“What, Tory?”
Through the sheen of tears she stared at him. In her mind she knew she should tell him what happened, but in her heart she couldn’t find the words. She couldn’t bear it if he—
“In God’s eyes we are partners. What affects you affects me.”
Sniffing, she brushed at her tears. “I know. I just have a difficult time talking about it.”
“Did someone hurt you?”
In the depth of his eyes she saw compassion, understanding, and the dam on her memories broke. “I was raped four years ago. I was beaten up and put in the hospital by someone I knew and dated for a month. I never saw it coming until it was too late.” She hunched forward, trying to draw in on herself, wishing she could make herself invisible.
“Where is he now?”
The steel thread in his voice caused her to look up at him. A nerve in his jaw twitched; his pupils were pinpoints. “In prison.”
“Good. You pressed charges?”
She nodded, the pain and humiliation of the trial inundating her all over again. By the time it had been over she’d felt as if she’d been raped a second time but this time in public. After that she’d fled to Oklahoma and had never gone back to Dallas.
“Tory, you did nothing wrong.”
“I went out with him. I thought I liked him. How could I have been so wrong?”
“Some people are quite good at putting up a front for others.”
“Don’t you understand? This makes me doubt my judgment about people.”
“I know. But you must trust me on some level or you wouldn’t have told me. That’s a start.”
“Is it? I don’t know anymore. I’m so tired. I thought the nightmares were over. I hadn’t had one in a long time.”
“Until we had to share a bed?”
“Yes.”
“I will never do anything you don’t want me to.”
“He kept telling me that I wanted it.” The tears returned to blur her vision. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to control her reeling emotions. She’d shed too many tears over that man, lost so much time because of the emotional scars his assault left on her.
“I almost have dinner ready. I was about to stir the soup when I heard you scream.” He picked up his Palm Pilot. “I’m going to gather my things and move them back to the other bedroom now.” When his arms were full of his clothing, he started for the door, saying, “I’ll put these up and get the rest later. Why don’t you come on into the kitchen and eat something?”
Tory drew in a deep breath. “What temperature did you put the soup on?”
“That burnt smell is from the toast for the sandwiches. The toaster was on too high and the first batch came out a little charred.”
“I don’t think that’s it.” She lumbered to her feet. “You put your clothing up while I check the soup.”
Hot soup actually sounded good right now, she thought, walking toward the kitchen. The coldness was still embedded in her bones, and she hoped the soup would warm her up some. When she entered the room, her gaze went immediately to the stove where the contents of the pan were boiling all over the range top. Wisps of smoke drifted upward. She hurried across the kitchen and switched the burner off, shaking her head at the high setting Slade had put the soup on.
“Is the soup ruined?”
She spun about at the sound of his husky voice. “Yes.”
“I knew you would be hungry. I thought high would get the soup done faster.”
“There’s some logic in that thinking, and it would have worked if you had been standing over the pan, watching it.”
“And I would have, but I got sidetracked by a beautiful, caring lady.”
The heat from a blush seared her cheeks. She busied herself by taking the pan to the sink and filling it with warm water. Then she used a sponge to wipe off as much of the burnt soup from the top of the stove as possible, considering the burner was still hot.
“I do appreciate you coming to my rescue.” She sat at the table where the sandwiches were. She picked up the ham and cheese. “I thought you were toasting the bread.”
“I decided against it and went with plain bread.” He slipped into the chair across from her as though he knew instinctively to keep his distance still.
“I’m gonna really have to give you some cooking lessons.”
“That’s okay. There are some things better left to the experts.”
“It’s not difficult.”
“And I believe you, but—” He shrugged as though that gesture said it all.
“But you’d rather not learn.”
“I just feel there are some things in life better off a mystery. Cooking is one of those things for me.”
Tory laughed. “You’re hopeless.”
“I like that.”
“That you’re hopeless?”
“No, your laugh.”
For a long moment her attention was totally focused on him to the exclusion of everything else. He was the one who made her laugh. He was the one who had given her a chance at a family. She owed him and wasn’t sure how in the world to pay him back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Slade leaned against the railing of the deck, sipping his coffee. The hot summer air was still bearable at seven in the morning. The quiet would soon be disturbed by the sound of a bulldozer preparing the ground for the new indoor riding ring. But for the time being all Slade heard was an occasional bird, and he relished the silence.
Peace. He’d first moved out to the ranch because it had made sense because of Tory’s work with the riding stable. Now he couldn’t think of any other place he’d rather live. The sounds in the country were nature’s sounds. And the best part was he only had to go twenty minutes to town. Not a long commute, and well worth it since Mindy loved living here.
A month had passed since Tory had told him about her past—a month in which he’d tried to court
