“She’s been through a lot, Rafe, and if I have my way she’s going to be a valued member of this community for a long time. So it would mean a lot to me if we can treat her with as much respect as possible.”
“Hey, my wife and I were rooting for the Nebraska Nice Girl the whole time.” He looked up from his legal pad. “And yes, I recognized her. If someone was trying to hurt her tonight, we will prosecute to the full extent of the law.”
The statement moved quickly after that. Damien tried to stick to the facts, though he got distracted a few times and glanced over at Miranda to be sure she was holding together. But she looked good. The officer who interviewed her appeared to take her seriously, writing copious notes as she spoke.
When Damien finished his interview, he walked Joelle back into the hotel and wished her a good night. By the time he returned to the parking lot, the officers were finishing up with Miranda. Once they left, Damien pointed toward his truck.
“It’s warm in the cab. Do you mind if we talk in there, or would you rather go somewhere else?”
He didn’t know if it was such a good idea to spend another second in the parking lot where Rick had grabbed her and threatened her, but Damien figured he’d let her make the call.
“That would be great, actually.” She hugged herself. “I’m freezing.”
He wasted no time opening the passenger door and helping her inside. When he’d settled into the driver’s seat he reached behind him for a wool blanket and tucked it around her. It took superhuman effort not to wrap her in his arms, too. But he wanted to do this right. Couldn’t allow himself to get lost in the taste of her to try and bridge the distance between them. If they were going to fix this, they needed to do it now, before she disappeared for good.
“Thank you,” she blurted, before he could think where to start. “I don’t know how you guessed where to find me, but thank God you did.”
“I only wish I’d gotten here sooner—”
“I should have listened to you.” She shook her head, gesturing with her sticker-covered fingernails. “It made sense to spend the night and come up with a better plan, but I didn’t want to risk my heart another second, and I thought I’d better leave while I still could, and it was just...foolish.”
He tried not to overthink the part about “risking her heart,” but that sounded potentially hopeful, and he tucked it in a corner of his mind.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly, either.” He wanted to drink in the sight of her—whole and unharmed—for a few hours at least, until he reassured himself she was really okay. Safe. “I should have asked how you wanted to handle the onslaught of reporters, instead of calling all the shots and hiding you away like I wish I could have done back when it was me being hounded by the media.”
“It was a good plan. I truly don’t like facing that kind of mob scene.” She took a tissue from a box between the two front seats and dabbed at her eyes.
“But I robbed you of the chance to meet them on your own terms. And maybe I could have spared you the encounter with Rick, too.” That’s what stung most. “If we’d stuck together—”
“Bottom line, I didn’t want to draw more unwanted attention to Fraser Farm, and you helped me find a way to prevent that from happening, so I have no right to complain.”
“You don’t understand. I regret the way things happened because I don’t care anymore about what effect your presence has on my business. I care about you more than I care about the public perception of the place.”
She reached up to the ceiling and clicked on the overhead light. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness and to her scrutiny.
“What are you saying?” She squinted blue eyes at him as if trying to get a clearer picture.
“Miranda, I’ve lived like a hermit ever since I took on Fraser Farm. That’s been by choice, because I don’t trust easily.”
“I can’t blame you, after the craziness of those early dating years.” She smoothed the fringe on the wool blanket he’d given her. “I haven’t been in the habit of letting anyone get too close, either. But then, you can see why, after meeting the power-tripping lunatic who was my first relationship.”
“Yet I wanted to reel you in and keep you close, starting that first day we met, and that’s never happened to me before.” The confession sounded rough. Felt rough, too. But he wanted her to stay, and not even a damned farm-stand sale was going to make it happen. If it took putting his heart on the line, he had every intention of doing just that. “When you looked at me and we shared that moment when Stretch first stood?” Damien smiled, remembering. “I knew then. I’d never want to let you go.”