If their conversation hadn’t been so serious, Beau would have found her vehement responses adorable.
“Then why would you think you’re bad?”
Her brow furrowed as she processed his words.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, finally meeting his eye.
“It’s time for you to start living, pretty baby.”
Chapter Ten
“When Ansley died, I stopped living too. I felt guilty because I didn’t protect her. I questioned why she hadn’t been comfortable enough to tell me she was meeting a man. I worried I’d been too strict and that’s why she’d hidden it from me. I kept thinking if I had done things differently, she’d still be here and I let my guilt convince me I didn’t deserve good things either.”
Moved by his words, and thankful he was willing to share with her, Palmer rubbed her palm over his beard. The sharp prickles grounded her.
“Your guilt is a little different. Someone—I believe your foster parents, who didn’t deserve your sparkle—filled your heart with lies about what you did or didn’t deserve. And while they were wrong, somewhere along the way, you believed them and their untrue words wrapped around your heart. It’s made you believe your needs, your very natural needs, are bad and that’s not true at all, honey.”
Tears prickled Palmer’s eyelids and she knew there was no point in trying to rub them away. Taking a steadying breath and bracing herself, she prepared to say something she’d never shared before.
“My m-mom was… she... I...”
Master Beau gently turned her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her, resting both hands on her back.
“I’m listening, baby.”
“My mom was sick. Sometimes she was nice. She’d brush my curls or take me to the park.”
Palmer searched Beau’s eyes, looking for the warmth and acceptance she was used to seeing in them. When she found it, she continued.
“But other times she was mean. The littlest thing would set her off. She’d explode at the sight of me or the sound of my voice. Shehatedme. It was so hard because I never knew which version of her I was going to get.”
Master Beau didn’t say anything, but his hands tightened on her back.
“When she was angry with me, she said really awful things. Terrible things.” Palmer swallowed. “I let people think my foster parents caused me to be so fearful, but, really, it was my mom. I mean, Linda and Michael weren’t any better... but my mom’s words are the ones that play over and over in my head.”
Beau slid his palm up her back and cupped her curls. He pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. “Oh, baby,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t understand for a long time,” she whispered, “but in high school, I took a psychology class and I realized that my mom was mentally ill. I started reading everything I could find on the topic and it brought me a lot of closure, but I’m still haunted by her words.”
“I bet you are, Palmer. Your mother was supposed to set the standard for how other people treated you and she failed you miserably. That’s so unfair, honey.”
“She used to tell me that…” Palmer trailed off, unsure if she could even whisper the words.
“What did she say, pretty baby?”
“She used to tell me that she was the only person who would ever love me b-because I was so bad. Some days it’s easier to believe it than to fight it.”
Suddenly Palmer’s fear of being bad made much more sense. Beau’s heart ached with her. “I know, honey, but now that you’re here at the Ranch, you have people helping you fight those ugly lies.” He pulled her closer.
Palmer smiled, like it was the first time the thought occurred to her. “Yeah.” She nodded, her eyes hopeful.
For several long moments, she was quiet, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
“I think you’re right, though. It is time I started living too. Maybe we can do it t-together.”
Beau smiled big and wide before pressing his forehead to hers. “Together, pretty baby.”
Palmer let their foreheads rest together for a bit longer before she slowly climbed from his lap.