Page 73 of Come Back to Me

But the fact I brought her here is telling. If she reads between the lines.

God, I’m just trying to feed her fucking clues at this point.

“So, it wasn’t all fine dining and a hockey team of housekeepers?”

“No.” I snort. “Mum comes from a working-class background. She and Dad had entirely different methods of parenting, and neither was functional because they constantly clashed.”

“I don’t agree. Something worked.”

Though there’s a compliment in there, I don’t accept it. “Anything decent in me comes from my uncle. And Mrs. Abelman. But we can thank Mum that I’m potty trained.”

She snickers. “I, for one, am very grateful for that.”

My smile widens. “I don’t mean to give Mum shit. I...”

“She was a victim of domestic abuse,” she fills in for me. “Surviving was her priority, and keeping the focus off her children, I’d imagine?”

I drop the piece of chicken into the bucket. “Some days, he hurt her so bad she couldn’t get out of bed.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

This entire conversation is Colt’s goddamn fault. As well as his sanctuary. I mean, I get it. How couldn’t I? But our argument on the ride into Saskatoon brought to the surface a shit ton of memories that are best left forgotten.

The only reason I’m sharing it is because she’s my Calamity Jane.

“Remember I said that there’s a sanctuary on the ranch?”

“I remember. For?”

“Domestic violence survivors.”

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

“Colt’s savior complex at work,” I grate out.

“Hey, someone has to help. Why not a kid who knows how tough it can get?” she appeases, but it doesn’t work.

Annoyed, I wipe my greasy fingers on a paper napkin. “I don’t know how he kept it so on the down-low.”

“No.” She chews on a fry. “I’m surprised it’s such a secret. There’s not even a whisper of it in town.”

“He should have told me.”

She nods. “When you took the badge.”

“Precisely. I felt like strangling him earlier. Callan’s on red alert, not just because of Clyde and the rest, but because one of the survivors’ husbands is a nasty piece of work who’s making threats.” I crack my knuckles. “I’m going to be dealing with security from now on.”

“On behalf of Baby Cowboy, thank you for that.”

“Colt expects too much of him. He’s only eighteen.”

She clucks her tongue. “He’s a smartass. I can’t see him being willing to let go of any of his self-appointed tasks unless there was a reason for it.

“You being a soldier, as well as a cop, he’s relinquishing the task into safe hands. It makes sense. I’m not excusing Colt, you understand, because Callanisjust a kid, but as someone with more brains than sense, I get why he’d prefer the burden of responsibility rather than repenting if something went wrong.”

“That’s deep,” I muse.

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