A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion (The Boones of Texas 1)

“Is he okay?”

“Not really.” His voice was sharp. “He was crying pretty hard when I got home.”

She tried to take his hand, but he pulled his away, shoving it deep in his pocket. He was upset, that was all. He had every right to be upset. “Can I do anything?”

He looked at her then, raw and defeated. “Jo—”

“I feel so bad. He’s so grown-up, it’s easy to forget he’s still so young.” She shook her head.

“But he is young. And impressionable.” He paused, straightening. “I can’t put his safety in jeopardy.” His eyes bore into hers. “I don’t understand why you picked him up.” His voice was accusing. “Why, Jo?”

She blinked, stunned. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. “I was trying to help.”

His brow furrowed. “Help? How the hell do you think what you did helped?”

She stepped back, glancing around the bakery. “Hunter—”

“Eleven years is a long time. People change.” He swallowed, the hurt on his face cutting through her. “I never thought you’d put a child in harm’s way.”

“What?” She gasped.

“Amy talked to the police.” Hunter lowered his voice.

She held on to the back of one of the diner chairs. She knew he’d be angry with Amy—he had every right to be. If he felt it was necessary to bring the police into it, then things must be worse than she knew. “I’m sorry it led to this.”

“What did you expect to happen?” His eyes searched hers. “I don’t know if she’ll press charges or not. But I can’t defend you.”

And just like that, the floor was pulled out from under her. It was hard to breathe, let alone ask, “What...what did Eli tell you?”

“Everything. After Amy showed up, screaming about Eli missing.”

“Missing? But he... Eli left a note.” What was happening?

“He left a note, Jo?” Hunter ran a hand over his face. “So that makes it okay that you took him without Amy knowing?”

“I—”

“How much did you have to drink last night?” he asked, leaning forward.

“What?” she gasped. “What are you insinuating?”

“I’m not insinuating a thing. I’m asking for clarification.”

She couldn’t decide which was stronger, the pain in her heart or the anger rushing through her veins. She chose anger—it was easier to deal with. “What did Eli tell you?” she repeated slowly.

“God, Jo, you can’t remember?” He sighed, clearly disgusted.

“Humor me,” she snapped.

“You showed up, told him I’d sent you to take him back to my dad’s, since I was working late.” He put his hands on his hips.

“And Amy was?”

“In the shower.” He took another step closer, so there was barely an inch between them. “The worst part is that he didn’t feel safe, Jo. He’s my son.”

She stared at him, pain trumping anger. “Eli said that?”

Hunter nodded.