Read Online In Broad Daylight by Marie Ferrarella - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marie Ferrarella
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long time."
There was something in her tone that told him they had this in common. "When did your
mother die?"
Brenda looked up at him, debating changing the subject. But he had allowed her a peek
into his life; it seemed rude somehow to abruptly terminate the conversation. Besides, it
had all happened such a long time ago. She was beyond hurting now, she told herself. Or so
she liked to believe. "She didn't. She left."
Things began to fall into place. That was why Brenda was so passionate about Rebecca
Allen-Tyler's lack of maternal love. Because she identified with the kidnapped little girl.
He thought of his Uncle Andrew. Aunt Rose had walked out after an argument and had
gone missing for fifteen years. In her case, there'd been an accident with the car and
they had all thought she was dead. Everyone except for his uncle. And, as it turned out,
everyone except for his uncle had been wrong. Aunt Rose had been a victim of amnesia.
"Just like that?" he prodded.
She reflected. "No, not just like that. It was probably a long time in coming. My father
wasn't exactly the easiest man to live with. She finally couldn't take it anymore. Neither
could I, but I was too young to pack up and go." She saw the question in his eyes. "I was nine at the time."
"A lot of kids run away at nine. Younger." He'd seen the files to prove it.
He had a point, she supposed. There were times when she sat in the dark in her room
after a particularly bad confrontation with her father, sobbing. Wanting desperately to
find a way out of her life. But there had been no one to turn to.
She gathered the flyers together, placing them on top of the others.
"Maybe I thought things out too much. I didn't like the idea of living on the street.
Besides, I kept hoping that one day my father would wake up and have an epiphany—" It all
seemed so silly now. She should have known better, even then. "That he'd realize that I
was one hell of a little girl and that he should appreciate all that love I had to give him."
Dax felt something protective stir within him, even though the events had taken place in
the past and there was nothing he could do about them now. It still didn't change the fact
that he wanted to hold her to him, to comfort her. "But he didn't."
She blew out a breath. "No, he didn't." She turned and looked at him. How had all that
come out? She'd shared more with him in this short space of time than she ever could with
Wade. "So, how much do you charge by the hour, doctor?"
He smiled and shook his head. "The first hundred hours are free. Call it my cousin-
training."
"They all come to you with their problems?" He didn't strike her as the counseling type.
Yet here she was, running off at the mouth around him, she reminded herself.
Dax felt he had no particular claim to that position. "We all come to each other whenever
the occasion calls for it. I guess it's a little like having your own support group," he
decided.
He'd never really thought of it that way before, but it was true. None of them had ever
felt alone, not even his cousin Patrick, he guessed, and Patrick was the one who along with
his sister, Patience, had had a troubled childhood. Uncle Mike, he'd discovered after
piecing things together he'd overheard and had been told by his cousin Shaw, had been the
insecure brother. Sandwiched in between Andrew and Brian, Mike always felt as if they
outshone him with their achievements. Early on it had frustrated him and he'd taken it out
on his family, drinking too much, being verbally abusive, finding solace with other women.
Dax knew that both his father and his Uncle Andrew, especially his uncle, had tried very
hard to smooth things over for Patrick and Patience, to give them as secure a feeling of
home and hearth as they could. Patience was the optimistic one, she was easy. But Patrick
had presented a challenge when he was growing up.
Things had eventually turned out all right and now
There was something in her tone that told him they had this in common. "When did your
mother die?"
Brenda looked up at him, debating changing the subject. But he had allowed her a peek
into his life; it seemed rude somehow to abruptly terminate the conversation. Besides, it
had all happened such a long time ago. She was beyond hurting now, she told herself. Or so
she liked to believe. "She didn't. She left."
Things began to fall into place. That was why Brenda was so passionate about Rebecca
Allen-Tyler's lack of maternal love. Because she identified with the kidnapped little girl.
He thought of his Uncle Andrew. Aunt Rose had walked out after an argument and had
gone missing for fifteen years. In her case, there'd been an accident with the car and
they had all thought she was dead. Everyone except for his uncle. And, as it turned out,
everyone except for his uncle had been wrong. Aunt Rose had been a victim of amnesia.
"Just like that?" he prodded.
She reflected. "No, not just like that. It was probably a long time in coming. My father
wasn't exactly the easiest man to live with. She finally couldn't take it anymore. Neither
could I, but I was too young to pack up and go." She saw the question in his eyes. "I was nine at the time."
"A lot of kids run away at nine. Younger." He'd seen the files to prove it.
He had a point, she supposed. There were times when she sat in the dark in her room
after a particularly bad confrontation with her father, sobbing. Wanting desperately to
find a way out of her life. But there had been no one to turn to.
She gathered the flyers together, placing them on top of the others.
"Maybe I thought things out too much. I didn't like the idea of living on the street.
Besides, I kept hoping that one day my father would wake up and have an epiphany—" It all
seemed so silly now. She should have known better, even then. "That he'd realize that I
was one hell of a little girl and that he should appreciate all that love I had to give him."
Dax felt something protective stir within him, even though the events had taken place in
the past and there was nothing he could do about them now. It still didn't change the fact
that he wanted to hold her to him, to comfort her. "But he didn't."
She blew out a breath. "No, he didn't." She turned and looked at him. How had all that
come out? She'd shared more with him in this short space of time than she ever could with
Wade. "So, how much do you charge by the hour, doctor?"
He smiled and shook his head. "The first hundred hours are free. Call it my cousin-
training."
"They all come to you with their problems?" He didn't strike her as the counseling type.
Yet here she was, running off at the mouth around him, she reminded herself.
Dax felt he had no particular claim to that position. "We all come to each other whenever
the occasion calls for it. I guess it's a little like having your own support group," he
decided.
He'd never really thought of it that way before, but it was true. None of them had ever
felt alone, not even his cousin Patrick, he guessed, and Patrick was the one who along with
his sister, Patience, had had a troubled childhood. Uncle Mike, he'd discovered after
piecing things together he'd overheard and had been told by his cousin Shaw, had been the
insecure brother. Sandwiched in between Andrew and Brian, Mike always felt as if they
outshone him with their achievements. Early on it had frustrated him and he'd taken it out
on his family, drinking too much, being verbally abusive, finding solace with other women.
Dax knew that both his father and his Uncle Andrew, especially his uncle, had tried very
hard to smooth things over for Patrick and Patience, to give them as secure a feeling of
home and hearth as they could. Patience was the optimistic one, she was easy. But Patrick
had presented a challenge when he was growing up.
Things had eventually turned out all right and now
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