Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
H er gaze shot up, only to come face to face with a very unhappy Daddy. As a matter of fact, he was the exact opposite of happy. He was furious.
Now just a minute. What right did he have to be furious?
She’d told him what he wanted to hear. She wasn’t sure what else he expected. She didn’t like not meeting people’s expectations. Meeting expectations meant she was safe. It meant there could be peace.
She’d done her part. What was wrong with him?
“Answer me, little girl. What was that shit you just spewed at me?”
“You… you said I was ungrateful.”
“I sure as hell did not.” If his scowl got any deeper, his eyebrows would merge in the center of his face.
How could she give him what he wanted when he didn’t even remember what he’d asked for? Something in her snapped. Too much was too much. She punched her hips with her fists and yelled right back.
“You did so say that. You said I should be grateful I was rescued and do whatever it takes not to be taken again. I’m not a complete idiot, you know. I may be slow to grasp some things, but if the General taught me anything, he taught me that.”
Boy, did he ever.
Unbidden, the memory assailed her, taking her down. Her father’s voice echoed in her head. “Sera, an A+ in British literature is trash if you only get a ninety-seven on your advanced calculus test when you could have gotten a one hundred. With all I’m doing for you, the least you could do is put forth a modicum of effort. Your lack of gratitude is a slap in the face. It makes me sick.”
Wait. Had she said that last part out loud?
Boone studied her like she was some kind of science experiment that failed, and he couldn’t figure out why. Several times, he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Great. She finally found the Daddy of her dreams and promptly broke him. This was why she couldn’t have anything nice.
After waiting a few minutes for him to say something, her tummy started to get tight, and her eyes started to burn. What was he thinking? Did he wish he hadn’t rescued her? Was he thinking about chucking her into the sea?
He was getting harder and harder to focus on because all the spots floating around kept getting in her way.
He took her hand in his. “Bluebell, are you breathing? I’m gonna need you to calm down and take a breath, darlin’.”
What was he talking about? Of course, she was breathing. And as soon as her lungs stopped burning, she’d tell him so. Not breathing. Ha!
But she’d have to tell him how silly he was being later. Right now, she needed to figure out who was stabbing her chest with knives of fire.
“Shit. Tildi, breathe for me, babygirl.” He grabbed her arms and forced her to her feet.
He said something else, but the ringing in her ears and the pounding of her heart in her chest were all she could focus on. And whoever was crying in that muffled way really needed to stop. It was annoying.
Boone shook her. Hard. His lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. But she couldn’t worry about that, either. She was floating. It was almost like she was watching a video of what was going on in the room but not really experiencing it.
And he really needed to stop shaking her because her head was killing her, and that wasn’t helping. But he was right about one thing. She needed to breathe.
She tried. She really did, but it was like something was lodged in her throat, and she couldn’t get past it.
He said something she couldn’t hear over the noise in her head, then lifted her arms straight up in the air, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran up the stairs and out into the cold ocean air on the deck. All she was wearing was one of his t-shirts, so the air was a shock to her system after spending all that time in a heated room.
Maybe it was the bouncing on his shoulder as he’d run. Maybe it was now standing in the icy wind. But whatever the reason, air rushed back into her lungs. She coughed and sputtered, but at least she could breathe.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Baby, are you all right? Never mind, I want you to focus on breathing with me. Slow, deep breaths. That’s my good girl. Good. Slowly breathing the good air in and slowly pushing the bad air out. Good. Daddy’s got you, darlin’. I’m right here. It’s all okay. You’re okay. Yeah?”
She nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak.
“Good girl,” he said. “That’s my good girl. All okay now?”
She nodded again, but he insisted she use her words. “I’m okay,” she said. She sounded like a frog with laryngitis.
Lifting one of the seat cushions on a nearby bench, he grabbed a thick blanket and wrapped her up tight. After swaddling her, he sat down with her cradled in his lap. He ran his fingers through her hair as he talked to her in that deep, comforting voice. Soon, exhaustion pulled her back under.
When she woke again, she couldn’t figure out where she was or what was going on. Then the memories crashed back in on her. She must have had a panic attack. It would only be a guess because it had never happened before.
“Good morning again, little bluebell. We’re going to have a do-over and start this day again. Is that good with you?”
It took her a minute to remember what had happened. She tried to cover her face, but the blanket still held her arms by her sides. She settled for burying her face in his chest. How could she have acted like that in front of him? He must think she was so weak. Who has a panic attack because they don’t measure up?
Her. She did, that’s who. And a panic attack did nothing but prove it was true. She was weak. He didn’t deserve someone like her. He was brave and strong. Even as he held her like the baby she was, he was probably trying to figure out how to let her down easily. No way would he think she was strong enough to live on a ranch now.
She’d ruined everything with her stupid overreactions. Just like her stupidity had landed her in trouble in the first place. Giving up on getting out of his lap, she curled up in a ball so she could put her palm on her dragon tattoo. It always made her feel better.
Where was Puff? Now she had a dragon she could hold. She looked around the seat they were on, but didn’t see her stuffie.
“What do you need, little one?” Boone asked.
Stiffening, she shook her head. It would be too much trouble for him to go get Puff for her. He’d done enough. “Nothing, Daddy. I’m good.”
The narrowing of his eyes was not a good sign. “I’ll agree that you are good, but I asked you a question, and you didn’t give me an honest answer. I’m going to ask again. This time I want the truth, young lady. I will always expect honest answers from you. The next time you lie to Daddy, there will be consequences. Are we clear?”
The knot binding her heart loosened a bit. That didn’t sound like he had given up on her. She nodded her head and said, “I need Puff, Daddy.”
“That’s my good girl. Let’s go back downstairs and get her. You need to get dressed, and we need to talk about what just happened.”
The knot in her chest pulled tighter than ever. No conversation that started with we have to talk ever went well. She nodded her head again and focused all her energy on not crying as he led her back down to the master stateroom.
It didn’t take her nearly enough time to get dressed.
Boone once again sat on the side of the bed and pulled her onto his lap. Her muscles locked, and she perched on his knees, unable to force them to relax. To be honest, it was taking all she could do not to panic again. Or burst into tears. Tears never made anything better. Tears gained nothing but disappointment and disgust.
If she saw those in her Daddy’s eyes, she’d never survive it. He’d grown to be that important to her.
With gentle fingers under her chin, he forced her to look at him. She wasn’t ready for what she saw in his face. It stole her breath, but this time in such a good way. His eyes were filled with tenderness and concern.
“Can you tell me what I said that triggered you, sweet girl? I don’t ever want my words to hurt or frighten you, and it guts me that I did both of those earlier.”
Her chest tightened, and tears stung the backs of her eyes. No one had ever cared about her enough to ask her such things. She shook her head. He needed to know that it wasn’t him. She was the broken one. “No, Daddy. It was my fault.”
“I’m going to have to disagree. To be your fault, it would have to have been a deliberate attempt to manipulate. I don’t believe for a second that’s what happened. Am I wrong about that?”
Wait, what? He was right. She hadn’t made a choice to react that way. It was almost like her own memories and emotions attacked her. And boy, were they good at it. They flooded her, drowning her in waves of failure.
“No, Daddy. I wouldn’t do that on purpose. Never.”
He rewarded her by pressing his lips to her forehead. She loved it when he did that. Her heart glowed.
“So, what was going on in that incredible brain? I don’t think it was being very nice.”
“No.” This was hard. What if he didn’t understand? She wasn’t sure she understood. How could he? “Daddy, can I hold Puff?”
“Of course, Bluebell.” He reached across the bed and grabbed her friend. “Here you go. Can you tell me the words that upset you?”
Puff was soft against her cheek. With her Daddy and her dragon, she could be brave.
“It wasn’t your words, Daddy. It was my ears. I don’t like disappointing people. In the house I grew up in, disappointing people got you yelled at and punished. So now I am constantly listening to people’s words and the tone of their voice. If I pick up on the fact they are unhappy with me, I can do something about it before they get upset. People aren’t nice when they get upset.”
She waited for him to scold her. He had every right to tell her how silly she’d been and how much she’d scared him.
But then he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. The steady thump of his heart was comforting. The warmth and acceptance washed over her, cleansing her spirit.
“I’m sorry you had to live in that house. And I’m glad you called it your house and not your home because a home isn’t like that. Now, look at me, Tildi.”
She obeyed, no longer worried about what she would see in his eyes.
“I will never be disappointed in you. You are a beautiful soul, and you are valuable because of who you are, not what you achieve or accomplish. I may be disappointed in your actions from time to time, but never, ever in you. I don’t expect you to be perfect. And I’m warning you right now that I’m not even close to perfect myself. So, Bluebell, you’re going to be disappointed in me sometimes, too. But I promise if you’ll talk to me when that happens, I’ll do everything in my power to make it right. Deal?”
It took her a second to process all that he’d said. Things like that weren’t ever said around her, much less to her. Until now. Until Boone. Beaming up at him, she nodded. “Deal, Daddy. And I call no takebacks.”
He grinned before kissing her forehead again. “No takebacks from you, either.”
She owed the universe an apology. All those times she’d thought no one was listening, she’d been wrong. The universe just needed to get her in the right place at the right time so she could have a Daddy like Boone. At least for now.
He scanned her face and must have been reassured by whatever he saw. “Dutch made breakfast, and he gets his tighty whities in a wad when people don’t eat what he cooks while it’s hot. What do you say we save him that discomfort and fix ourselves a plate?”
Her stomach growled, answering for her. With a bark of laughter, Boone stood and carried her from the bedroom into what he called the helm station. There was a large square table to the left, surrounded by a U-shaped sectional. On their way, they passed through the galley, where she saw a man wearing camo pants and suspenders without a shirt cooking something on the glass-top stove.
Boone sat down on the sectional, keeping her on his lap. No sooner had they taken a seat than the man from the kitchen showed up with two plates. One had pancakes stacked a mile high, two eggs, bacon, and sausage, while the other had three pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse, complete with blueberry eyes, a strawberry nose, and an oversized smile of piped whipped cream.
He placed the huge plate of food in front of her and the Disney pancakes in front of Boone. She stared at them for a second, then back up at the man.
He pretended to jump and said, “Oh, my bad,” before swapping the plates around. With a grin and a wink, he said, “Hey there. My name’s Dutch.”
“You got something in your eye, Hallowell?” Boone grumbled out, frowning.
Dutch continued to grin. “Nope.”
“Thanks for the food. Now get gone,” Boone ordered.
Dutch’s grin grew to a smile. “Gotcha,” he said. With one more wink, he headed back toward the galley.
“That man’s gonna lose an eye if he keeps that up,” Boone said.
Leaning over to kiss his cheek, Tildi told him, “Don’t be a grouchy pants, Daddy. He was just being nice.”
Boone gave a non-committal grunt and began eating. Tildi wolfed down her pancakes in no time, only breaking when Boone fed her a bit of his eggs or a slice of his bacon. She’d never tasted anything better in her life.
They spent the morning exploring the ship. It was incredible. When it was Boone’s turn to take the helm, he sat in the chair with her in his lap. He even let her steer.
She was so excited, she couldn’t hold back her, “I’m doing it, Daddy. I’m doing it! See me?”
“I see you, Bluebell. You make a great co-pilot.”
“Uh-huh, we make a good team.”
“That we do, little one. That we do.”
By early afternoon, her eyelids began to droop. That she was able to hide from her Daddy, but when she was attacked by a yawn so big she couldn’t cover it, he swung his eyes her way. “Sounds like someone needs a nap.”
“Not anyone I know,” she sassed.
No one could have convinced her she would like being on a boat, but she now thought boats were the shiitake mushroom. Well, she had been rudely instructed by Grif that it was a ship, not a boat. Then she was the one who had to write lines when she justifiably stuck her tongue out at him. Lines seemed way more fun in the Little books than they were in real life.
Grif grinned when she got in trouble–smirked was more like it–but she had plans. She would be getting even before they made it to land. Then he’d learn not to mess with Big Bad Tildi. She knew he was worried because he frowned every time she gave him the “I’m watching you” gesture. It was definitely an “I’m worried” frown and not an “I’m annoyed” frown.
Then her Daddy looked at her and did that one raised eyebrow thing she couldn’t do no matter how hard she tried.
It seemed like a good moment to concede. “Well, maybe I’m a little tired.”
“Good call,” he said. Once he got her tucked in and made sure she had Puff, he lay down beside her, and once again, she drifted to sleep in her Daddy’s arms.