Taming His Montana Heart(43)

“Yeah. Boone and his wife are up to their ears with two little ones and establishing their careers. I wish—I feel guilty for not living closer to our folks. If I did, I could give my brother a break.”

All this talk about families was making her uneasy. At the same time she didn’t want it to end because the more she learned about his family, the more she understood him. She was greedy, eager to pull every piece of information she could out of him, peeling off the layers while somehow keeping hers intact.

“Does your dad talk about his health?” she asked. “What about his doctors? Have you been able to confer with them?”

“I tried to. Unfortunately, privacy regulations complicates things. I know…”

When he walked to the far end of the room, she didn’t know whether to join him or give him space. What do you know? She longed to ask but that might be what he was trying to escape.

“Life’s complicated,” she said then winced at her words.

“Yeah, it is. We think it’s going to play out in a certain way, that we have plans and goals. Then one day everything blows up and nothing is ever the same.”

One day. Casting aside doubt and hesitation, she erased the distance between them. His back was to her so she took the monumental risk of running her hands over his shoulder blades and onto his shoulders. He was so tense. She ached, just thinking about what was going on inside him.

“Sometimes we get a warning,” she said, feeling her way. “But we don’t know it until later. Maybe there were some hints before your dad—was he getting more tired than usual, something like that?”

He faced her. Maybe she should have taken that as a sign that she needed to back away, but she couldn’t make herself move beyond letting her arms slide to her sides. His having on shoes increased the difference in their heights but that wasn’t why he overwhelmed her. What had started out as an evening of hot chocolate, cookies, and colored lights had slipped into a deeper realm. She didn’t know how to get free, or if she wanted to.

“I put him through so much,” he said. “The stress—it affected the whole family but Dad…”

“You’re blaming yourself for—”

He held up his hand. “Look, forget I—it’s pretty complicated.”

She longed to slap down the hand between them. “I hope you’ve been able to talk to your parents about—whatever it is. Clearing the air might make a difference. Maybe ease your dad’s mind and take pressure off his heart.”

His mouth tightened. “It isn’t that simple.”

She didn’t know how to react to what might be his criticism of what she’d said. She was trying to help, maybe not getting it right, but trying anyway. If she knew what this was about—“It’s hard going from parent-child relationships to adult-adult.” Was that what she’d meant to say? “As we grow up, we stop confiding in our parents about everything because we’re trying to prove we can stand on our own feet.”

In many respects, her childhood hadn’t been like that, but she had some idea how it was for many families. Hopefully she could put herself in that position, play the expected role.

“I couldn’t protect—” he started. “You didn’t go through what I did. You can’t possibly understand.”

Tell him what it was like for you. “What do you want me to say?”

He moved so fast she barely realized what he had in mind before he captured her wrists. He started to pull her close but stopped, still holding onto her, looking surprised.

“I didn’t mean to bring you into this, but sometimes things boil up inside me and escape.” His grip slackened. “It won’t happen again.”

What won’t happen? “It’s all right.”

“No it isn’t.” He stroked her flesh where his fingers had dug in. “I don’t think things would be so hard if the—if it hadn’t impacted my family like it did. I look at my mother and see the pain in her eyes. She hurts for me. At the same time, she tries to downplay what she’s going through.”

Haley blinked repeatedly, but her eyes continued to burn. How well she understood pain. “Oh.”

“Mom carried me inside her,” he continued. “She gave birth to me, nursed me, walked the floors with me. Tried to keep me safe. She put my brother and me before her own needs.” He shook his head. “Mothers give so much of themselves to their children. They ask for so little in return.”

Images from her childhood threatened to break through. She couldn’t concentrate enough to keep them locked away.

“You must know what I’m talking about,” he went on. “Your mother—probably all she wants for Christmas is to hear from you.”

“My mother’s dead.”

When Shaw’s expression froze, the reality of what she’d just said sank in. She hadn’t meant to tell him that tonight and maybe not any other night, but she couldn’t take back the words.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.”

“How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

Why was he looking as if he’d been punched when she was the one who’d lived through the nightmare? Maybe she could have handled his reaction if he didn’t make it worse by lifting her hand to his face and touching his lips to her palm.