McKettrick's Heart (31 page)

“You guys look happy,” she said, sounding surprised.

Molly, mixing cake batter at the counter, blushed and looked away.

Keegan, reading a book at the kitchen table, with a freshly changed Lucas in the curve of his arm, balanced on his knee, caught Molly's gaze, held it effortlessly for a charged moment and grinned wickedly.

“Do we?” he asked mildly, his eyes promising another McKettrick welcome—soon.

One month later

M
OLLY STOOD
in the ranch house kitchen, the phone receiver pressed to one ear, squinting at the calendar.

“Hurry up, Dev,” she heard Keegan call, upstairs. “The wedding starts in less than an hour!”

“Molly,” Joanie said from California, “don't panic. It could be a false alarm.”

“I'm
late,
” she whispered, fretting over the date on the slick block of days hanging from the wall near the pantry door. “I'm
never
late!”

“You should be telling Keegan this, not me,” Joanie counseled. Since returning to California after Molly and Keegan's wedding, she'd realigned the agency almost single-handedly. Molly had been amazed at her friend's business acumen, and she was content to be a mostly silent partner. It was her job to read new manuscripts, sent to the ranch in batches, and she loved weeding out the contenders from the try-again-laters.

“I can't,” Molly said, casting an anxious glance toward the stairs. She and Lucas were dressed in the appropriate finery and ready to roll, and Keegan was likely to appear at any moment.

“You can sleep with the man, but you can't tell him you think you're pregnant?” Joanie asked reasonably. “What's wrong with this picture, Moll?”

“He'll think I did it on purpose.”

“Didn't you?”

“Well, yes,” Molly admitted, frustrated, “but not so I'd have something to hold over his head.”

“May I point out that even if you
did
do this dastardly thing, he participated?”

“Participated is not the word,” Molly said, smiling a little. Keegan didn't
participate
in anything. He steamrolled. He managed. And he'd met his match in Molly Shields McKettrick.

“Did it ever occur to you that Keegan might be
happy
when he finds out?” asked the sage of Los Angeles.

Just then, Keegan materialized at the top of the stairs, resplendent in a tuxedo bought and fitted especially for the occasion. His chestnut hair was a little longer than when Molly had first met him, curling at the collar, and his eyes gleamed with the lingering satisfaction of their early morning lovemaking.

“I'll talk to you later, Dad,” Molly said.

She heard Joanie laugh as she hung up.

“You look delicious,” Keegan said, running his gaze over her pink satin suit. As bridesmaids' outfits went, it wasn't too bad.

“So do you,” Molly replied.

Tell him,
urged the still, small voice within.

No,
she answered silently.
He doesn't love me. And anyway, this isn't the time.

Keegan turned, shouted over his shoulder. “Dev! Get a move on—we're burning daylight!”

“All
right!
” Devon yelled back.

“Ten years old,” Keegan said dryly, “and she's already acting like a teenager.”

Molly grinned, went to him—after just the briefest hesitation—and straightened his lapels. He smelled faintly of soap and, touching him, she couldn't help remembering the shower they'd shared. “Just you wait,” she said. “You ain't seen nothin' yet.”

“Well,
that's
comforting,” Keegan said. He lowered his head, gave her a nibbling kiss. Under any other circumstances, things might have escalated from there—Keegan had an amazing ability to kindle instant need in Molly.

Devon clattered down the back stairs. “Well, let's
go
already,” she said, “if you guys can stop kissing long enough.”

Keegan rolled his eyes.

Molly laughed, shook her head. Men just didn't understand these things. Devon was rebelling a little because she felt utterly safe in Keegan's love; she knew he wasn't going anywhere and, thanks to the settlement with Shelley, now happily settled in a Parisian apartment, Devon wasn't going anywhere, either.

Lucas jumped up and down in the playpen, arms upraised. “Go!” he cried jubilantly. “Go!”

Keegan chuckled and picked Lucas up, giving him a little swing in the process. The child loved nothing better than riding on Keegan's shoulders, and young as he was, he was already learning to sit a horse. Sometimes, when Keegan went across the creek to help Rance herd cattle from one pasture to another, Lucas and Devon went along, Lucas in the saddle with Keegan, Devon mounted on the little pony that had been part of Jesse's wedding gift to all of them.

Molly was still cautious around horses, but she knew, with Keegan's patient instruction, she'd get the hang of it.

Lucas chortled, bouncing in Keegan's arms.

Devon opened the back door and huffed out a long-suffering sigh. “Are we
going?
”

Keegan grinned down at Molly once more, and they left the house.

Spud and the three horses looked on from the corral as they all got into the Jaguar. Keegan had slipped out of bed before dawn to feed the animals, then come back to tease Molly awake. She'd been in the throes of a sweet, sleepy orgasm before she'd even opened her eyes.

Remembering, she blushed slightly, watching Keegan out of the corner of one eye.

He grinned, as if reading her mind, and reached over to stroke her thigh.

The little church was already swelling with guests when they arrived.

Rance, the bridegroom, stood nervously in the yard, enduring while Cheyenne fiddled with his tie. He looked handsome in his spiffy black tuxedo, and seemed to be taking Jesse's inevitable ribbing in his stride.

Keegan parked the car, leaned across Molly to open the door, his shoulder brushing lightly across her breast. Fire shot through her system, and though she tried to hide her reaction, he knew. His chuckle was proof of that.

Devon, meanwhile, got out of the backseat and rushed off to find Rianna and Maeve. Members of the wedding, all three of them.

“Go!” Lucas fretted. “Go!”

Keegan pulled back just far enough to look into Molly's eyes. “Do you wish we'd had a big traditional shindig like this?” he asked.

He never failed to surprise her.

“No,” she said.
But I wish you loved me.

He shifted a little, opened the glove compartment. “I was going to give you this later,” he said. “But now seems to be the moment.”

Molly blinked, confused, and suddenly fiercely hopeful.

Keegan took out a black velvet jeweler's box, held it in the palm of his hand.

Her heartbeat speeded up.

“Go!” Lucas bellowed.

Molly accepted the box, but couldn't bring herself to open it. Keegan had given her a broad, diamond-studded band the day they were married—so what could this be? And what had he meant by
Now seems to be the moment?

He lifted the hinged lid when Molly made no move to do so.

A gold heart-shaped locket glittered inside.

Molly caught her breath.

“Go-o-o-o!” Lucas insisted.

“Hush,” Keegan told him.

Amazingly, Lucas obeyed.

“Molly?” Keegan prompted.

“It's—it's beautiful,” Molly whispered.

Keegan curved a finger under her chin, lifted her face to his. Smiled a little at her confusion, which must have been clearly visible in her eyes.

“What does it mean?” she heard herself ask.

Keegan opened the locket with a motion of his thumb. Inside were pictures—Devon and Lucas on one side, himself and Molly on the other. The second picture had been taken on their wedding day, and Keegan had a shiner and a swollen lip.

“It means I love you, Molly,” he said simply.

Her eyes filled with tears. He was giving her his heart—his strong, stubborn McKettrick heart—and she was inside it, with Devon and Lucas.

“You're supposed to say, ‘I love you, too, Keegan,'” he teased.

“I do,” she said. “Oh, Keegan, I do—”

He kissed her.

“Go?” Lucas said tentatively.

Organ music sounded from inside the church.

Keegan took the locket out of the box, fastened the chain around Molly's neck. “We'd better go inside,” he said.

Molly grasped his hand. “There's one thing I have to tell you first,” she said. “I—I think I have something for you, too.”

“What?” he asked, the slightest frown creasing his forehead.

“A baby,” she answered.

A smile broke over his face, but before he could say anything, Jesse appeared beside the car.

“Hey,” he said, grinning as he opened the back door of the Jag and began unhitching Lucas from his carriding gear. “The wedding's about to start, and they're short one best man and a bridesmaid.”

Inside the church Molly gave Lucas to Cora Tellington, Rance's former mother-in-law, to hold. Doc Swann, the local veterinarian and Cora's fiancé, sat beside her in the pew, grinning. They were holding hands, their fingers intertwined.

Jesse and Keegan took their places up front, next to Rance.

Molly hurried back to join Cheyenne, Rianna and Maeve, all wearing the same shade of pink. Beyond them, on the step, stood Emma, a vision in billowing white lace, beaming tearfully behind her veil. The handsome man at her side, ready to give the bride away, was Rance's father.

The wedding itself passed in a happy blur.

The reception was lively, with excited children running everywhere, high on a plentitude of sugar. There was cake, and pictures were taken, and whenever Keegan caught Molly's eye, she touched the exquisite gold heart at her throat and marveled.

He loved her.

Keegan McKettrick
loved
her.

“Molly?” The voice came from just behind her, and it was one she'd longed to hear.

She whirled, thinking she must surely be mistaken. It
couldn't
be—

But it was. There he stood, her dad, wearing his best suit—a little ill-fitting and smelling faintly of extended storage—and a cautious smile. He looked tanned, rested—and sober.

“Dad,” Molly whispered, as though if she didn't say his name, he would disappear.

“I hope it was okay to crash the party,” Luke Shields said.

Molly threw her arms around his neck, kissed him on both cheeks. Her eyes burned with happy tears, and her heart swelled until she really thought it would burst.

He chuckled. “Does this mean you're glad to see me?”

“Yes.” Molly clasped his hand. “Come and meet the new men in my life,” she said. Keegan, standing with Jesse and a few of Rance's friends, Lucas in one arm, watched as they approached.

“Dad,” Molly said, “this is Keegan—my husband.”
My husband.
“And here's Lucas.”

Luke put out a hand. “Hello, Keegan,” he said. “Thanks for the lift.”

Thanks for the lift?
Molly wondered.

Keegan nodded, and shook his father-in-law's hand readily. “Good to meet you,” he replied, handing Lucas over to his grandfather.

Luke's eyes glittered with tears. “Well,” he said to Lucas, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Hello, there.”

“Go,” Lucas said solemnly.

“He's a born hitchhiker,” Keegan commented wryly.

Luke laughed.

Molly tried to remember the last time she'd heard her dad laugh that way, and she couldn't. After exchanging glances with Keegan, she tugged at Luke's coat sleeve, led him away, Lucas still snug in his arms.

Outside, they sat on a bench, the three of them.

“Are you happy, Molly?” Luke asked after a long time.

“I'm happy,” Molly answered. “What about you?”

Luke watched fondly as Lucas played in the grass at their feet. “I think I'm going to make it this time,” he said. He turned to Molly then, and his eyes searched hers. “I'm sorry I couldn't be there for
your
wedding, sweetheart.”

“You're here now, Dad. That's what counts.”

“I can't stay long,” Luke told her. “Ninety meetings in ninety days, that's the rule.”

Molly squeezed his hand. Rested her head against the curve of his shoulder for a moment. “How did you get here?” she asked softly.

“Keegan sent the company jet,” Luke answered, grinning. “I traveled in style.”

Thanks for the lift.