“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.

The room quieted. The fire crackled softly, the chair squeaked on every rock. Above their heads the floorboards of the old house expanded and contracted. The snow slid off one section of the roof from the heat of the fire. Daniel leaned his head back and tried to sort out all the emotions racing through him.

Beth’s husband had abused her. Emotionally abused the kids too from what Nathan had let slip. They seemed to be dealing with it well, and his admiration for Beth increased astronomically.

She was strong, desirable, and damn if he was going to let her hide away from him anymore.

The time of waiting became like a time of prayer. He mentally listed all the things he was grateful for, all the things he wanted. And the longer he sat, with a child in his arms, waiting for his woman to return, the more he realized everything he still wanted was nearly within his grasp.

If Beth was ready to trust him with her heart.

The deck boards outside the door creaked a moment before Beth stepped inside. She came into the living room, sparkling snow crystals in her hair and her cheeks rosy from the cold. Daniel could have stared at her all night long.

“Hey, what’s up?” she whispered as she knelt beside the chair, one hand resting on his arm, the other reaching to brush the hair from Nathan’s face.

“He’s okay. I just didn’t want to take him upstairs in case we woke up Robbie and you weren’t home yet. He had a bad dream.”

“He has them occasionally.” She stared at her son for a moment, and written on her face was such sadness and loss he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Beth, we need to talk.”

She nodded slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve. “Let’s tuck him in.”

They went upstairs together, and Daniel stepped back after carefully placing the now boneless Nathan on his bed. Standing in the doorway, he watched Beth tenderly pulled up the covers and kiss both Nathan and Robbie. Then she slipped past him to check on Lance, closing his curtains and turning off his MP3.

When she would have walked down the stairs, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward her bedroom. “You must be tired. Come on, I’ll give you that massage I promised.”

Her breathing picked up as her gaze flickered to the closed doors of the boys.

Daniel lifted her chin in his hand. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want to, okay? I promise. If you want me to crawl out the window so you don’t get caught with me in your room, I’ll do it. I even know which trees I have to climb down to get away safely.”

That was enough to bring a smile back to her face, and she laughed softly and pulled him after her, turning the lock. “I’ve been teaching the boys they are supposed to knock before entering, but they weren’t learning very fast. So they’re used to me locking the door now.”

She pulled off her sweater and stretched her arms in the air. “I never want to go on another field trip in my life.”

“Not into dinosaurs?” Daniel sat on the chair in the corner of the room and watched, mesmerized, as Beth sat on the bed and stripped off her socks and wiggled out of her slacks.

They needed to get to the real issue, but she was tying his brain in knots.

He joined her on the bed, crawling behind her to massage her shoulders, her neck. Pressing his thumbs into the tight muscles until she began to relax under this touch.

“We’re not doing a lot of talking, are we?”

Daniel laughed. “Not really sure where to begin.”

Beth placed a hand on his where it rested on her shoulder. Then she glanced up at him. “Did Nathan tell you what his bad dream was about?”

He moved in front of her, kneeling at her feet. “He did. Kinda, like a seven-year-old tells any story.”

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight to him, just needing to squeeze out some of the hurt and agony he saw in her eyes. Beth sniffed a couple of times and then swore.

“I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“Cry for the no-good bastard. Cry because of him. I want to move on and forget what he did to me and the boys, and yet he’s still there, haunting us.”

She tucked her tear-streaked face into the crook of his neck, and his heart broke. “You go ahead and cry. You love your sons, and until you know they are on the road to understanding what the real love of family means, you’re going to have moments you cry. Hell, my mama still cries over the stupid things her sons do to each other, and she cries when we get our feelings hurt, and we’re all grown up. You’re a good mama to your boys, Beth, and tears come with the territory.”

She leaned back and cupped his face in her hand. “Daniel, you are one in a million. That’s sweet of you, but there are things you don’t know. Like if I really loved my boys I should have left the man years ago, before he had a chance to make our life hell. I should have left the first time he hit me, but I was like every one of the women who think they’ll be the exception. That he really was sorry for what he’d done. That he really never would do it again. That the boys were better off with a father who was decent most of the time.”

Daniel held in his anger. “You shouldn’t have had to make the decision. None of it was your fault, Beth.”

“Nathan cries because his dad is gone, and you know what, that is my fault. I’m the one who killed him.”

He choked back his surprise. “You said he died in the car crash.”

“He did.”

Daniel waited, stroking her hair gently, giving her the space to tell it her own way.

She wiggled back on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself, voice low, head dipped. “He’d found out something I’d done that he didn’t like. I can’t even remember what it was, and he was cursing a blue streak at me. The roads were icy that night—I didn’t want to drive in the first place, but he insisted—and when I felt myself losing control of the vehicle I…” she paused, “…I yanked the wheel to the side and we spun into traffic with the passenger side leading. I made sure he was the one in the direct line of anything that hit us.”

Hell, had she really taken on that burden? “Beth, if you were already skidding, there’s no way anything you did changed which direction the car turned.”

Her head snapped up, a flicker of something in her eyes that could have been hope, but it vanished too quickly for him to be sure.

“Still, it was a conscious choice. I’d do it again in an instant.” She was breathing so fast he thought she might faint. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I need to explain—”

He hurried to reassure her. “You don’t have to explain anything more to me. Not right now. I want to know, but only when you’re ready to talk about it. Not because you think I’m expecting you to.” He held her hands clasped in his, aching to help her, wanting to comfort her. Her fingers were icy cold, and he warmed them gently in his palms. “I still think you can forgive yourself for his death. I’m sure there was an investigation, and if you had done anything wrong, they would have discovered it then. It was an accident—that’s all it was.”

“I was happy he was dead, though. He was a bastard. Stole away years of my life. Made the boys quake in fear. Made me have sex when he knew it was dangerous. Demanded I keep going until…”

She stopped. Completely. His heart was breaking for her, for every bit of pain she’d suffered.

“Until what? Oh God, Beth.”

She whipped her head around, hair flying. Her eyes were dark, not with the heat of passion he was used to seeing but with pure unadulterated rage.

“My baby girl died because of him.”

Daniel swore under his breath.

“He knew it was dangerous for me to get pregnant again, but by then that was my only purpose in life, as far as he was concerned. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.” She dashed angry tears from her eyes. “I had completed all my training, finished my student teaching, and all the while he was trying to get me pregnant. I expected to stop work when I had babies, I did, but I never thought I’d have three children in less than three years. Then when I did get pregnant again so soon, the doctor said I needed bed rest. Samuel knew, but he didn’t care, just cared about me having food on the table and warming his bed. And I lost her. My little girl.”

The tears poured out, and Daniel gathered her in his arms, pressed her forehead to his chest and simply held her.

She dragged in air between the words. “I told you I couldn’t have any more children. When they went to do the D and C, too much of my womb was damaged and they took it out.” Another sob shook her. “I know it seems so silly to be upset about it in light of the fact he used to hit me, but…”

He stopped dead in his tracks. He tried to put as much tenderness as possible into the kiss he pressed to her temple.

“It’s the farthest thing from silly. I bet you’ve got people who tell you that you should count your blessings, right? That you’ve got three fine boys, and what more could you want.” He laughed, knowing that it sounded hollow. He buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her gaze up to meet his own. “It doesn’t take away the hurt. You love them nonetheless, but the ones that you can’t have, because the decision wasn’t yours—