He held the door wide for her, tucking her inside and out of arm's reach before making tracks for the house. He forced himself not to look back. Eight hours of sleep and a solid morning of work and he'd be back on track. He gripped the doorknob.
Why hadn't she turned on the car?
He glanced over his shoulder and found Julia Sinclair doing the very last thing he expected.
Crying.
Not wracking, dramatic sobs like Pam had poured all over their arguments, but slow, leaking tears. Her whole body trembled as if from the mammoth effort of holding back.
Those few tears hammered him more than open floodgates.
The past year had been beyond hell for her, but never once had he seen anything more than those restrained tears. Even at her husband's funeral, she'd been pale but composed when Zach, Bronco, Cutter and Tag had walked past carrying the casket out of the church. Zach could still feel the weight of her dead husband in his hands, the weight of her constrained grief on his shoulders.
And none of it came close to the ten-ton thud on his soul as he saw a tear slide off her nose.
Zach charged down the steps. He'd spent the past months hell-bent on making sure Julia had whatever she needed. Damned if he would fail her now.
Julia clenched the steering wheel until her palms slicked with sweat. The muscles in her arms vibrated with tension. She would not cry. She would not cry.
Two tears did not count as crying!
Julia swiped both drops from the end of her nose. Damn Zach for making her vulnerable with all that concern tearing down her defenses.
Count blessings. Her son was happy, the most important blessing of all. Even one of his precious baby smiles cancelled out anything else.
Yet, as much as she wanted to believe raising a happy child was her only goal, she knew Patrick needed so much more from her than smiles, especially during this first year.
Another tear leaked free. Between work and Patrick's packed schedule of doctor appointments, therapy sessions and support meetings, when would she have time just to smile with her baby?
The car door clicked just before it opened.
She didn't even have to look. She could feel him there. Zach. Tall, strong and always there for her no matter how shrewish she was as she sent him on his way because she couldn't handle a few silly hormones.
Zach knelt beside her. He pulled her into his arms and God help her, she didn't have the will to say no. She would steal just a few minutes to relax against his chest, a chest even more wonderful than she'd dreamed it would be. And man, had she ever savored some secret dreams about that chest over the last six weeks. Musk and man swirled through her senses.
Comfort break officially over.
Julia inched away. "I don't cry."
Zach held firm. "I know."
Maybe she could stay another minute. "I won't cry now."
"Of course not."
"Life's all about attitude." Since she'd already tossed control to the wind for the moment, Julia allowed her fingers the pleasure of exploring the rough texture along his hairline, bristly hair trimmed short into a tapered military cut. "Crying doesn't fix anything but smiles can move mountains."
Or this man could, by sheer force of his will.
Zach didn't speak, his silent acceptance of her need to vent wearing down her resistance more than a thousand platitudes.
"I probably just need a good night's sleep."
"Babies have a way of making that tough."
Julia pulled free and tried to ignore the urge to climb back into his arms. "No, Patrick's not any trouble. He's such an easy baby, eats and sleeps most of the time. Sure, he has his moments, like when he doesn't want his feet uncovered. But he's such a blessing."
Zach nodded. "Yes, ma'am, he is."