by Nicole Helm
He didn’t.
“I’m coming with you.”
“I don’t want you.”
“Not what you said last night, sweetheart.” She supposed it was an attempt at a joke, but it was too steely. It was too right.
She wanted him, or she wouldn’t be here against every rational thought in her brain. Since when was her heart stronger than her brain? When did she let that weakness grow?
Dan plucked her keys from her hand and hopped into the driver’s seat of her truck. “You trust me to drive it, remember?” He jammed the key into the ignition, her still standing there staring at him, trying to…
Trying to…
She had no idea.
He took a deep breath, eyes on the dusty windshield. “You can trust me, period, Mel. You don’t have to be afraid to need me. I am not going to hurt you. I am not going to let you down. I am going to make this work, and I am here for you. You’re shaking, honey.”
He said it so emphatically, so sure, her eyes pricked with tears. She had to rub her unfortunately shaking hands over her face, try to find some source of calm, of strength.
“Stop treating me like…” She didn’t know how to finish it, and her voice broke anyway. She just knew he had to stop. He had to stop breaking her apart like this.
“Like what?” It was all gentle and sweet, and she wanted to punch something—him preferably. “Why do you think me offering to help is me hurting you? Whatever’s going on with your family is your problem to handle, but that doesn’t mean you can’t lean on me. It doesn’t mean I can’t drive you, can’t listen.”
“I don’t deserve any fucking help!” Oh, Jesus, she could not do this. Not now. Pour out all that gross, messed-up stuff inside of her. She had a problem to fix. A more important one than that.
“Why wouldn’t you deserve it, honey? Look around you. Everything I’ve built here is because of you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because it’s bullshit, that’s why!” She did not have time for this. She had to get home. To Caleb and Dad and…a sister. They needed her, and she didn’t have a choice.
She’d been telling herself she didn’t have a choice since she could remember. For the first time in her life, it felt like a lie. She had every choice in the world. She’d left. She could never go back if she wanted to.
Not having a choice was one of those lies she’d told herself so often she’d believed it to be true, like Shaw being her.
“Get in the truck. One thing at a time, huh?”
Again with the treating her like she was fragile crap. Did she look fragile? Did she act fragile? She was a motherfucking brick capable of breaking anything.
“If it’s them you want to be strong for, I get it. I do. But you don’t have to be strong for me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Stop saying shit like that.”
“No.”
She could only stare at him. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
He shrugged. “I’m going to keep saying shit like that till you believe it.” He hopped out of the truck, and before she could punch him in the mouth, his mouth brushed hers. His hands grasped her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what you do or don’t do. Everyone will find a way to pick up the pieces. You are not the anchor holding this all together. You’re an equal piece like everyone else.”
It made no sense, not one ounce of it, but the kiss, the words, bolstered all her flagging strength. They slipped along the edges of all her cracks and helped seal them up.
“Now get in the truck. Tell me what happened. We’ll go from there.”
She stared at him for a few humming seconds, trying to figure out what had changed in those pretty green depths. When had everything flipped so he was the one who had it all together and she was the mess?
But she didn’t have time to figure that out, because whether Dan thought she was the anchor or not, that’s exactly what she had to make herself into.
She had to go re-anchor them all. Maybe if she did that, she’d be able to find the old Mel who could handle this. Who knew what to do. Who wasn’t bolstered or strengthened by a man’s words or kisses.
Who wasn’t precariously close to love and all the ruin that came with it.
* * *
He had no idea what he was doing, but Dan was pretty sure Mel didn’t either.
She was even holding on to his hand like it offered some kind of comfort. A comfort she would actually accept.
He drove up the long, winding drive to the Shaw place, and though there were parts of him that regretted his decision to drive her, to try and be the good, stand-up guy, he wasn’t backing down. He wasn’t choking. Not when it came to her.
She was so afraid to let her weakness show, and it hurt to watch. She’d buried her emotions in a no-nonsense strength; he’d left his behind. It seemed like opposites, but in the end they were doing the same thing. He was just clawing his way back to some kind of normal and hoping she’d meet him halfway.
So, hopefully, this was right. He was giving her what he would want. Someone to trust with the hurt, the uncertainty. No one shutting anyone out. No one was walking away. He would be here, the rock she needed even if she couldn’t admit that need.
As he pulled next to the detached garage, a big…thing came into view. Not quite an RV, not quite not an RV. It reminded him of those things the pioneers had supposedly used to go westward in—a covered-wagon thing, only made of wood fixed onto a truck front. Like nothing he’d ever seen.
Dan slowly pulled the car to a stop. He wished he knew something to say, but what could you say to a woman who was finding out she had a long-lost sister? He wasn’t sure there was protocol for that.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said in a whisper, so completely distraught and lost it hurt his heart.
“I’m not sure you’re supposed to.” Wasn’t that a realization? That you didn’t always have to know what to do or how to do it. That maybe it was do your best and hope it worked out, and maybe even keep trying if it didn’t.
Damn.
Caleb stepped out from in front of the caravan, then a swirl of color moved to stand next to him.
“Holy…”
“Shit,” Mel finished before he could.
The woman looked almost exactly like Mel. A little younger, a lot more feminine in her long skirt and fringy top, jewelry dripping from all parts of her.
But the face, the hair—hell, it was even long and in a braid. They had the same sharp nose, the same lush mouth. It was downright eerie.
“I don’t believe she’s Dad’s,” Mel whispered. “How could she be?”
“I thought you said the timeline made it possible.”
“Possible. But…” Caleb and the woman stood there, and Mel stared at them without making a move to get out of the truck. “How could she have left with her and not…”
Before he could register those words, the absolute pain and betrayal in them, Mel was pushing out of the truck, and he had to scramble to follow.
The relief in Caleb’s eyes was short-lived once his gaze traveled from Mel to Dan. “What’s he doing here?” Caleb demanded.
Dan would love to tell Caleb what he was doing here, and it was directly related to Caleb being a grade-A dick to Mel, but he doubted Mel would appreciate it, so he held his tongue.
Mel glanced back at him, but her gaze didn’t connect.
Then she turned to face the woman, her face perfectly chiseled control. Painful control. “I’m Mel Shaw.” She stuck her hand out to the mirror image of her.
So strong, so determined—how could she ever think she was weak or didn’t deserve help? This one-woman wrecking crew, and she didn’t even see herself. Not really.
“I’m Summer,” the woman said, and for all their physical similar
ities, at least their voices were nothing alike. Mel’s all tough and sharp, Summer’s lilting, almost Southern. “Summer Shaw.”
Mel twitched a little at the last name, and her hand dropped to her side. “Shaw.”
“It seems that comes as a shock,” Summer said, and anyone could tell that despite the way she spoke all easy and light, she was not a woman totally at ease or in control.
The direct opposite of Mel.
“I’m sure you can understand our confusion.” Mel sounded the same way she did when she’d negotiated a lower price on the lumber for his llama fence. All business with a thin veneer of forced politeness.
It was uncomfortable in this situation. He was uncomfortable in this situation. Probably because he didn’t belong in this situation. But here he was and here he’d stay for as long as necessary.
“Actually…” The young woman glanced at him, then back to Mel. “I don’t understand. I thought…” Again her hazel eyes, so much like Mel’s, landed on him. “I’m sorry. I’m a little confused myself. Who is that?”
All three pairs of Shaw eyes fell on him. Yeah, he was the odd man out.
“Dan is my…colleague.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
But Mel didn’t backtrack or look embarrassed. She glowered. “He was just leaving.”
Mel sure knew how to hit him where it hurt. Unexpectedly and out of the blue. Here he was, doing this uncomfortable thing. This thing he had no idea how to handle. He was facing up to all sorts of fears for her, and she wanted him gone.
For a second, he considered it. He even took a step toward the truck. She didn’t want him there? Fine. Good, even. He didn’t want to be here.
But he couldn’t escape the truth laid out to him, the truth she’d given him the other night. She was afraid. Afraid of not knowing what to do, and maybe, just maybe, afraid of needing him and trusting him.
No, he wouldn’t stand for that.
“Actually, I think I’ll stay put.”
Mel’s face hardened, if that was possible, but in that hard, determined expression he saw exactly what he’d seen that night in the kitchen where she’d said his care was nice. Where she’d finally admitted she was afraid.
Where he had to skate away from his fear of dependence and feelings to deal, Mel had had to push through. She’d had to bury it all, and in doing that, she’d turned strength and determination into its own kind of escape.
He wouldn’t fall for it anymore. He wouldn’t leave unless he knew it was what she truly wanted, not just what she thought she had to want.
“Dan.”
“If it helps, we’re more than colleagues,” he said to Summer.
“Dan.” She grasped his arm, not kindly. It actually kind of hurt, not that he’d ever admit it. She steered him a few paces away from a confused Summer, a mutinous Caleb.
“Go.”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because you need someone here who has your back. Even if this didn’t involve your brother or father, I know it wouldn’t be them. So it’s going to be me.”
She released him, pressing fingers to her eyes. “Please, don’t…I can’t…figure this out while I’m trying to figure you out.”
“Look, fuck the colleague bullshit, we can deal with that later. I’m not asking you to figure me out. I’m standing behind you. Period.”
“I don’t…” Her hands dropped, clenched and unclenched. She looked at him, trying so desperately, he was sure, to hide the fear swirling in her eyes. She failed. “I don’t know what to do with that,” she said through gritted teeth, dropping her gaze to the ground.
“We can figure it out, honey. I’m not going anywhere.” Not any damn where until he knew she would be okay. Hell, maybe not even then.
Chapter 22
I’m not going anywhere.
Mel supposed it was meant to be comforting and supportive. It felt like a threat, however, him being there, seeing this, seeing her all…vulnerable.
Hadn’t they had enough of this? Of him being there? What was she supposed to do with all this support? How was she supposed to focus on what needed to be focused on when someone was supporting her?
That weakened everything. Swept away all the strength and conviction and left only shaky, untrustworthy emotion.
Damn.
So she had to ignore it. Had to push him and his steadfast support somewhere else and focus. She turned back to the woman. God, she was barely a woman. She looked like a girl. She looked like her as a girl, if she’d ever deigned to play dress up.
She had no idea what to do with this woman. She still wasn’t convinced she was Dad’s, especially since it was so obvious she was Mom’s. Mom could have sent her here. Mom could have…
Dan’s hand pressed against the small of her back. Part of her wanted to shake it off, but in this moment, there was a bigger part that wanted to use that as something to hold her up, to keep her going forward. Someone else’s warm hand and strong muscle to lean against while she did what she had to do.
“I’m a surprise. I get that,” Summer said, looking at her caravan. “Believe me. But…I just wanted to find my family and see…”
“See what?” Mel asked in unison with Caleb, almost feeling sorry for the girl when she flinched.
“I don’t know how to explain it. I only wanted to get away. I know you don’t owe me anything. I’m not looking for anything.” Again she looked at her bizarre vehicle. “Maybe a place to park for a few days, if you’re going to send me away. And I’d like to meet…him, first.”
“Where’s our mother?” She didn’t even want to know the answer to the question, but it felt necessary to ask.
Summer’s expression was all conflicted pain, and Mel had to look away. This girl needed help and Mel didn’t have it in her to help anyone else. Especially a twenty-one-year-old girl searching for some fairy-tale family.
They certainly weren’t it.
“As far as I know, she’s in California. She doesn’t know I’m here. We left on…not great terms.”
“Join the club,” Caleb muttered.
“You can park on our property as long as you need,” Mel said. She wasn’t going to turn the girl away, but she did want this over. “As far as…our father…” She took a deep breath and focused on Dan’s hand on her back, on the fact that he somehow still thought her strong and capable. “He was injured five years ago, and neither his physical nor emotional health are great. I’m not sure seeing you would be good for him.”
Summer’s shoulders slumped. Her voice was barely audible. “I see.”
“He doesn’t know about you.”
Summer’s gaze met hers, hazel eyes that felt like looking into some bizarre, warped mirror. Her not her. All the times she’d looked in a mirror and wondered what was so wrong with her, what drove everyone away.
“He doesn’t,” Mel reiterated. Because Dad couldn’t possibly know about her and have never told them. Known about her and let her go. Known about her and…no. It wasn’t possible.
“Mom claimed he did. That you all did.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “And were very clear you wanted nothing to do with me. With us.”
Something in Mel’s heart twisted. It wasn’t just pity for this poor girl, it was something more like commiseration. “We had no idea, not one, that we had another sibling.”
The girl blinked and, oh shit, a few tears fell on her pale cheeks. How could they look so much alike and yet look so different? It was like some sort of feminine, delicate, gauzy filter over herself, and it was fucking freaky.
Summer cleared her throat. “Sorry, it’s been…a long few weeks, but yeah, I think I believe it was a surprise for you guys. Mom hasn’t always been…honest. I knew I was dropping a bomb. I just… I guess I wanted to find my family, to see if it would be…�
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She never finished her sentence. She used her fingers to wipe away tears, the bangles all over her arms tinkling in the quiet of the moment.
She pushed back all the loose strands of hair—the same color, probably even the same average texture, but somehow looking wavy and shiny and perfect on this…person.
Your sister.
Something in her chest kicked at that. There was no denying it. Sure, when she looked at Caleb there were pieces of herself if she looked hard enough. The sharp slant of their nose—though his was slightly crooked from having it broken a time or two—the way their eyes both crinkled into slits when they smiled in pictures.
But in most areas, Caleb had taken after Dad, blond and blue-eyed and sharp, and she had been her mother’s. Except not at all. She was a Shaw. Looks be damned.
This poor girl with their last name and the mother they barely remembered and a father she’d never met. A family. A history, a place she’d never known.
All the things Mel had been running away from over the past week. It was the kind of reminder that thickened her blood with guilt, even knowing that Caleb and Dad had deserved it. Even knowing it had felt necessary to get out before she crushed to dust under it.
But that looked to be over now. This was not something she could run away from, this lost girl.
Your sister.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to truly accept that. Even if she couldn’t dispute it, she couldn’t just throw her arms around Summer Shaw and welcome her.
“Caleb, why don’t you take her down to the old cabin? The clearing next to it will be a good place to park…that.” She gestured at the strange vehicle. “Though if you don’t mind mice, you’re welcome to stay in the cabin.”
“The caravan is fine. It’s been my home for a while now.”
Mel nodded. Perhaps she should treat this as more than a business interaction, but she didn’t know how, and it wasn’t as if Caleb was saying anything.
“Do you need anything?” Mel asked.