Dane's Storm(66)

Dane regarded me for a moment, his gaze moving over my face, pressing his lips together as if he wasn’t sure what to say. He took a long breath, blowing it out. “This will end well.” He leaned forward and kissed me. I knew he was trying to distract me, but I let him. “It will,” he said, and I suspected he was trying to convince both of us. Hope was a funny thing—it didn’t rely on evidence to exist. And I guessed that was sort of the whole point.

He made love to me slowly, his heat simultaneously worrying me and providing comfort. Afterward, he held me as we dozed some more, neither one of us rushing to get up to a breakfast of water and cattail stems. I felt weak, sick, and so tired, I just wanted to sleep continuously.

“I’m going to try to hunt today,” Dane said.

I opened my eyes and stared at the rock in front of me. “How? What?”

“I’ll try some different things. A rock, maybe just surprise. These animals aren’t used to humans in their forest. Hell, it can’t hurt.”

I was pretty darn sure animals would know instinctively to be cautious of anything bigger than them, but I didn’t say that. Maybe we both needed the hope of food—no matter how pitiful the plan, no matter how unlikely of working. Maybe we just needed to feel like we were trying.

“No, I guess not. But you should rest.”

“I’m not resting, Audra. I have a mild fever. I’m not useless.” He sounded offended, his pride hurt, and I knew it still upset him to think about me alone for the first couple of days out here while he’d been unconscious.

“I know that.”

We were both quiet for a few minutes and I’d almost fallen back to sleep, when Dane said, “Can I ask you a question?”

I paused, but nodded. “Yes, anything.”

“Why do you still live in that house?”

I thought about it for a moment, admitting the truth to myself, letting it sit inside for a moment before sharing it with Dane. I knew the answer, and it pained me to admit out loud. “To punish myself.”

“Oh, Audra. Why?” His breath was soft on my neck. His arms held me tightly and I felt safe, loved. I wanted his forgiveness, and I wanted to forgive myself.

“It was my fault that my dad died too.”

“Your fault? How could it be your fault? His heart gave out, sweetheart.”

“I know. But I put him in that home so I could start my own family, and suddenly”—I swallowed back the tears—“suddenly, strangers were taking care of him. I think he just gave up. He didn’t want to be there. I saw it on his face when I visited him, but I convinced myself he’d grow to like it.”

“Audra, honey, he probably would have. And you had a right to find some happiness for yourself too. You were expecting a baby. You had to make a life for him. For us.”

“I know,” I whispered. But did I? “Maybe I should have brought my dad to live with us. The truth is, Dane, I didn’t want to,” I confessed. “All my life, I’d taken care of him and I just wanted”—I sucked in a sharp breath—“I just wanted something for myself. And look what it got us.”

He pulled me closer, smoothing my hair.

“My dad passed away a couple of months after our divorce became final and”—I took a moment to collect myself, the heartache of that day the paperwork had come in the mail washing over me—“I was still so devastated, so numb, that I didn’t . . . I didn’t grieve for him enough.”

“Oh, sweetheart. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve. You did the best you could. The best anyone who had just faced so much loss would do.” He paused for a moment. “I went to his funeral. I watched you from across the cemetery. I—” He blew out a breath and I turned my head.

“You did?”

“Yeah. It broke me, to see you standing there, so stoic and so . . . alone. I thought about going to you, but you had asked me to leave, and I thought I’d make things worse for you.”

My heart felt like it was in a vise. I clenched my eyes shut for a moment. I was so thankful to know he’d cared enough to come . . . but he was right, it would have made things worse because I wouldn’t have been able to accept his comfort, and I would have had to face the heartbreak of watching him walk away all over again. And at the time I’d been so raw, barely holding on. It would have shattered me.

Dane stroked my hair again, his warm presence soothing me. “You weren’t responsible for your father dying, Audra. And you had no part in what happened to Theo either. Is that what you meant when you said you felt responsible for your dad’s death too?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. He died inside of me, Dane. And for months and months I just kept going over every movement I made in those days leading up . . .” I sighed. “Maybe it was something I did that caused him to die before he was even born.”

I could feel him shaking his head behind me. “It wasn’t. But would you have done anything to hurt him, ever, in any way?”

“No,” I breathed. “Never.”

“Never,” Dane repeated. “You never would have done a thing to jeopardize his welfare. Hell, you wouldn’t drink a cup of caffeinated tea when you were pregnant. I was there, remember?” I heard the smile in his voice, and it almost made my heart feel lighter.