Colton's Lethal Reunion (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

Or happy about the fact that she’d deliberately tried to hurt him. That wasn’t her way, never had been, and it wasn’t going to start now.

Rafe had swallowed his bite of lasagna and was looking at her.

“Your mother? You found her? When?”

His eyes lit up like the Rafe she’d known, the boy who’d worn his heart on his sleeve, at least when he was with her.

The one she’d have sworn would love her forever. Be by her side forever.

Part of her wanted to clam up. But she was still feeling the smack of what she’d just done, asking a question just to be able to point out that he wasn’t really a Colton. Didn’t like the look she’d seen of herself. She would not be that bitter woman who lived alone and pushed everyone away, and then felt sorry for herself because she was alone. Not any part of that woman—except flying solo. She was okay with that. Used to that.

Knew how to do that and be happy—and be good to others.

“After you...weren’t coming around anymore...my father told me that there was a whole world of men out there, that I didn’t have to settle for being on a ranch in the middle of nowhere...”

His lips tightened. So maybe her reasoning for bringing up her mom hadn’t been completely altruistic. Maybe she was still digging at him a little. But he had to know the one to understand the other. Had to know why, after all his years of silence, her father had finally opened up about the mother she barely remembered.

“That’s when he told me that my mom had left him for a city man. Because he had so much more to offer her. A whole life of exciting experiences. I think he was trying to comfort me,” she said. And knew that what she was really doing was telling Rafe something that she’d yearned to tell him long ago.

Something she’d needed to run to him with; only he hadn’t been there.

She still wanted him to know. Not to hurt him. But just to be able to tell him.

“What I figured out, though, was that she gave up custody of her kids for the allure of bright lights.”

Like Rafe had given her up for the chance at finer things. She looked over at him, having completely lost what little appetite she had.

He studied her, his blue eyes shadowed, and put down his fork. “Like I did. That’s what you’re thinking.” She didn’t say a word. “It wasn’t like that, Kerry.”

“How do you know? You don’t know my mother.”

“I didn’t leave you because I wanted what the Coltons could give me.”

“Sure you did. I don’t blame you, Rafe. Seriously. You were five when your father died. You had no say in what happened then. And later...you were only thirteen. Where were you going to go? Who’d support you? I get it.”

Right up until he’d become an adult. They’d both returned to Mustang Valley—he had to have known that he was part of the reason she’d come back—and yet he’d never contacted her.

He looked like he had more to say, lifted a hand, palm up, and then let it fall. “Anyway, you looked her up. When? Did you find her?”

“I did,” she said, letting the rest go. Because there was no point in not doing so. They’d both made their choices. “I went to college at Arizona State University, in Phoenix, and during one of my criminal justice classes, we were doing investigations... I looked her up. It didn’t take much to find her. She wasn’t hiding. All I had to do, really was look up her name online...”

“So...” His gaze intent, he leaned toward her and he was that boy again, or she wished she was that girl, telling her best friend one of the most important things about her. And knowing he really cared and wanted to share it with her.

“I called her. She sounded happy to hear from me. Agreed to meet me...”

She could feel the moisture start to seep in at the sides of her eyes, but smiled, looked him straight in the eye.

“I knew the second I saw her she was an addict. She had the scabs on her face. Was skinny and sunken in. Her skin...” She shook her head. “All she wanted from me was money to feed her habit.”

Head shaking, Rafe reached for her hand. “I’m so sorry, Ker. So, so sorry. It’s so incredible that you’ve managed to make such a great life for yourself, in spite of having both parents as addicts.”

She shook her head, too, and took her hand back, using it to feed herself another bite she didn’t want. She didn’t want his admiration. She wanted him to know her well enough to just assume that of course she would have made something of herself. “I tried to help her,” she said. “Got her into rehab, gave her what little money I had.” Then she shrugged. “But you know how that goes. I finally had to admit that I was nothing to her, not emotionally. I meant no more to her than anyone else from whom she might get a handout. She was prostituting herself for drugs the last time I saw her. She’d been making her choices her whole life and I wasn’t going to change them.”

“Did you tell your dad?”

“No.” What point would there have been in that? He’d died never knowing what his wife had become in her effort to get away from him and his life on a ranch.

Her parents probably loved each other once. And the pain of loving had brought out the worst in both of them. Maybe her father had already been drinking too much. Or her mother had been using. All she knew was that the failed relationship had been the final nail in two coffins.