She carried a serving tray of blueberry scones into Bradford House’s dining room. Smiled at the elderly couple staying in the Blue Room as she set the tray down.

She missed Clinton like crazy, and he hadn’t even called. Had just had his attorney contact her to set up child support payments. The amount was more than fair, and she wouldn’t have to work should she choose not to.

She wanted to work, needed it, which was why she was glad she had a shift at O’Riley’s tonight. Luckily, Kane hadn’t treated her any differently since she and Clinton had stopped seeing each other, but she knew he wondered what was going on. He might act as if he didn’t care about his brother, but she didn’t believe it.

He had asked Clinton to be his best man. She couldn’t help but think that had been an overture on Kane’s part. The first step at a possible reconciliation between them. She hoped she was right and that they would be able to mend the rift between them. She knew how important Clinton’s family was to him. Even Kane.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside the kitchen, went directly to the sink and stared out the window. Summer was over and school had started last week. It wouldn’t be long before the nip of fall entered the air and the leaves started changing. The baby kicked. Hard. Ivy smiled. She was now seven months along but she hadn’t done much to get ready for the baby, a part of her still hoping Clinton would come back. She hated that he was missing it, that he wasn’t able to enjoy the preparations.

“Did you hear?” Fay asked breathlessly as she came into the room followed by Gracie holding Mitch’s hand.

Ivy turned. Frowned to see Fay so obviously upset. “Hear what?”

“Charlotte Ellison just called to postpone her bridal shower,” Fay said. “One of Kane’s brothers has been hurt, and she’s not sure if they’ll be traveling to see him soon or not.”

Everything inside Ivy stilled. A roaring filled her head.

“What happened?” Ivy demanded. “Which brother? How hurt is he?”

“Not Clinton,” Fay said, rushing over to take both of Ivy’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you that right away.”

Ivy was shaking and had to sit down. She almost dropped right to the floor, but Fay helped her around the island and onto a stool, got her a glass of water while Gracie made Mitchell a peanut-butter sandwich.

“It wasn’t Clinton?” Ivy asked, needing to know for sure. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. It’s the one in the marines.”

“Zach,” Ivy breathed, relieved beyond measure that Clinton was safe and whole. “Is he going to be all right?”

“I don’t know,” Fay said. “From what little Charlotte told me, it’s really bad. The Humvee he was driving triggered a roadside bomb. Two of the men with him were killed instantly and he was severely injured.”

Oh, no. Poor Zach. And poor Clinton. He must be terrified. And going crazy that there was nothing he could do to help, to fix it, to make sure his brother pulled through.

Fay nudged the water glass in Ivy’s hand. “Take a sip.”

Ivy did so but her throat was so tight, she could barely swallow.

“You should call him,” Fay said gently.

Ivy didn’t pretend not to know who Fay was referring to. She pulled her phone out, needing to hear Clinton’s voice, but put it on the counter when she realized he wouldn’t want to hear from her. His brother had been severely injured and he hadn’t even told her. Hadn’t reached out to her.

“He won’t want to hear from me,” Ivy said quietly.

Fay brushed Ivy’s hair back. Squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sure he will.”

“Fay’s right,” Gracie said from the table where she was cutting the crust off Mitch’s sandwich. “The cowboy needs you. You should definitely call.”

Ivy shook her head. The thought of someone needing her was terrifying. And thrilling. “I hurt him.”

Gracie swiped peanut butter from the knife with her forefinger. “We figured as much. But that’s not the reason you won’t call him.”

“It’s not?” Ivy asked.

Sucking the peanut butter from her finger, the teen shook her head. “No. You’re not worried he’s still mad or even that he won’t forgive you. You’re scared. You’ve been afraid of him since the night you met.”

“What are you talking about?” Fay asked, which was good, since Ivy was unable to form any words.

“There was something between them from the moment they met,” Gracie said, twisting the lid back onto the peanut-butter jar. “That kind of connection, especially when it’s instantaneous, can be frightening. So it’s easier to pretend it doesn’t exist. Safer, too. It’s scary to want something so much. Especially if there’s a chance you won’t get it. Or worse, that you will and then lose it again.”

Ivy wanted to laugh, wanted to tell Gracie that she was crazy, that her theories were ridiculous.

But she knew, deep in her heart, the teenager was right.

She’d let fear run her life. But no more.

Grabbing her phone, she got to her feet. “I’m really sorry to leave you in a bind,” she told Fay, “but I’m taking a few days off.”

Knowing how stubborn Clinton was, those few days would probably be more like a week. But she’d take as long as she needed to convince him to give her, to give them, another chance.

Fay waved that away. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll manage just fine.”

Ivy gave her a grateful hug then turned and embraced Gracie warmly. “Thank you,” she whispered into the teen’s curly hair.

Gracie leaned back and grinned. “What’s the point of having friends if they can’t tell you when you’re being an idiot?”

Ivy laughed for the first time in what seemed like weeks, so happy to have these two women in her life. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” Fay and Gracie said at the same time as Ivy raced off to face her greatest fear.

A man with the power to break her heart.

* * *

C.J. PACED THE space between his desk and the sofa in his home office. He had work to do but he couldn’t keep his focus. Not when he was so worried about Zach. He hated waiting, but that’s about all he’d done since he’d gotten word about Zach’s injuries. Wait on call after call, from doctors to tell him how Zach’s surgery had gone. From nurses to let him know if his brother had survived the night, if he was in pain, what they were doing for him next.

Once Zach’s condition had been stable enough for him to travel, he’d been transported to a hospital in Germany but C.J. had no idea how long it would be before his brother would be stateside again.

He wiped a hand down his face. He hated waiting, and he hated feeling so useless. At least he’d been able to get Zach’s mother and younger half sister on a flight to Germany. He knew Zach would rather have them there than any member of his father’s family.

But now there was absolutely nothing C.J. could do to help his brother.

The intercom buzzed and he answered it.

“Mr. Bartasavich,” Paul from the front desk said, “there’s a woman to see you but her name isn’t on the list.”

Ever since word had gotten out about Zach’s injuries, the local media had been bugging his family for the full story. But C.J. wasn’t about to turn his brother’s sacrifice into a juicy snippet for the society page.

“Tell her I have no comment,” C.J. said. He turned away only to have the intercom buzz again.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Bartasavich,” Paul said quickly, “but the young lady has asked me to tell you that she’s not here for a quote. She has something of yours.”

C.J.’s scalp prickled. No. It couldn’t be. But a part of him, the traitorous part he tried to ignore, hoped it was Ivy. He pressed the button. “Send her up, Paul.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went into the foyer, ducked into the bathroom and checked his hair. Realized what he was doing and forced himself back out into the hall. It probably wasn’t even her. There was no reason for her to come all this way, not after the way they’d ended things.