Page 94 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“There’ll always be memories—the good being stronger than the bad.”

“Does Mira remember her mother?” She hated to ask, but perversely she needed to know.

He shifted, breaking her gaze and looking toward the wall. “Would she recognize Sissy if she saw her? Of course. Does she ever ask for her mother? No. She’s not missing Sissy.”

“That’s so sad, Rusty.” Her heart ached, not only for the little girl, but also for the mother who’d lost that love.

“That’s my reality. That’s why I’m fighting so hard to keep Mira safe and away from my ex-wife.” His words were strong and sure.

“I’m starting to understand.” And she was. “That drive to protect. I feel like I’d die before I let anything bad happen to you guys.”

“That’s what family is.” He shifted to face her again. “We take care of each other.”

Involuntarily, she yawned.

“Time for bed, I think.”

That familiar ache which accompanied the wordbedevery time he said it hit her, harder tonight than normal. Her heart ached as he made his way to the bathroom to get into his pajamas. She lay on her side. Her eyes were closed when he left the bathroom. The bed dipped and he turned off the lights. If only he’d take her into his arms. Not in a romantic way, necessarily, but in a comforting sort of way.

Soon, his breathing lengthened and deepened.

She gave in herself.

And then there was nothing.

The morning was the normal chaos, and Calleigh seemed pleased to see her. She kept everything in check, but at lunchtime, she escaped to the privacy of her office and made the call.

“Helping Horses Ranch. Kennedy Dixon speaking.”

“Kennedy, it’s Remy Stevens.” There was a pause and the sound of a door closing.

“Is it Calleigh?”

“No, Kennedy, it’s me.”

“Can you be here at five?”

Thank God.She hadn’t been sure she’d be able to wait any longer without losing her nerve. “Five o’clock is perfect.”

And by the time she sat in Kennedy’s office, she was a toy top, wound so tight that when released she going to spin out of control. She declined coffee but held a cold bottle of water as if it were a lifeline.

The psychologist’s smile was serene and kind, her expression and countenance open. “Why did you call me today?”

Remy worried her lower lip through her teeth. “I told Rusty about the rape.” She paused, holding up her hand. “I guess I should take a step back.” She looked at Kennedy with a pleading expression. “I was raped when I was at the university.”

Kennedy’s expression didn’t change.She knows. Of course she knows.She gave herself a mental slap upside the head. She’d told Kennedy about panicking every time her husband touched her. A safe assumption there was an underlying psychological trauma causing the panic.

“How did he take it?”

How to put this in words? “Empathetic. Understanding. He was everything you’d want someone to be.”

“What’s the real issue?”

“It changed our relationship.”

“In what way?”.

As hard as she’d imagined this would be, the reality was much worse. “We’d been feeling our way through things. He used to hug me, touch me. Gentle affection that was always welcomed. He was making me comfortable with the intimacy.”

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