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He said something she couldn’t hear over the noise in her head, then lifted her arms straight up in the air, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran up the stairs and out into the cold ocean air on the deck. All she was wearing was one of his t-shirts, so the air was a shock to her system after spending all that time in a heated room.

Maybe it was the bouncing on his shoulder as he’d run. Maybe it was now standing in the icy wind. But whatever the reason, air rushed back into her lungs. She coughed and sputtered, but at least she could breathe.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Baby, are you all right? Never mind, I want you to focus on breathing with me. Slow, deep breaths. That’s my good girl. Good. Slowly breathing the good air in and slowly pushing the bad air out. Good. Daddy’s got you, darlin’. I’m right here. It’s all okay. You’re okay. Yeah?”

She nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak.

“Good girl,” he said. “That’s my good girl. All okay now?”

She nodded again, but he insisted she use her words. “I’m okay,” she said. She sounded like a frog with laryngitis.

Lifting one of the seat cushions on a nearby bench, he grabbed a thick blanket and wrapped her up tight. After swaddling her, he sat down with her cradled in his lap. He ran his fingers through her hair as he talked to her in that deep, comforting voice. Soon, exhaustion pulled her back under.

When she woke again, she couldn’t figure out where she was or what was going on. Then the memories crashed back in on her. She must have had a panic attack. It would only be a guess because it had never happened before.

“Good morning again, little bluebell. We’re going to have a do-over and start this day again. Is that good with you?”

It took her a minute to remember what had happened. She tried to cover her face, but the blanket still held her arms by her sides. She settled for burying her face in his chest. How could she have acted like that in front of him? He must think she was so weak. Who has a panic attack because they don’t measure up?

Her. She did, that’s who. And a panic attack did nothing but prove it was true. She was weak. He didn’t deserve someone like her. He was brave and strong. Even as he held her like the baby she was, he was probably trying to figure out how to let her down easily. No way would he think she was strong enough to live on a ranch now.

She’d ruined everything with her stupid overreactions. Just like her stupidity had landed her in trouble in the first place. Giving up on getting out of his lap, she curled up in a ball so she could put her palm on her dragon tattoo. It always made her feel better.

Where was Puff? Now she had a dragon she could hold. She looked around the seat they were on, but didn’t see her stuffie.

“What do you need, little one?” Boone asked.

Stiffening, she shook her head. It would be too much trouble for him to go get Puff for her. He’d done enough. “Nothing, Daddy. I’m good.”

The narrowing of his eyes was not a good sign. “I’ll agree that you are good, but I asked you a question, and you didn’t give me an honest answer. I’m going to ask again. This time I want the truth, young lady. I will always expect honest answers from you. The next time you lie to Daddy, there will be consequences. Are we clear?”

The knot binding her heart loosened a bit. That didn’t sound like he had given up on her. She nodded her head and said, “I need Puff, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl. Let’s go back downstairs and get her. You need to get dressed, and we need to talk about what just happened.”

The knot in her chest pulled tighter than ever. No conversation that started with we have to talk ever went well. She nodded her head again and focused all her energy on not crying as he led her back down to the master stateroom.

It didn’t take her nearly enough time to get dressed.

Boone once again sat on the side of the bed and pulled her onto his lap. Her muscles locked, and she perched on his knees, unable to force them to relax. To be honest, it was taking all she could do not to panic again. Or burst into tears. Tears never made anything better. Tears gained nothing but disappointment and disgust.

If she saw those in her Daddy’s eyes, she’d never survive it. He’d grown to be that important to her.

With gentle fingers under her chin, he forced her to look at him. She wasn’t ready for what she saw in his face. It stole her breath, but this time in such a good way. His eyes were filled with tenderness and concern.

“Can you tell me what I said that triggered you, sweet girl? I don’t ever want my words to hurt or frighten you, and it guts me that I did both of those earlier.”

Her chest tightened, and tears stung the backs of her eyes. No one had ever cared about her enough to ask her such things. She shook her head. He needed to know that it wasn’t him. She was the broken one. “No, Daddy. It was my fault.”

“I’m going to have to disagree. To be your fault, it would have to have been a deliberate attempt to manipulate. I don’t believe for a second that’s what happened. Am I wrong about that?”

Wait, what? He was right. She hadn’t made a choice to react that way. It was almost like her own memories and emotions attacked her. And boy, were they good at it. They flooded her, drowning her in waves of failure.

“No, Daddy. I wouldn’t do that on purpose. Never.”

He rewarded her by pressing his lips to her forehead. She loved it when he did that. Her heart glowed.

“So, what was going on in that incredible brain? I don’t think it was being very nice.”