“Y-yeah.”
“Oh, Ez…” There was a rough edge to his voice. “You okay?”
I pinched the skin of my wrist. Nothing. Numb. “I think I’m in shock.”
“I’m coming.”
“No!”
“There’s no way I’m letting you deal with that son of a bitch on your own.”
“The farm!”
“Screw the farm. It’ll be here next week. It’s a frigging farm. It’s not going anywhere.”
“And what about Mim and your dad? How will they cope if another Wolcott just disappears one night? I don’t need to worry about that on top of everything else.”
“Tell me what I can do, Ez.”
I tugged at my ponytail. My mind raced. I needed a day to get my head straight. I needed to talk to my lawyer again and set up everything to protect Matilda’s future—and, selfishly, my own. I’d supported Jeremy through his last years of medical training, and I’d loved him, even if he hadn’t truly loved me. But I wasn’tsticking around to find out the name of the woman who came after Tallulah… or the one after her…
I took a deep breath. “What if we come to you?”
5
That Nervous Afternoon in Winter
Callan
I yanked off thewhite button-up, scrunched it in my fist, and tossed the lump of fabric on the pile of shirts discarded on my bed.
“Should’ve just put on the blue one,” I muttered.
The hanger scraped on the metal railing when I tugged off the fresh shirt. Clumsy fingers got it on, but I fumbled over the buttons until I caught my reflection in the mirror.
“You’re just picking them up from the airport.” I adjusted—and readjusted—the collar. “This is no big deal.”
I frowned at the moron staring back at me in the mirror. Who was I kidding? I’d gone overboard on the cologne, and the get-up I was wearing screamed, “This is a big deal.” The blue-striped button-up paired with dark trousers and the boots I kept polished for the rare occasion Mim dragged me to church proved I was trying too hard, but…
Was that wrong?
I planted my hands on my hips and forced out a slow breath. Yup, it was wrong. Erin needed my support, not my dick. The stupid thoughts I had about making her fall in love with me had to be shoved to the back of my mind until she’d sorted out her divorce.
After fixing my shirt collar—again—I headed for the kitchen.
Mim turned at the sound of my footsteps. The perfectly functioning dishwasher I’d installed sat untouched. The stack of plates in the sink was forgotten, too. Her eyes popped wide.
“That’s a hell of an outfit,” she said.
I avoided her gaze. This was dangerous territory. “I can’t go into Hobart wearing my farming gear.”
“You polished your boots.”
“Uh…”
Mim’s fingernails tapped on the steel sink. “I really think I should come with you.”
No chance in hell was my mother riding shotgun in my truck to the airport. “You’ll be staying right here.” I grabbed the set of keys hanging by the door. “Erin doesn’t need every bloody Wolcott suffocating her right now.”
