Lightning Game (GhostWalkers #17) -Christine Feehan Page 0,59
admitted. “And I have a little advantage in that I’m smaller and lightweight. I get into places easier than he can and go into branches he can’t. Because I’m so light, I don’t leave tracks so easily either.”
“And the cobbler?”
“I haven’t had the chance to eat yours, but I wouldn’t mind trying it just for comparison,” Jonquille said readily.
“I like her,” Patricia said. “Have a seat. I’ll get us something to drink.”
“Are the boys home yet?” Rubin asked. “I was hoping to have a chance to speak with them.” He followed her inside, used to her home, knowing he was welcome.
She glanced over her shoulder and then lowered her voice. “I would have thought it would be Diego bringing a woman home to us first, not you.”
“She was … unexpected. She loves the same things I do. And she includes Diego in everything. She even finds the way we argue amusing. She really is nearly as good in the woods as he is. Mostly, Mama Patricia, she doesn’t make me want to scream when she starts talking. She’s intelligent and she knows when to listen.”
“Does she sound a little too good to be true?” Patricia asked as she gathered up tall glasses for her specialty apple cider drink she preferred to make.
He gave her a little smile. “If you mean, is she too good for me, undoubtedly she is. I haven’t convinced her living in a swamp full time sounds like a dream come true, especially since I’m gone a good deal of the time.”
“If she doesn’t recognize how extraordinary you are, Rubin, she doesn’t deserve you,” Patricia said very quietly as she poured her special cider from a cold pitcher.
Rubin sighed and shoved a hand through his dark hair. “That’s the problem right there, Mama Patricia. I’m so extraordinary. She recognizes it. Diego recognizes it. You do. My team does.” He fought to keep the bitterness out of his voice and knew he hadn’t succeeded when she put the pitcher down and turned to look at him with her all-seeing eyes.
Rubin shook his head and searched for a way to make her understand. She’d been in his life a long time and she knew he worked in a program in the military he couldn’t talk very much about. She had eyes. She was intelligent. “Everyone is so careful to protect me they’re willing to sacrifice their life for me. They don’t see that I think they’re just as extraordinary and just as necessary. I need the members of my team safe. I need Diego safe. I need Jonquille in my life and definitely safe. Like everyone else in my life, she’s willing to protect me. That’s not okay with me. She also thinks I’m this unbelievable man she can’t possibly live up to. I’m so done with that way of thinking. If only they really knew what it was like to be me. To see my failures. They wouldn’t be so quick to be ready to sacrifice their lives.”
Patricia’s soft features reflected her compassion. She was a mountain woman through and through, and tough as nails. She had gone through winters alone, providing for her children after she lost her husband. Through it all, she had retained her innate kindness, that empathy that drew so many to her. That trait was most likely the reason Luther Gunthrie had dared to put on his snowshoes and trek the dangerous miles of wilderness through a blizzard just to check up on her.
“Rubin, never think you’re a failure in any way. The people who love you want to protect you, just as you want to protect them. I want the best for you and for my children. We look out for one another. If your Jonquille wants to protect you, it’s because she does have feelings for you, and that’s a good thing. You’re intelligent and you can work with that.” She turned back to her cider and the glasses. “I have every faith in your ability to win her over.”
The confidence in her made him want to laugh in spite of the seriousness of the conversation. “Because I’m such a romantic man.”
“You are, Rubin. You just aren’t aware of it.”
“You’re mixing me up with Diego. He’s the romantic one.”
“Is he? Would you mind getting the cookie jar down, please? You know where it is. I have apple-walnut bars made. I know they’re your favorite.”
Rubin reached up into the cupboard Edward had made for his mother. Edward had a way with wood.