CHAPTER SIX
Cara
A knock on my dressing room door snapped me out of the past.
“Come in,” I raised my voice to be heard.
The door opened, and Mitzi Simmins, one of the soloists, poked her head inside. “Hey.” She frowned looking at me. “You’re not ready for the party.”
I looked in the mirror and realized I’d stopped halfway through my makeup removal. I’d been so lost in my thoughts of Edward and me, the time had slipped my mind. I made a face. “Sorry. I’m moving slow. Go on without me, and I’ll catch up.”
“They’re shutting down the theater,” she protested.
“Oh, crap.” I stood up on shaky legs and started dumping all my regular makeup in my bag. “That’s fine. I think I need to go home and clear my head a little before coming anyway.”
She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Would this have anything to do with the gorgeous guy who was sitting next to Nora’s mother out there?”
I gave her a half smile. “Maybe.”
I grabbed the dress I’d brought from home to wear to the party. Now that I knew Edward was going to be there, nothing about it seemed right. I wanted something that would make me look and feel beautiful. And this just wasn’t it.
“I… used to know him.” I finally admitted when I could see that she was waiting on more of a
response from me.
“Can’t wait to hear that story.” She tucked a lock of her shiny brown hair behind her ear and perched on the edge of my vanity.
“I’ll tell you sometime. Just not right now.”
“Right, since we’re about to be locked in here with whatever ghosts come out to play after the lights go out.”
“Ugh,” I laughed, pleased that we were moving back to safer topics, and hurried out of the dressing room. “I don’t want to think about that at all.”
She chuckled and followed me out to the parking lot. We stopped by my car. “You sure you don’t want to just ride out there with me? You could get ready in Nora’s room.”
“I’m not walking by all those people looking like this.”
“Okay, well, get there soon. You don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”
My step wavered, but I just smiled and waved as I got in my car.
I didn’t say anything. I could read between the lines to infer what she wasn’t saying—that the Harts would be displeased if one of the stars of the show was late.
People didn’t keep the Hart family waiting; it was as simple as that.
I had a little extra leeway with them, considering my relationship with Nora, but not much.
Normally, I wouldn’t keep them waiting, either.
But tonight’s circumstances were… different.
It wasn’t every day that the former love of your life showed up at your performance.
But I still didn’t want to talk about it with Mitzi.
Or anyone else. I wouldn’t intentionally hurt any of the Hart family’s feelings.
They’d been good to me over the years, even if they were a little overbearing at times.
Garrison, especially, was a bit much, but I had overlooked that to keep the peace. I was definitely a conflict avoider.
Hopefully I could slip in unnoticed even though I was late. If not, I’d just have to apologize to the Harts later. I didn’t have it in me to hurry through getting ready knowing I’d probably be seeing Edward Ashton for the first time in six years later tonight.
I let those thoughts go as I pulled into the light traffic present on the streets this time of night. Instead, my mind went right back to the summers Edward and I spent together.
***
Cara, seventeen
“Why does almost everyone in town call the farm Hargrave-Whittaker Farms when it’s real name is Wixby River Farms?” Edward asked.
I looked up at the clouds through the thick fronds of my favorite weeping willow tree.
The foliage was so dense, I could barely make any out.
I lay on my back on the quilt I had spread out for Edward and me.
The branches of the tree hung so low to the ground that it was almost impossible for anyone to see us in here.
It was like our own private hideaway. I often hid out in here to have some alone time from the younger kids.
I loved them all to pieces, but they sometimes wore me out.
I flipped over on my stomach and noticed that Edward’s eyes dropped to my cleavage since I was wearing a tank top that showcased it.
I tried not to grin as his face turned pink when he realized I’d seen him checking me out.
He looked away quickly. I might have worn this shirt solely for that reason.
Edward and I had kissed plenty before he left last summer, but so far this summer?
He hadn’t initiated anything. I was starting to wonder if he had a girlfriend off at school that he didn’t want to tell me about.
He was so handsome I could imagine tons of girls were interested in him at his boarding school, and we hadn’t made any promises to each other at the end of last summer. I hadn’t expected him to ignore all other girls for the year because of our handful of kisses.
Even if I didn’t want to think about him with anyone else.
“Well,” I said, “it’s actually a cool story.”
He looked back at me. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “The first part isn’t, I guess, but the rest of it is.
People call it Hargrave-Whittaker Farms because that’s what it was called for, like, a hundred years or something.
People in Wixby got used to calling it that and passed it down.
So, even though the name’s been Wixby River Farms since sometime in the mid-eighteen hundreds, the locals still call it by the original name.
Especially older people. All the places we sell and distribute to know us as Wixby River Farms. They wouldn’t have a clue what we were talking about if we called it Hargrave-Whittaker. ”
His eyebrows were raised. “Mid-eighteen hundreds? How long has this been farmland?”
“That’s the cool part of the story. So, my dad’s ancestor and Hawthorne Whittaker’s ancestor came over from England in the seventeen hundreds.
The Hargrave ancestor was the second son of a duke, and the Whittaker ancestor was the second son of a baron.
This is the way the story’s been passed down, anyway.
“They were both supposed to go into the military, but neither of them wanted to. Instead, they wanted to come to America and farm the land. We don’t know the entire story, but it seems they were disinherited by their families for not doing what they were ‘supposed to’.
” I used air quotes. “They came to America anyway, settled here in Georgia, and bought up all the land they could.”
“Damn… that’s wild. Most families don’t know what happened that far back in their history,” Edward said between bites of one of the cupcakes I’d packed for dessert. “This is delicious, by the way. Where’d you get these?”
“Siobhan made them.”
His eyebrows went up. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “She cooks and bakes with Orla all the time. She wants to go to culinary school one day.”
He opened the picnic basket hopefully. “Are there more?”
I chuckled. “Yes. There are three more in there. Just save me one.”
He held one out to me, but I held up a hand. “I can’t just yet. I’m stuffed. I’ll have mine after a while.” Orla had packed a special charcuterie lunch when I’d told her I wanted to have a secret picnic with Edward. She was the best.
“I can’t believe there were enough that you could bring four. Did you sneak them past Declan or something?”
“Nah. He probably ate a dozen already. She makes about six dozen at a time, but they still disappear in a day.”
“I believe it,” he said right before he stuffed another one in his mouth.
I waited while he chewed. I was growing a little drowsy after eating a big lunch and was having trouble keeping my eyes open.
“Hey,” he said, and I shook myself a little, “are you sleepy?” He had a lazy grin on his face. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and propped himself up with his hands behind him.
“Yeah,” I stretched. “It’s hot, and I’m full.”
“Maybe we can go swimming later.”
“Sure,” I yawned, covering my mouth with my hand.
“Come here,” he said, softly.
I crawled over to him. “What?”
“You can lay with your head in my lap if you want.”
My eyes fixed on his, but I saw no hint of anything to make me think he was thinking particularly sexual thoughts. With most other guys, I’d assume they were asking for a blowjob.
But not Edward. We hadn’t advanced beyond kissing yet.
Not that I thought he didn’t have thoughts like that, it was just that he…
was more mature or respectful or something.
At least with me. I had no clue how he was with other girls.
“Okay.” I laid back on him and settled my head in his lap, closing my eyes.
“So, wait a minute. If your ancestor and the Whittaker’s ancestor were disowned, disinherited, whatever, how did they get the money to buy all this land?”
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “That’s kind of a mystery. Both of them got married not long after immigrating over here, and Dad thinks maybe they both married women with money.” I wrinkled my nose. “That’s not very romantic, though.”
“I guess not,” he agreed, “but just because the women might have been rich wouldn’t mean they didn’t love them.”
“Maybe.” I was doubtful.
“Were they the first settlers of Wixby?”
“No, that was the Parson family. You know that huge old manor house at the top of Wixby Mountain…”
“Oh, I knew that,” he cut me off, shaking his head. “I just forgot. It’s almost like a castle up there.”
“I think they came close to the same time, though. And then there was the Wixby family.”
“Right,” he nodded. “But y’all couldn’t have been far behind them.”
“Probably not,” I said absently. “I think I’ll take that cupcake now,” I said, sitting up and reaching in the picnic basket. “Do you want the last one?”
“Sure,” he grinned. “I’m not going to turn it down.”