Chapter 24
Kade
Leah had fallen asleep against me on the couch. Now I could barely sleep knowing she was down the hall, already rethinking this idea. I’d fought too hard for her to stay to make some other arrangement now. It was done, for better or worse. When she wasn’t here I still thought about her, so what was the difference?
It was just before six and it didn’t seem there’d be any more sleep on the horizon. I got up and headed into the main living area, where the smell of coffee hit me like a siren’s song.
It wasn’t even dawn, but Leah had always been an early riser, probably made worse by staying here on the ranch.
I grabbed a coffee and my attention was drawn to motion on the front porch. She was on the swing in the soft light of predawn.
I was drawn out the door by her presence and moved to stand in front of the swing. I looked at the empty side of the seat, and she tilted her head in invitation. I settled onto it and she tucked up her toes under the blanket. I took over rocking as if this were something we’d been doing for years. I definitely needed to watch getting too at ease. It was strange how quickly a habit could form, and that could lead places I couldn’t go, or at least shouldn’t go.
“I’m glad you kept this swing,” she said.
“I’m surprised you recognized it.” It had been sanded down and repainted since she’d sat on the porch of the old ranch.
“How could I not?” She ran a finger over a knot that marred the third board.
She had always paid attention to every little detail. Every little change in someone’s mood. It had always amazed me how she took in every single thing around her. I’d never been surprised that she’d been successful in life after she left here.
Which was why it was so confusing that she’d taken that painting. She hadn’t needed it. She’d been a rock star in her field. All the biggest brands had been trying to hire her. Nothing about this situation made any sense.
She glanced over at me, and I tried to wipe the thought from my mind, afraid I’d give away some detail of where my mind had gone.
“You always such an early riser?” I asked.
“You already know the answer to that.”
“I just figured that living in a big city might’ve changed you.”
“You mean like I’d be up all night partying and sleeping all day?”
“Isn’t that what you city folk do?” I asked, smiling.
“The only time I stayed up late was to work.” She pulled a knee up to her chest, wrapping her arms around it. “About yesterday, I didn’t… I don’t know what that was exactly, but––”
“Nothing happened yesterday but your heat breaking.”
She didn’t move for a second and then gave me the slightest nod. She dropped her head, running a hand over the arm of the swing. “This is very belated, but I’m sorry I missed your father’s funeral.”
I jerked my head so fast in her direction that I could’ve given myself whiplash. It was the last thing I’d expected to hear from her. If my shock showed, she didn’t seem to notice.
“I didn’t expect you to come.” Her eyes flickered and her mouth turned down a little. By the time my father passed, we’d stopped talking. “You were in New York,” I added, trying to soften my slip.
Everyone had liked him. He was that kind of guy. Maybe a bit rough in looks and manners, but gold where it counted. I still ached when I thought of him, even now, and probably always would.
“He was a kind man. I wanted to be there for him. To say goodbye.” She gripped her coffee mug tight in her hands.
There was something about the way she said wanted that made me wonder exactly what had stopped her. It sounded a little like it hadn’t just been geography. But we were once again in a place of peace, and I desperately didn’t want to fight with her right now. It was wearing me down, exhausting me and keeping me awake at night. It felt like being at odds with her was ripping apart my very being.
“You were good to him in life. He knew you cared for him. That matters more than anything else you could’ve done after he passed away,” I said.
When my father had started getting really bad at the end and had a hard time getting around, she used to bake baskets of muffins for him and bring them by at least once a week. When he got so bad he’d had a hard time even getting out of bed, she’d bring him a chessboard or cards and play with him for hours.
I’d been working the ranch from dawn to dusk a lot of those days, trying to keep the bills paid, and that help had meant the world to me.
And then one comment from the banker that had echoed what I’d said to her, and I’d turned on her without any real proof. The longer the situation sat with me, the more it felt like I was sitting on a bed of nails.
What if it had all been a plant from an ill-intentioned asshole of a stepfather? What if she had repeated my words in passing to Monroe, and her stepfather Edwin had heard them? Should I really have crucified her? I’d dwelled for so long on the bad, held on to that part of her for so long, that these buried good memories were like little shocks to the system as they fought their way to the surface.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive topic in an effort to make myself feel better.” She stared at me, reading the concern, if not the actual cause.
“It’s not you. I think of him every day whether he’s mentioned or not, especially on mornings like this. He loved sitting here and watching the sunrise.”
“I remember.” She was still trailing her fingers over the wood of the armrest and gazing out at the sky.
There had been mornings I’d be getting up to work and she’d already be out on the porch with my father. Sometimes she was here so much that it seemed like she’d moved in. I used to wonder what it had been like over at her house that she was always coming here, as if sitting with one dying man and one overworked kid had been preferable. There were so many memories now that I let myself think on them. I was starting to feel like I’d had self-inflicted amnesia.
The silence settled in again.
I let it drag out a few more minutes before I said, “I was thinking about inviting your parents and brother here for a weekend. Monroe has been worried about you. I’m sure it would make your mother feel better if you all got together.”
The hand that had been absently rubbing the wood stopped, and her eyes shifted to me and then away, as if she were trying to hide whatever emotion lay behind them.
“Why would you do that?” she asked. “It seems like a lot of trouble for you.”
“I was just thinking it might be nice for your mother to come out. It’s got to be hard for her, and I still care for the woman. Of course, I’m sure you’ll want to see both of them, and it’ll be easier on your mother to have your stepfather to travel with.”
She stiffened when I mentioned her stepfather, and I had to sit calmly, forcing my hands not to curl into fists.
She shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. She hates flying and she’d feel compelled to say yes if you ask. I really wouldn’t do that.”
“I’ll just put out a soft invite, no pressure,” I said.
It wasn’t her mother I was trying to pressure, after all. Feeling like I was in the dark, that there might be so much more going on with her situation than I knew, was becoming intolerable.
“No.” She got to her feet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. She’ll feel compelled to come if you offer.”
“I think?—”
She spun. “It’s my family. It should be my call, and I’m saying no.”
She turned and walked back into the house.
So much for keeping the peace. I felt like the asshole everyone else thought I was for pushing her for a reaction.
I didn’t follow her right away, mostly because I was barely keeping myself calm. She hadn’t seemed to notice. She was too riled to see that I was right at the edge with her. What had happened with her stepfather? How could the world think so highly of him, and yet he was involved in this dark underbelly no one knew of? What else did no one know?
It was becoming clearer that Leah might know, though. I wanted to ask her, wanted to grab her and force her to tell me everything, but she wouldn’t. She’d trusted me once, but that was so many years ago, and so much had gone on between then and now that it might as well have never been. I’d obliterated any residue of trust since she got here.
Please, don’t let me have misjudged her. If I found out I’d piled on when she needed me…
A few more minutes passed before I followed her inside. By then she was sitting on the couch, tugging on her boots, her hands looking steadier, the emotions in her eyes shuttered and locked away.
“I don’t care if you’re mad. I’m not changing my mind, and it’s my call,” she said.
Okay, maybe she had been reading my temperature. She was simply wrong about what had triggered it. I had to calm down. The last thing I’d meant to do was get her upset. I probably shouldn’t have pushed at all. But this was Leah, and I’d never been able to leave things alone when it came to her. Never.
“It’s your choice. I’ll let it go. I’m just distracted about some other business. One of the suppliers is trying to overcharge me. Has nothing to do with you.”
She nodded, her spine relaxing, and I could visibly see the pressure that had built being released from her shoulders.
All I wanted to do was hug her, ask her what had happened, but I couldn’t.
She glanced my way a few times as she got to her feet. “It’s getting late. I need to go get changed and start work,” she said, before turning as if to leave.
“Your stuff was moved into the closets in the bedroom you slept in last night. I moved it while you were sleeping.”
Her lips parted, and it looked as if she were going to say something. Then she nodded and turned to walk down the hall instead.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
Accountant: It’s done. No idea why you would want to do this, but it’s your money to throw away.
I’d just finished reading that message when I got another one.
Monroe: One of your contacts came through. I can’t believe that they’re willing to take on the loan for no percentage. They said they make something, but I don’t understand how. Either way, thank you. I can’t wait to tell Leah.
Nope, I’d be making nothing, but I was glad my man hadn’t told him that.
“Before you start work, you need to call Monroe. He said he’s got news,” I said to Leah as she walked back into the living room.
She looked up, her eyes widening. Her chest began to rise and fall faster.
“I think it’s good,” I said.
She turned and headed into the office. She didn’t shut the door behind her, probably figuring I’d follow. I didn’t. I already knew what the conversation would be.