed past her, bumping her in the process.

“Don’t pay any attention to him, Jessie,” Sarah urged.

Jessie glanced sideways and saw that her friend’s eyes were fearful as she watched the blocky teenager on Jessie’s other side.

“Yeah, kid. Don’t pay any attention to me.” Lonnie leaned against the candy display, grinning with malicious enjoyment at Sarah’s concern.

“I won’t,” Jessie said, filled with hate and loathing for the bully. “You’re not worth it.”

“Is that right?” She heard the sneer in his voice. “All you McClouds are the same. You’re a little young, but I’m sure it won’t be long before your brother Luke joins Chase in jail.” He waved expansively at the interior of the candy shop. “I’m surprised you’re allowed in here without supervision. Wonder if Mr. Muller knows he’s got a future criminal in his store?”

Goaded beyond endurance, Jessie turned to face him, furious. “You’re a pig, Lonnie Kerrigan. You should be in jail, not Chase. You’re the criminal—you and your whole family!”

She glared up at him, daring him to do anything about her harsh words. At ten, she was several feet shorter than the seventeen-year-old and he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds. She didn’t care. Three months earlier, she’d watched as Chase was handcuffed and driven away from their grandfather’s funeral in a police car. She blamed Lonnie for her brother’s absence and she hated him with a depth and passion she’d never before felt in her short life.

A blond teenage girl standing near the door giggled at Jessie’s words and Lonnie flushed, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer, bending toward Jessie.

“You little bitch.”

Her mother would have washed his mouth out with soap for using that word. Jessie stuck out her chin and refused to back down.

He grabbed her arm and twisted. The pain was excruciating but Jessie wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead, she glared harder, blinking back tears.

“Let her go.”