Page 38 of Holding Ground

“’Stache?” Emelia asks, glancing at me.

“My brother, Ansel…he’s the reason for every unusual word you hear out of Baylor.”

“He says Daddy has half a ’stache.”

Emelia studies me, and I force myself to remain still.

“Oh yeah, because the ’stache is longer than the rest of your beard?” She turns back to Baylor, and I can finally breathe again. “I don’t know, Baylor. I kind of like it. I think it suits your dad.” Her gaze holds on mine for a beat longer than necessary, and there’s no way that’s my heart thumping.

“You wouldn’t say that if you had to kiss him,” Baylor grumbles. “Kiss him and you’ll see it’s itchy.”

I almost spit my drink all over the table.

Emelia’s face heats, turning a beautiful shade of pink—one I’d like to see when she’s under me. “I think I’ll just take your word for it.” She ruffles the top of Baylor’s hair, and Baylor shrugs innocently.

The rest of dinner goes by without any more inappropriate remarks from my daughter, thank God.

When Emelia excuses herself to use the bathroom, I clear the plates. I’m rinsing them in the sink when Baylor calls my name. I turn off the tap and turn to face her, leaning back against the counter.

“That was fun. Can Emelia have dinner with us every night?”

I clear my throat, then blow out a breath, needing to keep my daughter’s expectations clear. “She can if she’s here and she wants to, but you can’t make her feel like she has to. Emelia has her own life, kiddo. Don’t forget, she’s going to be leaving in a couple of months. She’s not sticking around.”

Baylor frowns. I hate it, but if I’m going to stop her from being heartbroken, I need her to stay unattached.

“But I don’t want her to go anywhere.”

“I know. But she is.”

She’s leaving, I say to myself. Because I need the reminder too.

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Emelia

For five minutes, I stare at the comment on my Facebook post. A riot of emotions fights it out inside me to see which comes out on top. Will it be tenuous excitement? Guilt? Shame? Relief?

I knew Tanya in high school. DM me if you want.

This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? Isn’t this the exact reason I put the message up in the first place? If that’s the case, why am I so conflicted right now?

Because if you message this woman, there’s no going back.

Before I can second-guess myself, I pick up the phone and call Trey. If anyone might understand what I’m going through, it will be him.

He picks up on the second ring. “Oh, so you are still alive. I wasn’t sure, given how you never call me back.” Trey’s tone is playful, but there’s meaning behind it.

“Sorry. Crazy few days. There was a big storm, and a tree came down on the bunkie, and so now I’m living in the main house.”

There’s a brief pause. “With the cute daughter and the dad who hates you?”

“Yeah, pretty much. But that’s not why I’m calling. I need to talk to you about something else.”

He must sense something because he doesn’t push me, letting me change the subject. “Okay…”

First, I tell him about the call from the doctor.