I was certain I hadn’t heard her right. My knees felt like they were getting ready to buckle so I unceremoniously plopped on my bed. My eyes were focused but staring at nothing; I couldn’t seem to tear them away from a dark-green candle that rested on my dresser.

I felt the bed sag slightly as Aunt Christy sat next to me and reached for my hand.

“How could he not have told me he has a daughter?” I barely whispered. “I’ve been with him twenty-four seven for more than a week. I’ve shared every secret, good and bad.”

Aunt Christy squeezed my hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Mimi. I didn’t know he hadn’t told you about Abby. I should’ve realized something was off when you didn’t react to her mother’s name.”

I cut my head sharply to the right. Her blue eyes were misty.

“Are you telling me that Autumn is the mother of Christian’s child? The same Autumn who wrote that hateful letter?”

“What letter?” This from my mother who was probably more confused than I was.

I looked up at her and shook my head. “I’ll tell you later, Mom.” So much for keeping that fiasco private.

I stood, freeing Aunt Christy’s hand from mine and approached my dresser. With my back to them, I asked, “And Christian’s daughter never once came up in any of the conversations the four of you have had since our little reunion?” I turned to glare at both of them.

“No, Abby never came up,” my mother admitted, glancing over at Aunt Christy. “Then again, in defense of the Bears, we were all dealing with what I thought were bigger matters.” She leaned against my bookshelf and offered, “Preventing your father from beating the life out of Christian comes to mind.”

Aunt Christy stood up and walked toward me. “And we didn’t make the drive up the mountain together. We were in separate cars. We’d just gotten up from taking a nap and put that pot of coffee on when you came back from your cousin’s.”

Sensing I didn’t want her to come any closer, she stopped. “And when your grandfather was telling stories about Grizz raising twins at his age, I started to chime in about how Anthony and I had been going through the same thing with Abby, but Christian cut me off.”

“Abby lives with you and Uncle Anthony?” I asked, cocking my head to one side.

“We’ve had legal custody of her since she was six months old,” she admitted. “Autumn never wanted a child. She wanted a means to trap Christian. He was sentenced to prison before she gave birth. With him out of the picture, she had no desire to take care of Abby or be a mother.”

I looked at the ceiling and clenched my jaw. “Now it all makes sense. Christian gets out of prison, it’s time for him to get his daughter back, and he needs a mother for her.” I shook my head in disgust. I wanted to muster some anger, but the deep sadness I was feeling smothered it. I’d been a fool.

“No!” Aunt Christy quickly came to Christian’s defense. “I’m not saying that he was right to not tell you. I’m not saying that how he’s gone about any of this was right. But I am saying you’re wrong about the reason why.”

I put my hands on my hips and thrust my jaw forward. “And how could you possibly know Christian’s reason for not telling me about his daughter?”

“Because I know my son, Mimi. I know that he’s ashamed. Not of Abby.” She smiled sadly before continuing. “He’s ashamed of not being there for her. He’s embarrassed that she doesn’t know him, and worse yet, she’s afraid of him. She literally screams when he’s near her.”

I didn’t have a comeback, but knowing she’d caught my attention, she continued. “Christian doesn’t want you to be a mother to the daughter he hasn’t been a father to. I’m sure he has big plans to have more children with you. He has loved you for as long as I can remember, Mimi. And I know he hopes that Abby will come around and that you can be a real family, but I can say for certain that he’s not using you to make that happen.”

My mother stifled a cough and I knew what she was thinking.

“He knows, Mom.” I evenly addressed my mother. “I was up front with him about everything. Everything.” I slapped my hand against my thigh in exasperation. “And I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around all of this—that during our soul-baring moments, he failed to mention his daughter!”

“What does Christian know?” Aunt Christy asked, looking from my mother and then back to me.

“I was in a serious accident. I broke my pelvis and lacerated my uterus.” I looked at the hardwood floor. “I had to have a hysterectomy. I can’t have children, Aunt Christy.”

“That’s not true, Mimi,” my mother interrupted.

I rolled my eyes. “The ovaries are separate from the uterus so they weren’t removed. But I don’t get periods, and I can’t get pregnant or carry a child.”

“But you can have your eggs extracted and use a surrogate?” Aunt Christy asked me.

“Yes, but…” I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t plan on doing that.”

“I see,” was all she said. I detected a short burst of air and before I knew it, Christian’s mother was hugging me. Aunt Christy was so short I could rest my cheek on the top of her head.

She pulled back and looked up at me, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t let Abby come between you and Christian." She sighed before continuing. “Please give him a chance to tell you, Mimi. I heard him say before he walked out that he wanted to talk to you more. I’m guessing that’s what it’s about.”

I blinked but didn’t answer her.

“Christian has always been a ball of frenzied and misplaced anger.” She addressed my mother, admitting, “I’m probably not making a good case in front of his potential future mother-in-law, but please hear me out.” Looking back at me, she smiled and continued, “I used to think it stemmed from when he’d been targeted for the color of his skin when he was a child. He got past that. Then I thought he was naturally belligerent, destined to be a born troublemaker. But now I see it’s not true at all. Christian is a very passionate soul. He always has been. He’s very loyal to those he loves, and I know he loves you, Mimi. Do you know that I cannot remember the last time I saw my son smile before this impromptu gathering? I’m still in shock that he didn’t retaliate against your father. You have always had that effect on him. You’re like a balm to his soul. He’s a different person with you.”

“I don’t want Christian to be a different person, Aunt Christy. I love Christian the way he is. I don’t need or want him to change for me. And most importantly, I don’t want him to be someone he’s not.”

I saw the relief on her face. “That’s my point,” she said followed by a wide grin. “I think the real Christian has been buried beneath all that other stuff. The real Christian is who I’m seeing when I watch him watching you. It’s like his soul is finally being filled up with what’s been missing for so many years.” She made sure I was listening. “You.”

I gave her a half smile and looked over at my mother. I could see the romantic in her was doing battle with her sensible side. She shrugged her shoulders slightly and tilted her head to the side. The complete opposite of her feelings from our earlier conversation, it was her way of telling me to forgive him. That was her belief even though she thought things were progressing too quickly.

Aunt Christy wore a worried expression. “I’ll give him a chance to explain, Aunt Christy. If I detect anything other than what you’ve shared about his reason for not telling me about Abby, I can tell you now this will never work out.”

“That’s all I ask,” she replied.

We all heard my father yell for Aunt Christy. He apparently didn’t know where she’d gone. It was our cue to join the others.

As I followed both women down the stairs I was suddenly gripped by fear. I tried to figure out what I found so frightening, and it hit me as soon as my foot found the bottom step.

I was afraid that it had all been a ruse on Christian’s part. That he was using me. To what extent? I wasn’t sure. To win a misguided bet to marry the infamous Grizz’s daughter? To play mommy to his child while he ran around impregnating other women? To make me pay for riding out of his life five years ago?

The myriad of reasons taunted me as I walked like a zombie through our great room, and zeroed in on Christian and my grandfather talking by themselves on the back deck. They spotted me at the same time, and I watched my grandfather prompt Christian to approach me.

Christian opened the slider, headed toward me with a purpose. “Mimi, come here, please. I have to tell you something.”

I looked past Christian and caught sight of my father and Aunt Christy walking in the direction of our hen house. I took Christian’s hand and led him out the same sliders he’d just walked through. I took him down the deck steps, the opposite direction of the hens.

"You're darn right you have something to tell me,” I huffed as I angrily pulled him toward the woods.