Chapter 29 #2
I used to feel jealous of the way other people looked up to him, that to someone else he was even worthy of being looked up to, because the truth is, despite what he is inside this building with these people, to me he’ll forever be the cold and irrationally controlling father who barely looked at me inside our home.
Staring up at the building, at the tinted windows that run along the length of the dark brick walls, I try to smother my dread.
This is the absolute last thing in the world I want to do today, but as I lay awake last night listening to Olivia and Layla’s even breathing from their makeshift beds in the living room, sound asleep, a thought ripped through me so viciously I couldn’t ignore it.
All these fears I hold about running from the people I love .
. . I suddenly wondered if that’s something he might be able to relate to.
If my father didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t have tried to control me so hard.
His parenting strategies were fucked, no doubt about it—but what if he was doing his best in the fallout of our family being torn apart, just like I was?
What if we were both running from each other?
I never so much as gave him an inch. Between my stubborn defiance and his crushing force, there wasn’t an opportunity for us to genuinely connect or communicate about the things we were going through.
And then I thought about the baby growing inside of me, and if—god forbid—something ever happened to make her feel like I wasn’t enough for her .
. . wouldn’t I give anything for a chance to prove her wrong?
It’s completely possible that this goes nowhere, that I’m opening myself to the risk of being hurt by this man all over again. But I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’d deeply regret not trying. This, at the very least, is something I can offer to him and to myself: it’s a chance.
I take a deep breath, and then pull open the door.
The first thing I see when I walk inside is a long desk. A pretty woman with dark hair smiles at me from where she sits behind it, leaning forward to get a better look at me. “Good afternoon, can I help you?”
I give her a polite smile. “Hello. I’m here to see Sheriff Joe Jones. Is he available?”
Her brows pinch. “Is he expecting you?”
I shake my head. “No, but . . . I’m his daughter, and I was just hoping I could drop by and steal some of his time.”
“Oh!” Her face lights up. “Well, isn’t that just peachy keen!
Let me phone his desk line and see if he’s in his office—just one moment.
” I watch her pick up a corded phone and tuck it between her ear and shoulder, dialing the extension to my father’s office.
And then she pauses, looking some place out the window while she waits.
I hold my breath.
“Good afternoon, Sheriff—I have a visitor here for you. It’s your daughter!
Isn’t that nice? Anyway, I just wanted to check that you were in before I send her up.
” A pause. Her eyes flash to mine, and my stomach sinks with lead.
“Of course. Absolutely. Yes, sir. Okay.” She hangs up the phone, and I can barely contain my nerves.
“Is he available?” I ask, hands sweating.
“He’s in the middle of an evidence review but is just wrapping up.” She waves a hand toward a collection of half a dozen chairs against the wall of the lobby. “Why don’t you have a seat? He’ll be down in just a minute.”
I nod, and my heart does a somersault. “Sure, thanks.”
“Can I get you something to drink? Bottle of water? Cup of coffee?”
“Oh, that’s okay,” I say. “I appreciate it, though.”
She smiles. I sit down.
And I wait.
I distract myself with my phone, opening my text thread with Kasey. Checking in, I write. Missed you last night.
His response comes in immediately. Come home, sugar.
I smile. Home . . . what a concept.
“Ava?”
I look up, finding my father in the mouth of the long corridor behind the reception desk. Stuffing my phone back into my purse, I stand. “Hello. Sorry for dropping by unannounced. I hope this is okay?”
His eyes flick to the woman at the desk before moving back to me. “No problem at all. Why don’t you come with me?
I nod, following him up to his corner office on the second floor. I spend a good few minutes looking at the view from the huge window that takes up half the wall, eyes catching on the trees in the distance, knowing that just a few miles farther, my cowboy waits for me.
“Everything okay, Ava?” my father asks, pulling me back into his office, where he stands just behind me.
I turn to face him, forcing a wide smile. “Yes,” I say.
He frowns. “Look, if something’s happened, you can tell me, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’re not wrapped up in any of it—”
“Dad,” I cut him off. “It’s nothing like that. This is . . .” I waver, fidgeting with my fingers. “This is about us. You and me.”
His brows arch high. “Oh.” He nods once.
“Okay. Come have a seat.” He pulls out a chair in front of his desk and waits for me to sit before pulling out the second for himself.
I’m surprised he doesn’t take his seat on the other side of the desk.
Our knees are mere inches apart as he looks at me carefully.
“Thank you,” I say, “for seeing me. I, uh—I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, for not coming to you before the wedding.
I realize that I probably should have made a real attempt to let you know what was happening.
I can’t imagine finding out about something like that from someone else, and it wasn’t fair to you. ”
His eyes widen in surprise as he leans back into his chair. For a while, he just looks at me. But eventually he says, “Thank you, Ava. It means a lot to hear that from you.”
I nod. “I know we haven’t had an . . . easy relationship. But I’m home now. And I like to think I’m a bit more mature than I was when I left. So, I guess what I’m saying is, I would be open. To trying.”
“Trying?”
“To mend things,” I clarify. “Or . . . at least to start fresh.”
His eyes go distant as he raises his gaze to look out the window behind me. When he looks at me again, there’s soft openness, a glimmer of something that feels like hope. “I would like that very much, Ava,” he says. “More than you know.”
This time, my smile is not so forced. “Good. Okay, yeah.” I know there’s more I need to tell him, but I just want to bask in the feeling for a second, still not quite certain it won’t be ripped away from me.
He must sense my hesitation, because he offers something else instead.
“Ava, in the spirit of transparency, I’m going to tell you something that I think you should know. And I want to hear your honest response, okay?”
“Okay.” I nod.
He regards me for a moment before saying, “Huck Bennett is determined to take over the Bennetts’ ranch, and I’ve gotta admit, I’m in support of it.
Bud Bennett has been a thorn in my side since we were kids.
He was a bully in school and a bully in every bar he stepped foot in.
He’s a drunk who always thought he was above the law.
The Bennetts mostly keep to themselves these days, but I’ve had plenty of run-ins with his boys to know the apples don’t fall far. ”
“Dad,” I scoff, immediately defensive. “That’s hardly fa—”
He holds a hand up. “Let me finish, Ava.”
I press my lips together tightly, and wait for him to continue.
“It is my personal belief that Huck’s vision for the land could be really good for this town.
He wants to build a rustic resort to bring in tourists.
He wants to offer excursions like hiking and horseback riding.
He wants to build a whiskey distillery right alongside it.
All of that would be incredible for our economy, and I know Mayor Moore is highly supportive of Huck’s efforts.
That said, I’ve reviewed the trust details extensively, and Huck does not have rights to any of it, what with your marriage to Kasey—if your marriage is real.
“Now, before you say anything, let me tell you this: no matter what, I will protect you. I love you, Ava,” he says roughly, and I notice the sheen of emotion in his eyes.
“I want to keep you safe. I’ve failed you in so many ways, and I know that.
But I’ve always wanted you to be safe. If you’ve gotten wrapped up in something to help Kasey and his family with this problem of theirs, I’ll make sure you stay clear of it.
But if you tell me that it’s all real—if you tell me that you love that boy and you want to be his wife—well, honey, I’m going to choose to believe you.
If that’s what gets us back on some better footing, I’m going to believe you. ”
“I love him, Dad,” I say in a rush. My heart pounds in my throat as I look him in the eye and beg him to hear me. “I love him and I want to be his wife. And . . . I’m going to be a mother, Dad.”
His mouth falls open as his eyes drop to my stomach.
“Yeah,” I say, a watery laugh escaping up my throat. “And you deserve to know that this baby isn’t Kasey’s. I came home pregnant. But Kasey is so happy, I don’t even have the words to explain it. He’s so happy and wants to raise her with me.”
“Her?” The word slips out of his mouth, gaze still fastened to my belly.
“Her,” I confirm, tears falling down my cheeks. “We’re having a baby girl, Dad.”