ever the same after the accident that left her unable to have more kids. My father blamed her, and it wasn’t pretty. My mother broke down when I was in high school and spent nearly a year at a mental hospital, or a sanitarium as my father called it.”
My mother’s hospitalization had affected me more than I knew at the time. I got involved with the Future Lawmakers during that time, made decisions I now regretted. Looking back, I saw clearly how her absence had taken its toll.
“Does Daphne know this?”
I nodded. “When she told me her story, I told her my mother’s. It helped us both.”
“And how did you deal with your mother’s absence and your father’s…”
“The word is abuse. I told you it wasn’t pretty, though the physical abuse had stopped by then.”
“Did he abuse you as well?”
“Not physically. Maybe mentally or emotionally, but he did it to make me strong. It worked.”
My mind raced briefly to the two calves I’d grown to love when I was a kid. My father had forced me to go with him to have them slaughtered. I never forgave him for that, but I never got close to another one of our animals. I also could never forgive him for how he treated my mother. I’d put a stop to it once I was big enough.
Despite his flaws—and his flaws were many, some horrifying—I’d learned to have an odd respect for the man who’d taught me…well…everything. Especially since he’d helped me have Wendy Madigan put away so that Daphne and I could marry and have our baby in peace.
“You’re okay, then? You’re strong?”
“I feel like I am. Don’t get me wrong, Jonathan. I know I’m twenty-two and have a lot to learn about life and everything else. But I can run that ranch when my time comes, and I can take care of Daphne and our baby.”
He nodded.
“Daphne also told me she sometimes has strange dreams that scare her, but when she wakes up, she can’t remember them.”
He nodded again. “Did she tell you anything else?”
“Just that you guys made up a story about her living in London for a year.” I swirled the whiskey in my glass. “Oh, and that her best friend moved away after sophomore year.”
“Yes. Sage Peterson.”
“Daphne said she and Sage lost touch.”
He didn’t reply.
“I suppose it’s hard when you’re young, writing letters and all.” I took a sip of my drink.
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Sage didn’t move away, son.”
“Oh? Then why did—”
He gestured me to stop talking. “Sage didn’t move away. She committed suicide.”
My eyebrows nearly flew off my forehead, and my heart thudded. I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t form the words.
“Sage was a lovely girl, very smart. She and Daphne met in kindergarten and were inseparable through sophomore year.”
“Why didn’t Daphne tell me?”
Jonathan sighed. “About the suicide? Because she doesn’t know.”
Huh? I wrinkled my forehead. “How can she not know?”
Jonathan drained the last bit of his whiskey and set down his glass. “Listen, Brad. I want to make this very clear from the start. Lucy and I will always take care of Daphne. No matter what. You have my word.”
“Of course. She’s your daughter. Why are you changing the subject? You can’t drop a bomb on me like that and not tell me what’s going on.”
He cleared his throat and signaled the bartender. “Two more, please.”
I shook my head. “Not for me.” No way did I want another drink, even if I wasn’t driving. This shit was getting heavy, and I wanted my mind at full capacity.
Once the bartender was out of earshot, I faced Jonathan. “What the hell happened to Daphne’s friend?”
“I’ll get to that in a minute. First, you need to understand that Lucy and I will see to Daphne’s needs—and the baby’s, if necessary—if things don’t work out between you two.”
“What do you mean ‘if necessary’? Of course the baby will have needs.”
“I mean, if she decides to keep the baby.”
Damn. My muscles tightened, and everything in me went on alert. My hands curled into fists, and the anger inside me coiled like a snake ready to strike. “We’ve already decided to keep the child. You know this.”
“Just in case things don’t work out with the two of you.”
“Why wouldn’t it work out? And don’t tell me how young we are. We already know that. We took precautions, and this happened anyway. Seems kind of like it was meant to be.”
He smiled then. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I