All about her?
What’s there to say? Exactly how much can she know about her in three days?
Despite myself, my gaze moves to Willow. I’ve seen the woman laugh at my expense. Smirk. Grin. But hell, that smile she’s giving the two of them. It’s a sucker punch to the gut.
She shouldn’t have a smile like that.
She shouldn’t have a voice like that.
Dad’s eyes land on me with a raised brow. Same one I gave him a minute ago. I shake my head lightly. “Don’t ask.”
He nods once. “Fair enough.”
I smirk. Dad never lets things go just like that. This is his way of saying,I won’t if you won’t.
And I’m perfectly OK with that.
Dad helps Ginger with the last step and introduces himself quietly. Willow gives him a soft smile. But it’s notpolite. It’s warm, eyes glimmering with familiarity. Like they share the same interest.
Ellie jumps. “You want to come see my new room with me?”
Willow stretches her hand like a soldier. “Lead the way, Slippers.”
Ellie grabs it like it’s a nickname she’s been responding to for years and drags her through the open doors.
I catch the tail end of Ellie’s laughter—full-bellied and crinkle-eyed—and the lingering sight ofhertwisting playfully to follow, grinning like she belongs. Blending in to our closed circle all too easily.
The hell is happening here?
The tug in my chest is like a threat. And the only way to get rid of it is to gather up her things and make sure she doesn’t miss her flight.
Dad hangs back, pretending to predict the weather as he squints out at the horizon. “Willow is Rose’s friend, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Made quite an impression on your girl.”
Well then, I must’ve met her alter ego.
“Ellie loves everybody,” I lie. Ellie hates her new second-grade teacher—apparently she’s tall and has a lot of rules; the woman at the library, because she stares into space and shushes everybody. And the social worker, Rachel, who thankfully she won’t need to deal with much longer after the custody transfer is final.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You hate everybody,” Dad points out.
“I do not.” My response comes quick and sharp, because I don’t like words like that around Ellie. Especially when it’s me he’s talking about.
How could she ever learn to trust someone who doesn’t like people?
Dad shrugs. “Well, unless they work on this ranch or are related to you. But I remember you bitchin’ about all those times Millie hauled you out on the town—heaven forbid you have a social life outside this ranch.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets. “Thought you weren’t gonna ask.” Dad’s not one to talk in circles, but it’s clear he can’t help himself.
He holds up his hands. “You’re right. I’ll just .?.?. make my own assumptions.” He starts to turn.
“She needed somewhere to stay. And I needed help here.” I step up to the porch. “A .?.?. mutually beneficialshort-termarrangement.”
