too. In civilian life he’d been unreliable. The army had sorted him out eventually. But it wasn’t a truth that Cassie needed to know.
“I’ll tell her enough,” he said quietly.
Ruthie looked unconvinced. “And will you tell her that Doug McCord got your eighteen-year-old girlfriend pregnant and then dumped her right before he stole your inheritance?”
No. Tanner had decided. He wouldn’t be telling Cassie anything about the girl who’d cheated on him with his brother and when she’d gotten pregnant how Doug had bailed on his responsibility. Or that his brother had taken the money put in trust for Tanner when he reached twenty-one, and used it to fund his partying and gambling. It had ended badly. For him. For Doug. For everyone. But telling tales wasn’t his style. And it had been twelve years ago. There was no point in rehashing old betrayals.
“Still protecting him?”
Ruthie’s voice got his attention again. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt unnecessarily.”
“Anyone?” Her silvery brows came up. “You mean Cassie Duncan?”
“I mean anyone,” he emphasized.
“She should be told,” Ruthie said, relentless. “Putting him on a pedestal won’t change the truth. You were too quick to forgive and forget.”
I haven’t forgiven.
Not yet. It was why he’d come back. Why he had to make things right for his nephew.
Losing Leah had hurt. Even though their relationship was new and filled with the usual teenage angst, he’d fallen for her quickly. Four months later she’d announced she was pregnant and in love with his brother. But Doug made it clear he didn’t want her or the baby and skipped town, taking Tanner’s inheritance with him. Unable to get past such a betrayal, it was all the motivation Tanner needed to pack his bags and leave Crystal Point. He spent close to two years backpacking in Europe before Doug finally tracked him down and by then Leah and the baby she’d tragically miscarried were a distant memory to his brother. Doug returned some of the money, said he was sorry, and Tanner did his best to believe him. But the experience had forever changed their relationship. He came home, stayed with Ruthie for a month and then moved to South Dakota.
And he’d never really looked back.
Until now.
Until Cassie.
But he’d already loved one woman who’d preferred his brother. He wasn’t about to do that again. No matter how much her blue eyes haunted his dreams.
Still, he was tired of being angry. Tired of resenting Doug and wishing things were different. Tired of living in the past. For years Tanner had battled the anger he’d felt toward his brother. It had kept him shut off and restrained in relationships with almost everyone he knew. Except for Ruthie and his closest friend, Grady Parker, who knew some of what happened between him and his brother.
Almost losing his life in the accident had shifted his perspective. Tanner didn’t want to be angry anymore. He wanted to live the rest of his life without blame and bitterness. And to do that he had to truly forgive Doug. Only then would he find the peace of mind he craved.
“I know what I’m doing,” he assured the old woman sitting opposite.
But he was pretty sure she didn’t believe it.
She nodded anyway. “So, you gonna stay there tonight?”
“No,” he replied. “I’ll check into a hotel in Bellandale.”
“Nonsense,” she huffed. “You’ll stay here.”
Tanner grinned. “You know, you’re getting bossy in your old age.”
“Hah...I’ve always been bossy.” Ruthie’s throaty laugh made him smile. “Besides, I’ve got a new colt that needs breaking.”
Tanner tapped his leg. “I’m not quite back in the saddle yet.”
“No problem. I just need help mouthing and long reining.” Ruthie’s brows came up and she grinned. “You still look fit enough for that. As long as you can do it without whining like a girl.”
Tanner laughed loudly. Ruthie always cheered him up. He left a short time later and headed back to Cassie’s. She was in the front yard when he pulled into the driveway. Oliver’s stroller was parked nearby in the shade and Mouse sat by the front wheels. She wore cutoff jeans, a gray T-shirt, trainers and thick gardening gloves. A bougainvillea twisted up and across the paling fence and she was cutting off some of the biting vines as he approached.
He patted the dog and flipped his sunglasses off. “Gardening?” He stood by the stroller. “Looks like fun.”
Cassie stepped back and turned. “Well, maybe not fun, but necessary at least. I’ve neglected the yard since Oliver arrived. My grandfather always took such pride in his garden.”
Tanner looked around, hands on hips. “It’s a big yard. Perhaps getting someone in would be a better—”
She stiffened. “I can do it.”
“I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to.” He smiled at the defiance in her expression. “Would you like some help?”
Cassie nodded and bent to collect the gloves. “If you have time. I could make lunch.” She stilled and met his gaze. “Unless you’ve already eaten?”
“No, I haven’t.”
She held out the gloves. “Great. I’ll take Oliver inside and you see if you have any more luck cutting back that vine. See you back in the house in half an hour.”
Tanner grabbed the gloves and clippers and got to work on the overgrown vine. He made short work of it and once the branches were hacked he hauled them into a respectable pile. But the spikes, he discovered, were unforgiving and the razor-sharp thorns bit through his T-shirt. He pulled the shirt off, removed the spikes from the fabric and re-dressed before he headed up the path and toward the house.
He cleaned up in the laundry and Cassie was in the kitchen making sandwiches when he rounded the corner and stalled by the threshold. She looked up instantly and brought plates to the table.
Tanner spotted the stroller by the table. “Is he asleep?”
“Yes. I gave him a small bottle and he went out like a light.”
Tanner walked into the room and peered into the stroller. Oliver’s little face looked peaceful. It occurred to him that he might be able to help out with the baby. “You don’t...you know...feed him yourself?”
Her brows came up slowly. “Do I breast-feed, you mean?”
Tanner tried to ignore the ridiculous heat that crawled up his neck. “Yeah.”
She shook her head. “I did for a few weeks. But after that I couldn’t.”
