“What’s that?”

“A mother.” The ache was back in her throat, guilt mingled with a bottomless grief. “I’ve been in Iris’s shoes. I know what it’s like to be a little girl and have that empty place in your life. That’s why I fell apart when Rhetta asked me to take her. Because I can’t give her that. I can’t be that.”

Wade’s hands closed over hers, warm, firm. “I don’t know a woman who could. Not under these circumstances.”

Christy-Lynn’s head lifted sharply. “It isn’t about that—about Honey or Stephen or any of that.”

“Then what is it about?”

“A promise I made a long time ago—to myself. I’ve always known I wasn’t cut out for the soccer mom thing. Mothers like mine make lousy role models, and then there’s the whole genetic crapshoot. Either way, I wasn’t risking it.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you were worried for nothing.”

“Maybe, but the statistics aren’t good. And I’m not wired to feel things the way other women do. It’s like I skipped that line at the factory.”

Wade stared at her openmouthed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because in my entire life I’ve never met anyone wired to feel things more deeply than you do, and I’m absolutely stunned that you don’t know that about yourself. I might buy that you’re afraid to feel things deeply, but you can’t help it. You’re one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. Maybe too caring, if there’s such a thing.”

“Now maybe,” Christy-Lynn said, her eyes sliding away. “But not always. Not with my mother. I did what I could. I made sure we ate and had clean clothes. But she got to where she couldn’t keep a job. She started taking money from work, picking up men and bringing them home. When they arrested her, something in me shut down. I was just . . . done. But she’s my mother. I should have toughed it out or at least gone back.”

Once again, Wade looked stunned. “How can you say that? You were a kid, for God’s sake. Living a kind of hell most of us can’t even imagine.”

“I was supposed to keep her from self-destructing, and I did for a while. Maybe if I had stayed—” She paused, briefly closing her eyes. “The judge said I could go back if she cleaned up. That’s why I stayed gone. Because going back seemed worse than anything that could happen to me on the streets. So I disappeared. I never called, never wrote, nothing. I did a search for her a few weeks ago. Before that, I didn’t know if she was alive or dead.”

Wade let out a long breath. “I’m starting to realize why you think it’s your job to fix everything. You’ve been carrying the world around on your shoulders since you were a kid, and you’re still doing it.”

Christy-Lynn hiked a shoulder. She didn’t know if it was true or not, but if it was, she had certainly failed in spectacular fashion. Despite all her legal and financial maneuvering, Iris’s future hadn’t been improved in any meaningful way. And to top it all off, she had just run out on Rhetta in a full-blown panic.

She lifted her eyes to Wade’s, suddenly exhausted. “What can I say? I’m a profound and irreversible mess.”

“You’re not a mess, profound or otherwise. You’re just overwhelmed and rightly so. It’s been a bit of a day. We can either find a hotel close by so you can get some sleep, or I can take you home. Your choice.”

“Home,” Christy-Lynn said without hesitation. “I want to go home.”

It was almost midnight when Wade finally pulled the Rover into the driveway. Christy-Lynn was almost too exhausted to get out and go into the house. She had tried to sleep on the way back, but every time she closed her eyes, Rhetta’s words would float into her head.

You need each other.

It wasn’t true. Iris needed a mother, someone who could mend a broken childhood. That wasn’t her. In fact, it was becoming clear that she was still in need of mending herself.

Wade grabbed her bag from the back seat then came around to open her door. She felt strangely detached from her body as she got out, as if she’d left a part of herself back in Riddlesville.

“You don’t need to walk me to the door,” she protested when Wade took her arm and steered her toward the porch. “I’m fine.”

“Hush.” He unlocked the door and let her overnight bag slide to the floor. “Why don’t you take a bath while I go scrape us up some dinner?”

Christy-Lynn checked her watch. “It’s almost midnight, and you drove the whole way back. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

“Maybe so, but as I recall the last time either of us ate was twelve hours ago. I’m not getting in my Jeep until you’ve been fed. Now go start the water, and let me do my job.”

“Your job? What job?”

He smiled. “Taking care of you.”

It was true. He’d been taking care of her all day. And long before that if she was honest. “Why do you do that?”

“Because you don’t. And someone should.”

There was a softness to his tone that unsettled her, a kindness that threatened to melt her into a puddle. It would be so easy to lean on him, to let him become a part of her life. But then what? How long before he realized he’d gotten involved with an emotional charity case and it all came apart? Because it would. Of course it would.