Page 22 of Mountain Target

“How’s Ren doing?” It didn’t take a genius to know the most probable cause behind her tears.

“Some days are better than others. Today was a hard day. The school’s asking parents to come into the classroom next week.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” he said, “where’s Ren’s dad?”

“Who knows? Ren was conceived while my sister was at university. I was young, but I understand the father wanted nothing to do with her.”

Beau clenched his jaw. Youth was no excuse for not taking responsibility.

“My sister didn’t mind,” she said quickly. “She wanted the baby. She was the best mother in the world to Ren.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. But that’s not why I was crying. The truth is, I’m so … inadequate … compared to her.”

He looked into her eyes. He wasn’t any good at offering comfort. “I assume you’re younger than your sister was.”

“Seven years younger.”

“You’re younger, and you’ve had less practice. Maybe you should cut yourself some slack.”

“Do you have any kids?” she asked.

“No,” he said quickly.

“I’ve always loved Ren like a sister. But now … our relationship’s changed, for obvious reasons.”

Beau didn’t have anything to say to that. He’d been in his twenties when he lost his parents, and it still hurt like hell. He couldn’t imagine what it would have felt like at thirteen.

“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to hear this.” She snorted quietly. “I’m usually on the other side of the tales of woe.”

At the hospital.

“Marie says you’re a great doctor. One of the best in the Emergency Room.”

“I try to be. But it’s good Marie thinks so—the hospital’s lucky to have her. How do you know Marie? Your job?”

He found himself wanting to tell her the truth.

“That … and my knee. I shattered my knee several years ago, and it’s never been the same again.”

“But you’re still able to lead a team out there in the field?”

He’d never told her that.

Warmth filled him inside.

She’s been asking about me, too.

“What did Marie say about me?”

“That you’re ill-tempered, but a good person underneath.”

Beau clenched his jaw. He wasn’t so sure about that. A good man wouldn’t be out here, wanting what he wanted. A good man would have gone home a long time ago.

Valentina stood up, still clutching his jacket around her shoulders. Her deep hazel eyes bored into his. “I didn’t ask Marie about you because I was afraid,” she whispered.

His eyebrow shot up.