“I loved him, Mom. I loved him so much.”

Dominique reached for her and held her tight. She didn’t offer reassurances or say anything stupid like “you’ll be fine.” Instead she simply offered physical comfort without judgment.

Eventually Charlie was able to catch her breath and straighten.

“It’s my fault,” she whispered. “Not whatever went wrong. I have no idea about that. But loving him. He was too good to be true, you know? Too perfect.”

“It’s never wrong to love someone,” her mother said. “You’re a wonderful woman. He was lucky to have you and a complete jackass for letting you go.”

The unexpected words made Charlie smile through her tears. “Thanks. That’s so nice.”

“You’re welcome and I’m right. Ask anyone.”

“Not Clay.”

“Why would you want the opinion of a jackass?”

“Good point.” Charlie blew her nose. “I have to tell you something and I need you not to judge me. Okay?”

Dominique nodded. “I promise.”

Oddly, Charlie felt as if she could trust her. “Clay and I weren’t dating at the beginning. After the rape, I couldn’t imagine being with a man. I dated some, but I could never bring myself to be intimate. It was easier to avoid men, so I did.”

Charlie talked about how she’d decided she wanted to have a child and that her friend, Dakota, had suggested Charlie needed to heal herself first. That to be the best mother she could, she would need to be whole. While therapy was an option, Charlie wasn’t that patient and she’d decided to find a guy to help her get over her fear of physical intimacy. She’d chosen Clay.

“I’m impressed you had the courage,” her mother told her. “Continuing to hide would have been much easier.”

“Tell me about it,” Charlie said. She drew in a breath and gave a brief recap of her physical relationship with Clay.

“Once he got me, um, back to normal, I thought it was going to be over. But he said he wanted us to continue to see each other. Like we were dating. I believed everything was fine until this morning. When he told me...”

The raw agony returned, as did the tears. She tried to steady her breathing without breaking down and was nearly successful. Once again her tiny mother held her as if she would never let go.

“It hurts,” Charlie whispered. “It hurts so much.”

“I know,” Dominique said quietly.

They hung on to each other. Charlie tried to calm herself. To accept that this level of pain was her new normal. Others had survived much worse. Didn’t everyone have to get over a broken heart?

But rational thought didn’t help and she was left with the knowledge that she might love Clay forever. Much as her mother had loved her father over a decade after his death.

“I could have Justice hurt him,” Dominique offered.

“Who?”

“Justice. The bodyguard I hired. I have his number. I could call him and have him take care of Clay.”

Charlie managed to slow the tears enough to smile. “That’s great, Mom, but I’ll pass.”

“It might make you feel better.”

“If beating up Clay was going to help, I’d want to do it myself.”

Only she couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything but hold him. To be close to him again, feeling his body against hers.

It wasn’t just that, she realized. She wanted to talk to him. Hear his voice, laugh at his jokes.

“He has a really good sense of humor, you know,” she said, her voice slightly strangled. “When we were first talking about ha**g s*x he teased me about the photos I’d seen of him. He said they’d enhanced his ‘package.’ He’s like that. He can make fun of himself. But when the conversation is serious, he’s totally there. He cares so much, about his family, about...”

About Diane, she thought sadly.  The woman he loved. Was that what had happened? Had he guessed her feelings and been upset by them? There had been a tacit understanding between them. They were dating, but not supposed to get serious.

“He knew,” she said slowly. “He figured out I fell in love with him. That’s why he left.”

Dominique cupped Charlie’s face in her hands. “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s a stupid reason for Clay to leave. Besides, if he’s all that you claim, and he thought you were in love with him, he would have been a whole lot more gentle about how he left. If you ask me, whatever is going on is happening in his head alone. Maybe he has started to care about you and is feeling guilty. Maybe he’s actually a bastard and this is what he does. Whatever it is, you are not to blame. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Whether or not they were the truth, the words felt good, Charlie thought. Supportive.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Now wait right here. I want to get you something.”

Dominique rose and walked into the bedroom. Charlie hoped she wasn’t going to return with an inspirational book. Right now that was the last thing she needed. But instead of reading material, her mother returned with a small key chain.

“I have a very nice apartment with a view of Central Park,” Dominique said, handing over the keys. “I would suggest you go there and see for yourself.”

Charlie stared at her. “You’re sending me to New York?”

“Sometimes getting away is the best solution. You’ll have time to think without worrying about running into him. Or people looking sympathetic. I can tell you from personal experience that sympathy is the worst.”

Charlie wanted to say that her home was here, in Fool’s Gold. That her friends were here and her job. Except the idea of running had a certain appeal. There would be no explanations. She wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. She could curl up and lick her wounds. Gain strength. Then come home.

“I do have vacation time owed me,” she said slowly. Weeks of it, she thought. She’d always loved her job too much to bother with time off.

She reached out and took the key. “Thanks,” she said.

“You’re welcome. I’ll call and tell my doorman you’re coming. Now let’s go online and find you a flight. If you’re flying out of Sacramento, I’m not sure there’s a direct. Hmm, I’ll call the air-charter company May used.”

“Mom, I’m not taking a private plane to New York.”

“Let’s find out if they can do it. If not, they can fly you to San Francisco and then you can get a direct flight there.” Dominique touched her arm. “You’re my daughter. I love you. I want to take care of you.”

Charlie stood and pulled her close. Her tiny mother went easily into her arms. She was so small, Charlie had the sense she could crush her like a twig. Yet there was a strength in Dominique. Something Charlie had to hope she’d inherited.

* * *

“YOU DID IT,” Shane said, standing with Clay at the edge of the freshly planted fields.

“It wasn’t me,” Clay said. “Bernard and Ernie did all the work.”

“Is it just me or do they make you think of Bert and Ernie?”

Clay managed a chuckle. “Sometimes. Assuming Muppets age.” He studied the land that had been through so much. “Disaster averted.”

“I heard about the carousel,” Shane told him. “Going to take it?”

“I haven’t seen it yet. Maybe. I like the idea of it.” More important, Charlie had liked the idea of it.

Damn. She was in his head. He hadn’t realized that when he’d ended things. Not that it would have changed his mind, but he might have been a little more prepared. He thought about her constantly, missed her. Needed her.

“Rafe and I decided you have to eat all the casseroles made with tuna,” his brother told him.

Clay managed a chuckle. “Sure. That won’t bother me. I’ve eaten worse.”

“Evie’s looking better.”

“She’s up and around.”

Still not talking very much and avoiding their mother, but healing.

“Rafe still hasn’t told her he closed up her apartment,” Shane said.

“That’ll be an explosion.”

Shane drew in a breath. “You okay?”

There were other questions buried in the couple of words. And a simple answer.

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“So I should let it go?”

“Uh-huh.”

Shane shoved his hands into his jeans front pockets. “Charlie’s special.”

“This is you letting it go?”

“I can’t do that. You miss her.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You love her.”

Clay turned to his brother. “How do you know that?”

Shane shrugged. “I know you. And I’ve just been through the same thing myself. My mistake was thinking I couldn’t trust Annabelle to be the kind of woman I thought I needed. Turns out I was wrong. About her and about what was best for me. I think you’re making the same mistake.”

“No,” he said flatly. “You don’t understand. Your first marriage ended in divorce. The only reason I’m not with Diane is that she died. Otherwise, we’d still be together.”

“But she did die,” Shane reminded him. “Years ago. It’s time, bro. You can’t live in the past.”

“I don’t. That’s not what this is about. I don’t want to be with Charlie.”

“Why not?”

At that moment, Clay couldn’t think of a single reason.

“I thought you’d come around,” Shane told him. “I guess I was wrong. Her leaving was for the best.”

Clay stared at him. “Leaving? What are you talking about?”

“Charlie left yesterday. I thought you knew.”

Charlie gone? “Where?” She couldn’t leave. Fool’s Gold was her home. She belonged here.

His brother shrugged. “I don’t know. Annabelle didn’t say.” He drew his eyebrows together. “She’s sure as hell not going to tell you, so don’t bother asking.”

Clay took a step and stumbled. As he righted himself, he knew her leaving was his fault. He’d driven her away.

“I have to get back,” he said and started toward the house. He half expected Shane to follow, but his brother let him go.

Yet there was no peace in the long walk back. And when he walked into the kitchen, his mother was waiting.

“We have to talk,” May told him.

“Mom, no.”

“Fine. Then I’ll talk and you listen.” She moved close and put her hands on his shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, Clay. At what you’ve accomplished. Your modeling career and now the Haycations. You’re a success. You found Diane and married her. She was wonderful.”

He didn’t know where the conversation was going but he knew he wouldn’t like it.

His mother stared into his eyes. “Now you’re being a complete idiot and she wouldn’t be happy at all. Do you think avoiding caring about anyone else honors her memory? Is that what you learned from loving her? To never share your heart with anyone else? What a horrible lesson.”

He flinched. “It’s not like that.”

“Of course it is. You think I don’t know? I lived it, Clay. For twenty years I kept my heart under lock and key. When your father died, I wanted to die, too. But I had my three boys and you kept me going. Then I had that night with that man and I turned up pregnant. I was so ashamed. Humiliated. Evie was proof of my betrayal. That’s how I saw her. Living proof of my mistake. So I held back from her. I was a cruel mother and I hurt my daughter. For years I was distant. I knew what she wanted, what she needed, and I wasn’t there for her. My actions are my worst sin. I will regret what I did for the rest of my life. But that’s nothing. The person who has to pay for my mistakes is my own daughter.”

Clay ached for her. “Mom...” he began.

She shook her head. “Don’t try to make me feel better. There’s no point in it. Now my daughter hates me and she has every reason. I want to heal what’s between us and I’m not sure I deserve a second chance. All because I closed my heart to the possibilities.”

She picked up a folder from the table and handed it to him. “This came today from your photographer friend. He thought I might like a copy. When I saw it, I knew the truth.”

He opened the folder and saw a picture. It was the one taken at the photo shoot, of him and Charlie together. They were looking at each other.

She was so damn beautiful, he thought, taking in her blue eyes, the smile, her short hair all mussed because she’d been nervous and running her hands through it.

Then his gaze shifted to his face and he saw what his mother had seen. Love. It was so clear, it was practically in writing. Even then he’d loved her. Had wanted to be with her. Only he couldn’t because... Because...

“You’re afraid,” his mother said softly.

He put down the picture. “Terrified.”

“It’s safer to be alone. Easier. You can live a small, tidy life and never be hurt. There are no highs, but there aren’t any lows, either.”

Not a philosophy to make Diane  proud, he thought. Or himself. Not what he aspired to.

His mother put her hand on his chest. “What a waste of a perfectly good heart,” she said.

And he knew she was right.