She shakes her head and crosses her arms over her stomach. “Are you staying?”
“If that’s okay.”
She nods, chewing on her lip.
“Okay. I’ll just be on the couch.”
I take another step toward her, wondering what she’s feeling. Tonight was traumatic, even for me, and I’m not a parent. I have no earthly idea how she’s getting through this, but I just want to be here for her in whatever way she needs.
As I get closer, she tips her head back to look at me. Her eyes fill with tears, and her bottom lip starts to tremble. One single tear spills over the lower rim of her lashes as soon as my hand cups the side of her shoulder.
“Hey, hey.” I pull her into my chest as a sob tears through her.
I wrap both my arms around her, pulling her tightly up against me.
I lay my head down against hers, hating how powerless and weak I feel. There’s not a damn thing I can do about this situation except hug her. She clings to me like I’m the only thing holding her together right now.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m here. I’m right here,” I whisper into her hair.
We rock back and forth as she cries. Emotions clog my throat, but I refuse to let the tears fall. I have to be strong for her right now. She doesn’t need someone who’s falling apart. She needs strength and dependability.
After a few minutes, she starts to quiet down. I lead herover to the sofa and pull her onto my lap. She lays her head against my shoulder, sniffling softly.
“I’m glad you were here tonight. I wouldn’t have survived without you,” she murmurs. Her voice is hoarse.
“I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.”
She exhales and holds on to me for a few more minutes before her breath starts to even out. I stare at the cow skull mounted above the fireplace for a long time, my mind scrambling with how we’re going to work through this with the twisted legal system and Dallas’s ex.
When my arm starts to fall asleep, I stand and carry her back to her bedroom, where the boys are sleeping. They’re cuddled up together on the bed, so I gently lay her down on the open side.
“Mommy?” one of them says.
“Hey, bud. Your mom’s asleep.”
I can’t tell which one it is in the dark, but he peers up at me cautiously before looking down at his mom again.
He scoots over to her and wraps his little arm around her shoulders protectively.
I swallow over the emotion in my throat. I remember being a little boy and wanting to take care of my mom. Pops was a good husband to her, but there’s just something about boys wanting to watch out for their mamas.
Losing mine in a car accident at nine years old changed me forever. I think it’s partly why I’ve always kept emotional attachments to women as far away from my heart as possible.
I slowly sneak out of the room, but I leave the door cracked open just in case one of them needs me tonight.
21
DALLAS
“The CPS caseworker visit was a joke. I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t even bother talking to Matt. She acted like me being concerned about him leaving the kids in the truck after driving with them drunk to the bar was overbearing.
“She literally said, and I quote, ‘Were you often overly critical of your ex-husband’s parenting style? You know, some kids’ fathers are never present in their lives at all.’ Like I’m just some bitchy, hypercritical baby mama!”
I blow out a breath, closing my eyes as my mother’s shrill voice comes through the other end of the phone.
“This is outrageous! I can’t believe they’re treating you that way after what he did! It doesn’t even make sense. How are the boys doing today?”
I glance over at the arena, where Duke is showing them how to take the rope off of the dummy bull horns.
