Silver Thaw

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Silver Thaw Page 21

by Catherine Anderson


  In this room, no night-light glowed; only a faint hint of moonshine came through the window. But Jeb saw Mandy wipe under her eyes. “Are you saying that I’m that way—that I don’t understand what happened to me?”

  “In emotional ways, yes. You don’t need to work on everything at once, honey. For now, just tackle the feelings that make you blame yourself, and shove them away. Every time you start to think others blame you, shove that away, too. Mark punished you enough. Don’t let him continue to hurt you now by believing a single word he ever said.”

  “But some of it is true.”

  “No. It’s all BS, Mandy. All of it.”

  “Then why do I feel so—” She gulped and gestured with limp hands. “My brain goes in circles. I talk to myself. I pat myself on the back for having found a way to get Chloe out of there. I feel better for a while, but then bad thoughts zoom back in, and I feel so inadequate and guilty. I couldn’t stop him from doing horrible things to my little girl. I couldn’t get her away from him. Can you understand? It’s not that I want to have a self-pity party. I just can’t shake the guilt. I was an adult. What Mark did to me, I partly deserved because I married him and didn’t find a way to get away. But Chloe? She’s never done a wrong thing. It was my job to protect her, and I failed. Instead, Mark beat the hell out of me for trying to interfere, and Chloe ended up being my nurse. Five years old, Jeb, and she had to be the adult because I was curled up on the floor, bleeding and with broken ribs.”

  Jeb reached up to smooth her hair. “Mandy, sometimes the most difficult part of recovering from horrible things is forgiving ourselves. Why do you think so many soldiers come home from war zones with PTSD? You’ve got to stop torturing yourself with what-ifs. You did the best you could. And in the end, you did save your daughter. Focus on that.”

  “Not in time. I didn’t save her in time. You’ve commented on how mature she seems. That’s why. The night he burned her hand and turned on me for trying to stop him, he knocked me down and kicked me so many times that I couldn’t get up. I bled on the icky old linoleum. I lay there watching my little girl, with a badly injured hand, get on her knees and try to take care of me. Then she tried to clean up the blood because when her father came back, there would be hell to pay if the mess wasn’t gone.”

  Jeb opened his arms and murmured, “Come here.” And when she came, he wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another woman. The way she went limp against him was a sign that she no longer abhorred physical contact with him, and, in fact, invited it. It took all his self-control not to take advantage of that. She felt so soft and warm that he wanted to lose himself in her, to taste her skin, to hold her close with both their bodies filmed with sweat, to peak with her into ecstasy. Bad timing. She wasn’t ready for that, and his gut knotted when he realized she might never be.

  She settled against him like a kitten seeking warmth. His eyes burned as he folded his arms around her. He hurt for this woman in ways that he’d never imagined possible. “You hear Mark’s voice. Now I want you to shove his away and start hearing mine. Can you try to do that?”

  She nodded, dampening his shirt with her tears. “I can try.”

  “You’re beautiful, not ugly. You’re smart, not stupid. You never deserved a single thing Mark did to you. You were responsible for nothing he did to Chloe. You plotted and planned and took huge risks to get your daughter away from him. And here you are tonight, safe.”

  “Only because of you.”

  “I couldn’t have done a damned thing if you hadn’t had the guts to come to Mystic Creek. If you hadn’t been so ingenious, planning every tiny detail before you ran, you never would have made it this far, and I never would have met you.” Jeb pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “If you think other people blame you, count the heads of the men downstairs. They’re here to protect you. They haven’t even asked for details. All they know is that you were married to an abusive monster and you managed to get away. They take their hats off to you, and they’ve got their guns loaded for him. Not one of them blames you. You’re a victim. Your daughter is a victim.”

  “They’re your brothers. They’re taking your side, not mine.”

  Jeb felt so frustrated. How could he reprogram her mind? “Your attorney isn’t my brother. When we first walked in, he was curt and rude. After he heard your story and saw those pictures, whose side did he take?”

  “Mine, but he’s being paid a lot of money to—”

  “Mandy, the guy is richer than we can imagine. He doesn’t need or want your money. Charging you a fee is nothing but professional protocol. He stepped in to be your champion only because he sees that you need and deserve his help. He even complimented you on how incredibly smart you were in executing your escape.”

  She moved away a bit to peer through the gloom at him, her eyes glistening. “I don’t remember him saying anything like that.”

  Jeb tapped her temple. “Mental block. You’re hearing Mark’s voice and no one else’s. He created an off-kilter image of you in your mind. Abusive men often isolate their victims, and then they fill their heads with junk. Making a woman feel stupid, ugly, clumsy, and totally without any marketable talent—well, the list is endless. It helps the abusive man to maintain control. He implants in the woman’s mind that if she leaves him, she’ll be jumping from the frying pan into the fire.”

  She nodded. “He did do that. He isolated me from everyone, all my friends, even my parents.”

  “A classic case.”

  Jeb knew he was out of his depth. Amanda needed to win a battle against Mark. She needed to walk away knowing that she’d finally smashed him. She also needed professional help to wipe the ugliness from her mind and sow new thoughts. He couldn’t help her do that. He wanted to, but he didn’t know how.

  Releasing her, he pushed himself to his feet. “Mop up that pretty face and come downstairs. I’m going to make something to eat. You barely touched your chili tonight, and one bowl for each of my brothers was barely a drop in their buckets. They’ll be taking shifts all night, and they’ll need food. My mom swears all of us have holes in the bottoms of our feet because she can never fill us up.”

  Wiping her cheeks, Amanda stood. “I’ll cook. That’s my job now. Remember?”

  Careful, Jeb. “You’re right; it is your job now. But in your job description, I don’t recall feeding a bunch of hungry men being part of the bargain. At least let me be the cook’s assistant.”

  She followed him out into the lighted hall. The smile she sent him was faint but warm. Her face was puffy from crying. “What are we fixing?”

  “I’m thinking that a gigantic pot of beef stew will keep them happy, and yours is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  Keeping pace with him as he moved toward the stairs, she said, “Along with homemade bread?”

  Jeb chuckled. “Damn, Mandy. If you feed them that well, they may move in.”

  On the surface, Jeb tried to project good cheer, but as he worked beside Amanda in the kitchen, troubling thoughts drifted through his mind. According to the attorney, restraining orders were mostly ignored by abusive men. So, what protection did women truly have? New laws and much stiffer punishments were in order for men who ignored restraining orders.

  Now Jeb understood how masterfully Mark had disempowered Amanda. The journey to recovery would be daunting for her. Jeb could only hope that she allowed him to walk beside her over that rocky path.

  * * *

  When Amanda took the bread from the oven, she could have sworn she’d rung a dinner bell. Men converged on the kitchen, grabbed a slice, buttered it at high speed, and then returned to their posts.

  “I get first dibs on the stew!” Amanda heard one of them yell from his outlook spot. “I didn’t get to eat over at Mom’s.”

  Amanda had seen only Jeb, Jonas, and Barney at Kate’s table, so she guessed the voice belonged to Ben. Jeb headed in that
direction, and soon a tawny-haired man entered the kitchen. He resembled Jeb, but Amanda could see marked differences.

  “I’m Ben. I don’t think we were formally introduced.”

  When he thrust out his right arm, Amanda wiped her damp fingers on a towel and turned to shake hands with him. “Amanda. It’s good to meet you.”

  His stomach growled, and he grimaced. “Sorry. I’m running on empty.”

  Amanda grabbed soup bowls and spoons, and carried them to the kitchen table, where huge mounds of sliced bread filled two platters. While Ben dished up from an oversize silver serving bowl, she tore paper towels from a roll and began folding them.

  “Don’t bother with that,” Ben said, drawing back a chair to sit down. “Our last name may sound fancy, but trust me, we don’t claim to be made of silver.”

  Amanda couldn’t help but smile. He reminded her a lot of Jeb. “That’s good,” she said. “It’s plain stew, nothing fancy about it.”

  He bent his head and silently blessed his meal before taking a bite. “Oh, man, this is so good.” His hazel eyes twinkled with humor. “Don’t even tell me Jeb threw this together. He’s a great cook, but his talents don’t run to stew.”

  Taking a seat across from him, Amanda asked, “What things does he like to cook?” She considered this a good opportunity to discover Jeb’s preferences. “He just hired me to keep house and cook for him. I could use some tips.”

  Ben wiped his mouth. “He’s off the chart with meats and poultry.” His gaze lighted up again. “All store-bought, according to Chloe.” He glanced toward the kitchen window and leaned closer to whisper, “All his chickens will now have to croak from old age with that little girl in the house. And he asked me if I knew of any pasture for rent where he can put his steers until they’re ready for the freezer.”

  Amanda rested her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her folded hands. “It’s very sweet of him to protect Chloe’s innocent view of where her food comes from. But she won’t be here forever. When I get on my feet, we’ll find our own place, and Jeb’s life can return to normal.”

  Ben chuckled. “‘Normal,’ meaning ‘lonely’? That’s what my brother was before you came along. He’d rather eat store-bought chicken for the rest of his life than lose you.”

  Amanda’s heart jerked. “He can’t possibly have told you that. We barely know each other.”

  Ben refilled his bowl, grabbed another piece of bread, and launched into the story of his parents’ courtship. They’d met on the shore of Mystic Creek, it had been love at first sight, and they’d married less than a month later. “They’ve been together—well, I can’t remember how long, but they’re as in love today as they were in the beginning. It’s not always about how long people know each other. Sometimes they just instantly click. You know?”

  Amanda wasn’t certain what to say. “What do you do for a living, Ben?”

  “I raise rodeo stock. Have you ever been to a rodeo?”

  “Years ago.”

  “Well, all those bulls, calves, and horses are often rented from guys like me who raise rodeo stock. It puts me on the road a lot during the season. The rest of the time, I care for the animals, train them, and do my best to keep them in shape for competition.” He shrugged. “Out on the road, it’s my job to make sure my animals aren’t mistreated. There are laws to protect them, but some people ignore them if they can.”

  After Ben rinsed out his dishes and stowed them in the dishwasher, Jonas came to the table. “I’m studying for a bachelor’s degree. I really don’t want to talk about that because I’m facing finals at the beginning of December.” He flashed a grin. “Yes, I overheard your conversation with Ben and heard you change the subject on him. I’m sorry Jeb is relieving us of duty so we can eat. Otherwise he’d play referee.”

  “Um, so far I haven’t felt I needed one.”

  “You will,” he replied. “All of us hope you’ll hook up with Jeb. He’s our big brother, you’re perfect for him, and it’s hard for us to keep our noses out of it.”

  After blessing his food, he took a bite of stew and made appreciative noises. He winked at her. “For me, talking about my major is the equivalent of shop talk. I’ve been studying to the point of near blindness, and when I get a break, it’s the last thing I want to think about.”

  The gleam of intelligence in his hazel eyes told Amanda that he’d probably ace his tests without half trying. “Okay. No questions about your major. How about your social life?”

  He shook his head as he swallowed again. “No time for one.”

  “Not even dating occasionally?”

  “Nope. My first year of college, I messed around. Partied. Went out with girls. Cut classes. And before a test, I crammed. My dad let me screw around and didn’t complain about my grades. The following summer, he waited until it was almost time for me to go back before he brought down the hammer. He’d given me time to sow my wild oats. From that point forward, if I messed around, I’d do it on my own dime. I knuckled down, kept my nose in the books, missed few lectures, and my grades shot up so high it surprised even me.”

  Amanda smiled. “So now you’re all business.”

  “Mostly. Dad’s paying for my education. I work for him all summer, he pays me a decent wage, but that’s barely enough to take care of my truck and pay for insurance. If he’s paying the tab, I don’t goof off anymore.”

  “That’s admirable.”

  He spread butter on some bread. “No, that’s smart. Otherwise I’d be going to school on loans.”

  Drawn by the smell of food, Bozo appeared at Amanda’s elbow. She rose to pick out edibles from the stew for him and set the bowl on the floor. After a quick gobble and a hunk of bread for dessert, the dog lumbered back upstairs. Amanda was relieved. Even with men watching the property, Chloe would be safer with Bozo beside her.

  As she resumed her seat, Jonas was refilling his bowl. “So, what’s the deal between you and Jeb? Please tell me you’ve got feelings for him. If you don’t, he’s going to get his heart broken.”

  Amanda propped her chin on her hands again. “So what did you say your major in college is?”

  He narrowed an eye at her, and then they both laughed. “Okay, I’ll back off,” he conceded. “You can’t blame a guy for putting in a good word for his brother, though. I love him.”

  “I didn’t hear a good word,” she countered.

  Jonas frowned. “You’re right. I went straight past those and got to the point.” He took a bite of stew and swallowed. “Jeb has a good heart. His character is as sterling as his last name. He’ll never lift a violent hand to you or your daughter. I guarantee you that.”

  By the time Barney came to the table, Amanda had decided she’d be better off doing dishes rather than visiting. She was beginning to trust Jeb. It was nearly impossible not to grow fond of him. But she wasn’t ready for any kind of commitment, short term or otherwise.

  When Barney came into the work area with his dishes, she took them from him. “I’ll take care of the cleanup,” she told him. “I hope you enjoyed the meal. Jeb plans to put the stew in the warmer, so it’ll be available all night. You probably know better than I do where all the snacks are, but I’m sure Jeb will want all of you to help yourselves.”

  Moments later, Jeb reentered the kitchen, rolled up his sleeves, and began helping her clean up. Giving her a sidelong glance, he said, “What?”

  Amanda guessed he’d read something in her expression that concerned him. “It’s nothing.”

  Jeb turned on a faucet. “Uh-oh. Have my brothers been singing my praises?”

  Amanda relaxed slightly. “Actually, I think they’d plan the wedding if I gave them the go-ahead.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t take them seriously. It’s just that I always strike out with women.” He leaned sideways to drop a table knife into the flatware bask
et. “Well, actually, that’s not true. Women normally strike out with me. I guess I’m too particular.” He grabbed a damp cloth to start cleaning the stove. “All of my bros think you’re special. They know I’m falling for you. They’re just trying to hit a few homers for me.”

  Amanda took her time before replying. “I’m still a married woman. I’ve been away from Mark for only three, almost four, months. I’ve got a lot of baggage. Don’t fall for me, Jeb. I’m a really bad bet.”

  He turned to study her. “I’ll decide if you’re a bad bet. I’m a big boy. The last thing you need right now is to worry about hurting me. No strings, no expectations. Ignore my brothers. Let’s take it step by step and see where time leads us. Deal?”

  I’m falling for you. Those were the words that rang loudest in Amanda’s mind. She didn’t want to wound this man with his gentle hands and generous heart. She wasn’t the special one; he was. “Deal,” she agreed.

  He resumed scrubbing the Viking stovetop. “Gowdy will be here first thing in the morning. I called him while I was standing guard to let my brothers eat. He’s got some high-quality cameras and monitors on hand. He’ll bring in a crew and have a top-notch security system installed by tomorrow night. My brothers will be able to leave as soon as it’s in.”

  “It’s not that I dislike your brothers. I just—”

  “I understand. They’re nice guys, but they’re trying to push you in a direction you’re not quite ready to go.”

  “It’s a direction I may never feel ready to go,” Amanda clarified.

  Jeb nodded. In the golden wash of overhead light, he looked so handsome in profile that Amanda wondered if she was out of her mind to discourage him. He’d be such a good father to Chloe, and any woman who snared him as a husband would be lucky. “I understand that, too,” he assured her.

  Amanda wasn’t certain he did. Stepping close to him, she forced herself to utter words she’d never dreamed she might. She whispered, “I hate sex.”

 

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