“I’m paying attention now.”
She sighed and pulled her foot from his grasp. “And why is that?”
He surprised her by reaching across the table to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “Does it matter? Past is past. Can’t change it. Best to let it go.”
“Is that right? Just let it go, huh? I suppose you haven’t held on to anything in your past, have you?”
“We aren’t talking about me. We’re talking about you. I’m at a disadvantage, remember? You know about my family, now I want to know about yours.”
“Do you watch the news?”
“Yes.” He drew the syllable out, watching her suspiciously.
“Then you know everything I do. Probably more, because I tend to hit mute at the mere mention of my father.” Not entirely accurate. Mute … turn off … same thing right?
“And that’s what I want to hear about. The news doesn’t tell me why you never talk about them. Why you’re on your own.”
“I’m a grown woman. Why wouldn’t I be on my own?”
“Very funny. Don’t avoid the question. Why don’t you see your family?”
Samantha sipped at her beer as she thought about how best to answer his question. She hadn’t become close to Amanda or Brandon until after the plane crash that had taken the lives of their parents. She hadn’t known Caleb before he’d joined the military. She’d seen him a time or two when he’d come home on leave, but she couldn’t expect him to have known anything about her back then. He rarely spoke to her and when he did, it was short and sweet. Just enough not to be rude. After those first run-in’s, she’d not seen him again for a few years. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he’d been specifically avoiding her.
Once he’d come home for good, she’d wondered if he resented her part in helping Amanda through her grief—when he, Brandon, and Alec had been ineffective in that regard.
For Caleb, Samantha had been an outsider.
The Martin’s were a tight, loving family. Samantha had met Caleb’s parents, not long after she’d left her own.
Sophia Martin had been a quiet, gentle woman who loved to cook and take care of her family. Samantha had never heard her raise her voice, but, oh lord, could that woman drop the smack when Samantha and Alec got into trouble. Sophia could’ve made a saint feel guilty—with just a look, they’d have been begging forgiveness at her feet and swearing to never sin again. And Samantha should know. She’d been the recipient of those looks from time to time when she and Alec were in high school. Sophia had a kind heart, had treated Samantha like one of them, like family. Samantha would always love her for that.
Douglas Martin was a whole other story. A career military man, Douglas had held his family together with a firm, yet fair, hand. Samantha remembered his voice, so much like Caleb’s, its timbre rich and deep. The kind of voice that rattled the bones when raised and soothed the soul when calm. Douglas had been quick to smile, and he loved his family more than any man Samantha had ever seen. And she owed him more than could’ve ever been repaid.
Caleb had loved his father, so how could he understand the hatred she had for her own? When it came to family, they came from two different worlds.
“It’s a long, boring story.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. Come on, Samantha.” He took her hands in his. “Talk to me.”
She jerked her hands away with a frustrated groan. She didn’t want to talk about this stuff. Ever. “How about we go back to your place and get naked instead?”
“Is that how you cope? Or, should I say, avoid? Is this a pattern I should be aware of?”
Her Irish temper reared its ugly head. “What do you want to hear, Caleb?” she fumed through her teeth, careful to keep her voice at a normal octave. “My father is a piece of shit and my mother is a fool who follows his every command. End of story.”
He was taken aback. “That’s pretty harsh.”
“I was being kind,” she said dryly. Somehow, she didn’t think she was getting out of this conversation. She drained the remaining beer from her glass and waved to the waitress for a refill. Sharing this particular part of her life required at least one more beer, maybe two, depending on how many times he interrupted her.
“You know, you can tell me anything.”
That wasn’t the problem. The problem was what he’d think of her after her story was out. Less than a week ago, he’d thought her the bane of his existence. The causer of trouble for himself and his siblings.
What would he think after he learned that she’d stood and watched her mother being beaten for something Samantha had done?