Her father shook his head. “What if he doesn’t remember me? I’m not sure. Meeting the boys is more important.” Lifting his mug, Riff sipped at the hot liquid.
Selena turned west toward the ranch, the sunrise now in her rearview mirror. There was a new day ahead of them. One that she never saw coming.
Her three nieces had fallen quiet in the back, but her boys chattered in the second row. Her father remained silent for the fifteen-minute ride out of town to the ranch. With each inch, Selena’s nerves pulled tighter. Xavier was alive. Her babies had their father. Just in time for Christmas. But to her he was a stranger.
Arriving at the house, Selena pulled up to the front porch. Before she cut the engine, Belle rushed out the door.
Glancing to the back of the Suburban, she spoke in a low voice. “I’ll take them out to play with the goats while y’all talk. I’ve been with him all morning. Damian stopped by, but he just left. We decided to wait and tell Elijah on the last day of their honeymoon. This is just so mind-blowing.”
Her words whizzed by like bullets as she got Finn out of his car seat.
Selena unbuckled Sawyer as Belle continued. “When you’re ready for them, just come on out and they can meet. We haven’t told him. He seems a bit overwhelmed. We all do, right?”
Belle bit her lip and wiped her eyes with her free hand, the other balancing Finn on her hip. With a big smile on her face she greeted the kids. “Good morning, gang! Everyone have a good night?”
The kids all greeted her with varying degrees of cheerfulness.
Her father moved around to Selena’s side. Oliver hung over his shoulder, giggling. Riff kissed her on the cheek. “I don’t think I’m ready to see blankness in his eyes if he doesn’t remember me. I’ll help with the boys for now.” He took Sawyer from her and tossed him over his other shoulder. He kissed her cheek. “I’ll give Belle time to tell the girls.”
With her father and Belle herding the kids to the barn, Selena headed toward the door. All the hurt and anger that was bubbling up needed to go away. She didn’t have time for a meltdown.
Xavier was back from the dead. He was here. He had been her best friend for so many years. Then they had pushed each other away. Maybe she did more of the shoving. Now she had no idea who he was or what he wanted from her.
A million emotions bombarded her. Simple, clear thought was impossible.
Breakfast smells swamped the house. Bacon, toast, cinnamon and coffee filled the air. Belle’s go-to when she was stressed was to feed people, so Selena wasn’t surprised to see the table piled with food.
Xavier sat with his back to her. His broad shoulders didn’t carry the muscles he’d left with three years ago. He’d always been solid and strong.
The healthy, well-muscled husband who had walked out her door for another adventure was gone. It was hard for her brain to recognize this man as the one she’d been told was dead.
When he’d left that last time, she thought her heart couldn’t be more broken. But then the news of his death had arrived, and she’d discovered what broken really meant.
Guilt made grieving harder. The only thing that had pulled her off the floor had been the three little wonders growing inside her at the time. Wonders who carried the pieces of her shattered heart.
He shifted and turned. Those once marvelous gray-green eyes that all the De La Rosas possessed were faded and flat.
Something wet hit her shirt and she looked down. Tears again? Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes and gave the solemn man at the breakfast table a smile.
Solemn. That was a word she would never have used for the Xavier who went to Colombia. He had been in continuous motion, a gleam in his brilliant eyes.
The gleam had disappeared a year before he left, but, too wrapped in her own insecurities, she hadn’t noticed the changes in him. They had been a mess. Her forehead knitted in a frown.
With a deep breath, she relaxed her face and gave him her best smile. Well, she tried, but a tight and forced one was the best she could manage for now.
He stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Morning, Selena.”
“Good morning.” So ordinary and normal. The giggles started, and she couldn’t stop.
Without a single word, he lifted one eyebrow, silently asking what her problem was.
Every time she tried to speak, the uncontrollable giggles started again. Xavier stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Which was a good possibility. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” And there it went again. “When I’m nervous I…”
He nodded like he understood, but the doubt in his eyes told her he didn’t know her the way he used to. With his right hand, he made a gesture to the table. “Belle’s made a variety of breakfast foods.”
He was polite enough to ignore the ridiculous giggling. “Plus, there’s a platter full of what she assures me are my favorites. She and Damian already ate, and there’s still enough to feed an army.”
She nodded. “My father is here to see you. Do you remember him?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so but seeing him might help. Sorry.”
How many wonderful memories were gone?
“So, Damian came down from his hideout to talk with you?” she asked him. “Did seeing him help with the memories?”
His expression shut down. “Some, but not like I hoped.”
Remember me. Please. Oh, no. The tears were starting again.
Concern colored his every word. “I’m sorry. I want to help you, but I don’t know how.”
That was the same problem they had before he left. “No, I’m good. I should be the one offering help to you.” She straightened her spine. “No more crying or irrational giggling.”
Doubt furrowed his brow.
“I’m okay. I promise,” she assured him.
Under his steady gaze, she repeated the words. “I promise.”
Now less than ten feet apart, they stared at each other, neither talking. Last night had seemed like a dream, but today, even with all the blinds covering the large kitchen window, she could see him as if he were illuminated. The gauntness, the lines and the scars testified to the hardships he’d endured since he’d walked out her door.
She took a step closer. Should she just blurt out that he had three sons? No. “Are you feeling better this morning?”
With a stiff smile, he nodded. She didn’t believe him.
All night she had thought about him being alone, hungry and cold during those years, not knowing if anyone was coming for him. “You were the only one to survive the attack?”
“I’m the only one they took from our caravan, as far as I know. I have zero recall for the actual event or anything leading up to it.” He fidgeted with his hands, then shifted his weight and gripped the back of the chair. “Can we sit down?”
“Oh, yes.” She went around him to the opposite side of the farm table and sat in a chair. “Sorry. You must be exhausted. You said your sight was damaged. Does it affect your balance?”
Again, a simple nod. His gaze traveled the room, covering every area but where she sat. During the early years, talking had been so easy for them. Then the miscarriage created a shift in their relationship, and each negative pregnancy test had driven them farther apart. Looking back, she knew she had been as much to blame as he was.
Avoiding