“And I’m going with you.”
She waved him off, stomping for the truck. “You have work to do. A ranch to take care of. You can’t run away.” It was mean of her, but she wanted her words to hit hard enough he’d stop. Anything to make him stop, stop pushing, stop being there, stop…all of it.
He didn’t.
“I’m coming with you.”
“I don’t want you.”
“Not what you said last night, sweetheart.” She supposed it was an attempt at a joke, but it was too steely. It was too right.
She wanted him, or she wouldn’t be here against every rational thought in her brain. Since when was her heart stronger than her brain? When did she let that weakness grow?
Dan plucked her keys from her hand and hopped into the driver’s seat of her truck. “You trust me to drive it, remember?” He jammed the key into the ignition, her still standing there staring at him, trying to…
Trying to…
She had no idea.
He took a deep breath, eyes on the dusty windshield. “You can trust me, period, Mel. You don’t have to be afraid to need me. I am not going to hurt you. I am not going to let you down. I am going to make this work, and I am here for you. You’re shaking, honey.”
He said it so emphatically, so sure, her eyes pricked with tears. She had to rub her unfortunately shaking hands over her face, try to find some source of calm, of strength.
“Stop treating me like…” She didn’t know how to finish it, and her voice broke anyway. She just knew he had to stop. He had to stop breaking her apart like this.
“Like what?” It was all gentle and sweet, and she wanted to punch something—him preferably. “Why do you think me offering to help is me hurting you? Whatever’s going on with your family is your problem to handle, but that doesn’t mean you can’t lean on me. It doesn’t mean I can’t drive you, can’t listen.”
“I don’t deserve any fucking help!” Oh, Jesus, she could not do this. Not now. Pour out all that gross, messed-up stuff inside of her. She had a problem to fix. A more important one than that.
“Why wouldn’t you deserve it, honey? Look around you. Everything I’ve built here is because of you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because it’s bullshit, that’s why!” She did not have time for this. She had to get home. To Caleb and Dad and…a sister. They needed her, and she didn’t have a choice.
She’d been telling herself she didn’t have a choice since she could remember. For the first time in her life, it felt like a lie. She had every choice in the world. She’d left. She could never go back if she wanted to.
Not having a choice was one of those lies she’d told herself so often she’d believed it to be true, like Shaw being her.
“Get in the truck. One thing at a time, huh?”
Again with the treating her like she was fragile crap. Did she look fragile? Did she act fragile? She was a motherfucking brick capable of breaking anything.
“If it’s them you want to be strong for, I get it. I do. But you don’t have to be strong for me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Stop saying shit like that.”
“No.”
She could only stare at him. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
He shrugged. “I’m going to keep saying shit like that till you believe it.” He hopped out of the truck, and before she could punch him in the mouth, his mouth brushed hers. His hands grasped her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what you do or don’t do. Everyone will find a way to pick up the pieces. You are not the anchor holding this all together. You’re an equal piece like everyone else.”
It made no sense, not one ounce of it, but the kiss, the words, bolstered all her flagging strength. They slipped along the edges of all her cracks and helped seal them up.
“Now get in the truck. Tell me what happened. We’ll go from there.”
She stared at him for a few humming seconds, trying to figure out what had changed in those pretty green depths. When had everything flipped so he was the one who had it all together and she was the mess?
But she didn’t have time to figure that out, because whether Dan thought she was the anchor or not, that’s exactly what she had to make herself into.
She had to go re-anchor them all. Maybe if she did that, she’d be able to find the old Mel who could handle this. Who knew what to do. Who wasn’t bolstered or strengthened by a man’s words or kisses.
Who wasn’t precariously close to love and all the ruin that came with it.
*
He had no idea what he was doing, but Dan was pretty sure Mel didn’t either.
She was even holding on to his hand like it offered some kind of comfort. A comfort she would actually accept.