“It came as such a shock…I’m still not sure how to process it.” She relaxed her hold on the fabric. “I can’t stop thinking about how, all the time I was with them, completely being myself around them…they were working against me. I feel like a fool. I feel—”

“Like you don’t matter.”

Awareness dawned in her eyes. “Yes, that’s it exactly. Before I caught—before I found out about the betrayal, I thought I’d mattered very much. As much as they’d mattered to me.” She turned away from him, as though embarrassed by her outburst.

He got up on the platform, standing close enough to see the tiny streaks of black in her unusually pale green eyes. “When I was a kid, someone led me to believe I mattered more than anyone in the world. She lied to me for months. I ignored my gut feeling, because I was so hell-bent on getting things to go my way. When I finally figured out she’d been playing me, I got mad. The kind of mad where you flip tables and upend boulders, sending them crashing off hillsides.”

He got his first genuine smile since the bison incident. “I think we process betrayal differently.”

He grinned. “Maybe, but in the end it’s the same. The good news is that I had a dad who talked me through it.”

“What did he say?” Her eager expression made him glad he’d decided to open up to her.

“He told me that anger was the bully showing up to stand in front of my heart. And that I hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t about me being a fool…or being unimportant, it was about the person who’d betrayed me. She had bad character, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. He told me I needed to let go of the things I couldn’t control.”

“I think I’d like your dad.” She turned back to the mirror. “It helps to see it that way.”

“Because you’ve been blaming yourself?”

“No. Doubting myself. And I hate it.”

“Ah, hell, no, Rosie.” He held her gaze in the mirror, making sure she heard him. “Don’t give them that kind of power over you.”

“Here we go.” Knox came in, waving her notebook. “Let’s make this your dream dress.”

He held Rosie’s attention a second longer, until she rewarded him with a sweet smile.

Fuck. That did something funny inside his chest. “You’re going to need more room for your project, so you’re welcome to use the bunkhouse.” Brodie had no idea where that idea had come from—it would mean sharing his place with her for the next few days.