Evidence of Trust (Colorado Trust 1)

His first instinct was to charge in and demand answers, but right now, her jitters reminded him of the mustang. She hated being told what to do—a result of her father’s controlling influence in her life, no doubt. Direct confrontation would only get her hackles up like back in the parking lot, and he’d be no further ahead than he was now.

No, it’d be better if she came to him on her own. He needed her to trust him—wanted her to, yet the past hour clearly proved something still held her back. The level at which her reticence bothered him was downright frightening because it told him he cared too much.

And yet, he couldn’t help himself. Hadn’t really been able to help himself since the day he’d met her. Didn’t she realize he’d stand by her side and do anything to keep her safe?

Maybe not after the betrayal of her fiancé and her father. God, did he identify with how something that hit so deep could screw with a person and make them doubt just about everything about themselves and others.

Letting her know he understood could help him earn her trust, but he’d never spoken to anyone about his mother. Not even his father, who’d been dealing with his own heartbreak at the time. They’d both learned how to pretend they were fine, and over the years, avoiding the subject had been easiest for both of them.

Was this woman in front of him worth the risk of unearthing that buried anguish?

The resounding yes in his mind sent his pulse into overdrive.

Well, shit.

Joel stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders as he moved forward to stand beside her in the aisle. Letting out a silent sigh, he forced his shoulders to relax.

“Remember when you asked me if I was close with my mother?”

That got him another glance, surprised this time. “You said you weren’t.”

“I was eight when she left. She packed her bags, walked out the door, and got into some guy’s limo. My dad was at work. I begged her to stay, but she wouldn’t even look at me. The driver held me back until she shut her door, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her eyebrows raise, but kept his gaze trained on the mustang. After all the effort to keep his mother shut in the past, acknowledging her abandonment brought such an intense rush of pain, it was almost as if it’d happened yesterday instead of years ago.

A growing lump threatened to close off his throat, but he swallowed past it and drew in a deep breath to continue. “No calls. No cards. Nothing.”

“That really sucks.”

Her heartfelt declaration surprised a laugh out of him. Three little words, yet they held a wealth of understanding. “Yeah. It did.”

They both watched the mare move restlessly in her stall.

“She’s the reason you avoid relationships, isn’t she?”

For the first time in his life, he acknowledged that truth. To himself anyway.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair, then rubbed the back of his neck. The move had played out so much better in his mind. Now he felt too exposed. He dropped his arm back to his side and shoved his hand in his pocket as he shrugged. “I want you to know you can trust me.”

He wasn’t facing her directly, but even at an angle, he saw a telltale sheen of tears well up in her eyes. Well, crap. He hadn’t meant to make her cry again.

Sh

e reached into her own pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. “I do trust you,” she said as she handed it over. When he began to unfold the wrinkled sheet, she reached up to dash away the moisture from her cheeks. “You’re going to read that and think I don’t, but I swear, I do. I just had to see he was okay first.”

He paused long enough to read uncertainty mixed with defiance in her eyes, then dropped his gaze to the paper. By the time he read the last word, emotions rolled through him like a freight train. Fury at the man who dared threaten her. Anger at her for keeping it from him. Terror over the possibility of him failing to protect her.

It all funneled straight toward her, and he barely stopped from crumpling the paper in his fist. To get a grip on his control, he carefully refolded the sheet along the creases. “When did you get this?”

“At the apartment.”

Her answer confirmed his suspicion. “You should’ve showed this to me right away.”

“I know, but—”

“You had to see your horse—I know.” He got that, damn it. It was part of what made her her. He just hated that she’d lied to him.