“Have you talked to her?”

He barked a laugh. “No. I came straight to you.”

Jamie’s heart twisted. “Oh.”

“I don’t know what the hell to do with this, Jamie. My family is dysfunctional. We love each other. We always have. But I...I wanted to take care of her, no matter what. She didn’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what to say. But I know that secrets are toxic. Wyatt and my dad had their share, and it nearly destroyed them. I also know that family is complicated. Because the relationship Wyatt had with Dad isn’t the relationship that Bennett had with him. Or the relationship Grant had. Or even me. All the stuff is just... It’s complicated. And it doesn’t mean you don’t love everybody.”

“This is testing it,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

She reached across the table and put her hand over his. She’d never been in a situation where touch was required for comfort.

Stand up, wipe the blood off, move on.

But she didn’t want to tell Gabe to wipe the blood off. She wanted to make him feel better.

The desire made her feel both softer and stronger. More than a little bit vulnerable.

But what struck her most of all was how much she wanted this. To help him carry that burden. And it had her thinking about her own life, and the way she had tried to act tough, and what she’d assumed her brothers and father wanted from her. She swallowed the lump building in her throat, because it wasn’t really the time to think about that or talk about it. This was about him.

“You’re going to have to ask her,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “But not now. Not for a while.”

“Those siblings... Those ones that you found out about back then. They’re one of the reasons you want to do this last chance ranch thing, aren’t they?”

“I’ve always felt guilty. Because I never asked my mom if she knew how to get in touch with any of them. So that concern that I felt...it didn’t really mean much of anything, did it?”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen. Old enough.”

“No,” Jamie said. “Not really.”

“What would you have thought about that? If it were you?”

“Oh, even a couple of weeks ago I would’ve told you that seventeen was old enough to make those kinds of decisions. Old enough to handle yourself. But it’s a strange thing... Having two weeks of firsts. You realize all of a sudden, when you know a little more, how little you know at all.”

“I’m not sure I follow that.”

“No, well, I guess you wouldn’t. You know, considering that you probably lost your virginity—” she squinted at him “—when?”

“High school sometime,” he grunted.

“Right. Like you don’t remember the exact moment.” Not that she wanted to think about other women touching him. But while she might be in a more emotional place than usual, she was a pragmatic soul. He’d been with other women. So what? He’d be with other women after her, too. She’d be with other men. She liked sex. She wouldn’t want to go back to being celibate.