“Well, don’t. She made that choice and she has no one to blame but herself.” Emerson ran a hand over her face. “I know I should be happy for you, but I just feel so betrayed that you hid this from me for two months.”
And probably threatened by the revelation since Emerson only had Charlotte. They only had each other.
Until now.
“I thought we were close.” Emerson wrapped her arms around her waist.
Charlotte touched her sister’s shoulder. “Emmie, we are. I didn’t intentionally hide it from you—I just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. Can’t you understand that?”
“How do you think this would’ve made Dad feel? After all he did for you?”
She didn’t appreciate the guilt trip. “He’ll always be my dad. There’s nothing that can change that.”
“Then why go looking for your real father?”
Charlotte stiffened. “Dadwasmy real father.”
“Then why do you need this other man in your life?”
“Because I’m curious about where I came from. I know your mom leaving was awful, but at least you know who she is. What she was like. Your dad told you stories about her. I know nothing about my biological father. I feel like half of me is a complete mystery.” Charlotte raised her voice. “Who am I even?”
“That’s ridiculous! You’ve always known exactly who you are. You were probably the only teenager in the history of the world who never had an identity crisis.”
“Well, I’m having one now!”
Nine
A warm breeze blew through the valley, carrying scents of pine, grass, and horseflesh. Gunner finished his sandwich and took a swig of water. He’d found a nice bale of hay on which to enjoy his lunch. A makeshift office was next to the tack room, but the barn was warmer, and no matter how clean you kept the stalls, the odor of manure pervaded.
He was a little tired today. Last night after supper he’d checked in with Mr.Dixon and ended up in a long, challenging game of chess. The elderly man had kept him entertained with stories of his misspent youth and some sneaky chess moves that kept Gunner on his toes. It had been almost midnight by the time he’d turned in.
Daisy, a pregnant chestnut mare, whinnied in the pasture where she was grazing peacefully. Midnight snorted from his stall. Gunner was giving the horse attention in small doses, getting the quarter horse used to him. Earning bits of trust. It would likely be a long process with the high-strung horse, but Gunner was a patient man.
The sound of hammering trickled down the slope from the building site. It seemed they might finish the framework today. He was excited for his boss. She was obviously determined to make a go of this place, and he saw no reason she couldn’t succeed. He’d do everything in his power to ramp up this training program before he left.
He finished the chips, put the wrappers in his bag, and tossed it in the office trash can. Since he had a few minutes till he had to meet Charlotte for the trail ride, he stopped by Midnight’s stall. He stood at the gate, speaking softly while the horse tossed his head and pawed the ground.
By the time the gelding finally quieted, five minutes had passed. Gunner had better go find Charlotte. “See you later, buddy.”
He headed out of the barn and up the gentle slope. His eyes locked on the house, and adrenaline flooded his system at the sight.
Black smoke drifted from one of the windows. The acrid smell, though faint, burned his nostrils. Singed his thoughts. Stirred up memories long dead and buried.
Charlotte.
He was charging toward the house before he’d told his legs to move. His feet ate up the ground in seconds, and he burst through the front door, vaguely aware of Charlotte and someone else.
“Fire! Get out of here!” He flew past them and toward the west end of the house, busted through the door and into the kitchen just as the smoke alarm began blaring.
Smoke rolled from the oven door.
He stopped, his chest heaving with breaths. Thank God. Just something burning. He strode to the oven, turned it off,and opened the door. More smoke rolled out, consuming him in a pungent cloud. He coughed as he rooted through a drawer for an oven mitt.
Charlotte appeared at his side, donning a mitt. She removed the charred remains from the smoky cavern.
What was she doing in here? “I told you to get out!” he yelled over the blaring alarm.
Her eyes sharpened on him. “It’s just a loaf of burnt bread.”
