“The town, my mother, they love you.” Jake sighed. “They interfere, but they mean well.”

“I know.” Could the world just open up and swallow her? Please?

“Maybe it’s a good thing. The studio at my place… In case you’re pregnant,” he said slowly.

“I can be pregnant in San Francisco,” she ground out. She threw the pillow across the room.

“A baby needs a father.”

Her embarrassment turned to irritation. “I won’t let you manipulate me—trying to buy my design and everything.”

There was a shuffling and then, “Damn it. I have to go. But I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

“Are, too.”

“You’re impossible. We’ll discuss it as soon as I can call back.” With that, he clicked off.

“Jerk,” Sophie muttered into the empty room.

Sophie finished the designs for Willa’s Garden but neglected to redesign the golf course for the tribe. Jake didn’t call, and she told herself she was happy about that. The last thing she wanted was to fight with him about a baby that probably didn’t exist. Loni and Leila found an excuse each day to drop by and take her to lunch, and one day the three of them even rode horseback to a picnic spot overlooking Loni and Tom’s ranch. Loni patiently related tribal history, probably to nudge her into doing the paintings, while Leila blatantly brought Jake into every conversation, along with not so subtle reminders that if Sophie didn’t snatch him up, somebody would.

Sophie found herself wishing the little girl were hers. To love and protect.

Finally, she just couldn’t deal with her thoughts alone any longer. The voices in her head were starting to argue with one another. She called the one person in town who might understand. “Juliet? How about we meet for lunch?”

Chapter Seventeen

The Dirt Spoon diner smelled of grease, burgers, and home-cooked food. Sophie settled into the worn booth, careful to avoid the rip in the vinyl. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said after they’d ordered.

“I figured you’d want to discuss the art showing.” Juliet smiled and unfolded the paper napkin to place on her lap. Her loose dress and Celtic jewelry made her look like an Irish princess.

Sophie almost agreed—almost took the easy out. But it was time to grow a pair, as her uncle always said. “Actually, I, ah, just wanted to talk… I mean, you’re new to town, so am I, and I don’t really have, I mean, even at home, I don’t have—”

“A lot of friends?” Juliet asked, an understanding smile curving her lips.

Sophie sighed. Yeah, she sounded like a loser. But she’d never connected with people. Her mother had seen to that. “I don’t have many friends at all.”

“Me neither.” Juliet shrugged. “I’m glad you called me.” Her blue eyes lit up. “That took courage.”

More than she knew. “Everyone knows everyone in this town, and it seems like they all know what’s best for everyone else.”

“When somebody gives you directions, they always start with, ‘Turn left by the field where Sam Boseby’s horse died, and then right by the oak tree where Bobby Johnson fell and broke his leg two years ago…’”

Sophie laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “Exactly.”

A couple of men in the far booth argued loudly.

Sophie glanced around but couldn’t see them. Then they went quiet. Good.

Juliet sipped from a sweating plastic glass. “Jake is out of town?”

“Yes. He’s consulting on a trial in D.C.” Sophie traced her fingers over the scarred table. “His mom and daughter created a very cool art studio above his garage for me to paint.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Without telling him,” Sophie finished.

Juliet’s eyes widened. She covered her mouth, mirth filling her face.

“I know.” Heat spiraled into Sophie’s cheeks. “I thanked him on the phone.”

Juliet snorted and dropped her hand. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Sophie shook her head. “The poor guy had no clue what I was talking about.”

Juliet laughed harder. Finally, she took a deep breath. “This town, I’m telling you. They embrace you and dictate your life. Though that means they like you. It’s nice to belong.”

“I know. But even Jake is trying to push me into staying—and it’s not like he’s made any big declaration of love or anything.” As she said the words, the truth of her hurt slammed home. He wanted her to stay—only if she were pregnant.

Juliet sat back as the waitress delivered their club sandwiches and waited until the girl left. “Have you declared anything?”

Sophie stilled in bringing her drink to her mouth. “Um, well—”

“That’s what I thought.” Juliet took a bite and then swallowed. “Those Lodge men.”

“Speaking of whom. What’s up with you and the sheriff?”

Juliet flushed a pretty pink. “Nothing. I mean, he’s overbearing, bossy, and always around.”

“I think you’re protesting too much.” Sophie chuckled.

“No kidding.” Juliet quirked her lip. “But he’s my landlord, so I have to get along with him.”

“Your landlord?” Sophie took a sip of water.

“Yes. The Lodge-Freeze families own more real estate than you’d believe.” Juliet sighed.

That must’ve been what Dawn meant by family holdings. “Must be nice.” Sophie grinned. “Who knows, maybe I’ll sell a painting someday and then, ah, diversify.”

“Speaking of which, I saw how your eyes lit up about the art showing.”

Sophie blew out a breath. “I’d love to have a real art showing. To paint Montana and have people come and actually want to buy my work. It’d be a dream I hadn’t ever thought I’d get the chance to explore.”

“So you’re saying yes.”

Damn it. “I’m saying yes. But I’ll do it on my terms, and some of that may mean I take pictures and then paint in San Francisco.” At home. Even though it no longer felt like home.

“Fair enough.” Juliet glanced back as the men in the far booth got louder. “What’s going on?”

Sophie glanced up as Billy Rockefeller and Fred Gregton slid out of the far booth. “The guys from the Concerned Citizens for Rural Development Group seem to be having a disagreement.” Frowns lined both men’s faces. “And they’re dressed for, ah, war.”

The two men wore camo outfits and flak boots. Billy Rockefeller looked a lot more dangerous in the army outfit than he had in the fancy jacket.

He stopped at their table. “Ladies.”

Sophie made the introductions, and he shook Juliet’s hand. Fred hovered near the counter and didn’t approach.

Billy cleared his throat, his eyes piercing. “I heard the county commissioners were smart enough to deny your plan.”

Sophie cut her eyes to Juliet. “Good news travels fast.”

Billy nodded and shifted to reveal a gun in his waistband. “Then I heard the tribe is trying to buy your plan. I’d appreciate it if you refused to sell. We don’t need a golf course.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sophie’s breath scraped her throat as she eyed the gun.

His lip curled and he lowered his flushed face to hers. “I’ll do anything to save the environment, lady. Anything.”

Sophie saw red at his obvious intimidation tactic. Enough with people pushing her around. Her temper exploded. After grabbing a bottle on the table, she squeezed it in his face. Ketchup squirted out and spread over his forehead.

She gasped.

He growled and moved to grab her.

Juliet swung with her purse, smashing him in the face. He stumbled back toward the counter, where Fred caught him before he tripped.

Billy started to lunge forward when a sharp voice in the doorway snapped his name.

Everyone froze.

Quinn Lodge stalked up the aisle, his gaze taking everything in. “What’s going on, folks?”

Sophie gulped air and pointed to Billy. “He has a gun in his waistband.”

Billy snarled and stepped far enough away from her that Quinn’s shoulders relaxed. “I also have a permit, a fact the sheriff is well aware of.”

Quinn eyed Juliet and then Sophie. “Are you ladies all right?”

“Fine.” Juliet crossed her arms. “This was a little misunderstanding about ketchup. Right?”

Sophie swallowed several times. “Um, right.” Actually, she was the one who had committed battery, considering she’d doused the asshole. But he had tried to scare her, so it was probably all right. She glanced at Quinn. “Let’s not tell Jake.”

Quinn grinned. “Not a chance, Soph. Not a chance in hell.” He took in Juliet’s ketchup-covered purse with a raised eyebrow but didn’t say a word. Then he waited until the two men left before giving Juliet a hard glance and then sauntering out the door.

After lunch, Sophie drove into the city to make a purchase. There was no way she would buy a pregnancy test in town—the news would be all over within minutes.

The feeling of leaving home grew stronger as she pulled away from Mineral Lake and headed outside of Maverick County, the sharp peaks of mountains providing a shield from rushing winds.

After driving for an hour, she shivered as dark clouds gathered across the sky and figured she’d get back in time for a good storm. Lightning cracked across the sky, and a hard rain began to pelt the vehicle and she flipped on the wipers and lights. Her phone rang just as she pulled into Billings.

“Where are you?” Jake’s deep voice stirred something inside her she struggled to suppress.

“Running an errand. Are you back in town?” She was not miffed that he hadn’t called. Really. Though fury still rode her at his attempted interference in her life. With her job. With her baby that might or might not exist.

“Just got home.”

“Great.” She peered through the rain-soaked windshield for a drugstore.

“Do you want to meet for dinner?” The low timbre of his voice caused a fluttering in her lower belly that irritated her, pure and simple.

“No. I may be a while.” The lights of a store shone through the darkened night.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, Sophie. We worked twenty-hour days to finish the case up in a week.” His frustration came clear and sure through the line.

“No problem, Jake.”

“Sounds like a problem.” Silence sprawled across the line. “Where are you?”

“None of your business.” If she could take on crazy Billy Rockefeller, she could handle Jake.

“Excuse me?” Heat colored his words, even through the static. The wind lashed against her windows.

“You heard me. Nice offer you made my uncle. You’re not running my life.”

“Not trying to.” His voice dropped an octave.

“Good. Well, since we fired the Charleton Group, I’m sure that Uncle Nathan will sell you the design.”

“I assumed as much.”

“But Preston will be here working on it, not me.”

Several seconds of silence filled the line as Sophie turned into the fully illuminated parking lot. “No.”

“What?” She switched off the ignition.

“I said, no. The deal is for you to redesign the course. Not Preston. You designed the original course, the one that fits in well here. We want you to work with your design. Plus, I understand your uncle stands to lose quite a bit of money if that design isn’t used.”

“That’s blackmail.” Sophie’s temper stirred.

“No, it isn’t. It just makes sense to have the original designer alter the same course. Now, where are you?”

“Bite me, Jake.” She shut the phone with a decisive click and powered it down. Not the most mature response, but he deserved it. She squared her shoulders for courage and jumped into the rain to dash for the drugstore.

The small bag sat like a stone in her purse during a quiet dinner at a small diner just outside of Maverick County. When she finished eating and paid the check, she figured she’d stalled enough. She needed to find out now, because there was a fairly good chance Jake would be waiting for her at Mrs. Shiller’s.

She marched slowly into the small bathroom and dug into the bag. She opened the box and read the instructions. Not too difficult. With a sigh, she peed on the stick. Then she placed it on the back of the sink, turned around, and thrummed her fingers against her arm. She waited a minute. Then another minute, her eyes sightless on the pale yellow walls.

Someone tried to open the door and the lock jiggled.

She’d have to come back.

Finally, three minutes were up. Sophie took a deep breath and turned around.

Through the control window, a plus sign glowed in bright pink.

She was pregnant.

Chapter Eighteen