Her sexy voice lowered a notch. “Welcome to my world. Oh, and I’m totally accepting your offer, I need the massage so bad. My feet are killing me. I swear they made us walk every inch of the Tyrrell Museum. I’d sit through a million meetings before going on another ‘teachers’ field trip’.”
“Your leg sore?”
“Amazingly, not too bad. I think all the walks we’ve been taking have strengthened it.” Static cut in on the line and she spoke quickly. “I’ll see you at home as soon as I can.”
Home. Home with him where she belonged.
He rattled around the house for a bit, now too keyed up to stare into the fire and relax. The past couple of days they’d tried a few times to get together to talk, but it was like the kids had radar and woke up right when the discussion got deeper than sharing growing-up stories. There were certain things neither of them wanted to discuss in a public coffee shop or over the phone. Daniel sighed.
Tonight he intended to ask if Jaxi’s offer of babysitting was a possibility. See if Beth was willing to go on a retreat, just the two of them, for a couple of nights. Not only to get to make love without pulling strings, but to talk—really talk.
A creak on the stairs sounded with a low whimper hard on its heels. A little head poked around the corner, Nathan’s big eyes staring at him.
“Nathan? What’s up, bud?”
“I’m thirsty.”
Oh Lord. Daniel got him a glass of water and led the kid into the living room to sit in front of the fire. Of course, this probably meant he’d be up right around the time Beth got home, having to pee.
Kids.
Daniel sat back in the recliner. Moving slow and staying silent. Whenever he’d tried to stay up past his bedtime that was what his daddy had done. Made it seem peaceful and quiet. To a seven-year-old, boring.
Nathan perched on his heels and sipped slowly, his gaze darting around the room and returning again and again to Daniel. There was almost nothing left in the glass and still he milked it. Daniel scratched his face to hide his grin.
“You ready for me to tuck you in again?”
Nathan put the glass down on the coffee table and turned those big eyes on Daniel. “I’m scared to go to bed.”
Daniel frowned. Now what was going on? “Something wrong with your room? Did you know that’s the room my brother Blake used to sleep in? It’s a nice big space, and you’ve got Robbie in there to keep you company.”
“Not that.” The tyke surprised him to pieces by crawling into his lap and tugging on his shirt. “Bad dreams.”
Ahh. “Like there’s something…” Maybe giving the kid ideas wasn’t the best way to go about this. “What kind of dreams?”
“Of my daddy.”
Fuck. For all the time they’d spent together, it had shocked him how seldom the kids ever mentioned their father. Hell, at their age his daddy had been the center of his universe, and every waking minute he’d been home from school he’d tagged along, trying to keep up. Looking back he probably got in the way more than he helped, but Mike had never said a word.
“You miss him?”
Nathan stiffened in his lap. He swung his head up and glared at Daniel. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“You ever hit someone? Like punch them and hurt them?”
Daniel chuckled. “I’ve got five brothers. You tell me, you ever scuffle with Robbie or Lance?”
Nathan’s face folded into a frown. “Well, that’s different. They deserve it.”
“I expect they do, sometimes. I know my brothers certainly do.”
“You ever hit a girl?”
“Hell no. I don’t have any sisters, but I still can’t imagine hitting one.” The memory of Sierra planting the kiss on him in the bar crossed his mind. “They can be very annoying creatures at times, girls, but I’d never hit one.”
“What if a girl asks for it?”
Daniel frowned. What the hell kinda question was that from a seven-year-old? “You mean like teasing you? You still need to treat them nice, even if they call you names. Even if they poke you.” He leaned over and lowered his voice. “I know at times it just don’t seem fair, but if you can learn it now, it’ll make things a whole lot better when you get older.”
“Daddy said Mommy asked for it.”
His breath was sucked from his lungs as Nathan’s thin voice carried through the night air. Daniel held in the swear words wanting to escape. He’d wondered if her husband had abused her. He’s suspected that was part of the secret Beth had kept, and yet the absolute fury that rose in his belly was shocking.
Holy shit, now what could he say? “All I can tell you is what I’ve been taught. There ain’t nothing a girl can do that makes it right for you to hit her. That doesn’t mean you have to stand there and take it, your mama has strong opinions on letting anyone push you around, but hitting them back? No sir. That’s not what a gentleman does.”
Nathan snuggled in tighter to Daniel’s side and something twisted in his belly. The earthy scent of boy, familiar and yet strange, rose to his nose. He tentatively put an arm around the little tyke and gave him a squeeze.
“I didn’t like it when he hit Mommy.”
Another shot of pain streaked through Daniel. “Of course you didn’t.”
“I wanted to hit him.” Nathan’s voice was so soft and low, Daniel barely heard the words. Red-hot anger at the man he didn’t even know blazed out. If the bastard hadn’t already been dead, Daniel would have happily tracked him down and shot him.
Daniel rocked the boy, considering his words carefully. “Nathan, I ain’t going to tell you that you’re wrong. In wanting to defend your mama, you were completely right. Now I didn’t know your daddy, and I don’t know all that happened along the way, but I can tell you this. Taking care of our mamas and sisters, and women in general, is supposed to be important to every man.”
He lifted Nathan’s face to look directly into his tear-filled eyes. “That what you having bad dreams about? Your daddy hitting your mama?” Nathan’s chin quivered. “Shit.”
Nathan’s eyes grew wide. “You swore. Mama says we’re not supposed to swear.”
Daniel put his finger over his lips for a second. “You’re right, and I try not to, but there’s just some times it sneaks out. Like when I’m really mad.”
The kid snorted. “You’re not mad.”
“Oh yes, I am. Not at you, but for you.”
Nathan frowned. “But you’re not yelling or throwing things. You can’t be mad.”
Oh my Lord, give me the words. Daniel pressed his hand to Nathan’s head and drew him up against his chest.
“Trust me, I’m real mad.” How the hell was he supposed to explain to the kid that what he’d experienced should never have happened? “There’re a few kinds of anger in the world. There’s the throwing things kind of mad—that doesn’t really get much done except hurt the things you throw and the people you throw them at, does it?”
“Hurts them lots.” Nathan’s voice shook.
Sweet Jesus. The whole conversation made his mind and heart ache. What kind of bastard could do this to his own children? To his wife? “Then there’s the kind of mad that makes people want to make things better. That’s the kind of mad I am. I’m upset for you and your brothers. I’m angry for your mama’s sake, but yelling and throwing things would only make it worse.”
Nathan nodded rapidly.
There was no way he could continue this conversation tonight. “You just relax right here. I’ll keep the bad dreams away. Deal?”
Nathan sniffed and wiped at his nose, then cocooned in like one of the kittens under their mom out in the barn. It took a couple of minutes for his breathing to relax from the rasping little gasps it had become as he’d fought back tears.