Free Healing Beau (The Brothers of Beauford Bend Book 6) by Alicia Hunter Pace

didn’t deserve.
    “I can’t believe you remembered,” Christian said again. “I didn’t even think you were paying attention that night.” He hadn’t been, but she saved him every time, even from himself. At least the guilt kept the ghosts at bay.
    But not for long. Neyland came in the room carrying a large garbage bag. “Let’s clean up. It’s almost time for Gwen to come back to make lunch.”
    Exactly what they needed—four more people.
    Abby leapt up from where she was helping Bella, Alice, and Phillip unwrap the stuffed animals he’d gotten for them. “Don’t throw away the ribbons and boxes!” she said in a panicky voice. “Next year’s coming.”
    And a cold wind blew through the room and through Beau, paralyzing his soul and stopping his heart. He’d thought the coldest cold he’d ever know were the two days and nights he’d spent in Afghanistan waiting for a target, waiting to do a job that had to be done but he’d never gotten used to doing. But Christmas memories were colder. That’s what his mother used to say about the ribbons and boxes—not verbatim, but close enough. And they had never wanted to stop playing to straighten ribbons and match tops to boxes.
    He couldn’t take much more of this, even with his anchor. He had to get out. But when he looked at his anchor, she was looking at him curiously. She narrowed her eyes and gave him a little nod. Then she stood.
    “Emory, I hate to bail on lunch preparations, but I need to go back over to Firefly Hall for a little while. I need to check on the horses, and while I’m there, I want to call my mother and wish her a Merry Christmas.”
    Christian was leaving?
    “Of course,” Emory said. “Take your time. You and Neyland cleaned up after breakfast. You’ve done your part. Lunch is at one.”
    That was three hours away. How could he live three hours with the ghosts and no lifeboat?
    “I’ll be back by then.” Christian met Beau’s eyes and barely widened her own. It was so slight no one except him could have possibly noticed.
    Then he got it. “Hey, I’ll drive you. You’ve been drinking eggnog.”
    She pretended to hesitate. “All right. If you don’t mind.”
    Relief washed over him.
    She saved him every single time.

Chapter Eight
    “You really didn’t have to drive,” Christian said as she and Beau stepped through the front door of Firefly Hall. “I didn’t even finish my eggnog.”
     He leaned on the newel post. “And you really don’t have to check on the horses, do you?”
    “Yes—” she began.
    But Beau protested with a raised eyebrow and tilted head.
    “No. No, I don’t. I fed them early this morning.” She hesitated but decided to go on. He would ask anyway. “And I’ve already talked with my mother.”
    “I know.”
    Time for a change of subject. “Let’s go upstairs where it’s warm. We’ve got a few hours to kill.” Maybe they’d watch
Talladega Nights
again.
    But apparently he wasn’t ready to change the subject. Once they were inside the apartment, he said, “How did you know I couldn’t take any more?” He ran a hand up her arm, and she fought the yearning to lean into to him, the way they had leaned into each other at Beauford Bend.
    “You could have taken it.” Christian meant for it come out light and breezy, but there was heartbreak in her voice, and no wonder. Her heart had broken into a million pieces as she’d sat and watched him try so hard to be as happy as his brothers wanted him to be. “You could have taken it, like you’ve taken everything that has been dealt you. But I didn’t want you to have to.”
    “What if,” he said quietly, “what if those things weren’t dealt to me? What if they were my fault?”
    That made less than no sense. “As much as you’d like for everything to be your fault because you want to think you’re always in control, that isn’t true. But for argument’s sake, let’s say that you were to blame for a string of accidents. So what?