Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(30)

You sneaky bastard. Joanna glared at Grant, then looked wildly across the restaurant, praying Lucia would get her ass over there before Tyler had a chance to say whatever it was that Tyler was going to say. You never knew with that kid. “Tyler, here comes Mom. Tell Mr. MacDara ’bye.”

The look Tyler gave Joanna sent another wave of oh hell no shivering up her spine. He edged closer to Grant, his round-cheeked face scrunched up in as threatening a look as a seven-year-old could muster. His eyes narrowed even more and he thumped the table with his little fist. “Mom said that guy was the rat bastard that hit Auntie Jo in the face and broke her arm too. His name is Mr. Matthew. And Mom said he forgot to tell Auntie Jo that he already had a wife and was a dad to two kids. But that’s a lie. I say he didn’t tell her ’cause he knew if he did, she wouldn’t invite him to any more sleepovers. She has good snacks at her sleepovers, but you prolly already know that.” Tyler paused and glanced back, obviously calculating how much time he had left to speak by how close his mother was to reaching him. He gulped in a quick breath and started again. “And when Auntie Jo told the cops that Mr. Matthew hit her, he got mad and got her fired from the job that made her a lot of money.” Tyler thumped the table again, talking faster and faster, determined to get out all the juicy details before anyone could stop him. “She doesn’t know that I heard, but she cried every night when she first came back to live with us. Her and Mom both cried every night.”

“Tyler!” Joanna and Lucia shrieked in unison.

“Good talking to you, Mr. MacDara. Don’t forget what I said.” Tyler shot under his mother’s outstretched hand and scampered back to the private room holding Brady Elementary’s second-grade class.

Lucia leaned over, rested a hand on Joanna’s shoulder, and squeezed. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll talk to him. I promise.”

Joanna clasped her hands on the table. She laced her fingers so tightly her knuckles turned white. Staring down at her hands, she gave Lucia a slight jerking nod, then leaned forward and pressed her clenched hands against her forehead. Eyes closed, she tried to focus on something else—anything else. Breathe. Take in air. Blow it out. She needed to be still and block out the world until the feeling that she was either going to vomit or pass out went away.

“Joanna—I am truly sorry. I promise I’ll handle it.” Lucia hugged her a moment longer, then her arm slid away, making Joanna feel even colder.

“He’s only seven, Mr. MacDara,” Lucia said, a mother’s plea for understanding ringing in her voice. “His daddy died when he was four and he’s been a very protective ‘man-of-the-house’ ever since. Please don’t hold Joanna responsible for anything Tyler says.”

Eyes still shut, Joanna vaguely heard the tapping steps of Lucia’s favorite high-heeled boots fade off into the distance. Maybe if I keep my eyes shut and my head bowed he’ll think I’m praying and go away.

Her hopes rose when she felt the table shift slightly and heard the sound of someone sliding along the wooden bench across from her. He was standing up. He was leaving. Thank you. Once you’re gone, I can crawl in a hole and die.

A large hand slid under her upper arm and gently lifted. “Come, Joanna. We need privacy. This is no’ the place to discuss such sensitive matters.”

Joanna stiffened and pulled back. She barely raised her head, still pressing her hands against her forehead. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared straight ahead. “Can’t you just go away?” She couldn’t look at him. She’d completely lose it if she looked up and saw the disgust and pity that had to be in his eyes. “Please? Just go?”

“Nay. I cannot.” He pulled on her arm again, steady but firmer this time. “Come. We’ve many ghosts betwixt the two of us and I willna lose ye to such. ’Tis time t’send the ghosts back to the hell to which they belong.”

Joanna rose, not sure if her legs would hold her. She’d sworn she’d never tell that damn story again. It had nearly killed her to confess all to Lucia and beg for a place to stay. But God bless her foster sister. Newly widowed and needing comfort herself, Lucia had happily welcomed Joanna in and never once judged her for the idiotic choices that had landed Joanna’s life in the toilet. “We’re sisters,” she’d said with a simple shrug. And that had been the end of the discussion.

“Where are we going?” Joanna asked, finding it difficult to speak above a hoarse whisper.

“My croft.” Grant tossed a few bills on the table, nodded to the waitress, then pressed a hand to the small of Joanna’s back and steered her toward the exit. “?’Tis on the far eastern border of the park. Beside the river and a great deal more private. I’ll borrow one of maintenance’s UTVs.”

“Fine.” She was totally damned. What the hell else could she do? At least, after she’d told him the sad saga of Joanna the Stupid, he’d be done with her and she wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Hopefully, he wouldn’t hold her incompetence with relationships against Carolina Adventures. When it came to business, she had a brain and used it.

“This one here. ’Tis the smoothest ride of the three.” Grant helped her climb into the passenger side of the utility terrain vehicle and securely buckled her in as though she were a child.

Knotting her hands in her lap, Joanna stared out the windshield. Damn, I don’t wanna relive that nightmare again. I really don’t want to tell him about Matthew. But what choice did she have? Thanks to Tyler’s teasing tidbits, she owed Grant an explanation—especially after today and last night. At least then the man would understand why it was better if they went their separate ways before something terrible happened.