And my mother’s confessions? I’d felt sympathy for her regarding the forced marriage and the scumbag husband. I knew all too well how it felt to be in that position. I couldn’t judge her for that. She’d been nineteen or twenty when my grandfather had basically bribed her into marrying the bottom dweller. I’d gone along with my forced engagement at first too.
For a few moments today, I’d felt a bond with her, a shared experience. But stealing my ring? I wasn’t sure if I could forgive or forget that one.
That one decision of hers had affected me and my life more than it ever could’ve hurt Felix James. Sure, his weak little ego had probably been wounded when he’d figured out she’d gotten the ring in the end, but he’d turned it around, used it to hurt Luke’s mother, Luke, the rest of his family, and me, whether he’d known that or not.
What might have become of Luke and me if that hadn’t happened?
“Probably nothing,” I said out loud as I paced my cozy office. “Because obviously Luke is a jerk.”
The one thing I couldn’t make sense of was why Felix would lie about Luke’s mom. That underhanded man had a reason for everything he did, an underlying, destructive objective.
Thunder crashed out of nowhere again, this time so loud it had to be really close. I jumped, then pressed my hand to my chest as my heart raced. I hurried into my private bathroom, tucked behind my office, seeking the safety of a windowless room, and sat on the closed toilet lid, waiting for the next boom. At least when I closed the door, I couldn’t see the lightning.
I took out my phone to check the weather app, wanting a heads-up if I was going to die in my dinky bathroom from a tornado.
The app told me there was a thunderstorm warning and that rain was expected for the next several hours with several storms coming and going. The radar didn’t show the rain letting up even a little for me to get home. I was stuck by myself to ride it out yet again.
With the next clap of thunder, the room went dark, and my stress level skyrocketed. Within seconds, the electricity came back on, but not before I was thrown back in time to my childhood. How many times had a storm freaked me out and had me running to my parents’ room, only for them to send me back to my room at the other end of the house all alone? They’d offered me nothing but an empty reassurance that the storm would be over soon and insist we were fine.
I hadn’t felt fine. I’d ridden out so many storms terrified and alone, whether I was four years old or fourteen. Or thirty-five, it turned out.
My self-centered parents were still affecting me today, biological or not.
At that thought, I stood and whipped the bathroom door open with enough force it bounced back at me. I was not Felix James’s daughter. I was no longer under his thumb. I didn’t have to huddle up by myself and cower from thunderstorms. I didn’t have to be afraid. That was the old me, the one he’d conditioned me into, but I didn’t have to remain the same for the rest of my life.
I went to the outer room and, through the glass door, watched the rain come down. It wasn’t as intense now, but the lightning show was nonstop, and thunder rumbled almost constantly. At least it was less loud for the most part.
I could sit there in my lonely office, huddled in the bathroom, and continue to be that traumatized little girl whose parents didn’t see fit to comfort her during a storm, or I could face up to this fear and hurry over to the Fly to be among people, probably lots of them. Maybe I could even find a matchup for a game of pool.
After the day I’d had, I needed people and noise and a distraction—from the storm, my mother, and Luke.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I went back in the bathroom to grab my rain jacket.
Back at the outside door, I watched the light show, my eyes wide. There weren’t many people out and about, but there were some. They weren’t afraid of being struck by lightning or having a branch fall on them. Which, come to think of it, there weren’t any big trees between here and the Fly.
Screw it. I took in a deep, shaky breath, heart still racing, and with a mental eff off to Felix James, I went out into the wild weather, locked my door behind me, and ran toward the bar.
Chapter Ten
Luke
By the time I got back to the farm and replaced the belt on the riding mower so it was ready for tomorrow’s final orchard mow of the season, I was nearly an hour late for dinner.
This was the one night I hadn’t wanted to be late, as Addie was calling it daddy-daughter date night.
I jogged through the rain from the large-equipment outbuilding toward the house, beyond exhausted. The day had been extra busy as we transitioned from putting the orchard to bed for the winter and gearing up for the holiday onslaught Christmas-tree season would bring. The morning was spent removing any diseased pine trees before the infestation could spread. I’d split the afternoon between helping Scotty repair some of the deer fencing, teaching Gage to maintain the roads the public would use to access the tree farm this year—and now possibly weddings—and squeezing in one more interview to round out our seasonal crew.
The trip to town for errands was supposed to be short and sweet, but then I’d made the mistake of delivering that check to Magnolia in person. Had I known the bombshells she would drop, I would’ve figured out how to pay her electronically.
I hadn’t had the opportunity to think through anything she’d told me, as I’d rushed home and immediately immersed myself in the mower repair, but the weight of what she’d explained pressed down on me.
Later. I’d allow those thoughts in much later, when the day was over and my little girl was tucked in for the night.
I opened the back door to the house and was instantly hit by two things—the mouthwatering aroma of tacos and my daughter coming at me full speed.
“Daddy!” She hugged me around the waist before I could take my wet flannel shirt off.
“Hey, doodlebug, you’re going to get drenched.”
