“Yes.” He bit the words between his teeth. It wasn’t talked about. Jase wouldn’t be happy she knew he’d been abused, any more than Cole wanted her to know. There was a sense of shame in being a victim, even if you were a child and couldn’t stop it.
“Jase has to feel his father’s presence here all the time, especially if you both leave everything the way it was. I feel the man’s presence. How could you not? If I was making the decisions, and I was going to keep the ranch, I’d change every single room. I’d redecorate, even use rooms for different things. I take it Christmas was never celebrated here?”
“God, no,” Cole said. “The old man hated Christmas.”
“Do you know why?”
Cole shrugged. “I’m guessing his old man hated it, but whatever his reasons, he used it to hurt everyone. He was at his most dangerous then. He seduced women, even brought them home in front of his wives. If anyone made the mistake of turning on the radio where he could hear a Christmas song played, and I’m talking the housekeeper or one of the ranch hands, he’d play it over and over and beat the hell out of Jase or his wife.”
Or Cole and his mother. Maia sat down in the wide, cushioned chair. She deliberately chose a single chair rather than the couch to keep a safe distance between them. Cole made her feel vulnerable. There was too much pain and suffering, and she was a healer. When she felt pain, she responded. She forced herself to remain calm, to breathe in and out when she wanted to scream with anger at the destructive monster who had caused so much suffering in his own children. “So in effect, that man is still dictating what goes on in this house.”
Cole passed his hand over his face, as if to wipe away the memories crowding in. “I fired everyone. The ranch hands, the housekeeper, anyone that was here and had to have known what was happening to him, but it didn’t help much. I keep Jase with me when we interview people, and I listen to his input. He has a say in whom we hire and whom we pass on. I want him to feel safe here.”
“How can he when that man is still in this house? Brett Steele is everywhere, in every room. And he’s still the boss. He forbade you to enjoy such a simple thing as a Christmas season, and you don’t. So he wins. Even from the grave, he wins.”
Cole swore savagely, making Maia wince. She stared out the window to the heavy snowflakes, waiting for him to regain control of his temper.
“I’m sorry, Steele. You asked, and I gave my opinion. I’m no professional, and I’m sure you must have sought counseling for Jase. I shouldn’t have said anything when I don’t have any experience.”
He waved a dismissing hand. “I wanted your opinion, or I wouldn’t have asked. I’ve considered what you’re saying myself. I guess I just wanted you to say there was another, easier way. I’ve taken Jase to counselors; he doesn’t trust anyone. He refuses to talk to them.”
“There has to be a really good professional who could help him.”
“Maybe, but I haven’t found the person. I can’t blame Jase. He tried to get help when his father was alive, and no one listened. In all fairness, they didn’t dare listen. Money talks, and the old man had a lot of power. He could destroy a business easily and did if his son befriended someone or talked out of turn. Jase’s trust is a fragile thing right now. I’m not going to force him to see anyone until he knows he can count on me.”
“And can he?” Maia asked quietly.
“If I never do another thing right in my life, I’ll do this. Yes, he can count on me. He’s coming first in my life. I’ve put my job on hold until he’s squared away.”
Maia’s gaze met his. “What job?”
Cole sprawled out in the chair across from her. “Does it matter?”
“Sure it does. Do you like what you do? Do you miss working?”
“I like the isolation of it. It’s comforting. I know the world and the rules, and nothing is ever a surprise.” Cole was astonished the words slipped out. Maybe he’d had more to drink than he’d realized. He pushed the bottle away with the tips of his fingers.
“I guess I feel the same way about my job,” Maia said.
Cole regarded her through half-closed eyes. She was always surprising him. There was something soothing and right about having her in his house. He could never imagine anyone else ever being there, but somehow Maia just fit. “Why do you travel so much? You should have a home.”
She flashed him her smile. The one that could knock a man off his feet even from a distance. He’d wanted that smile turned on him; yet alone in his house, with demons surrounding him and alcohol buzzing in his veins, it was all too dangerous. She was so beautiful, curled up in the chair, her bare feet tucked under her. And the question had to be asked, what was under those thin, flannel pajamas? He’d never considered flannel sexy before, but he was looking at it in an entirely new way.
“What? Stop looking at me as if you’re the big bad wolf.” She shook her head. “I guess you can’t help yourself, you’re always in hunting mode.”