When the paralyzing thrum in my chest simmers down, all the fear bursts out into a shrill “What’s with the Rawlings siblings and your gift of making me think I’ll be murdered?”
Jackie grins. “A family quality?”
I splutter with a lack of grace that turns the corner of her lips up.
“Make yourself presentable. My mother is waiting for us in the car,” she says in a tone too upbeat for the kind of terrifying news she just dropped on me.
“What? Your…” I can’t breathe. “Carter’s…. I don’t want to meet his mother!” I wail, exasperated. “No offense,” I continue more quietly.
Jackie plops in the armchair and closes her legs at the knee, brushing invisible lint from her jeans.
“She’s here. I can’t send the woman back, can I? It would be rude. Are you rude, Eliza? Will you send her packing after she traveled all this way?”
“You took the private jet, didn’t you?” I deadpan, but the emotional blackmail is chipping away at my resolve.
“Yeah, but the traffic to the airport was horrendous. We deserve, at least, some good coffee.”
My insides are torn apart by contradicting emotions. Annoyed Jackie has learned so quickly how to read me. Touched she jumped on a plane to visit me.
His mother is here. Why? I can’t shake the feeling I’m walking into a trap.
“At least take her on the back porch. Enjoy the view while I get myself together,” I grumble. “There’s fresh tea in the kitchen.”
Jackie’s smile is worrisome, and she skips out of the house while I retreat to the bedroom. What does one wear for meeting the mother of the man she fell hard for, only to be left with an aching hole in her chest?
It’s shocking how much Jackie resembles her mother. They’re sipping tea and gazing over the lake reflecting the clear blue skies and the forest around it and I get a few seconds to take in the older woman.
Straight back, blonde hair pulled back into an elegant bun, she oozes quiet luxury. Nothing she wears is flashy, but I know her shoes cost more than my old truck. I can’t read her from this distance, her face doesn’t betray anything.
“I’m ready,” I say stepping out, chin held high, pretending this is normal.
“Eliza. My mother, Clara Rawlings. Mother. Eliza Miller,” Jackie introduces us with a flourish that eases the tension in my shoulders.
The woman nods, scanning me with unreadable blue eyes. The shadow of a smile is so faint that I almost miss it. Now I know where Carter got his unnerving analytical gaze. I’m being audited and the worst part is, I want to make a good impression.
“Welcome to Silver Lake Falls, Mrs. Rawlings.”
“Clara is fine.” She waves an elegant hand. “It’s not my first time in the area. Didn’t Carter tell you I grew up around here?”
“He might have mentioned it was the reason you chose my cabin.”
Clara tilts her head. “It looked charming. Warm. I’d hoped he’d find some peace,” she says wistfully and places the empty cup on the porch railing. “But it seems he also found something else.” Clara looks at me meaningfully and Jackie finds a sudden interest in birdwatching.
I know better than to comment, even if the back of my neck is warming up. His mother is testing the waters. It makes me wonder if they’re worried about the family’s privacy and she wants to make sure I don’t talk about his time here.
Clara doesn’t wait for a reply and changes the course of the conversation completely, throwing me for a loop.
“When Carter returned from college, his father made a list of potential wives. Suitable young ladies from good families.” Clara admires her nails. “Our son could only have the best. And the best was what suited the company in the long run.”
The muscle in my jaw strains under the pressure of keeping my mouth shut.
“Doesn’t sound like you, Miss Miller.” Carter’s mom slides her gaze to me, throwing down a challenge she knows I’ll never be able to overcome.
Straight for the kill. She fooled me with her affable country-club-wife act. So she’s worried I’d tarnish her precious son’s future with my less-than-stellar background.
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
