"Nothing too intense at first," Jude assured her. "Just some basics that everyone in the family needs to know."
"Is that really necessary?" Angela asked, her voice smaller now.
"Unfortunately, yes," Jude said, noting the way her knuckles had gone white when she gripped the rolling pin. "Given Duncan's high profile and the situation with Jim, it's important that you're able to protect yourself if necessary."
Angela's gaze dropped back to the dough. "I don't know if I'm cut out for that kind of thing."
Jude stepped closer, close enough to catch the scent of vanilla and cinnamon that seemed to envelop her. "You're stronger than you think, Angela. You survived over twenty years in a situation that would have broken a lot of people."
She looked up at him then, something vulnerable flickering in her blue-green eyes. "That's different. That was just… enduring."
"Sometimes enduring is more difficult than fighting back," Jude said quietly.
The words hung between them, and Jude saw something shift in her expression. Recognition, maybe. Understanding.
"Would you…" she started, then stopped, shaking her head. "Never mind."
"What is it?" Jude prompted.
Angela kept her gaze focused on her task. "Would you be the one teaching us? The self-defense, I mean."
"If you're comfortable with that."
"I am. I trust you." She lifted her head and gave him a quick smile. “I’m sure it’s not a surprise that I feel safe with you.”
That simple statement hit Jude like a physical blow. He'd spent years protecting the Burke family, but he'd never had one of them tell him that he made them feel safe. Not the way Angelica just had.
"That's what I'm here for," he said, his voice gruffer than he intended.
Angela nodded, returning her attention to the dough, but Jude caught the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She began spreading butter, then sprinkled cinnamon and sugar across the rolled surface with practiced ease.
"When would we start?" she asked.
"Soon. Duncan wants you to at least have a basic understanding of self-defense as soon as possible." Jude watched her work, noting the confidence in her movements when she was doing something familiar. Something that she liked. "We could begin with the driving lessons if you prefer. That might be less intimidating."
"I've never driven a car," Angela admitted, carefully rolling the dough into a log. "Jim said that it was only important that Craig knew how to drive."
Another piece of the puzzle that was Angela's past clicked into place for Jude. Their isolation had been complete—no television, no car, no connection to the outside world beyond what Jim and Sandra had allowed.
"It's not as hard as it looks," he said. "And I'm also a pretty patient teacher."
Angela began slicing the rolled dough into even portions. "Kiara's excited about learning. She's been talking about driving for years."
"What about you?"
She paused, knife halfway through the dough. "I'm terrified I'll crash into something expensive."
Jude couldn't help but smile at that. "We'll start on the roads here on the estate. No traffic, no pressure." He watched as she sliced the log into perfect spirals, each one uniform in size. "You have good hands for detail work."
Angela glanced up at him, surprise flickering across her features. "Thank you."
“Do you think you’ll miss working at the bakery?” Jude asked, watching as she lined up each spiral on a baking tray.
“I don’t know.” She covered the filled tray with a white cloth, then set it to the side. “I love to bake, but it wasn’t always fun at the bakery. Patty could be… demanding.”
“Well, now you can choose where and when you want to bake.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Yes. I suppose I can.”
