Conflicted (Everlasting Love)(23)

Burrowing her face into the crook of her elbow, Desiree stifled the screams, refusing to give in to the hot tears beating against her closed eyes. Hoarse sounds wrenched from her throat as she rocked back and forth, praying for the control her parents had always expected. As she prayed for acceptance and a miracle that she knew wouldn’t come.

Mama’s dead. Mama’s dead. Mama’s dead. The mantra beat in her head. Though Mama had yet to take her last breath, Desiree knew the time she had left could be measured in hours instead of days. Desiree choked on the sobs she refused to release. She ripped off her headphones, for the first time in her life choosing silence over the music that consumed her waking minutes.

Suddenly he was there. Jesse dropped to his knees next to her, folding her into his arms, holding her against his hard chest. His beloved scent—a combination of horses, heat and rain—enveloped her, stealing past the last of her defenses. After the days and years of waiting, his embrace was so unexpected that it shattered her control.

“Mama’s gone,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on as tightly as she could. “She’s gone, Jesse. And I can’t get her back.”

His arms cradled her and his hands stroked her back as he rocked her.

“Shh, darlin’,” he murmured softly into her hair. “Shh, I know.”

“Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I know?” She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, keeping her tear-soaked face pressed against him.

“It’s not your fault, Desiree.”

“I should have spent more time with her. I should have seen how bad she was.” Her grief made her voice and the words she said nearly unrecognizable.

“She didn’t want you to see, darlin’. I don’t think she wanted you to know until after she was gone.”

“She is gone, Jesse! She is. That poor shell isn’t Mama.” Completely hysterical now, she never questioned how Jesse had found her, how he’d known that she needed him. She just held tight and poured all of her anger and grief and impotence into him.

And he took it. He held her through the onslaught, stroking her hair and rubbing her back in soothing circles. Murmuring gentle words of comfort in her ear. Sheltering her close to his chest, protecting her from herself and her out-of-control emotions.

When the storm passed, she lay against him, his heartbeat steady and comforting beneath her cheek. It was a long time before Desiree blocked the sorrow enough to become aware of where she was and who she was with.

As reality slowly intruded, she stiffened against Jesse, embarrassed and confused. She tried to pull away, but his arms held her in place. “Don’t,” he murmured.

“Don’t what?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Don’t leave. Let me hold you a little longer.”

His words startled her, mixed with the rage and love that warred within. She escaped while she still had the strength. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “They didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?” she demanded, her hands fisting. “Why could everyone else know and not me? There I am at school, going to classes and parties, hanging out with my friends, thinking everything is fine. I called home almost every day, damn you! I talked to you, to Daddy, to her. None of you said a damn word to me about her getting sicker. None of you told me anything!” Her voice was too loud, but she couldn’t lower it, just as she couldn’t stop the pain-filled words spewing forth.

“It wasn’t up to me to tell you.” His voice was low and firm, but he reached a hand out to her.

She felt him grab her hand as if from far away, felt his long, hard fingers smooth gently over her wrist, over her palm. “That’s a cop-out, Jesse, and you know it. A pathetic excuse that doesn’t mean anything. You don’t care about me at all. You couldn’t care and lie to me the way you did.”

He stiffened, withdrew his hand. She couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but she heard his indrawn breath, saw his shoulders tense and straighten against her assault. “You would have come home and sat with her and cared for her. And you would have died a little bit each day as you watched her fade. Your father didn’t want that for you.”

“It wasn’t his choice.”

He inclined his head. “Maybe not. But it was her choice. She made it very clear to your father, and Big John made it very clear to me. She didn’t want you to know.”

“She’s my mother, Jesse. She’s my mother!”

He sighed, reached for her again. She struggled, tried to evade him, but his hands remained on her arms. “Have you ever thought of it from her point of view? Ever considered that maybe she couldn’t stand for you to see her like that? Couldn’t stand to know that your last memory of her would be a painwracked shell of her former self?

“She loved you, Desiree, loved you enough to live without you these last few months, though you would have brought her comfort. Can’t you love her enough to understand? To forgive her?”

The words hit with the force of a sledgehammer. Shame nearly leveled her, making her flush and turn away from Jesse.

“I didn’t—” Her voice broke and she steadied it. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Of course you didn’t.” He wrapped her slight, cold body inside the shelter of his large, warm one. “Just as she didn’t think of it from your point of view. Whether she was right or wrong, it’s done, Desiree. We can’t go back from here.”