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with Bob, she’d never experienced this kind of passion; this kind of bliss. Waking in Brad’s arms as he slowly entered her, was a passion far more vivid, more potent. She’d swear she’d died and gone to heaven, or someplace close. Even the shower they’d shared after the sun came up had been filled with such creative passion. Emily rinsed out her mug and wandered to the front window. She sighed, wishing for Brad to return. But he left after kissing her long and thoughtfully, without promises or frilly words—nothing. He had a dragon to slay; a conflict to end. Afterward, he’d return and be her everything.
Chapter Thirty-Three

For the first time, in what felt like forever, Brad felt the oppressive weight lift off. Watching Emily come apart beneath him, her shy glances and her tender touch, was the purest, simplest form of love. He shook his head. Five years ago, he’d never have given her a second look. But, right now, he wanted to get down on his knees and thank whoever had steered her his way. Emily was a complicated, wise and powerful soul, and Brad knew the short, feisty, brown-haired beauty would fight heaven and earth for what was right. The opposite of the shallow flashy women toward whom he’d always gravitated.

Brad turned down his long dirt driveway, and felt the heaviness drop back down on him like a sack of potatoes. How could he hate a place he loved so much?

He swallowed hard as he remembered what a callow, stupid ass he was. He created this mess because of who he was. He loved that superficial lust with Crystal, she looked good hanging off his arm and that’s all he ever wanted, anything deeper would have sent him running for the hills. Crystal simply was who she was. It was his fault for pursuing her.

Brad scratched his head and glanced at Trevor as he remembered Crystal’s horror the day she found out she was pregnant. Brad had laughed and brushed it off to simple hysterics, that she was scared of being a mother…and convinced himself she’d get used to it. Only as he’d allowed himself to face the truth did he realize that it was more than that; Crystal never wanted children, because she was still very much a child.

She couldn’t care for someone who depended on her. She wasn’t that strong, or maybe she was just too selfish. Reflecting and admitting the truth was a bitter pill to swallow; he cared for her then—a one-sided deal.

Crystal looked after the surface stuff, spending his money, redecorating the house, and enjoying a lifestyle to which she actually believed herself entitled.

An only child, she was doted upon by her mother and father who were by no means wealthy, but they’d given her anything and everything she’d ever wanted. There were no teachings of the value of money, commitment, moderation, and responsibility. But then, Brad hadn’t listened either.

His daddy was a good man. He’d pulled him aside weeks before the wedding, reminding him that this was his choice and his alone to live with. That he would never say another word, but he expected him to listen now. Girls like Crystal were fun to play with. She was shallow and not the marrying kind; she’ll never be devoted to you or any kids you want. Brad had been furious and lashed out at his father. He’d told him he was just jealous he’d found someone this dazzling. His father nearly hit him. Brad winced now as he squeezed the steering wheel in his truck. He was ashamed; he wished his father had decked him. He'd deserved it. Brad hadn’t spoken to his father since then, his mom occasionally…but he never told her what was going on.

As the oldest, the ranch passed to Brad. His father and younger brother bought 10,000 acres down on the Yucatan Peninsula—their idea of a small ranch.

He visited his mother once, with Crystal, right after Trevor was born. His father was then in Panama; whether planned or coincidence, Brad didn’t know. Now he wished for his daddy’s advice, to make peace and bridge the gulf widening with each day’s passing.

When he and Crystal married, he looked after her, handled everything. He paid the bills and was generous with providing her money and credit cards. She’d no concept of value, and continually exceeded her credit limit.

The first time he spoke with her, he’d been blunt. “I’m not an untapped well.”

She’d panicked and carried on in such a way anyone would have thought the world was coming to an end. He was astounded by what she spent on clothes alone. She never batted an eye at dropping a few thousand on a designer outfit. Shopping was her favorite past time, and he’d always given in, especially after she became pregnant.

So when did the blinders come off?

After she had Trevor, Brad truly believed she’d take one look at the infant and fall in love, just as he had. That she’d stay home and become a good wife and doting mother. He was sure the innate nurturing instinct, that existed in women from the beginning of time, would finally emerge. He just assumed it was natural.

But nothing went as planned. After she gave birth, she’d refused to hold the baby. He’d watched painfully as she seemed to go into a depressive slump, more concerned with how she looked and what giving birth and the pregnancy had done to her precious body.

Brad had made excuses for her behavior. It was the ordeal of giving birth, she was tired…she’d eventually come around. But the nurses had known better. He’d ignored their knowing looks, especially after her outright refusal to breast-feed when the nurse had encouraged her to try and get him latched on. The nurse had tried to explain the importance of a mother’s milk. She’d screamed back that she didn’t want her breasts to get saggy.

Brad didn’t worry too much as many mothers chose to bottle-feed. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.

But things escalated after they were home. She’d wanted a nanny for Trevor. Brad had put his foot down and refused. He lost his temper. “As Trevor’s mother, I expect you look after him.” Crystal had screamed like a two-year-old and called her mother. Of course, the next thing Brad knew, his mother-in-law had moved in and was looking after the baby. Betty had a heart condition. After weeks of looking after the baby and Crystal, dark circles appeared under her eyes. Brad sat her down. “What the hell are you doing, Betty?”

She cried and hung her head. “I’m so sorry, Brad; me and Crystal’s daddy are to blame. We loved her so much, and we struggled when we were growing up; we didn’t want her to have to do without. Not like we did. I’m so sorry, Brad; we never taught her responsibility or how to make her own way. We made everything easy for her.”

Brad felt horrible for the woman’s pain, but he didn’t make it easier. “She expects everything to be handed to her, for you to wait hand and foot on her. You have to stop. You’re not helping the situation. She’ll never grow up.”

Betty had stiffened her lip. “She’s my daughter and I love her. And I love that Grandbaby. I can’t stop.” And she hadn’t; she doted all her love on Trevor until, a few months later, she’d suffered a stroke in her sleep one night, and passed away in the hospital a few days later. It had nearly destroyed Crystal.

Crystal had been like a lost child, turning to Brad, not knowing what to do. Her father had died ten years earlier. Brad remained hopeful that she’d finally become a mother to Trevor. Instead, what had happened rocked his world. She’d packed her bags and slipped out of the house a week later, leaving Trevor alone. Mary Haske had arrived to clean just before lunchtime and heard the pitiful wail of a crying baby. Brad had, foolishly, left him with Crystal and headed to the North field.

Mary had searched the house, looking for Crystal. When Brad drove the tractor in to have lunch, he’d found a ruffled Mary, irate and panicked, holding Trevor in her arms.

Mary’s eyes had been damp and red-rimmed, and Brad’s heart dropped like lead into his stomach when he heard those gut-wrenching words. She’d found Trevor alone, crying in his crib, no one there to hear him. Mary had been furious, and demanded to know where Crystal was. His blood ran cold. At first he’d thought she was hurt somewhere, as he hurried into the house to search. Instead, he’d felt the center drop out of him when he’d raced into the bedroom and pulled open the closet, only to discover her clothes, makeup, jewelry—everything was gone. The fury that had stolen over him, that she could have left Trevor alone, had made him physically shake with fear. What if Mary hadn’t come? He’d collapsed to the floor right in front of Mary. Then, when it sunk in, he’d put his fist through the wall and bloodied his knuckles. That physical pain was welcome. The other was not. The tears had stung the back of his eyes as he’d held his boy tight, for a long time, before leaving him in the care of Mary Haske.

Brad had spent a week tracking Crystal down. It was through his credit cards that he’d been able to find her, in Hawaii, and that nightmare episode had ensued.

He still remembered the humiliation he’d felt when he left without her. Crystal had stayed away. The weeks turned into months. He’d kept track of where she was. She only phoned when she’d needed money, and never once had she asked about Trevor.

Now, after all this time, she’d come home—to suddenly be Trevor’s mother? He knew it wasn’t true. She could barely stand being in the same room with him. And if by chance she was; she always found a reason to leave. Brad would never be that careless again. He saw it in her eyes; she worried

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