They ate quietly, the food so delicious she realized how truly famished she was. Her finger brushed his when they both reached for a piece of bread. Glenna’s cheeks flooded with heat, but she hoped the firelight disguised the betrayal of her feelings.
Zeroing in on the sight of the mountain and elk emblem on the Steele logo, she realized she felt strangely comfortable here. Glenna felt the weight of his gaze on her, and looked up.
He tipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing quizzically. “What happened to you?”
Such a loaded question.
“Care to be more specific?” She took a slow sip of her beer, enjoying the hoppy flavor.
“You used to be so…open.” He set aside his half-eaten piece of bread and leaned forward.
“You mean back when I was naive? Before I married a man who cheated on me?” The darkness in her tone came as a defense to the pain she’d experienced.
Broderick shook his head, eyes shifting to hers. “No, I don’t mean that. Not at all. In college, you were funny and you smiled. God, you smiled in a way that slayed me.”
“I haven’t lost my sense of humor. I smile, and I help others. Maybe you’re the one who’s changed,” she volleyed back. And damn it all, she’d lost her husband barely a year ago.
She’d only just started to venture into the dating world and she hadn’t slept with anyone. She couldn’t deny, though, that she craved companionship. She’d missed these sorts of meals and conversations with a man, sharing daily life. And she didn’t know how to reconcile that with her fear of investing in another relationship.
“Oh, there’s no question that I’ve changed,” he admitted. “But we’re talking about you. I know you’re funny and I see your smile, but it’s so dark.”
Playing with her spoon, stirring it through the stew, she shrugged to keep her eyes from lingering on his bold jaw. Yet dropping her gaze only brought into view his strong hand holding the mug of beer.
She cleared her throat. “It’s called seeing the world.” Of course she wasn’t doe-eyed anymore. Reality had forced her to adapt her fairy-tale dreams.
“Not everyone lets the world make them into a cynic. I know you’ve been hurt, but—”
“But nothing. I don’t think you’re one to offer advice on getting over loss.” Her head tilted toward the baby’s room. Pushing out her chair, she stood, attentive and determined. “I think I heard Fleur again.”
Thankfully.
* * *
He would have thought she was lying about the baby needing her. And perhaps that had been her original intent in shooting up from the table to get away from his attempt at a more serious conversation.
But now the baby’s screams were piercing, so much so even Kota was running in circles, agitated and fretting.
They’d both dashed to Glenna’s room, where the portable crib had been set up. Broderick’s heart hammered at the distress—hell, ear-popping misery—in Fleur’s cries. He scooped her from the crib, pulled her close, but the cries didn’t stop.
Working as a team, wordlessly he and Glenna channeled through the obvious. They changed her diaper. Tried to feed her, but Fleur rejected the bottle and it wasn’t really feeding time, anyway. They burped her again and again in case it was gas. They took her temperature. Played music. Kept quiet. Gave her a bath.
And now nothing worked except pacing the floor.
He held the baby to his shoulder and patted her back like he’d seen the child care workers do at the on-site center. But damn it all, it wasn’t working. “I think I’m doing something wrong.” His forehead creased, anxiety flooding back into him.
“You’re doing fine.” Glenna shook her head, offering an encouraging smile.
“Maybe I’m patting too hard.” What if he was hurting her? He would never be able to live with himself if that was the case.
“You’re probably not patting hard enough. She’s not a butterfly.”
Her lashes sure felt like butterflies against his cheek. Damp butterflies as big fat tears rolled down her face. God, she was breaking his heart and driving him batty at all once.
Glenna walked out of the room, motioning him to follow. “I’m no baby expert, not by a long shot, so let’s see if we can figure this out. You keep holding her and I’ll run an internet search. Somewhere on some forum there is an answer for this.” She opened the laptop and began typing.
How had his parents survived this? Before the internet? Especially with so many kids, even a set of twins?
The thought of Breanna blindsided him.
He swallowed hard and yanked his thoughts back to the present. To this baby. This moment. And how he could get this kid calmed down and go outside to deal with the memory of losing his younger sister, Naomi’s twin. “Have you found anything out on that internet search of yours? Because if you’ve run out of ideas, I’ll look around for a while.”