Shattered Trust (Colorado Trust 4)

In the middle of the kiss, images began to surface in his mind. With each one, his guilt rose until it completely took over desire. He gripped the firm flesh of her upper arms and set her away from him.

“Damn it, Marley. Couldn’t just let me change the subject, could you?”

He paced away from the fire and stared out into the dark, fists clenched at his sides. “Couldn’t just let the damn thing alone.”

Not a single night sound made it through the roaring in his head. He wished she’d say something, anything, so he could lash out and release the emotions seething inside him. It was as if she’d poked a caged beast with a sharp stick and now the damn animal refused to lie back down.

She didn’t say a word. She just stood there by the fire, waiting for him to spill his guts. He glanced over and, amazingly, felt the tightness around his chest ease.

“It was an accident.”

Marley had to strain to hear his low voice.

Then he gave a sharp, humorless snort. “God, I hate that word.”

Afraid he’d clam up, she kept completely still as he paced back to the chairs. He motioned for her to sit before lowering himself to the end of his lounger, elbows braced on his knees. She watched his fire-lit profile as he clasped his hands firmly together, released, and clasped them again.

“I was working at Hunter during the summer while going to college, getting practical experience for after graduation.”

She nodded even though he didn’t look in her direction.

“I’d trained on most of the machines already, but the last was the bulldozer. I wanted to learn everything I could, as fast as I could, and I was cocky because I was good at all of it.”

He stared into the fire and she noticed his knuckles whiten.

“I wasn’t supposed to operate the dozer that day…the foreman had me assigned to the dump truck, but then the regular dozer guy didn’t show up. Greg Johnson. I figured I knew what had to be done as well as anyone, so I jumped on up. I didn’t get more than a couple haphazard swaths cleared before the foreman came over, yelling and cursing that just because I was the owner’s grandson didn’t mean I could do whatever I wanted and to get my ass off the machine. I saw Greg parking his truck, so I left the machine running, put on the parking brake, and climbed down.”

He fell silent. Deep frown lines carved into his brow.

“I’ve been over it in my head a million times, and I just keep thinking that if only I’d waited…if only I hadn’t been such a cocky, know-it-all, bastard…”

She heard him swallow hard before he spoke again.

“Greg’s boot caught on a root as he walked in front of the dozer, but before he could move, the machine suddenly jerked into gear and started forward. None of us could get there in time, and Greg—”

Justin’s eyes squeezed shut as his emotion-roughened voice broke. “He lasted a day in intensive care before he died.”

Head hung low, he drew a deep, shuddering breath. Marley shifted over to his chair and sat just behind him. She slid her arms around his waist, pressing against his back as she laid her cheek on his shoulder. Tears clogged her throat. “It was a freak accident.”

“An accident.” He reached a hand to wipe his eyes. His gaze remained focused on the fire. “They found the brake cable was faulty, but—”

“How can you blame yourself then

?”

“If I’d done the job I was supposed to do and left the dozer alone, it wouldn’t have been running when he walked in front of it.”

She hugged him tighter, shaking her head against his back. “Justin, it wasn’t your fault. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“I know that in my mind, but my heart won’t accept it. I still feel responsible.”

She didn’t know what to say other than to repeat that it wasn’t his fault. After a few minutes, he shifted free of her arms. Before she could return to her own chair, he slid back and pulled her with him. She hesitated, then gave in and relaxed against his chest, leaning her head on his shoulder. His arms held her close, crossed over her ribs, just below her breasts.

“I’m sorry I pushed,” she said softly. “If I’d had any clue—”

“I’ve never told anyone. Not even Jordan.”

Her heart swelled, the emotion inside her chest almost painful. A log shifted on the fire, dropping into the pile of coals that glowed reddish-orange. A spray of embers shot toward the night sky.