Page 141 of Rocky Mountain Home
“You now know, or will know, the feeling of being floored that you’re responsible for another human being. You handled your own life recklessly, then you fell in love, and there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for that lady. Then suddenly she’s the one doing all the work, and all you can do is hold her hand, and it reduces you to nothing.
“Doesn’t matter how strong you are, or how many bales you can toss. Your muscles are nothing, your smarts are nothing. You’re nothing as they show more strength than we’ll ever have, and in the end we get to meet an amazing new person who didn’t even exist before.
“That’s when you suddenly realize you’re not there because you’re the strong one. The provider or the protector. You’re there because you need them to breathe. You didn’t open your eyes and actually see the world around you until this moment.”
Mike stopped and his grin widened. “I bet you all drove home from the hospital the way you drove the day you took your driver’s test. Cautious. Overcareful. Hell, I bet most of you drove home and your wife sat in the back seat watching the baby to make sure they were okay. Because sitting up front while that bit that’d been in her belly for half of forever—two feet away was too much distance.”
Heads were nodding.
Cassidy straight-up pointed at Travis who had their little girl out of her car seat and draped over his chest like an additional body part. “He sits in the back seat with Daisy.”
More laughter. Dare twisted so she could offer a private smile to Jesse—
He was gone. The chair beside her was empty, and the door to the hall was closing silently.
Dare fixed her smile firmly in place and turned to face the front of the room.
She deliberately focused on other things as Mike kept speaking. She thought about how much, at a moment like this, she missed her own dad. Or she missed what she imagined he would’ve been like—hopefully like this strong, kind man who was determined to be more than just a figurehead for a complicated group of people. An impact on all the lives he touched.
The empty seat beside her all but waved to get her attention.
Okay, fine. Dare would admit it. She was tempted to go after Jesse, but if he needed her help to work something out, he would ask. She had to believe that.
The man she’d met that wild, footloose February night had been energy and power and full of life in the midst of her sorrow. The Jesse she’d gotten to know better during their time together in Heart Falls had been determined and rock solid. Teasing and fun, yet there for her.
He hadn’t once let her down. Not really. His determination to move forward as he stepped back into life in Rocky had impressed her and given her hope.
Whatever had made him walk out now was important—and she’d find out soon enough. But until then she would be patient.
And soak in the family around her.
Jesse swung the axe over and over, losing himself in the rhythm of the motion and the pain. Every blow sent a tremble of hurt through him, from his hands to his shoulders to his back and legs, muscles bunching and bracing for impact. The vibration of the impact a sudden shock wave in unending cycles.
Laying waste to the woodpile at the rental house was a good pain. Pain that washed away the frustration and confusion and left him empty. Unthinking.
Or at least it used to. This time his attempt to hide in the work wasn’t succeeding the same as usual. Now instead of a peaceful, thoughtless haze, the questions and accusations kept coming.
He was supposed to be helping Dare, but he felt as if he was failing her most of the time. She didn’t need him, and the baby didn’t need him—they needed someone, but hell if he deserved for it to be him.
“Son.”
His father’s deep voice broke through the internal noise, and Jesse blinked hard, the axehead dropping from his tired grip to the ground. “Hey.”
Mike stepped to the right and visually measured the pile of split wood at their feet before lifting his gaze to examine Jesse’s face. “Want to talk about it?”
Jesse’s first response was to deny there was anything to talk about, but his father wasn’t a stupid man. Straight-up lying was the wrong choice, and considering he’d hightailed it out of the baby shower without a word—even a fool would know something was wrong.
Mike Coleman? No fool.
Jesse swung the axe once more to set it into the chopping block. He wiped the sweat from his face with his shirtsleeve before grabbing his coat off the nail where he’d abandoned it thirty minutes ago.
“I keep screwing everything up,” he admitted. “Even when I try to make things right, I just add fuel to the fire and make things worse.”
“Then stop chopping wood, son. If the fuel pile gets empty, it’s harder to keep stoking the flames.”
It was his own fault for being cryptic in the first place. He deserved that convoluted bit of advice.
“Hell if I know what you just said,” Jesse admitted.
