Page 62 of Falling for the Cowgirl
He shrugged. “Might be.”
No doubt about it—she’d hit on the very thing he’d come back for.
“I can’t say anything more about what I’m doing, Ivy. So please don’t ask.”
She nodded. “You’re aimin’ to leave once you get what you came for?”
“That’s right.”
“And what if I don’t want you to leave?”
“I have to.”
“Then you can come back when you’re done.”
“I’ll never be done.” His words carried the weight of the world, telling her exactly how seriously he took his work.
“Fine. I’ll go with you.”
“No. Never.” His answer slammed into her harder than a gunshot.
She closed her eyes at the sudden sting of tears and started to slip away, but he spun and grabbed her upper arms.
“I’ll never put a woman in danger the way my dad did to my mom.” His handsome features were haunted.
Though Jericho had talked about his frustration with his past, he’d never shared exactly what had happened. All she knew was that his mom had died, his dad was a lousy drunk, and Nash had looked out for him. Jericho let them all believe he was from Missouri when he was really from Chicago. What other secrets was he harboring?
He stared at her intently, almost as if he wasn’t there but was reliving the trauma from his childhood.
She lifted a hand to his cheek and tried to smooth away the shadows. “What happened to your mom?”
Her touch seemed to pacify him just a little, enough that he loosened his grip. He stared at the fire again, lost someplace in the past.
“Never mind. You don’t have to tell me—”
“A crime boss my dad was hunting trailed after her one Sunday night when she was walking home from church. He kidnapped her. Told my dad he had her but wouldn’t release her without a hefty ransom. When Dad couldn’t come up with the money fast enough, the guy and his gang tortured and murdered her.”
Ivy’s insides curdled. She could only imagine what the experience must have been like for Jericho. He was sensitive and felt things deeply. He’d likely agonized every second his mom had been held by the crime boss. No one could go through something so traumatic and not have scars.
She grazed his hard jaw, wishing she could take his tension upon herself. “That’s an awful thing. Worse than awful. I’m sure the memories have lived right alongside you all this time.”
He nodded. “Told myself I never wanted to become like my dad. But here I am.”
“You’re not like him.”
“When I returned to Chicago, I realized I wanted to hunt criminals. Ineededto hunt them. For my mom’s sake and all the innocents out there like her.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re like your dad—”
“It means I’m living a dangerous life. And I refuse to drag anyone else into it. Especially a woman I love.”
Her heart fluttered. A woman he loved?
As if hearing her unspoken question, he dropped his attention to her face. His eyes radiated with an agony that left her lungs stinging. “I can’t do it, Ivy.”
She understood what he was saying but didn’t like it. She could never think of asking him to stop doing the work he was passionate about. But at the same time, she couldn’t fathom losing him forever. “You know I’m a strong woman, and I won’t let nobody hurt me.”
It was his turn to cup her cheek, and he did so gently. “You’re a very strong woman, one of the strongest I’ve ever met.”
