“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
His keen gaze met hers. “Facts are facts. If you aren’t familiar with the past, you’re just going to repeat it.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that quote before. But maybe we use the past too often as a pattern, instead of searching for new solutions.”
Wyatt closed his book and slotted it into an opening on the shelf, before turning toward her. “An interesting point of view. Sounds as if you’ve done some reading of your own.”
“Not really. Not...lately.” She moved away from the shelves. Away from his attention. “My parents were both teachers. They talked about ideas at the supper table.”
“That’s a good way to learn.”
Foolish, to bring up such painful memories. “It should have been. But I was a careless teenager, more involved with my friends and boys than what they had to say.” Running a finger along the top of the rocking chair, she blew out a deep breath. “I wasted the opportunity.”
“It’s never too late to learn.”
“Oh, I think sometimes it is. Right now I’m more concerned about what to do for Nathan and Amber than what happened thousands of years ago.”
“You do have some decisions to make. Forgive me for butting in, but I’m hoping one of them isn’t to go back to that bastard who hurts you.”
The intense anger in his voice mirrored her own. “That’s not an option. He stepped over the line tonight with Nathan. I can’t let him hurt my children.”
“Good for you.”
She gripped the rail of the rocker with both hands. “But I don’t know what comes next. Ford said something about an order of protection. Are we supposed to stay in the trailer after that? Where will Travis live? If he stays there, how will I get the children’s clothes and toys?” Once again, concerns and uncertainties ambushed her, buzzing in from all directions. “Where will I get a job in a place as small as Bisons Creek? Or do we have to move to find work? Where? How can I secure a place to live without a paycheck? What about—”
Appalled, Susannah clapped her hands over her mouth to stop the flow of words. What had possessed her to unload on Wyatt Marshall like that? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered from behind her palms.
He came to stand about an arm’s length away. “I can solve a couple of those problems.”
She uncovered her face. “You’ve already done more than enough. I shouldn’t be bothering—”
“Maybe you ought to stay here for a while. At least for the summer, while your son’s in camp.”
“I couldn’t possibly impose on you for so long.”
“You could if you worked as our housekeeper and cook.”
Hearing the words made her mind go blank. She could only stare at him in shock.
“Even if I wasn’t trussed up in this brace, I’ve never been much good in the kitchen,” he said with a lift of his big hands. “Or the rest of the house, for that matter. This summer, my brothers are going to be tied up with the ranch work I can’t do, plus the kids in the camp. Dylan’s got sculptures to work on, Garrett has his responsibilities at the church, and Ford will be going back to his law office in San Francisco soon. We really need somebody who can take care of this place, maybe put together a meal for me now and then. We would pay you, of course. And you’d be safe here while you got things...straightened out...with your husband.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.” She could barely breathe, let alone think. “C-can I give you an answer tomorrow?”
“Sure. Whenever you decide. In the meantime, make yourself at home.” His smothered yawn seemed too convenient to be real. “I believe I’m ready to hit the sack. Just flip the light off when you’re ready.” He stopped at the doorway to the hall but didn’t glance back. “Night, Susannah. Come on, Honey.”
She started, then realized that was the dog’s name. “Good night.” On impulse, she added, “What time do you eat breakfast?”
Wyatt pivoted to face her again. He wore a big grin. “I’m sleeping late these days, don’t get up much before six or six thirty.” Touching two fingers to an invisible hat brim, he nodded. “See you in the morning.”
Standing in the living room, Susannah listened as his footsteps receded down the hallway. Wyatt Marshall struck her as a remarkable man. Despite his injury, he seemed to be in control—of himself, of his surroundings, of life in general. And his generosity amazed her. Not only was he holding a summer camp for teenagers on his ranch, but he’d offered a solution to her most pressing problem—she and the children could stay on the ranch while she saved up the money she needed to find a new home and a real job. His kindness might even extend to giving her a reference she could use when she applied. How helpful that would be!
After turning out the living room lamp, she went back to the lovely guest room, where she saw that Amber still hadn’t stirred. With her shoulders sagging under the weight of fatigue, Susannah folded down the covers on her side of the bed, finally ready to rest. She had just lifted her feet off the floor when her cell phone gave a familiar ring.
Travis.
She jumped up and grabbed her purse off the dresser, rummaged for the phone...but then hesitated as it rang again. Should she answer?
With the third ring, Amber frowned and her eyelashes fluttered. “Mommy?”
Susannah leaned over to put a palm on her daughter’s shoulder. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.” With her free hand, she pushed the button to talk. “Hello?”
“Susie? Susie, honey, where are you?” His words were slurred. “I miss you, sweetie. Come home.” He’d moved through the anger phase of being drunk and would now become more and more maudlin. If she were there, she’d put him to bed and he’d sink into unconsciousness.
“Susie?”
“I can’t come home.” The words were hard to say. She’d loved him for so long. Just not anymore. “We won’t be back, Travis.”
“Don’t say that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, honey.” He sniffed hard, as if he was crying. “I’ll change. Really, I will. I’ll go to AA. That social worker can help me.”
Thirteen years of promises were as much as she could take. “No, Travis. Not this time.”
The rage flared up. “They’re my kids, too. You can’t keep them from me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered Nathan, crumpled on the floor where his father had thrown him earlier that night. “I told you that if you hurt them, I would keep them away from you. And you did that tonight.”
In the long silence that followed, she could hear his fractured breathing, could picture him trying to pull himself together.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said. “Give me another chance, Susie. We’ll make it work.” When she didn’t answer, he continued to plead. “We were good together, you know? We’ve had lots of
