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“Cal,” Holt growled warningly over his shoulder, shaking his head.
His older brother ignored him and remained focused on me.
“Yes, he got them for being injured in Afghanistan. He told me his team was ambushed.”
“Ah, yes. All true. It’s how he received the Purple Heart. But did he tell you he was responsible for saving three of his buddies?”
I stared in amazement at Holt. “No, he didn’t,” I answered, crossing my arms and giving Holt an accusatory look.
“No, of course he wouldn’t tell you. But he did. He risked his life to drag those men who were gunned down and fell in the road. He went back three times to drag those men to safety. That’s how he got shot. I just thought you should know that when Holt cares about someone, there’s nothing he won’t do for them.” He turned and left, leaving Holt and me alone.
I wasn't sure how to react. I wanted to leap and shout at Holt’s earlier admission. At the same time, I wanted to run and hide, my instinct of self-preservation trying to remain at the top of the heap of my jumbled up emotions.
"I'm sorry." Holt was still facing the wall, head down with one hand in his pocket, one hand braced against the wall. "I don't think I've ever said those words to anyone as many times as I've said them to you. Not even my mom, and you heard how she demands an apology." He turned and rested his back against the wall and gave me a half smile.
"For someone so small, she certainly knows how to make bigger men do what she says," I snickered. "I'm sorry, too. I've been blamed my whole life for things that weren't my fault, and it's easy to be defensive. You seemed so mad at me, so I assumed you blamed me for the fire. But Holt, I didn't do it."
He leaned his head back and blew out a breath, staring at the ceiling. "I know that. I wasn't angry with you." He slanted his eyes down to look at me. "I felt kind of helpless, and I don't like that feeling."
I had a feeling that wasn't easy for him to admit. With his heartbreaking story fresh in my mind, I suspected he was still reacting from what happened long ago.
"Maddy, what happened Friday night was no accident. John and I are worried about you. We both think it's best if you continue to stay with me. John's been hired as a consultant on a case in Charlottesville, so he's traveling a lot, and he has Emma to consider. I know you don't have anyone else to stay with. My building is more secure than most, and I can take you to work and bring you home. I understand it's hard for you, and I know you have your reasons, but I'm going to need you to trust me so I can help protect you until we figure out who was behind the arson and put them behind bars. That's going to involve talking to me about your past. I understand it may not be easy, but I don't know where else to start."
The last person I trusted almost destroyed me. I was torn between wanting to turn all this over to Holt and let him help me versus relying on the only person I knew I could trust - me. I also couldn't handle anyone else getting hurt because of me.
You can't grow an orchard by itself, girlie. Whatcha gonna do about it?
I stared at Holt, whose eyes implored me to understand and accept his offer. From everything I'd learned about Holt, he had a strong instinct to defend and protect the people he cared about, whether it was his country, his clients, or people he cared about which apparently now included me. His brother basically just confirmed that.
I wanted other people to accept and trust me. Mary had been able to do it. Holt was doing it. Maybe it was time I did the same and let someone in.
"I do trust you, Holt. But I need a promise in return."
"What's that?"
"I'll do my best to answer any questions you have, but I'm doing so in confidence. I'm not ready for everyone to know. I realize I need to open up, but I need to be the one to decide who knows what and how much. So please, don't keep any secrets from me, and if you think someone else needs to know, I need you to talk to me first."
He pushed off from the wall. "I can work with that," he agreed as he stopped in front of me. "And I meant what I said earlier. Well, yelled," he chuckled. "I do care about you, Maddy. You're not like anyone else I know. It's been a long time since I cared about what happened to anyone outside of my family, so I guess I'm not handling that well either." He brushed the backs of his fingers down my cheek and held it there, causing an involuntary shudder to ripple through me.
I looked up at him. "You mean since Claire?" I whispered.
He nodded.
"What about other women? You've had other girlfriends since her, right?"
"No."
"Not even as friends?"
"Not until you. I guess that's why I'm pretty rusty at it," he chuckled.
"That's okay," I giggled. "I haven't made it easy for you. But if it helps, you've grown on me, too."
He laughed. "Yeah, maybe like moss on a tree."
"That's okay. At least with moss I know which direction you're coming from." He kissed me on the forehead. "Come on. Let's go home so we can talk in private."
Home. Interesting that no matter how hard I tried to decorate my small apartment to feel more like a home, it always seemed to be missing something. Now that I was living with Holt, even temporarily, I realized it was the sense of belonging that helped to create a home; knowing that someone who cared was waiting for you. Maybe he thought he was only protecting me, but he was doing so much more.
