"Shameful," he growled into her neck.
"Stop that. I'm officially still working."
"What's this column about?" He had encouraged her to continue writing for the newspaper, so she had made arrangements with her editor to work outside the office and mail her columns in on a weekly basis. Lucky squinted into the screen, but the green symbols always looked like Greek to him.
"Bereavement."
Her softly spoken answer brought his eyes back to her. "Well, you've certainly got firsthand experience to base your theories on, don't you?"
"Did you see him today?"
Lucky nodded. They were all preoccupied with Chase and his steady emotional decline since Tanya's death. "He put in an appearance at the office this morning."
"And?"
"He was drunk again."
"Eight months, and he hasn't even made a start at healing," Devon remarked sadly as she studied the petals of her rose. "Do you think he'll ever get over it?"
"No," Lucky said candidly. "I think the best we can hope for is that he can learn to cope with his grief and lead a productive life again."
Her sad expression reflected the regard she had come to have for her brother-in-law. Lucky loved that about her, too. She had absorbed all the concerns of his family. Their sorrows and joys had become her own. She took them to heart. Family life, with all its blessings and drawbacks, was new to her, but she had blossomed within that environment.
Often she cried with Laurie over the loss of her first grandchild. Sage confided secrets to Devon that she kept from the rest of the family.
Devon celebrated with him the day he temporarily staved off the bank by scraping together a loan payment and lent moral support because business was still dismal despite the replacement of the equipment they had lost in the fire. Tyler Drilling Company hadn't had any new contracts since the one in Louisiana.
Chase was useless, immobilized by his grief. Lucky had been left with the responsibility of trying to save a sinking ship. Devon's faith that he could do it boosted his confidence when it flagged.
"It's awful for him to be so unhappy, to waste his life like this," she murmured now.
"Awful."
"He's never even been inside that house he had me buy for him. It just stands there empty. He wallows in filth and misery in that apartment he shared with Tanya."
"What can we do to help him?"
"I wish to hell I knew. Criticism and lectures only make him nasty and defensive. Sympathy makes him furious. And he's going to get killed riding those damn bulls. He's too old to rodeo."
"Maybe that's what he wants," Devon said sorrowfully. "To die. Bull riding is just a chancy form of suicide."
"God." Lucky wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her breasts. "I can understand how devastating it must be for him. If I ever lost you—"
"But you won't."
"I lost you after our first night together. I nearly went berserk until I found you again. And that was only for a week."
She leaned back and gave him a quizzical look. "You nearly went berserk? You never told me that."
In spite of his brother's bereavement and the sorry state of their business, Lucky was still a newlywed, and frequently behaved like a groom. That included teasing his bride.
"There's a lot I haven't told you," he drawled.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Like what?" she asked.