the average man had to expend. He’d never had it work against him before. “That’s much too narrow-minded for someone like you.”
Maren abruptly stopped walking and looked at him, her temper flaring. She knew she was overreacting, but she couldn’t help it. Because today was the day it was, her nerves were all close to the surface. She’d managed to keep them under control all day, but now she was on overload.
“How would you know about someone like me?” she demanded hotly. “You don’t know anything about me.”
This display of temper caught him off guard. He spoke softly, gently, as if he was trying to disarm an emotional possible suspect. He supposed, in a way, he was.
“I know that you’re fair. That you care about the people you work with. That you’re not just some boss, pushing people around, interested only in getting ahead and nothing more. I saw the way you were with April….”
He saw tears shimmering in her eyes and felt something tugging on his heart. He hated to see a woman cry. From as far back as he could remember, tears had always affected him. They were guaranteed to bring out his protective nature. Seeing tears in a woman’s eyes made him want to right wrongs, to slay dragons, to do whatever it took to make a woman stop crying.
“What did I say, Ms. Minnesota?” he asked softly. “What did I say to make you want to cry?”
Standing here in the moonlight like this, with stars covering the darkness, she laughed at the absurdity of hearing him call her by her surname. She had no idea why it sounded so silly on his lips, but it did.
“Nothing. You didn’t say anything. It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off as she felt memories squeezing her heart.
“Just that what?” he coaxed.
She took a deep breath before answering. “Today’s Melissa’s birthday.”
“Melissa?”
She nodded, looking away. Afraid that once the tears began, she wouldn’t be able to stop them and she didn’t want to cry in front of him.
Her eyes stung.
“My daughter,” she whispered.
“You have a daughter?” Something else the radar hadn’t picked up, he thought.
“Had.” The single word scratched against her throat like a cat-o’-nine-tails.
He couldn’t leave it alone. She’d put it out there for him to examine and he had a feeling she needed to talk, as hard as it was on her. “What happened to her?”
“She died.” Each word she uttered was filled with tears. “She was two months old and I was too tired to check on her.” Maren wrapped her arms around herself. The coldness wouldn’t leave. “She’d cried all day long, no matter what I did, and then she finally fell asleep. I was so happy to get a few minutes of peace. I remember thinking that she’d just cried herself out, that there was nothing odd about her sleeping so long. That she’d learned how to sleep through the night.” Maren blew out a long, shaky breath. Her insides wouldn’t stop trembling. “But she wasn’t sleeping. She was gone. She…just…died.”
Her pain came to him in waves. “Oh, God, Maren, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head, not because of what he said, but because of her own helplessness. “I keep thinking if I had just come into her room sooner, if I hadn’t fallen asleep myself—”
He cut through her blame. “You were exhausted.”
There was no excuse for what she’d done, or failed to do. Her anger at herself spilled out onto him. “I was her mother! I should have known something was wrong!”
“Just because you’re a mother doesn’t mean you have extraordinary powers. Doctors haven’t been able to figure out how to prevent SIDS.” Which was what he assumed her baby had died of. “You can’t beat yourself up this way. Things happen.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling out this time. “This wasn’t a ‘thing.’ This was my baby.” Her throat felt as if it was closing up. “My baby…”
Jared put his arms around her. Dropping her
Maren abruptly stopped walking and looked at him, her temper flaring. She knew she was overreacting, but she couldn’t help it. Because today was the day it was, her nerves were all close to the surface. She’d managed to keep them under control all day, but now she was on overload.
“How would you know about someone like me?” she demanded hotly. “You don’t know anything about me.”
This display of temper caught him off guard. He spoke softly, gently, as if he was trying to disarm an emotional possible suspect. He supposed, in a way, he was.
“I know that you’re fair. That you care about the people you work with. That you’re not just some boss, pushing people around, interested only in getting ahead and nothing more. I saw the way you were with April….”
He saw tears shimmering in her eyes and felt something tugging on his heart. He hated to see a woman cry. From as far back as he could remember, tears had always affected him. They were guaranteed to bring out his protective nature. Seeing tears in a woman’s eyes made him want to right wrongs, to slay dragons, to do whatever it took to make a woman stop crying.
“What did I say, Ms. Minnesota?” he asked softly. “What did I say to make you want to cry?”
Standing here in the moonlight like this, with stars covering the darkness, she laughed at the absurdity of hearing him call her by her surname. She had no idea why it sounded so silly on his lips, but it did.
“Nothing. You didn’t say anything. It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off as she felt memories squeezing her heart.
“Just that what?” he coaxed.
She took a deep breath before answering. “Today’s Melissa’s birthday.”
“Melissa?”
She nodded, looking away. Afraid that once the tears began, she wouldn’t be able to stop them and she didn’t want to cry in front of him.
Her eyes stung.
“My daughter,” she whispered.
“You have a daughter?” Something else the radar hadn’t picked up, he thought.
“Had.” The single word scratched against her throat like a cat-o’-nine-tails.
He couldn’t leave it alone. She’d put it out there for him to examine and he had a feeling she needed to talk, as hard as it was on her. “What happened to her?”
“She died.” Each word she uttered was filled with tears. “She was two months old and I was too tired to check on her.” Maren wrapped her arms around herself. The coldness wouldn’t leave. “She’d cried all day long, no matter what I did, and then she finally fell asleep. I was so happy to get a few minutes of peace. I remember thinking that she’d just cried herself out, that there was nothing odd about her sleeping so long. That she’d learned how to sleep through the night.” Maren blew out a long, shaky breath. Her insides wouldn’t stop trembling. “But she wasn’t sleeping. She was gone. She…just…died.”
Her pain came to him in waves. “Oh, God, Maren, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head, not because of what he said, but because of her own helplessness. “I keep thinking if I had just come into her room sooner, if I hadn’t fallen asleep myself—”
He cut through her blame. “You were exhausted.”
There was no excuse for what she’d done, or failed to do. Her anger at herself spilled out onto him. “I was her mother! I should have known something was wrong!”
“Just because you’re a mother doesn’t mean you have extraordinary powers. Doctors haven’t been able to figure out how to prevent SIDS.” Which was what he assumed her baby had died of. “You can’t beat yourself up this way. Things happen.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling out this time. “This wasn’t a ‘thing.’ This was my baby.” Her throat felt as if it was closing up. “My baby…”
Jared put his arms around her. Dropping her