life we don’t choose. I didn’t choose these scars. But I definitely have chosen how to use them. I’m smart about it. Aren’t we all? Like wounded animals. We figure out how to guard our pain.”
She swallowed hard. “Nothing ever hurt worse than my mother leaving,” she continued. “Nothing. But it was a lot easier to make you the villain there too. And I did. For a long time. I think Jonathan still does. Because if he doesn’t, then maybe it’s me, and I know he doesn’t want that. And if I don’t, then maybe it’s me too.”
“It was her,” he said, his voice rough. “It was always her.”
Those words settled uncomfortably inside of her. Because it was so easy for her to give her mother a pass. Because she had always let herself believe that maybe things were just harder for her. That maybe Jonathan was made of stronger stuff, that maybe Rebecca was too.
She had thought for a long time that it was because she was protecting her mother. Now, she thought it was just because she was protecting herself. Because behind all of that denial was a wall of rage so intense it might consume her completely.
“She left me,” Rebecca said. “She left me. When I needed her the most. It was never your job to stay,” she said, looking at Gage. “It was her job to stay with me no matter what. Because I was her daughter.” It took all of her strength then, not to double over and howl in pain. This was why she had shielded herself from the reality for all of this time.
But from the moment Gage had walked into town layers had started stripping away. Like an old house being stripped down to the studs, to what created it, to what really made it. Without all of the excuses and the renovations to hide the truth.
And now, finally, she felt like they were at the center of it. At the heart of it.
“I think I hate her,” Rebecca whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.
Strong arms came around her, pulling her against his body. He stroked her hair, and the tender gesture only made her cry harder.
“I know I do,” he said, his voice husky.
“It felt good to say it,” she said, her voice muffled. “It doesn’t fix anything though.”
“Well, that doesn’t really matter. What matters is that it felt good, right?” He tightened his hold on her. “It’s nice if you can feel good for at least a little while.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing? All those years on the road? Trying to feel good just for a little while.”
“I told myself that I was punishing myself. It sounded a lot more gallant than running away. Like I was denying myself something by being away from my family. But, you’re probably closer to the truth.”
“I was running away too. Just in place.”
The moment she said it, she knew it was true. She thought back to all the little birds that decorated her shop. How much she liked them. How much she had always identified with them. They could go wherever they wanted but they always stayed in the same place.
She realized that’s what she was doing. She was hiding right there in Copper Ridge, using it as an excuse too.
“You know what? It would’ve made more sense for me to leave.”
“You think so?” he asked.
“Of course. I’ve always talked about how everyone here feels sorry for me, treats me like I’m special—or broken—because of my scars. All the men here know me. And that makes it hard. So I could go somewhere and make myself a stranger. A place that doesn’t have my history. But then... How could I use it?” She laughed. “My family doesn’t have any kind of great reputation, and I still stayed. Being a stranger somewhere would be an asset to me. I wouldn’t be the abandoned, scarred daughter of a single mother. But, out there on the road you’re not Nathan West’s son. That doesn’t help you at all.”
He stiffened. “Well, that was part of it. I didn’t want to be Nathan West’s son. Not anymore. Not when I realized what all that meant.”
She swallowed hard. “I would have been tempted.”
“Tempted to do what?”
“To stay. To use all of the power. It’s a ‘get out of jail free’ card. I’ve never had one of those. I mean, aside from my scars, which I used as best I could. That’s what most of us do. We