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Tess's heart twisted. He was up, alone and probably lonely in the middle of the night, making something for the children he loved so deeply. Children he never spoke
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to and rarely looked at, but spent his every waking moment trying to protect.
What happened to you, Jack Rafferty? The question burned on the tip of her tongue, spiraled through her mind. What had happened to make him so desperately afraid of showing his love?
She tried to remain motionless and silent, tried to respect his privacy, but she couldn't. Before she knew it, she was moving toward him, her hand outstretched, her heart in her eyes. "Jack?"
His head snapped up. "Amarylis? What are you?" "Lissa," she answered softly. "And I couldn't sleep." She walked to the couch and sat lightly on its ragged edge. "What are you making?"
"Please," he said in a broken, tired voice. "Leave me out of it."
"Out of what?"
"Whatever new game you're playing. Just leave me and the kids out of it."
"What's wrong with games?" Her voice was so quiet, he had to lean forward to hear it. "Maybe you could use a little fun in your life."
Despair filled his eyes. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and looked away. "I'm doing the best I can," he said quietly. "Don't push me."
The aching words tore at Tess's heart. The silent pain in his eyes wrapped around her throat and squeezed hard.
She took a single step toward him, then stopped. She had to move slowly with Jack, take the relationship step by step. Tonight was the beginning, the starting place, and it was important that she do it right. If only she could figure out what "right" was with Jack ...
Suddenly he lurched to his feet. The rocking horse hit the hardwood floor with a clatter as he strode toward the kitchen.
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"Jack." His name slipped from her lips before she had anything to say.
He didn't even pause. He tore through the kitchen and left the house. The door banged shut behind him.
Tess stared after him for a long time. Then she went over and picked up the half-finished rocking horse. Running her fingers along the scratchy wooden surface, she felt the sting of tears come to her eyes.
He was running from something; she was sure of it. Something dark and dangerous that scared him to death.
And he was alone in his fight. Desperately, achingly alone.
Somehow she had to ease that burden from his shoulders, had to let him realize that she wouldn't hurt him. If she could bring him into the family, make him lighten his heavy load, they could begin the healing?and melding? process together.
Somehow she had to figure out a way to get past Jack's angry facade and touch the man behind the mask.
It came to her the next morning as she was cleaning out the pantry. The Plan.
Phase One was deceptively simple. Force Jack to react.
She knew now that he was working hard, very hard, to remain distant and aloof from his wife and children. The scene by the crib proved how much he loved them, and how terrified he was to show his love.
She had no idea why he acted so angry all the time, but Tess was fairly certain it was a carefully constructed facade. A way to keep his children from loving him.
All she had to do was slowly, layer by layer, peel away his angry defenses. She had to force him to interact with his family. If she could just bring him into the circle of his family, maybe he would relax a little. Maybe he'd even try to be a dad.
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Tess knew how he felt, knew the pain of being an outsider in your own family. She knew, too, how the girls felt every time he turned his back on them or failed to meet their gazes. Each rejection, no matter how small, was like a tiny slice of the surgeon's knife. As an orphan, a reluctant stranger in someone else's family, Tess had learned a lot about what children needed, and even mor
e about how it felt to get less or nothing at all. Kids needed love and laughter and a place they felt safe. The Rafferty girls had none of those things.
