Page 91 of A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

Shane shook his head, still staring at those fists, and how was this the way things were happening? They were supposed to be happy. They were supposed toleanon each other through hard things, not splinter apart.

“Micah told me his father used to hurt both of you, you most of all, repeatedly.” Again, Shane’s gaze slowly locked to hers. “I wanted to believe it wasn’t true or was some kind of exaggeration, but it isn’t, is it?”

It was her turn to look away. “Why do you want to believe all that? Is it really so awful that it changes how you feel about me?”

“Nothing changes the way I feel about you, Cora,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “I told you that. This isn’t about what happened. It isn’t about what you’ve survived. It’s about the fact you didn’t tell me.”

Survived. She hated that word. She hadn’tsurvived. She’d been weak and stupid and had put her family through hell.

“Why would Micah . . .” She couldn’t wrap her mind around all of this. That it was happening, thatMicahhad told Shane. When he’d . . . he’d been so adamant they not tell, but he’d told Shane anyway?

“Why would Micah tell me? Because it was the truth. And maybe someone thought I deserved it.”

But it didn’t make sense. It didn’t . . . “When?”

“On the way to the game.”

Cora tried to work through it all. So, not that long ago, but . . . Oh God, everything that had happened after the game.I love you,and him saying those things about...

Fury shot through her, and she grabbed onto it. Anger and blame was so much better than fear and shame.

“Oh, I see, so that’s why you told me about your father? A little manipulative tit for tat. Is that why you said you loved me too?”

“No, it is not.”

“Sure.” Why should she believe that? He felt sorry for her. Wanted to protect her from things. Why wouldn’t he just decide he loved her so he could bundle her up like he tried to do with everyone else? She crossed her arms over her chest, breathing not even, everything inside of herhurting.

“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” Shane returned, and everything about his voice was a vibrating fury she’d never seen from him, even when dealing with Boone. “I told you everything. Everything I’d never told anyone. Do you know what it’s like to have a twelve-year-old upend everything?”

She looked at him dolefully. “Kinda regularly, Shane.”

He sat there, breathing hard, but he was so strong. So much better than her. He fused that crack in his control back together right before her eyes. “Now is not the time to fight,” he said, calm and sure and so in charge.

She hated it. “Oh, isn’t it? When would be the time? Would you like to schedule it?” She pretended to check her phone. “I have time on the fifteenth.”

“Guys—”

“Why are you mad atme?” Shane demanded. “I have done everything right.”

“Yes, you’re always right, and everyone else is to blame when something goes wrong, and, well, it must be nice, Shane. To never make a mistake. To be able to blame accidents on your brother and—”

“Guys,” Molly repeated more firmly. “People are looking.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Cora snapped. “Why don’t you all take a good, long look?” she asked of the curious faces in the waiting room staring in their direction.

Shane abruptly got to his feet. “I love you, and I love your kid, so I’m going to step outside and not spew my anger all over you, because I’m not a worthless piece of shit like the man who did all of that to you.”

That shut her up, because . . . He just . . . Why were they fighting? How had this gotten so damn twisted?

Because he knows, and now you’re different to him. That’s how.

“Cora, oh, sweetheart.” Lilly slid into the chair next to her and grabbed her in a hug. “How’s Micah?”

Cora leaned into her sister, empty and spent, and how many times had that been the case? “He’s in surgery,” she managed to mumble. “Did they—”

“Deb said it was a broken arm.”

“Yeah, yeah. Where are the babies?”

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