Hawk’s mouth tightened, and she knew she’d missed something.

Then he asked, “But if his mom’s terrified to raise her voice…?”

Aric’s mother took a step back, looking like he’d slapped her. Hawk winced.

Hell, he’d fucked up, hadn’t he?

How else could he explain that the way she tiptoed around and spoke barely above a whisper would influence the kid? If she acted as if she’d be yelled at for making noise, the boy would never change.

He watched as she recovered. As her gaze dropped to her son.

“You didn’t realize,” he said slowly.

She shook her head and said softly, “After a while—” Her hands clenched…and then her chin came up, and her voice emerged much louder. “After a while, staying quiet becomes a habit.”

Eyes wide, Aric stared at her.

So did Hawk.

She had a beautiful mouth, sweetly curved lips with the bottom one bigger than the top…and it quivered as she smiled at her son. “Aric, Obadiah and those men were wrong to order us to be quiet all the time. Sometimes, whispering is good—like when someone is sleeping, and you don’t want to wake them up. But when we’re with friends—like now—we can be just as loud as they are.”

The way the kid watched his mother as if she was an unexploded landmine made Hawk smother a laugh.

And made him want to pound a few heads together for what the kid had gone through.

But when the slender young woman discovered she had a motherlode of courage inside her? Now that was an honor to watch.

And when she turned and yelled across the patio, “Hey, Bull, I’m starving. When do we eat?” Hawk almost cheered.

Kit blinked and stared up at the ceiling. Oh look, I’m awake. Again. For what—the third time tonight? She shouldn’t have had that can of caffeinated soda at supper. She knew better. But, oh, it was such a lovely indulgence to enjoy the foods Obadiah had forbidden.

Unfortunately, the caffeine meant her brain kept waking her back up after an hour or two of sleep. Darn it.

Earlier, on the patio, she’d eventually relaxed around the Hermitage residents, although it would be nice if the guys were timid nerds instead of obviously dangerous. But during the meal at the oak picnic table, they’d been thoughtful when speaking to her, using gentle tones and expressions. Much the same as they were with Aric.

Eventually, she might resent being treated as if she was weak, but right now—she wrinkled her nose in annoyance—right now, she really was a wussy, and their consideration helped.

Because she was also far too inclined to panic. Like when they’d started sitting down. Frankie motioned for Kit to sit beside her near the middle, and Kit had frozen.