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He cocked his head, pulling his hand out of her grasp and stepping backward behind an invisible fence. “You don’t have to pamper me. I’m not dying. But I guess you were smart to say no to my proposal. Who knows what crazy genes are rattling around inside me? I don’t know which is worse—a mother who will abandon her children on a whim, or a raving maniac.”
His sarcasm made her flinch. “Don’t do that, Trent,” she said urgently. “Give yourself time to process this. You’ve had a shock.” She turned to Mac’s desk. He’d been known to keep a flask for emergencies. “I’ll pour you some whiskey. You deserve it after the day you’ve had.”
Trent’s laugh held little amusement as he took the tiny shot and tossed it back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes bleak. “There’s not enough whiskey in the world to fix this.”
“It will be okay,” she said, trying to believe it.
It was as if he never heard her. “I’m going to have to be the one to call Gage and Sloan. I can’t make Mac do it. He could barely tell me. Damn it to hell.” Trent hurled the small glass against the wall and smiled with grim satisfaction when it shattered into a dozen pieces.
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” she insisted. “It can wait until morning. When you’ve calmed down.”
“I’m perfectly calm,” he said, his tone blistering. “Go to bed, Bryn. This doesn’t concern you.”
“You concern me,” she said. He was trying to hurt her…and he succeeded. But her own concerns had to be pushed aside temporarily for his sake. He needed to let go, let the anguish out, and hang on to someone else for a few minutes. But such perceived weakness wasn’t in his repertoire. He was a Sinclair male. That particular animal was trained not to show weakness. Not to anyone.
She knelt to clean up the mess, and Trent barked at her.
“I said…go to bed.” His eyes blazed in a white face.
She finished her task and dropped the pieces into the trash can. “I don’t want to leave you right now. You need me.”
He went still, and in that split second, she knew she had made a mistake. His lip curled. Any tenderness she’d ever imagined in his steely gaze had been obliterated by fury and suffering that was painful to witness.
“I don’t need anyone, Brynnie. So leave me the hell alone.”
Bryn gave herself and her son one last, precious twenty-four-hour period to enjoy the ranch. Their return flights, along with Beverly’s and the nurse’s, were booked for the following day.
She did her best to make her mind a blank. All that mattered now was ensuring that Allen and Mac spent time together and that Allen had one last opportunity to explore the ranch. She was the one making a decision to leave this time, but the end result was the same. She had to say goodbye to the two men she loved. And to the home where she had grown up with so many happy memories.
Allen ran circles around her when she lagged behind on their walk. Her sleepless night was catching up with her. She held up a hand. “Mommy needs to rest a minute.” They were climbing a slight rise, and the two or three hours of sleep she’d had during the long, bleak night weren’t enough to give her any energy at all.
She spied a boulder up ahead near the trail, one of many left behind when the glaciers retreated, and made a beeline for it. They were in sight of the house. Their trek had taken them in a big circle.
They sat down and Allen put his head in her lap, a move that said louder than words that he wasn’t entirely back to normal. She stroked his hair. “I have something to tell you, sweetheart.”
He yawned and swiped at his nose with a dirty hand. “Okay.”
She hadn’t expected it to be quite so hard. “You know how I told you I lived here when I was growing up?”
He nodded.
“Well, Mac had a son, Jesse, who was my age. I fell in love with him and that’s how you were born.”
“But my daddy died.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t we live with him?”
This was the tricky part. Allen sat up and looked at her with big curious eyes. She bit her lip. “Ah, well…your dad was very sick and he couldn’t help take care of a little boy.”
