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“God, no.” Mac paled.
Bryn winced. “I was afraid of that. They’re bad, Mac. She tried to poison his mind. And her deliberate mischief-making may have contributed to the drugs. Jesse would have been confused. And hurt.”
“Let me see.” He tried to take the box, but she held on to it for a moment more.
“That’s not all.” She was surprised she was able to speak. Her throat spasmed painfully. “Jesse may not be your son.”
Mac’s big hands trembled. He jerked the box away from her. “Damn it, girl, quit coddling me.”
The room was silent when Mac tossed the last letter in the box and replaced the lid. He set the innocent-looking cardboard container on the desk and laid his head against the back of his chair. His eyes were closed. Bryn was not in the mood to indulge him.
She got to her feet and paced. “Talk to us, Mac. Please.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned his head in her direction. His entire body had deflated. He looked like an old man.
Trent exhaled an audible breath. “Dad. Come clean with us. What’s going on?”
Mac sighed. “I didn’t know about the letters, but I’ve known where Etta was every day since she left.”
Trent looked thunderstruck.
Bryn managed to speak. “I don’t understand. I thought she ran away. Left her kids. Left you.”
Mac nodded. “She did that for sure. And I checked her into a mental facility, because she had a complete, devastating breakdown. She split with reality. Etta has been a patient at the Raven’s Rest Inpatient Facility in Cheyenne for almost two decades.”
Trent gaped. “For God’s sake, Dad. Why did you never tell us? Why did you let us think she ran away?”
“She did run away. At first. But when I found her, she was cowering in a bus station like a wounded wild animal.” Mac’s voice broke, and Bryn saw that even after all the years that had passed, he still loved her.
He continued, his voice thick. “I took her to the hospital. And she was never able to come back home. She was a danger to herself and others. There were a few good days here and there, but for the most part, she lives in an alternate world. I’m honestly shocked that she was able to remember Jesse well enough to be able to write to him.”
“You think Jesse inherited some of her mental instability, don’t you?” Trent’s face had paled, as well.
Mac nodded slowly. “I wanted him to see someone…to get help…medication. Anything that he needed. But he never gave me an inch. Denial was his friend.”
Bryn leaned forward. “So the other men she talks about in the letters? Did they exist?”
Mac’s silence dragged on for tense moments. He was suddenly the epitome of an elderly man. “Yes.” His tone was flat. “She never leaves the facility now. But before…when she was still living on the ranch…there were a couple of episodes. Jesse is probably not my biological son. I’d been gone for a few weeks to a cattle show. The timing…well…let’s just say the odds are against it. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Jesse is dead.”
He got to his feet, almost stumbling, and leaned a hand on the back of the chair. “You were right to show me the letters. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about your mother, Trent. But when you were all boys, I didn’t want you to know. And by the time you were old enough to understand, I’d kept the secret so long, I couldn’t bring myself to expose the truth.”
He hugged his son, and Bryn was relieved to see that Trent gave as good as he got. She had feared he’d be furious. But whatever his emotions, he kept them in check for now.
Mac hugged Bryn, as well. “I love you, Brynnie, my girl. And you’ve always been family to me, with or without Jesse.”
She kissed his cheek. “Sleep well, Mac. I’ll check on you before I go to bed.”
When it was just the two of them, Bryn studied Trent’s face. He wasn’t doing well. She could see it in his eyes, though he stood as proud as ever, his spine straight and his broad shoulders squared off against the world. She took his hand. “Come to the kitchen with me. I’ll fix you something to drink. And I’ll bet Beverly tucked away some of those sugar cookies.”
