A Defender's Heart. Tara Taylor Quinn

some wine, watching her.

      “Yes.” Sort of.

      “I want to hear about it, of course, about whatever business he had that still interests you, but I have a more pertinent question first.”

      A feeling of dread ran through her. “What?”

      “How could you possibly be afraid of my reaction? Have I ever...ever...given you cause to fear me? Or reacted in such a way that made you feel unsafe coming to me?” He seemed honestly perplexed.

      “No, you haven’t,” she told him, feeling stronger in her purpose by the second. This was why Raine had been so concerned. She knew Heather wasn’t acting in a healthy manner. Or reacting in one.

      “It’s me, Charles. I’m not emotionally healthy enough right now for a committed relationship. I overreacted totally. My fear of telling you about Cedar was irrational. And I was over-the-top with him, too. I was far ruder to him than I should’ve been, considering that I not only opened the door that he’d kept shut between us—out of respect—by inviting him to our party. And then by agreeing to meet with him.”

      “Maybe you need to consider why you did either of those things.”

      “I know why I did them.” She didn’t waver, although she was getting frustrated with having to continue trying to get anyone to understand her on this. “I did them because I know I’m over him. Because I also know that if he’s still in town, we’re bound to run into each other. Our fields tend to cross. It’s kind of surprising that they haven’t already over the past year.”

      “Maybe he purposely stayed out of your way.”

      “Maybe.” But the past year didn’t matter right now. “The point is, I was certain I’d be able to see him and that our encounter would be...empty...at best. I was hoping for a distant friendliness between acquaintances.”

      Or some such thing. She and Cedar had a ton of shared memories. He was bound to creep into her mind now and then through the years. She’d like to know he was okay.

      As long as it was from a distance.

      “You said you were hoping as though that’s not what happened.”

      There he was again, implying she had feelings for Cedar. Anger shot up within her, and just as quickly died.

      “Seeing him brought up all kinds of self-doubt,” she told him. “Before Cedar’s betrayal, I didn’t question my own mind. I trusted my thoughts and feelings—and then, when I’d realized how easily he’d duped me, I didn’t trust my own mind. I started to question what I really knew and what I only thought I saw. My mind was playing tricks on me. I doubted my ability to see things as they really were. Feared that I couldn’t discern. It was horrible at first. I went through counseling, as you know, and haven’t had a problem for months. Now, though, it’s back. Maybe worse than ever because there’s no grief to overtake everything else like there was then...”

      “You had an important client this afternoon.”

      “Yes.” She’d told him what she could the day before—that a child’s life was involved. Nothing else.

      “Did you struggle to do your job?”

      “No. It’s not affecting my work. Strangely enough, it never really did. Probably because I’m tuned outward when I’m working, and my struggle is inward. I’m acting weird around Raine and Lianna, though, being defensive around them. And you... I need some time, Charles.”

      “I’d like to ask how much time, but clearly you wouldn’t have any way of knowing that.”

      He was going to dump her. She could feel it coming.

      And part of her was relieved. She wouldn’t have to worry about hurting him any more than she already had.

      But another part of her, the part that had been happy to have her future mapped out and rosy, the part that thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with him...

      “I understand your time concerns,” she told him. That had been the only true source of discord between them. The one time she’d stood up to him. She wouldn’t marry him until they’d been engaged at least a year. “I really do understand them. They’re real and important.”

      He seemed to be watching something on the horizon—as though he wasn’t just staring off into the ocean, but was focused. She didn’t turn around to see what might be out there. She was too concerned about him.

      Looking for a way to make things better for him.

      Charles turned back to her, his gaze so serious, her stomach felt like lead.

      “They aren’t as important as you are.” His words were soft. And yet solid. Blessedly solid. Tears sprang to her eyes. She wanted to run to him. To hold him. To thank him.

      But...she wanted to stand her ground, too. “I have to break our engagement.”

      He didn’t speak.

      “I need time to get myself back before I can promise myself to anyone else.”

      “Do you intend to date other people?”

      Cedar, he meant.

      “Absolutely not.” But then...they were back where they’d started—her being pledged to him, without the formality, without the ring. “But...until I sort this out, I need to be free to feel, to not feel guilty for feeling, whatever I feel. I need to be able to know what’s real for me without feeling obligated to consider how what I feel affects someone else. I need to be single, Charles. I can’t be in a committed relationship right now.”

      “But you can date...say, me?”

      “Of course!” She wanted that. “As long as you understand that I’m promising nothing for now, that it’s only a date. And...” She hated this part, but knew it had to work both ways. “If you meet someone you want to, say, have dinner with, then you’re free to do so. And not tell me about it unless you want to.”

      It couldn’t possibly work. A couple couldn’t go from being engaged to completely single, and then get married. Could they?

      “When you determine you’re ready to commit, do you see yourself being happy with me for the rest of your life?”

      She couldn’t lead him on. It wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t lie to him, either. “At this point, I do.”

      He nodded and held out an arm to her, and she couldn’t resist. She needed to feel his warmth as much as he seemed to need hers. Snuggled beneath his arm, she sipped her wine, her stomach cramped with tension.

      “I hate not being able to trust my own mind,” she said. “I hate doing this to you.”

      “I’d rather it happened now than after we’re married.”

      As though they were still getting married. And maybe they were. A dangled carrot, but one she was glad to see hanging out there.

      “I’m so paranoid all of a sudden.”

      “It’s only been a couple of days.”

      He was right, of course. Her melodrama was proof. Sitting up, she put her glass of wine on the table. Saw the ring on her finger, and her stomach took another nosedive. She reached to pull it off, but Charles’s hand on hers stopped her.

      “Might I suggest you keep that on? At least for a little while?”

      She shook her head. There was no way... He didn’t get it... She couldn’t be engaged...

      “For a couple of reasons,” he said, when she met his eyes.

      She listened.

      “First, selfishly, I’d like a little more time to pass between our engagement party and any kind of official breakup,” he said. “Just to spare me discomfort with my friends. Since,