“Will you shut the door? I want to talk to you about something. I don’t know how this is going to go.”

He didn’t move right away and she’d heard the breath he’d taken and held in too long. But then he moved past her and the door shut to her back.

Courtney collapsed her cane, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

“Mary Ellen made us some coffee. Would you like some?” he offered.

“I’d really like a bottle of water if you don’t mind.”

She heard him move toward the corner of the room where a small refrigerator held waters. The door opened. The bottles shifted. And a moment later he was standing next to her.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you,” she said as she held out her hand for the bottle. Tyler placed it in her reach and she opened it and took a sip.

He moved the chair next to her and sat down. “Is everything okay? You’re making me very nervous.”

“I’m nervous. It’s wearing off,” she joked poorly. “I learned something last night and I don’t know what to do with the information.”

“Okay, tell me what it is and I’ll help you.”

Courtney sucked in a breath hoping it would give her courage. It only made her light headed.

“Your mother—tell me about the man before your father.”

The air in the room grew thick and Tyler leaned back in his chair. The cushion gave to the pressure of his back and the chair squeaked as it rocked.

“That is a very strange request.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t have a lot of information for you. He’s Darcy’s birthfather. He tried to kill her and my mother. He left her for dead.” His voice was rising. “I can’t imagine what you’d want to know about him for.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t like this confrontation. She didn’t want to make him go through this, but she had to know.

“What happened to him?”

Tyler moved to her side and the chair moved back. She could hear him pace behind her; feel the breeze as his body moved back and forth.

“Why do you want to know all of this? What does this have to do with anything?”

“My father knows your mother killed this man and it worries him that the ghosts in your closet will hurt me.”

The room went silent, but the air grew even thicker.

Tyler’s pacing had moved from behind her to around the table. He’d walked away from her.

“Your father is accusing my mother of being some vicious attacker? He’s worried she’ll hurt you or does he think that something like that is in my blood?”

His voice had raised enough she was now more than uncomfortable in her situation. Why had she done this? Why here? There was no escape if her father was right. She didn’t want to think he was, but at the very moment, she was scared.

“No, it’s not like that.”

“Really? You want to know about my mother killing a man who tried to kill her because your father is worried about you. That’s what you’re saying. He’s worried I will hurt you.”

“Tyler, stop.” She felt the tears begin to sting.

“You asked the question. You’ll get your answer.” A chair was pushed into the table, though not slammed, but she knew he was angry and she didn’t blame him. “Yes. My mother killed the bastard who tried to kill her and my sister. He beat her and left her for dead, Courtney. Left-her-for-dead.”

He paced more and now it was quicker. “Tyler…” she started, feeling the need to reel him in.

“She gave Darcy away, never even looked at her because it hurt too much. She didn’t want the bastard to find her baby and hurt her. Can you even imagine wanting a baby so much and then giving her away?”

The very thought had tears breaking free. “No.”

“Dad told me just yesterday that every year on her birthday my mother would get very emotional.” His voice began to ease. “I never knew anything was going on. I didn’t know she mourned someone so much.”

“That says something about her that she could love that much after someone hurt her so badly.”

He stopped moving. “Yeah.” She heard him move around the table and come back to the seat next to her. He pulled it out and sat down.

“My uncle told the man she died. He’d replaced her with some other woman and that was the reason he’d tried to kill her. But my uncle told him she and the baby died and he went away, which was the plan.”

“Why not send him to jail?”

“Because then it drug it out and involved my mother more. My uncle was trying to just make it go away. I don’t know. The man moved to Europe and that was better, at the time, than dragging my mother though some battle in court.”

Courtney nodded. She supposed she understood that. “He found out she was alive.”

Tyler took her hand. “Yes. Though he didn’t come after her then. It wasn’t until after Spencer and I were born that he’d lost everything and he came back for revenge. He began stalking Aunt Arianna because he’d seen her in New York. Then he stalked Uncle John because he’d become involved with my aunt and would lead him to my dad. He reeled them all in until my aunt and my mom were at the theater together one night alone.”

“Clara was with them.”

“You sure do know a lot,” he said interlacing their fingers. “Wrong place-wrong time.”

“He hurt them.”

“He knocked out John. Took Clara, hit her, and locked her in a closet before setting the theater on fire.”

Courtney covered her mouth with her other hand as the tears fell freely down her cheeks.

“All I know is they got her out of the closet, but the theater was engulfed. Somewhere in the chaos of black and smoke my mother got the gun my aunt carries on her and shot him.”

A small unnecessary croak of a laugh escaped Courtney. “She shot him in the dark in an engulfed building.”

She felt the tension ease away from his fingers. “She’s quite a marksman. She taught Spencer and me how to shoot. Oh, heck, she taught my dad to shoot.”

Now she laughed freely but then brought it back in. The mood was still too serious to enjoy that insight into his mother. “He was going to kill her,” she said.

“Her, John, Arianna, and Clara. I know she’d have killed him even if she was going to die, to protect me and my brother.”