He rubbed her between the shoulder blades. "What happened, Devon?" Instinctively he knew that she had never talked about this with anyone. He was flattered, but it hurt him to see her in such emotional distress.
She pulled in a choppy breath and lowered her hands. "She was dead within two weeks. Inoperable stomach cancer."
"Oh, damn."
She took a clean tissue from the pocket of the jumper and blotted her eyes and nose. Her pretty features were etched with misery and guilt.
"You couldn't have known," he said softly.
"I should have."
"Not based on your past experience."
"I should have listened to her. I should have done something."
"The result would probably have been the same, Devon." His father had died of cancer after fighting it for months.
"Yes, probably," Devon said. "But if I hadn't disregarded her, she wouldn't have suffered. I turned my back on her at a time when she needed someone to believe her."
"From what you said, she had turned her back on you first."
She dusted her hands of the leaf she had shredded. "We weren't tuned in to each other the way you Tylers are. So I can't relate to the camaraderie your family shares, but I think the way you rally together is enviable."
He sensed that the topic of her mother's death was now closed. He wouldn't press. She had opened up to him. It had been too brief a glimpse into Devon's psyche, but he coveted information about her.
He matched her more lighthearted tone. "You don't think we're loud, boisterous, and overwhelming?"
She laughed softly. "A little, perhaps."
"Yeah, we can get pretty rambunctious."
"But it must be nice, knowing you have someone you can count on to stand up for you, no matter what."
"You don't?" He caught her beneath the chin with his fingertip and turned her head to face him. "What about your husband?"
"He's not in a position to rally to my aid now, is he?"
"What if he were in a position to? Would he?"
She lifted her chin off the perch of his finger and turned away again. Lucky dropped his arm to his side. The emotional turmoil on her face was plain. He hated to think he was the one responsible for it.
"You'll have to tell him about us now, won't you?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, Devon. I had hoped to prevent that." If he had hoped it badly enough, he would have left her alone, he thought wryly. He wouldn't have asked her to come to Milton Point and counter Susan's lie with the truth. But thinking primarily of himself, he had coerced her to come. He was confident of acquittal; Devon, however, would suffer permanent consequences. "When will you see him?"
"Tomorrow. I don't want him to hear about it from someone else before I've had a chance to explain. That's why I accepted your mother's invitation to spend the night here. Since I'm this close to the prison, it would be silly to drive back to Dallas, only to have to return to East Texas in the morning."
Lucky wasn't as interested in the logistics of travel as he was in what form her explanation would take. "What are you going to say to him?"
Ruefully she shook her head. "I don't know yet."
"What are you going to tell him about me?"
"As little as possible."
"Are you going to tell him how we met?"