Page 33 of Her Righteous Protector

“Hannah, will you look at me?” he asked hoarsely. She looked up into gray eyes that were the same exact color and shape as Zephyr’s; only now, Max’s were dark and pleading. “I know that the most important person in all of this is Zephyr. He’s got to be devastated at losing Meggie, and I want to be there for him and help ease his pain. But…”

His expression turned to stone.

“But you’re mad at Meghan,” she finished for him.

Max catapulted off the bench. “Fuck, Hannah. I don’t think there has been a word created to describe the kind of fury that is roiling around in my gut,” he bit out harshly. He started pacing in front of the bench, and for the first time, Hannah noticed what a big and powerful man Maxwell Hogan was. She knew nothing about him except what she’d learned today. He had to lead a physical lifestyle. He oozed power. He was wearing a cream-colored fisherman’s sweater, black jeans that molded to his muscled thighs, and then she noticed again that he was wearing work boots, which had seemed odd when she’d seen them in Elias’ office.

Max went on. “If she were in front of me now, I’d be demanding to know what her thinking was. Was there something about me that made her think I would be a bad father? And if there was, what right did she have to make that judgment?”

“Max, no!” Hannah cried out. “I’ve just met you today, but I was already wondering why Meghan didn’t want to continue seeing you after Tennessee.”

He stopped pacing and stared down at her, his eyes pinning her to her seat. “You’re not just saying that?”

Hannah shook her head. “You’re polite, you’re protective, and even now you’re trying to get your head on straight about Meghan so you can be there for Zephyr. Then there’s how kind and take-charge you were with me in the ladies’ room. What? We’ve known each other for five hours and I know and like more about you than most of the men that I’ve dated in the last four years.”

Max let out a deep breath and sat back down next to Hannah. He picked up her hand between both of his. “Thank you. Thank you for that. This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and in my job, I have to deal with the impossible. Are you willing to be on my team?”

For the first time in hours, Hannah felt hope.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes I do,” was his solemn answer. He looked down at his watch. “We only have twenty-five more minutes. Can you help me understand Meghan?”

“I’ll try.” Hannah took a deep breath.

11

Hannah’s hand felt like ice. “You’re cold, should we go inside?” Max asked.

Her beautiful chestnut hair flew around her shoulders as she shook her head. “No, my mother will just interrupt with her own point of view. It won’t help.”

Max chafed her hand between his, trying to provide some warmth.

She turned her head and pressed her face close to his. “Nobody could have loved Zephyr more than Meghan,” Hannah said fiercely. “Nobody. So no matter what else I have to say to you Max, you have to hang on to that, okay?”

Max nodded.

She searched his face and must have seen something that eased her mind because she started talking again.

“Meghan’s parents are horrible people. I don’t know how in the hell she could have come from Bob and Peggy Lancaster. I met Meghan when I was in third grade when I joined a soccer team in Evanston. My dad had researched the coaches and Mr. Bailey was apparently the best. Dad always wanted the best of everything, so that’s why he ended up carting me all the way to Evanston for practice.”

“Okay,” Max nodded. He really wanted her to hurry this along. He didn’t need chapter and verse of their childhood, but if Hannah thought this was important, he’d go with the flow.

“Meghan didn’t have any of the gear that the rest of us had, no shin guards or cleats, but she was the best player on the team, so the coach got her some. The other girls knew that he did and they made fun of her. She always came to practice in the same clothes. It took me a while to understand that meant she was poor.”

Her bright green eyes burrowed into his, trying to make him understand that what she was saying was important, so he nodded again.

“She always walked to the field for practice. It was close to her house, but when we had games at other schools she sometimes didn’t make it. Then Coach Bailey started driving her. One time her dad drove her. He was awful. He yelled at her from the sidelines. He told her to move her fat ass faster, that she fucked up by not getting the ball, and no daughter of his should be such a shitty player.”

“How old were the two of you?”

“Eight.”

“He actually said that? Yelled that?” Max asked, wanting to make sure of his facts.

Hannah nodded. “The referee stopped the game and tried to throw him out, but he refused to leave until some of the other fathers, including my dad, got involved and forced him back into his car and he drove away.”

Max had seen things like this when he was in foster care.