Private Practice

  “Wake up, Sunshine. We have a doctor’s appointment,” Jake said, his voice deep and strong.

  Sophie groaned and rolled over before yanking the pillow atop her head. It was instantly removed. “I am not getting up.” She curled into a ball and leaped for dreamland.

  “Yes, you are.” After placing the cup on the nightstand, he lifted her from the bed.

  “No.” She snuggled her face into a warm chest.

  “Yes.” He lowered her until her feet rested on the smooth floor.

  She groaned as her feet cooled, and she pushed away from Jake. “I’m pregnant, and I need sleep.” It was a last-ditch effort that resulted in a deep male chuckle.

  “Nice try. Drink your tea, and I’ll make my famous scrambled eggs while you shower.”

  “Your scrambled eggs are famous?” She opened blurry eyes on a freshly showered man and her libido picked up. Just a bit.

  “Extremely,” Jake said solemnly with a twinkle in his eyes. “If I leave, do you promise not to go back to bed?”

  Sophie looked longingly at the bed and then at Jake’s determined face. “Fine,” she huffed and turned to grab her toiletry bag, “but those eggs better be worth it.” She stomped out of the room and headed for a warm shower.

  An hour later found her refreshed and dressed. She sat at the table, her stomach growling in response to the aromatic concoction on the stove.

  “You’re a bit of a grouch in the morning.” Jake failed to hide his grin as he dumped scrambled eggs with ham, onions, and cheese onto a plate before her.

  “Am not,” Sophie said before taking a healthy bite of eggs and closing her eyes in appreciation. “I’m tired. And pregnant.” She glared at him before taking another big bite.

  “So this morning attitude is new?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Jake wisely sat and ate his eggs in silence, pausing from time to time to make sure she ate.

  “So you’ve been to the Supreme Court?” Sophie leaned back in her chair, her stomach all but bursting.

  “Twice.” Jake took the empty plates to the sink. His faded jeans curved over a rock-hard ass, and Sophie couldn’t help but lick her lips. Then her gaze trailed over the crisp black shirt and the muscles shifting beneath it when he moved.

  “You could probably get a job anywhere.”

  His back stiffened as he ran water into the sink. “Probably.”

  “And make a lot of money.” Her mind spun with the possibilities.

  “More than likely.” He placed the plates in the dishwasher before turning to face her, his back against the counter, his arms across his chest. “I’m not leaving Montana.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s my heritage. I want Leila to grow up here and know it. And know her grandparents and uncles. Maybe cousins someday.” His face hardened.

  “You’ve had this discussion before,” Sophie said softly.

  Jake nodded.

  “I like my life.” She rose to her feet.

  “Your life just changed. Both of ours did.” Jake folded the dishtowel on the counter and put a hand to the small of her back. “Let’s go to Doc’s and make sure you’re all right.”

  Sophie nodded. There really wasn’t anything else to say. She followed him out of the house and climbed into his truck. They didn’t speak on the way to the town center. All too soon Jake pulled to a stop near the spraying fountain, and Sophie turned toward a deep blue door set into a log-cabin-type building with DOC MOON written in yellow letters.

  “There wasn’t enough room for his whole name.” Jake grinned and helped her from the Jeep.

  Sophie sighed in relief at the mostly empty sidewalk before darting through the blue door into a comfortable mauve waiting room. The last thing she needed was the entire town knowing she was pregnant with Jake’s baby.

  “Well, hello, Jake.” A fiftyish woman fluffed her poufed white hair and smiled capped teeth from behind the receptionist counter. “This must be Sophie. I’m Gladys, and I need you to fill these out.” Gladys handed her a clipboard with several papers attached and a pen. Sophie took them and dropped into a wooden chair. She had finished about half of the forms when a door to the right of the receptionist’s desk opened. Doc Mooncaller poked his gray head out, wearing an official-looking lab coat with a stethoscope draped over his neck.

  “Sophie, come on in. Just bring those papers.” He moved back down the hall.

  Sophie stood and wasn’t surprised as Jake bounded up. She lifted an eyebrow at him.

  “Can I come in?” His hopeful expression was too much to deny.

  “Okay,” she whispered, “but you have to leave if I need to get naked.”

  “I’ve seen you naked, Sunshine,” he whispered back as they headed down the hall to the open examination room.

  Sophie raised her arms in exasperation as she walked inside and plopped on one of the two brown guest chairs.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be on the table?” Jake sat next to her.

  “Maybe you should return to the waiting area.” Sophie frowned. Suddenly, this was all too personal.

  “Too late,” Jake whispered as Doc walked into the room.

  “Well, Sophie. I guess you didn’t make a run for it, huh?” Doc settled onto a rolling doctor’s chair. “I’d like to do a full examination and medical history.” He nodded toward the table. “My nurse will be in to give you a gown and take your blood pressure in just a minute. Jake, you go back to the waiting room.”

  “But Doc—”

  “I mean it. You can come next time. Right now you’re just in the way.”

  “Fine. But if you need me, call me.” Jake dropped a light kiss on Sophie’s head before grudgingly leaving the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sophie walked down Doc’s hall, relieved he’d given her a clean bill of health. And prenatal vitamins. She took a deep breath and opened the door to face Jake. Then she stopped cold at the sight of Loni, Tom, Dawn, Colton, Quinn, and Hawk all sitting in the waiting room.

  Jake held his head in his hands but looked up at her gasp. “Melanie Johnson saw us come into the office earlier and called Mrs. West, who called Jeanie Dixon, who called my mother.”

  Loni jumped to her feet and rushed to take Sophie’s hands. “Are you okay?” Loni wore a light blue blouse with the buttons lined incorrectly, jeans, and mismatched flip-flops. Her hair perched in a lopsided ponytail, and she’d applied mascara to only one eye.

  Sophie nodded numbly.

  “Good.” Loni patted her hands as the rest of the group rose. “We hurried down here so quickly we missed breakfast. Why don’t we all—”

  “No.” Jake reached around Loni to take Sophie’s hand and pull her toward the door. “We’re going somewhere else. To talk.”

  He led her to the truck, and she sat inside without a protest, her mind whirling. She was pregnant. Everyone knew it. She didn’t notice when he started the ignition or pulled onto the road, and she paid no attention to their trip. The truck stopped.

  “You brought me to your house,” she said woodenly.

  Jake faced her across the middle console. “Are you all right?”

  “Doc says I’m perfectly healthy. You had a huge head when you were born.”

  “He told you that?” Jake laughed.

  “Everybody knows I’m pregnant.” She would’ve liked a chance to come to grips with the idea on her own.

  He rubbed a large hand over his eyes. “I know.” He turned and unfolded from the truck before crossing and opening her door to help her out.

  “Are you going to sue me for custody?” Sophie regained her footing on the smooth drive, then lifted her eyes to meet his, which narrowed. She fought a shiver as the pine-scented breeze rippled through her hair, and thunder sounded in the distance.

  “No.”

  “What about the Federal Indian Act?” Her knees trembled.

  “You mean the Indian Child Welfare Act?” Jake rubbed warmth into her suddenly freezing arms.

/>   “Yeah, that.” Sophie eased back from his too-appealing touch. “Don’t tribes get a leg-up in custody battles?”

  Jake studied her for a moment, realization dawning over his rugged face. “No, Sunshine. That is not what the Act does.”

  “Really?” Sarcasm laced her tone.

  “The Act’s purpose is to protect Indian children taken out of a home, so they are put in a foster home or adopted by another Indian couple. It does not give a leg-up to anyone in a normal custody proceeding.” Jake propelled her toward the house. “I cannot believe you’ve actually been worrying about this.” He opened the door and ushered her inside. “That you think I’d fight you in court for our child.”

  Sophie turned to face him as he shut the door with a soft thud. “What are you going to do?”

  “Negotiate.” The smile he gave her should have provided a warning. Instead, it warmed her from the toes up.

  “Negotiate? What exactly do you mean?” Sophie sat on the leather couch and stretched her legs over the matching ottoman. The view of Mineral Lake and sharp peaked mountains relaxed her, bone by bone.

  “Well, what would it take for you to live in Montana?” The matching leather chair creaked as he sat and faced her.

  Sophie stiffened. “Live here?”

  “Yes. In what circumstances can you see yourself based out of here?”

  “What about you,? What circumstances can you see yourself living in San Francisco?” she asked.

  “I don’t.” Jake’s jaw set. “It’s not only me. I can’t take Leila away from the rest of my family. Even if I wanted to.”

  Sophie could understand that. “I’m surprised you’re not spouting that we need to get married before the baby is born.”

  Jake sat back in his chair, his voice softening. “Already made that mistake.”

  Sophie clamped down on the sudden pang through her heart. She reminded herself she didn’t want to get married just because she was pregnant, either. “So I don’t know where we stand.”

  “Me neither. But I think we should look at it in steps.”

  “In steps?”

  “The pregnancy as the first step. And Sophie, I would not like to miss any of it.” Determination and an odd vulnerability lit his eyes.

  “You’ll come to San Francisco?”

  “I thought you’d stay here. You know, work on the tribe’s golf course and the art showing for Juliet. You’d still be working at what you want, and I’d pay to fly you to California any time you wished. So long as Doc okays it.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Just think about it. Then we could figure out a schedule that worked for both of us after the baby is born, if you decided to live in the city.” His smile was too charming.

  Sophie frowned, her mind reeling with too much static.

  A slam of a truck door saved her from having to answer, and Leila rushed into the room. “Daddy, look what Aunt Dawn made me.” The little girl jumped into her father’s arms and handed him a blue knitted hat.

  Jake raised his eyebrows. “Dawn learned to knit?”

  “Uncle Hawk bet her that she couldn’t do it.” Leila turned curious eyes on Sophie. “What’s ‘knocked up’ mean?”

  Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. She dropped her legs off the ottoman.

  Jake shot her a concerned glance. “Where did you hear that, sweetheart?”

  Dawn answered from the doorway. “That cow Betsy Phillips said it to Mary Whitmore at the grocery store when we dropped by for some flour for Mom.” She turned wide eyes on Sophie. “Oh. Hi, Sophie.”

  “Hi, Dawn.” Sophie leaned back again and crossed her arms over her face.

  “Well, ’bye.” Dawn made a quick exit.

  “What’s knocked up?” Leila asked again. “That cow Betsy Phillips said that you’re knocked up, Sophie. Does it hurt?”

  Sophie huffed out a laugh, and she peeked between her arms.

  “You shouldn’t call Mrs. Phillips a cow. Even if it is true,” Jake admonished his daughter.

  “Sorry.” Inquisitive eyes met Sophie’s. “Well?”

  “Um, well.” Sophie panicked as she stared at Jake.

  Jake took a deep breath before cuddling his daughter close. “It means Sophie has a baby in her tummy.”

  “Like old Bula?” Leila’s eyes dropped to Sophie’s stomach.

  Jake sputtered. “Uh, kind of.”

  “Who’s Bula?” Sophie asked warily.

  “A milk cow over at my mom’s.” Jake stifled a grin.

  “How did you get a baby in your tummy?” Leila asked.

  That night found Sophie struggling to find sleep, even though her body was exhausted after Jake and Leila dropped her at home. She giggled at the thought of Jake quickly changing the subject to shoes with his daughter to avoid explaining the birds and the bees. Though they’d have to tell her about her future sibling sometime.

  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Jake’s offer made a certain kind of sense. Designing the tribe’s course would help Uncle Nathan, and she’d get a chance to put together a real art exhibit. A dream she hadn’t dared given any hope.

  A tiny voice in her head whispered that she wouldn’t be alone during the pregnancy, either. But instead of reassuring her, that made her want to run. Fast and hard in the other direction. The phone rang, and she reached for it like a lifeline.

  “Hey, Sophie, I hope I’m not waking you.”

  “No, Preston, I can’t sleep.”

  The sound of Preston settling back against leather, probably his desk chair, filled the line. “I just wanted to let you know Charleton has dropped their threats of a lawsuit.”

  Sophie’s stomach heaved. “How? Why?”

  “Apparently our new attorney talked to theirs and they backed off. Fast.”

  Sophie groaned. “We have a new attorney?”

  “Yeah. You might know him.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Sophie took a calming breath. At this rate there wouldn’t be a place in her life Jake hadn’t infiltrated.

  Preston laughed. “Well, I figured I’d give you a friendly warning. Your uncle thinks Lodge walks on water.”

  “Great. But what about the other four developments? We needed those.”

  “Nah, we’ll be all right. I’m flying to New York tomorrow to meet with Luxem Hotel Executives. They’re building seven more hotels next year, all with golf courses. I think we’ll get the job.”

  “That’d be great.” Hope filled her with warmth.

  “It’d be even better if you were here to help design some of those.”

  Sophie stared at muted moonlight playing across the ceiling and searched for the right words. The scraping of pine needles against the window was the only sound through the room.

  “Or…” Preston sighed. “I’m sure you could help design them from anywhere in the world.”

  “Really?”

  “All you need is the Internet and a cell phone.”

  “I have those,” Sophie said softly.

  “You have me, too. You’re a good friend. If you need me for anything, I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks.” She kept her condition to herself for now. She wasn’t ready to share.

  “Night.” Preston clicked off, and Sophie stretched to place the cell phone on the antique nightstand. It sounded like her old friend was saying good-bye. Sadness at what might have been slid through her before she rolled over to count sheep.

  She reached the two hundredth white fluffy animal before an odd smell tickled her nose. She lifted her head to survey the air. Hazy beams of light filtered through the gauzy curtains and lent an ethereal glow to the old-fashioned room. Brass glinted off bedrails and shadows hummed along the edges to settle into the corners.

  The smell grew stronger.

  Smoke. Oh God, it was smoke.

  Sophie jumped out of bed with a gasp and leaned one hand on the night table as the world spun around her. Several deep breaths had the room righting itself so she could hurry to t
he door and pull it open. Smoke billowed up from the stairway. Flames licked the wooden handrail.

  Panic shot through her.

  She slammed the door closed and grabbed her sweatshirt off the flowered chair to cover the space under the door. Thank goodness Mrs. Shiller was out of town. She grabbed her cell and dialed 911, giving the address to the operator before yanking on jeans, a sweater, and her boots. Then she ran to the window and pushed it all the way open before turning back to the room. The solid door kept too much smoke from entering, and she figured she had a few minutes.

  She grabbed her purchases and tossed them out the window, watching as they bounced two stories down onto the thick grass. Then she threw out her suitcase and charcoals. Smoke wafted out the front of the house to cover the ground in a fine haze.

  From a distance, sirens pierced the night.

  Sophie finally grabbed her two sketchbooks and swung one leg over the ledge of the window. “We can do this, baby,” she said, eyeing the nearby thick branches of the statuesque bull pine. She’d never climbed a tree but had studied gravity in a physics class. Gravity would win over wishful hopes any day. She reached for the closest branch, her plan formulating as she moved.

  Flashing blue and red lights stopped her mid-reach as the sheriff’s truck slammed to a stop and both Jake and Quinn jumped out. More shrill sirens sounded in the night.

  “Sophie!” Jake yelled as he barreled across the grass to look up at the window, Quinn on his heels.

  “I’m fine, Jake,” Sophie called down, her white knuckles on the window frame starting to ache. “Catch these, would you?” She tossed down her sketchbooks, which Jake snatched out of the air and placed near the base of the tree.

  Quinn said something into a big black radio just as a red fire truck screeched to a stop and men in full gear scrambled off.

  Jake’s eyes held Sophie’s captive as he murmured something to his brother, who nodded and turned to direct the crew. Then Jake jogged to the tree and jumped to clasp the bottom branch before swinging his legs up over his head toward another branch, crossing his ankles and levering himself into the tree.

  Sophie held her breath as Jake easily climbed branch after branch and sent leaves and bark cascading down to the ground.