Carys smiled. “Fair enough.”
“What will happen to her?”
“The orphanage.” She frowned. “It’s not a terrible place, but it is understaffed at the moment and I hate the thought of someone so little falling through the cracks.” She was quick to add, “They wouldn’t do it on purpose. Their mission is good, and they try to do their best. There are some out there I wouldn’t trust as far as I could throw. This isn’t one of those.”
“They can’t find good people?”
“Not enough for the demand.”
“There has to be another way.” He couldn’t stand the thought of Rue spending a night at the orphanage. The little girl perked Kit up, too. “Adoption?”
“You?”
Blaize shook his head. “Right. Bad idea. I have to figure out a way to turn this place around. Money is tight, and I can’t let Kitlose her home, no matter what else happens. I might need to hire someone to look after her while I work on getting the ranch back in order, which will use up what little money I have left. I was hoping my brothers would answer my calls, but it’s been crickets from them so far.”
He didn’t normally talk so much. Talking to Carys came as naturally as honey to a bee. He didn’t have to force words. It was a nice change. When Lynn was in a good place, talking came easier, but it was nowhere near this easy. Carys had a way about her that made him want to open up.
Damned if he could figure out why.
“Did you get into a fight?” She cocked her head to one side.
“I pushed everyone away when Lynn first got sick. Even before that, if I’m honest. I told myself I was protecting her. She had bipolar disorder and wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see her darker sides.”
“That must have been hell.”
“She was a trouper,” he said.
Carys’s eyebrow flew up. “I meant for you.”
“You can’t do that. You can’t go there on the self-pity thing.” It was a downward spiral that led to nowhere good. He knew firsthand.
“I’m not trying to come off as patronizing, but when do you ever prioritize your needs?”
Those words struck like an arrow to the center of his chest. Bull’s-eye.
He tried to laugh it off. “I’ve never minded taking care of someone else.”
“You’re the oldest in your family, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” He was genuinely perplexed.
“I read this article about birth order and how it affects someone’s personality,” she said. “I’d say you’re a classic firstborn.”
“Because?”
“You take care of everyone else because you’re used to being put in charge.” Her tone wasn’t accusing or coming off as judging, just factual. “You have two brothers, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“So, the middle one is likely the negotiator and the youngest—well, everyone always caters to the baby,” she said. “They usually grow up with the most freedom and know how to push the envelope.”
“No one was catered to by Cormac,” he corrected.
“These are loose definitions.” She studied him. “Do you disagree with the assessments? There’s supposedly a ton of research out there on the subject.”
“Raiden is the middle child of the family, and I can see where he is the peacemaker or the negotiator,” Blaize said. “Or, at least, when hewastalking to me. Growing up, he was the one who stepped in between our younger brother and me when there was an argument.” He cracked a smile. “I was always right, of course.”
She smiled right back. “Goes without saying.”
