Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
H ey, kids. Want a cup of tea?” Eryn’s dad stood by the counter, kettle in hand, as Maxwell ushered Eryn into the duplex the Ralstons shared.
“Good evening, Keith.” Maxwell toed off his damp shoes. “Sure, sounds good. Eryn?”
She unzipped her jacket, and Maxwell slid it off her shoulders and hung it before removing his own.
“Sure.” She smiled at her father. “Thanks, Dad.”
Keith reached into the cupboard for two more mismatched mugs.
“How are things going up at the farm?”
Yeah, Maxwell knew the farming operations were part of the ranch and not their own thing, but they were more behind the scenes. Some dude ranches brought roping and roundups to the forefront and let tourists experience the whole range of ranching life, but Sweet River Ranch had been more of a resort when Grandfather bought it.
Weston hadn’t pushed for inclusion. They’d been too short-staffed, at least with the kind of seasoned cowboys that could handle the confluence of cattle and tourists.
Meanwhile, they’d kept the cows, since Joseph had been instated for over a decade and knew what he was doing. Plus, there was all the rangeland, and it seemed wasteful not to put it to good use. The cow-calf operation paid for itself and brought in some extra.
“The farm is going well. We shipped a couple of truckloads of calves a few days ago, so the workload is down. But it will increase when the snow flies and Joseph is gone.” Keith shook his head. “My dad made the shift from a mixed farm to wheat when I was a young’un, so I don’t know cows real well. I hope your family hasn’t put your trust in the wrong farmer.”
Maxwell hoped the same, since hiring Keith had been his suggestion. “There are ranchers nearby who can give advice or a hand if you need it. Declan Cavanagh just up the road at Rockstead has a solid reputation. He or one of his boys would likely be happy to answer questions.”
“Good to know. Joseph said the same. He’ll be down in Jewel Lake, so not too far if I’m in over my head.”
The kettle boiled, and Keith poured hot water into the three mugs.
Maxwell touched the small of Eryn’s back and guided her to the table. It wasn’t like he’d stopped by to chat with her father, but being on the man’s good side was preferable.
“One thing I find interesting around here is how much is secured with just a handshake.” Keith set the honey bear and a jar of dry creamer on the table along with three spoons.
Maxwell eyed the creamer. Not a chance was he dumping those chemicals in his tea. “Sullivan Enterprises runs on signed legal contracts.” As did his construction company.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it in a haphazard way. Just if someone says he’ll do something and shakes on it, everyone considers it done.”
“Well, yes.” Maxwell chuckled. “If that’s a new concept, you’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd.”
“I guess I got took a few times and got wary.” Keith nudged the honey bear across the table. “Here you go, Rynie.”
She eyed her dad. “By whom? Larry Groening?”
That was the man who’d bought their farm to save them from bankruptcy, right? The market farmer next door?
“Oh, I didn’t mean Larry. He’s definitely one of the good ones. In a town built around a Bible college, you’d think there would be more like him.”
“My grandfather and my father always taught me that a man’s word is his bond. If you promise something, you deliver it faster and better than your word. You can’t run a hotel empire like Sullivan on handshakes alone, but the addition of a notarized signature only seals what we’ve already said.” Maxwell shrugged and squeezed a little honey into his tea. “We strive to make the written agreement match the verbal one… and then outdo them both.”
“Commendable.” Keith heaped creamer into his cup and stirred.
Maxwell tried not to wince.
“So, your aunt…”
“Beatrice is the company lawyer. She—” Duh. That wasn’t the aunt Keith was talking about. Graham’s parents, Theodore and Beatrice, hadn’t been to the ranch since the wedding, just before the Ralstons had arrived.
Keith frowned. “Beatrice?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to Nadine being my aunt yet, but that’s whom you meant.”
“Right. Sorry.” Keith chuckled. “She seems really nice.”
Maxwell managed not to grin. “I’ve found the same thing.” He was going to make Eryn’s dad strive for every word, though. “What do you think of her, Eryn? You’ve been working with her for over a week.”
“She’s teaching me to make sourdough bread!”
“There you have it.” Maxwell chuckled. “The highest praise possible. Her bread is amazing… another reason I’m not moving back to Chicago any time soon. She’s spoiled me.”
“Oh?” Keith’s eyebrows rose as he glanced between Maxwell and Eryn. “I didn’t realize you still thought of Chicago as home.”
“I don’t know that I do, but it was home for the better part of a decade, and I’ve kept my condo there. I’ve had to rely on some of my suppliers even now, since all the options I’m accustomed to aren’t at my fingertips here. Other than that, Montana is growing on me.”
“I was hoping you weren’t pulling a bait-and-switch on my daughter. She’s been through enough.”
“Dad!”
Maxwell reached for Eryn’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “No, sir. I’m quite attached to both Montana and to your daughter.”
A flush shot up Eryn’s cheeks, and she looked down.
“But you’ve kept your condo?” Keith looked between them. “I feel it’s my duty as her father to make sure you’re not toying with her.”
“I would never.”
“Dad, I’m right here. Don’t talk about me as though I’m not.”
“Rynie, I know you’re taken by this guy, but you don’t have a lot of experience to judge him by. Dave was?—”
“Dad!” Eryn shot to her feet, dropping Maxwell’s hand. “Just because I’m not Amelia doesn’t mean I’m gullible.”
Just who was Dave?
“Amelia?” Keith’s brows pulled together as he frowned. “What does she have to do with this? She’s not part of this.”
“She had a crush on Maxwell when we were all kids.”
“I didn’t know you two confided in each other.”
Wait, what? Maxwell had figured that the twins hadn’t been all that close, but if her father assumed they wouldn’t have talked about boys they liked, it had to be worse than he’d thought. But maybe it had been obvious. Amelia’s fixation on Maxwell had lasted well into high school before she figured out she might as well date other guys, since he wasn’t asking. He’d even turned her down for the Sadie Hawkins dance their sophomore year.
Keith shook his head, looking confused. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant. You don’t need to announce to anyone, let alone Maxwell, how little I’ve dated.”
“I’m sorry, Rynie. I didn’t mean it that way.” He grimaced into his teacup. “You know, I think I’ll just go to bed. I don’t know if it’s the altitude or the early mornings around here, but I’m about done for.”
“I should head out, too.” Maxwell rose as Keith did and reclaimed Eryn’s hand. Whatever mood they’d built during the stroll from the lodge was well and truly gone. Bryce had ruined dinner… okay, maybe Maxwell had done that himself by being late. And now Keith’s seemingly well-intentioned comment soured this moment.
Keith’s gaze lingered on his daughter for a moment, solidifying Maxwell’s realization he was the third wheel and needed to give them time to clear the air without him overhearing any more. Then Keith disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door.
“Hey.” Maxwell turned to Eryn and slid his hands around her waist. “Don’t worry about your dad. I think a father’s job to take care of his kids never ends.” Not that James Sullivan was that sort, but Maxwell could see the tendency in most of the men he knew. He dropped a gentle kiss on Eryn’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.” Her gaze ricocheted off his as she bit off a sigh.
Man, he hated to leave her like this, but what could he do? She needed to convince her dad she was an adult capable of making her own choices. Given their family history, that would likely take more than one conversation, and Maxwell couldn’t do anything to help.
He hated having his hands tied. He was a guy who made things happen.
Could this evening have been more of a disaster?
Eryn lowered herself back into the chair after Maxwell left and cradled her inflamed face in her hands. Oh, the mortification.
The bathroom door opened, and footsteps approached. “Eryn?”
“How could you, Dad? I feel like I’m 13 again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? That’s all I want to know. Why did you feel the need to humiliate me like that?”
“I didn’t realize.” Dad sighed. “It’s just… I didn’t realize back in Kansas just how powerful this family is. Maxwell getting me this job seemed like a nice gesture. Sure, I knew they were rich. I mean, there have been Sullivans in Gilead for decades, but men raised in so much luxury have certain expectations of young women?—”
“You’re mixing Maxwell up with Bryce.”
“Maybe.” Dad gripped Eryn’s shoulder. “I wanted to send him a message that he can’t get away with hurting my little girl. You’re all I have left.”
“So, you decided to hurt me to prevent him from hurting me?” She jerked away from his grasp and stood facing him. “That’s all kinds of messed up.”
“He needs to think twice,” Dad retorted obstinately. “You heard what he said about keeping his home in Chicago.”
Eryn shoved the thought aside, though it had jolted her, too. “I’m going to bed, unless you want me to tell you all the reasons not to look at Nadine the way you do. She’s part of that family, too, you know.”
“She didn’t grow up spoiled by all their money.”
“It doesn’t stop her from having access to it now. And Maxwell isn’t spoiled. He could have had everything fed to him on a silver spoon like Bryce, but he started his own business and worked for it.”
“He does seem to be a more upright man than his brother.”
“Exactly.” Eryn marched into the bathroom and, when she came out a few minutes later, Dad had gone into his bedroom. She mounted the ladder to the loft, still fuming.
Read the Bible or more of Amelia’s journals? She didn’t want to be comforted or challenged, so why not poke at her childhood to see if it still hurt?
Okay, that thinking was just as mixed up as the whole evening had been. Still, Eryn changed into her pajamas and pulled the top journal out of her drawer. Where was she? She’d read Amelia’s thoughts on their mother’s death a couple of nights ago, and for the first time in forever, she’d felt a kinship with her twin.
Amelia had grieved, as Eryn had. They’d both lost their mom at a vulnerable age.
November 18, 2008
It’s Max’s birthday today, and he’s 14 now. Practically an adult! [three heart emojis]
Eryn stilled. Amelia had known Maxwell’s birthday? Not that it would have been a huge secret, most likely, but Eryn hadn’t remembered it. She turned back to the text.
I told him how sad I was about Mom’s death. I even cried a little, and he did what I wanted him to do! He gave me a hug and said he was sorry.
Eryn glowered at the page. She really should have burned the journals before they moved. She might have blasted Dad for bringing Amelia into the conversation, but she was just as guilty, since she kept inviting her twin’s juvenile thoughts into her current life.
I said I was worried about being alone someday (Eryn doesn’t count) and asked if he’d marry me if we got old, like 30, and no one else had. I knew it was a silly thing to ask, but he said, sure, why not?
Does that make me engaged to Maxwell Sullivan at age 13? [three heart emojis] Am I supposed to try to find some other guy to marry later or hold out for him? I should have said 25! Or maybe 21, because I doubt I’ll ever meet anyone as dreamy as Max. [heart eye emoji]
Eryn slapped the cover shut and surged to her feet. The loft wasn’t very big. It took only 11 steps to get to the other end. And back. And forth. She couldn’t believe the gall of her sister, playing off Maxwell’s sympathy after Mom’s death. Then there was that whole bit about Eryn not counting. What did that even mean? Yeah, they hadn’t been close, but had Amelia said those words to Maxwell? Had she actually verbalized, “I feel so alone, and Eryn doesn’t count.”? Or was it merely an aside in her journal?
Oh, the humiliation. The pain of being the annoying sister. All Eryn had ever wanted was to be friends with her twin. She’d been rebuffed at every turn, from her earliest memories on, until she’d mostly stopped trying.
She remembered reaching for Amelia at Mom’s funeral, but her sister had sidestepped her and turned away, doubling Eryn’s pain that horrible day.
And tonight, the stab of Amelia’s knife twisted again.
What did Maxwell say repeatedly? How his word was his bond. That if he said he’d do something, consider it done.
Did he remember the promise he’d made to Amelia 15 years ago? Sure, it was no longer valid, since Amelia was dead, but would she have beckoned him with her pinky and reminded him of their marriage pact? Would Mr. Keeps-His-Promises have made good on it? Could Maxwell Sullivan have become Amelia’s husband? Eryn’s brother-in-law?
Eryn couldn’t have this sort of attachment, these feelings, for her brother-in-law. Not that he’d married Amelia or even been in contact most of those years, but the fact that he’d made this sort of promise even as a kid made Eryn’s stomach turn.
What now?
She’d never sleep. There was no point in even trying.
She was 28 years old, still lingering in her dead sister’s shadow. How could she kiss the man who’d made promises to her twin?