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“Westin said you’re married.”

Clint changed with those words, growing stiff in the way he leaned forward toward the steering wheel of the old truck. A storm darkened his face, his expression so dark that she was pushed aback, wondering for a second if he might strike out at her for daring to mention it.

“Sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize it was a sore subject.”

He shot her a look that was still dark, but also clearly bewildered. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, it is.”

He grunted. “I didn’t think… Hell!” He smacked his hand on the wheel. “I’ve been trying to keep all that separate, packed away. I guess I haven’t been doing a very good job lately.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“You can say that.” He glanced at Lea again, a desire to share his burden written in the lines on his weatherworn face. “She’s cheating on me. With some idiot from Denver.” He pushed his baseball cap off his head and ran his hand over the top of his skull with some pronounced aggression. “Met him a couple of months back. Over the Internet. Can you fucking believe that?”

“I’m sorry.”

His hands moved over the wheel, twisting across it like he wanted to tear it from the steering column. “We’ve been married eight years. We have a kid! She wants to take my daughter to Denver, to live with this son of a bitch! Says I’m not around enough, that I don’t spend enough time with them. Says I brought this on myself. Like I asked her to cheat on me!”

Lea wanted to console him, but she didn’t have the words. Besides, she knew that sometimes a person just needed to say what was hurting them, like spitting out the words was enough to exorcise the emotion attached to them. But it didn’t seem to be helping Clint any.

“She’s the one who wants out of the marriage, but she thinks she can take my kid and just walk away? Like what I want doesn’t matter? Like I don’t matter?” He shook his head. “That’s not how it works!”

Silence fell between them. Lea felt almost stupid sitting there, letting him vent and not saying anything. He stopped the truck outside the bunkhouse where she was staying, his hands still on the wheel, his attention everywhere but on her. She could feel the tension rolling off him, but she could see the sorrow, the pain that his wife was heaping on him with her actions. He might be a tough guy who could wrangle cows and control the semi-wild men who worked for him, but he was a man under that tough exterior. A man whose heart was breaking.

“When you’re ready,” she said softly, speaking barely loud enough for her voice to carry, “I have a friend in family law who might be able to recommend a lawyer for you. To help you with custody of your child.”

His grip on the wheel loosened, and he allowed his hands to fall to his lap. There was still tension in his body that left him looking something like a piece of stone sitting there behind the wheel, like some bizarre art piece. But then he slowly rotated his head, his eyes brushing over her quickly, filled with a shame that was so palpable that it almost made her feel ashamed for seeing it.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’ve put you in an awkward position.”

“No, it’s fine. I understand sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than to someone you know.”

He nodded. “It won’t happen again.”

Clint got out of the truck and came around, offering a hand to help her out of the cab. She followed him to the door of the long building, almost laughed aloud when he gently pushed her behind him and used a small flashlight he took from his pocket to check the door for tampering. He was very cautious, turning on the lights and looking around before he allowed her inside, almost like a trained security guard might do. When he escorted her to her room, he opened the door for her, but made her wait in the hallway while he checked everything, made sure the room was still empty and secure.

“Thank you,” Lea said as she entered the room, exhaustion settling on her shoulders at the first glance of that big, beautiful bed.

“I’ll have one of the boys stand guard outside during the night.”

She nodded, having almost forgotten how she’d asked for protection. They were taking it seriously, weren’t they? It struck her then that Clint was the kind of guy who took everything seriously.

“How old’s your kid?”

He paused at the door, turning on his heel to look at her. “Excuse me?”

Lea rolled her shoulders as she leaned back on her arms where she was perched on the corner of the bed. “Your kid. How old is… she?”

“She’ll be eight in a couple of months.”

“What’s her name?”

“Katie.” He smiled, the first true smile Lea had seen on his handsome face. “She’s the light of my life.”

“And I’m sure she knows it, too.”

“I hope so.”