Her father jerked back as if he’d been punched. “Now listen—”
“We should draft a law,” Galen said. “Make it a crime for a child to ask for clothes.”
As Sally struggled against dark memories and self-reproach, his words took a while to sink in. She stared at him. “What?”
Vance huffed a laugh. “Won’t work, pard. I have sisters, cousins, nieces, and nephews, and they’ve asked for new clothes about every other day from preschool through college. Although one nephew didn’t—he wanted video games.”
Galen’s brows drew together. “That’s even worse.”
Sally closed her mouth as the Doms’ cold logic broke through. The shadows around her lightened as she remembered the essay she’d written for Galen. As she saw her father’s actions through the men’s critical eyes.
Seriously? Treat a child like a criminal for wanting a dress? She thought of her friends’ children, how they’d ask for things—and beg if they didn’t get the answer they wanted. They were normal kids.
“Oh dear.” Leigh Anne widened her eyes. “I’m afraid Emma and Dylan will be the first to be arrested.”
Sally saw Tate struggling with laughter.
After a quick glance at his stepfather, Dylan snickered and played along. “Oh no, Mom. Not
“Can I have new doll clothes, Mommy?” Giggling, Emma bounced in her chair. “I have to go to jail too. Like Dylan?”
Turning a furious dark red, Sally’s father slammed his fist down on the table, making the dishes rattle and the children jump. “That’s enough! It’s no joking matter that the brat got her mother killed.”
Galen rose and leaned forward, his hands flat on the table. “A car accident is a tragedy. Blaming a child for behaving like a child is criminal. Personally, I’d call it abuse, and if anyone here deserves to go to jail, it is you.”
“You can’t say that to me!”
“He shouldn’t.” Sally stood, seeing her father clearly for the first time. Anger swelled inside her. If he’d treated Emma the way he had her, she’d have removed the child from his care.
When she put her hand on Galen’s shoulder, he studied her for a second and conceded by taking his seat. Vance’s hand warmed her lower back; he’d defend her if she faltered.
Her father blustered, “That’s more like—”
“He shouldn’t, because I should have, years ago.” Her lips felt numb, her hands chilled. But…she was ready. “I let you verbally abuse me, shut me in an unlighted barn. You locked me in my room for three days just for crying over a cat that died.”
And Tate had left food in the tree house for her that time. She’d forgotten that. “You made me feel as if I caused the car accident, like I was a monster.” Guilt wavered in front of her like a black curtain, but she ripped it down. The air felt fresh as she pulled in a breath. “But I was just a normal child. Mom was a normal mother. The car skidded in a bad place. The only monstrous behavior…was yours.
“I didn’t—” He pointed to her, face twisted in hate.
He wouldn’t change. The sorrow of that filled her chest, but she knew what she needed to do. Her voice was firm. “I won’t speak to you again. I no longer consider you my father.”
His mouth worked, but under her unwavering stare, his gaze fell.
Sally took a stiff step back. Vance squeezed her side and took his hand away, leaving her free to chart her course.
Her knees wobbled as she turned, but she lifted her head and walked steadily out the back door into the quiet night. Her chest hurt—her whole body hurt—but there were stars in the sky. She’d forgotten how beautiful they looked in Iowa.
GALEN FELT PUMPED up with pride in Sally, at how she’d said exactly what she needed to say. And he hurt for her, because he knew just what it had cost her. Which was why he wanted to plant a fist right in the bastard’s face.
He curled his fingers around his cane and knew if he spoke now, it would be too much.
“My turn,” Vance said under his breath. He rose and put his foot on the chair, resting his forearms on his thigh. “Mr. Hart. After hearing all this, I’m sorely inclined to see if I can’t talk Sally into a civil lawsuit. Although the statute of limitations would hinder the outcome, your reputation in this area would definitely suffer.”
Direct hit. The man’s color faded, leaving his tanned skin an ugly yellow. He rose and glared around the table as if expecting someone to leap to his defense. His stare came to rest on Tate. “You gonna let them talk to me like that?”
“Yes.” Face pale, Tate straightened his shoulders. “I didn’t hear anything that wasn’t true.”
With a growl, the old man stomped out. The front door slammed a minute later.
“Well.” Leigh Anne puffed out a breath. “That was rather a mess, wasn’t it?”
“He was really mean.” Emma looked as if she wanted to cry, and Galen felt a pang of regret that she’d witnessed the altercation. “Is Sally okay?”
“I think she’ll be fine.” Leigh Anne pulled her daughter into her lap and looked down the table at her husband. “I think we all will now.”
Galen followed her gaze.
Tate looked shell-shocked. After a second, he attempted a smile. “Emma, Dylan, if you two get ready for bed, maybe Sally will come up and say good night before she leaves.”
Emma’s face cleared. She slid off her mother’s lap and trotted toward the stairs. “I’m going to show her my dolphin and my octopus. She’ll like them.”
Dylan followed only a step behind. “She’ll like my books better. Bet she likes to read.”
Thank God, children were resilient. Galen turned to look at Leigh Anne. “I’m sorry your children were subjected to that. We should have taken it elsewhere.”
Leigh Anne shook her head. “Although he never treated them the way he treated Sally, they sure heard enough about what he thought. Tonight was ugly, yes, but I’m glad they saw him receive his comeuppance.”
“Me too,” Tate said under his breath.
When Leigh Anne rose, the men did also. She nodded at Galen and Vance. “I’m going to check on the children, and I know you want to be with Sally. Go on, now.”
“Thank you,” Vance said. “You’ve been a generous hostess.”
As Galen moved toward the back door, he heard Leigh Anne say, “Honey, this is a good time.”
“I hope so,” Tate answered. “I’ll clean up the dishes a mite and have that talk.”
Galen paused in the door. What talk would that be? He considered going back inside, then saw Sally.
She was sitting on the wide back steps, head against a railing slat, watching the stars. She gave him and Vance a weak smile. “Sorry for leaving you. I kind of wanted to have the last word.”
“Worked a treat,” Vance said. He gave her a quick kiss.
Using the railing to assist, Galen sat down behind her and a step above. Legs apart, he pulled her closer so she could use his stomach as a backrest.
She was trembling.
“You’re cold,” he said. Probably also suffering from postfight adrenaline.
Before she could answer, Vance dropped onto the step below her. Leaning against the railing, he slid his legs along the step so her thighs would rest on his. After curling his hands over her knees, he smiled at her. “Just consider us portable heaters.”
“You two.” She sighed and pulled Vance’s hand onto her lap.
In the distance, an owl hooted. The corn rustled in the breeze that was scented with freshly cut grass. Peaceful area. When Sally leaned her head back against him, Galen felt the evening’s turmoil drain away, replaced by contentment. His partner, his woman. Both safe.
He wrapped his arms around her. Later, they’d discuss what had happened and do some digging into the parts their little submissive had revealed tonight, but right now, she needed a break.
And that she’d accept comfort from him, that she’d really forgiven him, was more than he’d expected…and exactly what he needed.
