"Course I did. "
Mariah blinked at him in surprise. "What kind of excuse is that?"
"Its no excuse. Do I need one?"
"He was teaching me to fight, Mariah," Jake said, holding his reddening jaw.
Mariah turned to Jake. "Teaching you to fight? Why?"
Mad Dog grinned. "A boy needs to know how to defend himself. Its a manly thing. "
Mariah refused to be swayed by his smile, though she felt the heat of it all the way to her toes. "You dont need fists for protection," she said stubbornly.
"Not when youve got the butt end of a shotgun, eh, Mariah?" Mad Dog said softly.
The whisper of his breath brushed her throat, and for a split second, she forgot what she was arguing about.
Jake surged toward her, too. "I want to learn how to fight, Mariah. Really, I do. "
She gazed into Jakes wide eyes and saw something that looked like desperation. A small, uncertain frown pulled at her lips. She sighed and crossed her arms. It was obvious that Jake wanted this, wanted it a lot.
Youre not his mother. The words came at her, hard. She flinched and slowly lowered her arms. She might want to be a mother, but she wasnt. What did she know about the needs of a young man?
Jake looked at her beseechingly, as if begging her to understand. "I just didnt duck fast enough, thats all. "
She turned to Mad Dog, trying not to sound as motherly as she felt. "I dont . . .
want you hurting him. "
Mad Dog sobered. "If hes not fast enough, hes gonna get popped. Thats a plain and simple fact. " He turned to Jake. "You want to keep learnin?"
"Yes. " He nodded fervently. "Please. "
Mad Dog turned back to Mariah. "Gettin hurt is part of life, Mariah. Pretending otherwise is stupid. The boy needs to learn how to take care of himself, but the lessonsre gonna hurt. Can you understand that?"
A wave of sadness spilled through her at his quiet words. They were so like him, so damned honest and heart-wrenching. He saw everything clearly, without the blinders shed worn for years. "I understand," she said quietly, and she did. Better than he could ever know. If there was one thing she understood, it was lifes painful lessons.
Their eyes met, her wide with old sorrows, his filled with infinite tenderness. "Ah, Mariah . . . " He reached out.
She shivered, anticipating his touch.
But he didnt touch her. He leaned toward her, close. She felt the caressing strands of his breath along the side of her face. Then, slowly, he put a hand at her waist and drew her toward him, whispering words to be heard by her alone. "You did the right thing, stepping in when you thought I was beating him. Most . . . " His voice cracked, thickened. "Most women wouldve been too scared. You would have made a hell of a mother. "
Mariahs ability to breathe died for a single, exquisite second. Joy filled her heart and almost made her weep at its poignant sharpness. Nothing he could have said would have meant more to her. Her throat burned with unshed tears, her eyes glittered with them.
She looked at him, met his searingly honest gaze and knew that he meant it.
Suddenly she wanted to tell him about Thomas, to share with him the excruciating burden of her sadness and let her soul be comforted by the simple act of talking.
"Come on, Mad Dog, lets fight. " Jakes youthful voice shattered the moment, sent it spiraling into the oblivion of lost chances.
Mariah forced a bittersweet smile. "Try not to hurt him," she whispered throatily.
Mad Dog didnt smile. He just looked at her through those heart-wrenchingly honest gray eyes. "I always try not to hurt people. "
"But it happens," Mariah said quietly.
Mad Dog sighed. They both knew exactly what they were talking about, and it had nothing to do with Boxing. "It happens. "