Page 11 of Hearts at War

“We need a good night of sleep,” he said.

“Easier said than done,” I groused.

“Eh, just scroll on your phone until your eyes tire out. That’s how Wendy beats insomnia sometimes.”

I shrugged. “I’ve tried that before.” With my phone on my mind, though, I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the notifications. At the top of the screen was a line noting an email that came into my inbox.

From her.

It was strange how a pronoun could offer so much meaning with the correct emphasis. In this case, anger. Annoyance. Irritation. All of the above applied to my ex. I wondered if I would ever get to the point where I could say her name and not taste a burn of acid in my mouth. If the syllables that made up her name would ever fail to make my gut tighten with fury.

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked, noticing that I sneered at my phone.

“She emailed me, again. Or rather, she forwarded a lawyer’s email to me.” I didn’t bother to open it again and skim the contents. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Veronica would be a terminal curse on my soul, pestering me and bothering me until the end of our days.

Our vows of ’til death do us part were severed when we divorced three years ago, but I suspected that her commitment to making my life a living hell would be a lifelong goal.

“Delete it,” Gavin advised.

I ignored it instead, shoving my phone back in my pocket as I rubbed my hand over my face.

“You don’t have to let her keep harassing you—”

I looked up when he stopped speaking. Following his line of sight and wondering what made him go quiet so suddenly like that, I narrowed my eyes out the windshield.

“And I don’t have to let whoever that is harass me either,” I growled.

The silhouette of a woman greeted me.

Someone had opened the front door to my cabin. My sanctuary. The little corner of this world where I wanted to be left in peace and quiet.

“Now what?” I said as Gavin parked.

What the hell is wrong now?

Something had to be wrong, because there was no way in hell I’d ever allow someone to think they had permission to let themselves in on my turf, without my supervision.

After the living hell Veronica put me through with that divorce, I’d fight tooth and nail to guard my privacy and solitude.

Chapter 5

Heather

Todd trusted Eric so well that he didn’t bat an eyelid about me renting one of the ranch hands’ cabins on the Grand River property. While those places weren’t available for just anyone, it seemed that my association with Eric was enough to pass his satisfaction.

“I’ll figure out a rent, hunny,” Todd said with his country drawl. The hunny came out more like hun ya, and somehow, that made it all right. Any octogenarian who could still handle horses and cattle as well as men a quarter his age simply demanded respect.

“Thanks, Todd,” I said.

Before Eric and I left the bar, with a cabin key in hand, Todd squinted at me. “The city didn’t work out for ya?” he guessed.

I sighed, shrugging. No. “Not quite.” Admitting how poorly I fared in Chicago was simply too hard of an admission to tell anyone in town yet.

Outside again, I glanced at the busted door that should’ve led to an apartment above the bakery. The screen door was still hanging there, lopsided and dented.

“So much for that,” I muttered.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Eric walked ahead of me.