Page 93 of Holding Ground

Emelia was left wondering too, and I know how long she’s carried it with her, and how it’s shaped how she sees herself.

“You don’t have to decide today,” Roy says. “Or even next week. But when you do decide, it needs to be because you made the decision for Baylor, not against Kate. Those are two different things.”

I stare at the worn kitchen table for a long moment. “One meeting. At the house. And if I don’t like what I see, that’s it.”

My entire heart cinches at the thought of having Kate in the house. Interacting and watching her with Baylor. But my hands are tied. This is what parenting is about—doing the shit that’s best for them even if it might end up horribly wrong.

“That’s fair,” Roy says.

“More than fair,” Ansel mutters.

Hollis holds my gaze with those eyes that always see too much. He nods, but in that nod, I know he’s acknowledging that making this decision and rolling the dice on Kate again is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

Sam picks up his hand and arranges his cards, and one by one, we all do the same.

I’m not sure how to talk to Emelia about this, something I realized when I was on the deck with her earlier. It feels so odd because, practically since she arrived in town, talking openly and honestly with her has been the only thing I could do.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-EIGHT

Emelia

Elliott has been distant since Kate made her reappearance. When he returned from Roy’s on Saturday night, he didn’t mention anything about the situation, so I didn’t bring it up either.

He didn’t ask me to stay either. He didn’t ask anything of me, so I said good night and left.

When he didn’t reach out on Sunday, I was a coward and hid in my bunkie all day. I’d hoped that he might text, or that a knock might sound on the door at some point, but it never happened.

I don’t know why he’s pulling away.

That’s not true. I know exactly why he’s pulling away.

Because he’s overwhelmed and in crisis and has to make the best decision for his daughter.

And I’m just temporary.

Maybe if I were staying, things would be different, and he would lean on me. But he hasn’t, and I don’t want to force anything on him when he’s already dealing with so much. I have no right to demand more from him when we both agreed what this was going into it.

I just wish my heart didn’t feel so opposed to my head.

I’ve done my best to keep busy in order to try to keep myself sane, and it’s paid off somewhat.

This morning, I drove to the county records office and had them pull all the transfer records for lakefront and adjoining property for the past five years. The papers are now spread around the bed, and I’m about to do a deep dive when there’s a knock on the door.

I freeze, holding my breath. “Come in.”

The door opens, and Elliott comes into view. He doesn’t look as wrecked as he did the other day, but he still looks strained, as though he’s carrying the weight of the world. And to him, he probably is. Elliott is the kind of man who takes everyone’s well-being upon himself, whether they ask him to or not. But when it comes to Baylor, there’s nothing more important to him than knowing he’s doing what’s best for his daughter.

He looks at the paperwork strewn around the bed. “Sorry. Are you busy?”

“No, this can wait. Come in.” I slide off the mattress and walk toward him.

He closes the door behind him and steps farther into the bunkie. It doesn’t escape my notice that he doesn’t completely close the distance between us. My mind tells me to lock up my heart because it’s about to be shattered.

“Sorry if I’ve been a little MIA. My head has been a mess, and I needed some time to sort things out.”

“You don’t owe me an apology, Elliott.” And he doesn’t. Regardless of whether I want to be there for him or not, we’re both well aware of what this is and isn’t.