Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana #3) - Jane Porter Page 0,32
stepdads and bad boyfriends. My mom met my dad at the community college when she was just nineteen or twenty, and they got married and moved to California. My grandparents cut off both their daughters. I never knew my grandparents and never visited their town, either.”
“My family has struggled at different times.”
“But you love each other, and talk to each other, and listen. You also forgive each other when someone makes a mistake, don’t you?”
“So far.”
“Mom didn’t have that growing up, and she found it really difficult being a wife and mom.” Erika paused, remembering. “I think I’m worried that’s my future, too. I think that was the appeal of psychology. Maybe I could learn how to fix myself, while I learned how to help others.”
“You don’t need fixing.”
“I stormed off earlier. It wasn’t mature.”
“I don’t hold it against you.”
“I hold it against me. I should know better. I should be able to do better.”
He was silent a long moment. “I think you’re way too hard on yourself.”
Erika shook her head, uncomfortable, wishing they hadn’t even discussed any of her family, or her past. It never failed to make her feel bad. There had been so much conflict, and so much unhappiness. She hated remembering because it stirred up all the old feelings and all the old pain. “I don’t know that either of them particularly liked me.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I looked too much like my mom, but thought too much like my dad. I was a perfect blend of the two, which didn’t sit well with either of them.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I just wish I’d know then that I wasn’t responsible for their unhappiness. I thought it was my job to fix things, and I couldn’t.”
*
Billy suddenly understood her so much better. He now understood why she’d studied psychology and counseling. He understood why she’d been so determined to reunite Beck with him. He also understood why she hadn’t believed she could manage raising Beck on her own.
She didn’t believe she could.
She didn’t think she had value.
She saw herself as inherently broken.
And it killed him because she was undoubtedly one of the kindest, strongest, most generous women he’d ever met. She asked for little for herself, and yet when she made a mistake, beat herself up endlessly. “What about you and April?” he asked. “Were you close growing up?”
“We used to see each other at Christmas and other holidays as Aunt Sara would try to join us at Christmas, but as we grew older, and Aunt Sara’s boyfriends grew worse, Dad didn’t want Sara over. Sara and April were always welcome, but not Sara’s boyfriends.”
“So Sara stopped coming.”
Erika nodded, her eyes, such an unusual mix of green and blue that they looked different every day, narrowed. “By the time we were teenagers, April and I had very little contact. I didn’t even know I was her emergency contact until they called me after her accident. I feel bad—”
“About everything,” he said, cutting her off. “I know.”
“That’s not fair,” she protested.
“Maybe not, but I have a feeling it’s pretty accurate.”
She lifted her head and looked at him, brow creasing. Thick golden hair framed her stunning face. He wondered if she had any idea of just how beautiful she was, inside and out. If she wasn’t Beck’s person, he’d find it awfully hard to keep his distance. But Beck didn’t just need him, he needed her, and Erika wasn’t the kind of woman you took to bed and then kicked out the next morning, and that was the only kind of woman he got involved with because just as she knew her limitations, he knew his. He wasn’t relationship material. He cared about people, but he didn’t love, not deeply love, not the way a woman wanted to be loved.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked huskily.
“Everyone should be this nice to you. You’re a really good person, Erika Baylor.”
Her mouth curved and then trembled. “Am I?”
He nodded, a peculiar pang in his chest. “One in a million.”
*
Erika went to bed and dreamed sweet dreams. Billy had made her feel good last night, something remarkable considering their fight earlier. After she lost her cool, she usually hated herself for a long time, loathing her lack of control, loathing her inability to handle difficult situations. But Billy had been kind to her and comforting, as well. He’d managed to help salvage an evening that could have been disastrous. She was grateful. However, his insights into