Название | Reunited With The Bull Rider |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Jill Kemerer |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Wyoming Cowboys |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474084291 |
She needed the full story of Ruby’s past.
Her mind had been so preoccupied, she hadn’t had time to truly process his gorgeous house or the fact it was exactly the type of home she used to dream about, back when she still had hopes of getting married and having kids of her own. She’d thought she’d be raising a family in a place like this with property not too far from town. She’d thought wrong.
“Are you sure she won’t wake up?” She didn’t want Ruby to stumble in on them discussing her.
“I don’t think she will. She woke up briefly when I pulled the bedspread over her, but I stayed until she fell asleep again.”
One look at his face and all the questions she’d rehearsed earlier vanished. His eyes always changed to gray when he turned melancholy. Seeing the slate shade brought a ping of sadness to her heart. She’d always done her best to soothe his blue moods. But that was then and a lot of life had happened since he’d left. He would have to deal with his moods himself.
“I take it she fell apart when I left her at your apartment earlier.”
“I wouldn’t say she fell apart.” Sitting on a stool, she folded her hands on the counter. “It was actually worse than falling apart. I don’t know how to describe it except she almost seemed catatonic. It scared me. I didn’t know what to do. She was terrified. Couldn’t stop staring at the door after you left. Her face turned white. She trembled. When I suggested meeting you at the coffee shop, she finally snapped out of it.”
He frowned. “What did she do then?”
“Tears started falling, but she listened to me and held my hand all the way to The Beanery.”
He drummed his fingers on the counter. “Makes sense in a way.”
“It doesn’t to me, and that’s why I’m here.” She raised her chin. “I need to know more about her childhood.”
Fear flashed in his eyes.
“I need to know it all.” Amy wasn’t backing down on this. Either she had all the facts to come up with a realistic way forward to spend time with Ruby, or she had to walk away.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“This needs to stay confidential. I want her to have no baggage in this town. I don’t care who knows I’m really her brother raising her as my daughter, but no one needs to know the horror this kid’s been through.”
“Agreed. You have my word I will not tell anyone the details you share.”
“I’ve told you about our mother.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning forward. “She went through cycles of heavy drug use and court-mandated rehab. When she was using, she’d do anything—and I mean anything—to get money for her fix. Prostitution. Theft. You name it. She had no sense of time, no sense of reality. Since Ruby had no father or siblings living with her, the poor kid had to rely on herself when our mother was higher than a kite. Inevitably, our mother would get picked up by the cops and thrown in jail for whatever she was guilty of, and while she served time, Ruby would be placed in foster care. But our mother would get out and she’d be clean, so she’d get custody again until the cycle repeated.”
“How often did this happen?” Amy’s mind was spinning from the scenario. She pictured Ruby small, hungry, scared. She also pictured an unstable drug addict not taking care of the girl.
“Too often.”
What did that mean? Every two months? Once a year? She sighed. It didn’t really matter. “So walk me through the things she had to endure.”
“Being left alone in a filthy apartment with limited food. Could have been a couple hours. Sometimes, I’m sure it was days.”
“Days? But she was practically a baby!” Amy brought her hand to her chest. Horrible. “She needed a babysitter. No young child should be left alone in a house for any length of time.”
“Trust me. I know.” He exhaled loudly. “Then there was the fact our mother used around her. Ruby grew up around drug paraphernalia. I guarantee Ruby witnessed her shooting up. I’m sure there was emotional abuse, as well.”
Tears threatened at the thought of sweet Ruby going through all that.
“And this went on her entire life?” Amy sniffed.
“Yes. Up until mid-December at least.”
“If her case workers knew all this, why did they ever let her return to her mother?” The injustice of it made her want to wring someone’s neck.
“They want to keep families together, and they didn’t know all of it.”
If they hadn’t known all of it, and he hadn’t seen his mother in a decade... “How do you know this is what happened?”
He bowed his head briefly before meeting her eyes. “From experience.”
It took a few seconds to register, but when it did... She shook her head slightly, her gaze still locked with his. “I see.”
And she did. These new facts sliced open her heart. She’d thought she’d known Nash when they’d dated. She’d always sensed the pain under his easy smile. Understood there were things so awful from his past he might not ever be able to share them. But she hadn’t known this.
“You could have told me,” she said softly. “You know, back then.”
He looked away.
Apparently, he disagreed. She straightened, forcing herself to get her head back to the here and now, not stuck in the way back when.
“Now that I know more about her past, I think she’s terrified of you leaving her.” The more Amy thought about it, the more obvious it became. “She is much more comfortable with me when you’re in the room. But the instant you left today—well, I think she has no idea if she’ll be left by herself, dragged to another home or if she’ll ever see you again. How long have you had custody?”
“A little over a week. But I’ve spent time with her almost every day since December.”
Amy sagged on the stool. She hadn’t realized... No wonder Ruby was so scared. Amy never should have pushed for her own agenda, having Ruby come to her apartment without Nash.
“Well, spending time alone isn’t going to work until it sinks in you will always come back for her.”
“You’re right.” He stretched his head back. “Listen, there are a few other things you should know.”
She braced herself.
“Since she never knew when she’d have food, she hoards it. I find all kinds of snacks in her bedroom. Sometimes under her pillow or stuck in a shoe. And if she wakes up and I’m not around, she screams. Loud. I bought walkie-talkies so I can go outside if she naps, which she doesn’t do very often.”
“That breaks my heart.”
“Mine, too.” He tapped the table, raw honesty pouring from his expression. Then he pointed to the living room. “I bought her all those toys, but she won’t play with them. Barely looks at them.”
“I noticed the same earlier.”
“The therapist told me this is common in severely neglected kids.”
“Will she overcome any of this?” Amy held her breath. Please let him say yes.
“Most likely. If she feels secure. That’s why I moved