changed between them, deepened. They had—he couldn’t mistake that. But whereas he accepted it, anticipated a future they could share, she was putting on the brakes. She’d suffered a betrayal at the lowest moment in her life, when the promise of a new little baby had died. And he didn’t know what to do, what to say, to prove himself. Or if she was even ready to hear it.
“I hope you’re not implying that every man is as stupid as your ex-husband,” he finally said. “Most of us are glad to adopt—I owe my life to such a man.”
“I know that.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes; he could feel her retreating bit by bit, as if she feared she’d said too much and wished she hadn’t. He didn’t want her to regret confiding in him, didn’t want to make everything worse by pleading with her to look at him for the man he was, not in the shadow of her ex-husband.
But he knew she was afraid of being hurt again, by him and her new father and his family. And she would leave him, leave Valentine, rather than risk such betrayal again.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt,” Emily whispered at last. She studied his face with earnest worry. “Maybe I never should have said—”
“No.” He took her shoulders in his hands. “I want to know everything about you. Believe me, I’m grateful for your trust.” He wanted to tell her he loved her, that he always would, that he’d never do anything to harm her—but she didn’t want to hear it, and he felt bewildered and battered trying to think of a way to change her mind.
“You probably want to go now,” she said, a touch of forlorn trembling in her voice.
“No, I don’t. I want to be here with you. We don’t have to say anything more. It will be enough for me.”
She settled against him with a sigh, tucking her head beneath his chin, curling her knees up until they rested across his thighs.
He was lying to himself, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted more. He wanted everything with Emily. If he told her how he felt, she’d just think he was trying to fix everything like usual. He’d spent his life making things happen, but he couldn’t force her to love him.
Joe’s wife, Faith, called Emily the next morning and invited her to dinner that night. Emily thought the woman sounded a bit too cheerful but was glad Faith was trying. For a moment, Emily almost refused, feeling overwhelmed at the thought of them all staring at each other around a table. There would be expectations none of them—including herself—might be able to meet.
But then she thought of Nate, and his concern, and the tenderness in his eyes he no longer hid from her. He’d want to see her tonight, and she wasn’t certain that was a good idea for either of them. They’d gotten too close, and she was still leaving. After everything she’d revealed to him, she was surprised he hadn’t fled from her apartment and her past and all the ways he thought he could fix her. It would be just like him to try hard to make everything better. She was grateful he hadn’t.
So she accepted Faith’s offer, hoping to make Joe happy, for he’d been just as wounded as Emily had by Delilah’s lies.
Their ranch home was larger than the Thalbergs’, but there the similarities ended. Everywhere were touches of the bohemian lifestyle Nate had hinted at, from tarot cards on a table to crystals hung in every window. Faith must be a patron at the Mystic Connection, the new age store in town. The paintings on the walls were medieval or mystical or brimming with abundant nature: flowers, waterfalls, or mysterious forests. Emily saw a cluttered office as she followed Joe and Faith down a hall into the living room, books scattered around a computer, and she remembered Nate’s mentioning that Joe liked to write.
Faith wore a gauzy multicolored, loose gown, her frizzy silver-streaked black hair pulled back from her freshly washed face. Emily found herself charmed by the woman’s forthright manner. As she led Emily into the living room, she gestured to her children with pride, and they all stood up, as if Emily were a business client. She felt hot with embarrassment and nerves.
Three young men—Emily’s brothers—stood around their sister, almost as if she needed protection.
“Emily,” Joe said, “these are our children, Will, Chris, Daniel, and Stephanie.”