“No. I’m worried about Sarah’s emotions,” I replied through my clenched teeth.

  I hated that Oakley always assumed the worst about me.

  “Belladonna belongs to Sarah. I brought her, assuming you’d want to take her with you. Sarah could use the comfort.”

  “Not something I expected,” I said slowly, trying to decide if she had an angle here that I was missing.

  Her dislike for me wasn’t one-sided. It was mutual. She’d made damn sure any feelings I had for her were slaughtered years ago. When I had divorced Sylvia, Oakley was one of the reasons I hadn’t been granted fifty-fifty custody. Her testimony in court had swayed the judge’s ruling. I was positive of it. Had I been able to have Sarah fifty percent of the time, then I would have seen what Sylvia was putting her through. That Sylvia was spiraling. And where the fuck had Oakley been when her stepsister wasn’t fit to raise my child?

  She took a long drink, then locked those baby-blue eyes on me. “Why?”

  Suddenly having someone here to unleash my anger on, I glared at her. “Oh, I don’t know, Oakley. Maybe the fact that you made sure Sarah only saw me every other fucking weekend and didn’t seem to think I needed to know that Sylvia was in a bad mental place. One that was creating an unsafe home for my daughter,” I snapped.

  She didn’t need more of an explanation than that. She knew what the fuck she’d done. How she had failed Sarah.

  “You now helping me move Sarah to live with me seems odd, considering.”

  Oakley took another drink from her can, never taking her eyes off me. Her eyes lit up with her own pent-up fury. I could see it there, shining as she held my glare. A low growl came from Belladonna. Oakley reached down and ran her hand over the dog’s back, whispering something that made the dog ease.

  “Make no mistake, this is about Sarah. You’re her father. She wants to live with you, and that’s where she belongs. As for the past, it’s done. I can’t go back and change it.”

  It was done. That was her excuse. It was the past, and her actions had harmed my daughter. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. If she thought her coming here to help with Cleo and bringing Belladonna were enough to fix it, she was wrong. So fucking wrong.

  “Where is Sarah?” Oakley asked, looking past me.

  I wanted to tell her to leave. We didn’t need her. Sarah had me, and she didn’t need anyone else. Especially someone from this family. But I knew sending her away would hurt Sarah. I had to find a way to balance Sarah’s love for Oakley and my hate for her. How the hell I was supposed to do that, I didn’t know. It had been years since I’d had to speak to Oakley. Now, I was Sarah’s only parent that would change.

  “In her room, packing,” I replied grudgingly.

  “What are you going to do with this place?” she asked me, as if she had a right to know.

  I had no answer for her, but even if I did, why should I tell her? It wasn’t her business. I had never signed the house over to Sylvia because I hadn’t trusted her. I wanted Oakley to have a home, a house, a yard, a fucking dog. Even if she couldn’t have two parents under one roof, I wanted to give her everything else I could. I paid all their bills, including the mortgage.

  “I don’t know. I guess sell it. My life isn’t here. I can’t move back here,” I replied, wishing those damn eyes of hers didn’t make me talk. Say shit I didn’t have to.

  Oakley placed the can down on the bar and stared out the window over the kitchen sink. “Not real sure her memories of this house, at least in the last few years, are some she wants to remember,” Oakley said solemnly. Then, she turned to meet my gaze. “Sell it. Move her to Florida, give her a fresh start. Help erase all … all the bad.”

  The bad that I should have been told about. The bad that she wouldn’t have lived through if she had been with me. My hands fisted at my sides.

  Belladonna let out another low growl.

  “It’s best you stop with the pent-up anger at me. If you want Belladonna to like you, that is,” Oakley said.

  I wasn’t going to be threatened by a dog that looked like an overgrown stuffed bear. Ignoring her warning, I scowled. “I didn’t know it had gotten bad. That Sylvia had stopped taking her meds. Sarah never told me anything. I can’t—” I paused and hissed at the ache in my chest. “I failed her.”

  I wanted to shout that she had failed her too. But I didn’t. For Sarah’s sake.

  For a brief moment, just a tiny fraction, there was a flicker of something other than indifference. As if she might care deep down or simply remember when she had. I missed the girl I had destroyed. She still haunted my dreams. The first time I had seen her, the first time she’d turned those blue eyes on me and smiled. I wasn’t sure I’d ever truly be able to let her go. At least not in my memories. The woman she had become, her actions, that person I would never love. I would tolerate her for my daughter.

  “We did everything we could to get Sylvia help. She chose not to take her medication. She chose not to go to the therapist. This was her choice. This wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. We didn’t tell you. Cleo was afraid you’d take Sarah from Sylvia if you knew. If you want to blame someone, blame us. You deserved to know. It was me who failed Sarah. I was the one who should have told you. Instead, I came to get Sarah and keep her with me, or I stayed here. But I couldn’t always be there for her. I have a job, and it interfered some. She … she should have been with you. I’m the one who has to live with that. Me. Not you.”

  I stood there, staring at the girl who had been my sole obsession years ago. I’d have done anything to have her, and I had. She was a light in my darkness. She’d given me fucking joy. Made me want to be a better man. Watching the anguish on her face while she blamed herself for all that Sarah had lived through took some of that hatred in my chest from me. It was hard to listen to her blame herself even if I had.

  The man I had been before Sylvia, the guy who had fallen in love with Oakley at first sight, wanted to go pull her into my arms and assure her that this shit was on me. Sarah was my daughter. I had known Sylvia battled with bipolar disorder, but I had thought that she was taking her medication and seeing her therapist. When I asked, she told me she was, and I believed her.

  Oakley had known, and she was right. She was to blame. Sarah had suffered, and Oakley could have stopped it. If she’d done something, then Sylvia might not have taken her own life. If she had told me, I could have come back and forced Sylvia to get help. But Oakley had done none of those things, and my daughter’s mother was dead.

  Two

  Oakley

  “Oaky!” Sarah’s voice squealed the only name she’d ever called me. “You brought Belladonna!”

  Thankful for her interruption and reminder of why I was here and what was important, I turned to my niece and opened my arms up for her to rush into. Belladonna barked happily, nudging between us for some attention. The sweet smell of Sarah’s favorite green apple shampoo met me as I wrapped my arms around her small body. Out of all the pain my stepsister had caused me, this child was worth every minute. I held her close to my chest and let her warmth ease the ache inside me.

  “Hey, Buttercup,” I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  There was a time when I’d wondered if I could ever look at her and not relive the pain of losing Wilder. Those worries were all before she was born. Before I held her for the first time. Any fear I had about my feelings toward this child had vanished the moment Sylvia placed her in my arms.

  She bent down and wrapped her arms around Belladonna’s neck.

  “I’m all packed up,” she said, tilting her head back and staring up at me. “We are gonna leave today.”

  There was so much uncertainty in those brown eyes of hers that looked just like her father’s. She needed me to tell her it would all be okay. I didn’t need words to understand what she was asking me.

  I leaned down and brushed back the blonde locks that had fallen free of her braid from her face. She had my hair color. Sylvia had been a brunette, like Wilder. I always teased her that she had gotten her blonde hair from me when that wasn’t at all possible.

  “You’re going to love Florida,” I assured her.

  She looked hopeful. “Will you come visit me and bring Belladonna?”

  My chest tightened. “I was assuming you’d want to take Belladonna with you. She’s yours after all. Y’all can come visit me. Whenever your dad needs someone to stay with you when he has to go out of town for work, he can call me. I can come there, or you can come here. You can’t get rid of me.”

  The relief in her eyes was followed by the glimmer of unshed tears. Sylvia hadn’t been the best mom, but she’d had her moments. She had been her mom. That was what mattered. Sarah had loved her mother, even when Sylvia had been at her worst.

  “I can take her with me?” she asked with a spark of hopefulness in her eyes.

  I glanced over at Wilder. “If your dad is okay with it.”

  His brows drew together. “Will Cleo allow that?” he asked.

  “Why would Cleo have a say in it? Belladonna is Sarah’s dog.”

  I could see the frustration in his eyes.

  “The dog lives with Cleo,” he replied tightly.

  “No, she doesn’t!” Sarah told him, not letting go of Belladonna’s neck. “Grandmother only kept her a week, and she hated having her there. Belladonna lives with Oaky.”

  Clearly, Wilder hadn’t been aware of that. Shouldn’t he know things like this about his daughter? Was he so wrapped up in his work and building his company that he’d missed something as important as this? Belladonna was Sarah’s best friend.

  “I see. Yes, of course Belladonna can come with us,” he replied.

  Sarah sniffled, and I dropped my gaze back to her. She was burying her face in Belladonna’s fur. I wasn’t sure if it was tears of sadness or joy. She’d been through a lot this week.

  I lowered myself to my knees as Sarah looked up at me. I cupped her face in my hands. “It’s okay to cry. You don’t have to hide that. Don’t try. Cry, Buttercup. Be sad. Be angry. Let it all out. Your dad will listen. He’ll understand. Call me if you want to. I’ll listen. I’ll be there in five hours if you need me. Just don’t try to do this alone. Promise me that,” I urged her.

  She nodded and sniffled as a tear rolled down her cheek. I brushed it aside with my thumb, then kissed where it had been.

  “You’re going to have happy days again. They’ll come. Just you wait. Belladonna will be right there, reminding you of things that make you happy. But remember, she’s a terrible bed buddy.”

  “I love you,” she whispered, and I pulled her to me, fighting my own tears.

  “I love you most,” I replied.

  The screen door slamming startled me, and I stiffened as I lifted my gaze to see Cleo striding into the house. Her determined gaze went from Sarah and me to Wilder. I could see the fire in her eyes, and I was glad I’d beaten her here. She would do more damage than had already been done with her behavior. Cleo was selfish. She was nothing like my mother had been. I never understood how my father had fallen in love with her after having loved someone as wonderful as my mom.

  “You see what you’re doing to her?” Cleo accused, glaring at Wilder. “She’s lost her mother, and you’re just snatching her up and taking off with her. This is her home!”

  “Cleo, don’t,” I warned, feeling Sarah’s body tense as we both stood up.

  She swung her gaze to me with that wild look in it. The one that reminded me of Sylvia. “What? You’re going to argue with that? Just look at my poor granddaughter. Clinging to you as a lifeline. You aren’t even her blood. You hated her mother!”

  “CLEO,” I said more firmly. “Don’t do this.”

  Belladonna started to growl.

  Cleo threw up her arms. “What would you have me do? Let him run off with my granddaughter? He left Sylvia when she needed him. Left her. And you of all people shouldn’t be taking his side. He used you. Messed your head up so bad that you’ve turned down three marriage proposals in the past nine years. You turned down a sinfully rich Shephard! Do not tell me that you are going to take his side now. He never loved you. He never wanted you. So, wake up, Oakley!”

  I had turned down five marriage proposals, but she would never know that.

  Sarah held me tighter and buried her face in my chest while Belladonna moved in front of us as if she felt the threat or attack. I ran my hand over her back, trying to calm her as she continued to make a low rumble in her chest. Belladonna had never hurt anyone, but I wasn’t so sure Cleo was safe.

  Addressing the past with my stepmother didn’t help anything. She loved reminding me that Wilder had chosen Sylvia over me. Even after the disaster their marriage had been, she gloated over the fact that Sylvia was the one he loved. She always relished the idea of hurting me. She had been doing it since I was ten years old and she had married my dad. The thought that I might be prettier, smarter, better than Sylvia in any way was something she never accepted. She also went out of her way to make sure I never believed it either.

  My insecurities ran deep. The two other adults in this room with me had cemented that. No amount of marriage proposals could fix the damage done. Sure, Sebastian Shephard had claimed he loved me and asked me to marry him, but he didn’t really know me. None of them did. I had never allowed another man close enough to know me. I kept the important part of my heart locked up tight. At least where men were concerned.

  The one man I had let know me hadn’t wanted me in the end. That held a power over me that nothing else could penetrate. Cleo and Sylvia had done their damage to my heart long before Wilder walked into my life. Even my dad had managed to not stand up for me. He had let me down too. It was a painful thing to know your own father hadn’t chosen you. Perhaps that was where the deterioration began. Regardless, my ability to trust was beyond flawed.

  “This is about what is best for Sarah. Please see that,” I begged, unable to even look at Wilder.

  Having Cleo drag up the past in front of him was humiliating. She’d only done it once before. Several Christmases ago, when Sylvia had gone off the rails again and Sarah called Wilder to come get her. When he showed up at my parents’ on Christmas Eve to pick up Sarah, Cleo had been furious. Sylvia said to let her go, and I stood by that decision. Which had led Cleo to accuse me of siding with him because I couldn’t get over him.

  “Sarah is a child who has lost her mother!” Cleo shouted. “She needs her home. Her family. She has to mourn.”

  Sarah released me then and stepped back as she looked at her grandmother. Then, she turned and hurried over to her father. I watched as she wrapped her arms around him, and he held her close to his side. Swinging my gaze to Cleo, I stood there, ready to do whatever interference was needed to get her out of this house. Belladonna looked torn as she swung her gaze from me to Sarah. She wanted to protect us both. I nodded my head at her, and she slowly went to Sarah, understanding what I was telling her.

  “I want to go with my dad!” Sarah shouted.

  “You’re upset. You belong here, Sarah! Your mother would want you here. With us. Your family. The ones who didn’t abandon you!”

  That was it. I couldn’t allow her to say anything more. Her words would only get more vile and cruel. She hated it when anyone went against what she wanted. She was used to getting her way. Sylvia had gotten that from her.

  “NO!” I said, stepping between Cleo and Sarah. “You will not stand in this house that you do not own and speak to my niece like this, spouting lies. Wilder never abandoned her, and you know it. Sarah knows it. Wilder divorced Sylvia. But he never turned his back on either of them. She belongs with her father. HE is her parent. The law says he is her legal guardian, and he should be. HE should have been for years now, but he didn’t want to put Sarah through that. The battle. He did the best he could with the situation he had. He has always been there for his daughter.”

  Cleo pointed her finger at me. “SHUT UP! You are pathetic! After all these years, you are still defending him! You make me sick! Sarah isn’t your niece. She’s not your blood. You never treated her mother like a sister. You hated her for being better than you. You hated my beautiful, precious girl for being the one that Wilder LOVED!”

  “Not true.” I stopped her as my weak heart ached, just hearing her say the words. I didn’t need a reminder. “Sarah is my niece. This is not about the past and what was. It was nine years ago. I’m not that girl anymore. The only thing between Wilder and me is, we both love Sarah and want what is best for her. This is all about Sarah. Stop making it about yourself.”

  Cleo’s furious glare held me, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t move and let her get to Sarah. She wasn’t going to cause any more pain. Sarah had dealt with more than enough in her short life.

  Belladonna moved toward Cleo, her body tense and her teeth bared.

  “No, Bella,” I ordered.

  She swung her head in my direction, then dropped it as she backed up to stand in front of Sarah again.

  “I am going with my dad,” Sarah said loudly. “Stop talking to my aunt Oaky like that, or I will never come visit you again.”

  Cleo’s face reddened like she had been slapped, and then she turned her murderous glare to me. “You did this. THIS is your fault. I won’t forgive you for this, and neither will your father. I will tell him how cruel and pathetic you acted today. How you completely defiled all my daughter had built. He’ll believe me. You are no longer welcome in our home,” she hissed at me, then spun around and stalked out of the house.

  I didn’t move after the screen door slapped against the wooden doorframe and bounced once before latching. I watched as Cleo climbed into her Cadillac and spun out of the driveway. I wasn’t sure if my father was going to believe her and if she would hold this against me. Truly keeping me from going to my dad’s home. I also didn’t care. I had done the right thing. Sarah hadn’t needed to see her father fighting with her grandmother.