“That doesn’t stop me wanting to help. I’m her mother.” She caught his eye. “I am her mother.”
“I know. And if you want my opinion, she’s damn lucky to have you.”
Lucky? There had been nothing lucky about the girls’ early life. At the beginning Suzanne had been terrified that Hannah’s life would be ruined by the events of her childhood, but then she’d realized she had a responsibility not to let that happen.
She’d done everything she could to compensate and influence the future. She wanted nothing but good for her daughters and the burden of it was huge. It weighed her down, and there were days when it almost crushed her. And she’d made him carry the burden, too.
Survivor’s guilt.
“I worry I haven’t done enough. Or that I haven’t done it right.”
“I’m sure every parent thinks that from time to time.”
Suzanne slid her legs out of bed, relieved to be able to stand up. Walk. Breathe. Watch the sun rise. She rolled her shoulders and discovered they ached. She’d turned fifty-eight the summer before and right now she felt every one of those years. Was the pain real or a memory? “The dream was bad. I was back there.”
Suffocating in an airless, snowy tomb.
Stewart stood up, too. “It will fade.” He reached for his robe. “I’m not going to ask if you want to talk about it, because you never do.”
And this time was no different.
She couldn’t stop the nightmares, but she could prevent the darkness from creeping into her waking hours. It was her way of taking back control. “You should go back to sleep.”
“We both know there’s no going back to sleep after you have one of your dreams. And we have to be up in an hour anyway.” His hair was standing on end and his eyes were rimmed with fatigue. “We have a group of twenty arriving at the Adventure Centre this morning. It’s going to be busy. I might as well make an early start.”
“Are they experienced?”
“No. School party on an outdoor adventure week.”
Anxiety washed over her. Her instinct was to beg him not to go, but that would have meant giving in to fear. It also would have meant asking Stewart to give up doing something he loved and she wouldn’t do that. “Be careful.”
“I always am.” Stewart kissed her and walked to the door. “Coffee?”
“Please.” The thought of staying in bed held no appeal. “I’ll take a quick shower and then start planning.”
“Planning what?”
“Only a man would ask that. You think Christmas happens by itself?” She belted her robe, knowing from experience that activity was the best way to drive the shadows from her head. “It’s only a few weeks away. I want to do all the preparation beforehand so I can spend as much time as possible with our grandchildren. I thought I’d buy a few extra games in case the weather is bad. I don’t want them to be bored. They have so much to do in Manhattan.”
“If they’re bored, they can help with the animals. They can feed the chickens with Posy, or round up the sheep. They can ride Socks.”
Socks was Posy’s pony. Now eighteen, he was enjoying a well-earned, hay-filled retirement in the fields that surrounded the lodge.
“Beth gets nervous when they ride.”
Stewart shook his head. “A lot of things make Beth nervous. She is overprotective, we both know that. Kids don’t break that easily.”
“As if you weren’t the most protective father ever. Particularly with her.”
He gave a sheepish grin. “Posy was like a little ball. She bounced. Beth was a delicate little thing.”
“She’s always been a daddy’s girl. And if she is an overprotective mother, then we both know why.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t understand, but you’ve got to let kids have some fun. Explore. Make mistakes. Live life.”
“Easier said than done.” Suzanne knew she was overprotective, too. “I’ll talk to Beth. Try to persuade her to let the girls ride. And if the weather is bad, they can help in the kitchen. We can do some baking.”
“Here’s a radical idea...” Stewart picked up his empty whiskey glass from the night before. “Instead of planning everything and driving yourself crazy with stress, why don’t you keep it relaxed this year? Stop trying so hard.”