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I jerked my head toward him at the confession, straightening as I allowed my anger to rise to the surface instead of the fear. “Daniel never should have put us in that situation.”
“You blame him.”
“Who else would I blame? He’s the one involved with those people. He let them into our home.” I gripped the edge of the seat, struggling to contain my temper.
“He didn’t exactly give them a key.”
“Didn’t he?” I challenged. “He chooses to associate with them. To keep secrets from his family. He left me unprepared. And that’s a direct contradiction to the man I thought I knew.”
“I’m not saying what he did was right, but I think if Daniel could do some things over again, last night wouldn’t have happened.”
“I never thanked you,” I said, gratitude momentarily overshadowing my anger. “You saved my life.”
“I wasn’t going to let them hurt you.”
I sucked in my cheeks as the memory of the bullet flying past my head as Stone tackled the shooter unfolded again in my mind. Fear intensified my anger to new heights. “It’s nothing short of a miracle you weren’t harmed.”
“I could say the same about you.” His voice was a quiet calm, though his unease punctured the words.
I stared out the windshield. “I don’t want to discuss this any further.”
“As much as I want to forget about it, ignoring what happened won’t make it go away.”
“It might.” The delusion easily rolled off my tongue. I knew he was right, though that didn’t mean I had to face it. I was weary from constant thoughts about the past and my fears, yet it was always there, even if I managed to keep it buried deeply. The previous night had dredged all of it back up, front and center.
“If you change your mind, you’ve got a willing ear.”
As if I would ever burden him with my real problems.
I folded my arms over my middle and changed the subject. “How did you get out of work today? Aren’t movie schedules rigid?”
He winked. “Don’t start until Monday week. I’m just doing some preliminary stuff now.”
“Why do you do it? You hate being famous.”
He exited off the parkway. “Hate is a strong word, but you’re right. I don’t particularly care for that aspect of my work.”
“You hate being away from your family.”
A long, callused index finger pointed at me. “You’re on the money there too.” His expression turned serious as his throat bobbed when he swallowed. “Are you any good at keeping secrets?”
“Better than I’d like to be,” I said, and immediately regretted it.
His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “I had to do it.”
I stared at him, incredulous. “Had to? That doesn’t make sense. You don’t do things you don’t want to. Not unless—was your family in trouble?”
“The ranch was. It’s why my granddaddy agreed to let them shoot a movie there to begin with.”
I’d seen pictures of his home in Texas. It was hard to imagine anything ever being wrong there.
“I know you took over for the lead when he quit. I always thought you wanted to do it.”
“I wasn’t really being dishonest; there are things I like about it. But to say I wanted to do it would be a stretch. Granddaddy trusted me to keep the truth between the two of us. He didn’t want to worry the rest of the family.”
“They don’t know?”
He shook his head. “If that production company hadn’t come around when they did, we might have lost everything. The drought that year was the worst in a hundred years. Our neighbors were selling off their property in chunks just to survive.”
