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It was a good sign.
The truth was, most of the farms in this part of the country were struggling to stay afloat. Farming was already a poor man’s racket, but when you factored in the climbing temperatures and water shortages, they were in fresh danger. It was why energy leasing had always been a boost to farm incomes. Though, rather than oil, was mostly wind farms and natural gas. The holdout farms were doing all right, which was why they’d been able to pass on the deal. But the county had just released another water restriction that would cut what was left of their crops by twenty-five percent.
And so, their pens hovered over the dotted line.
Now I just had to get Jo on board.
I hadn’t said much through dinner, too busy worrying over what to do about my father. I knew my own intentions, and while they may have started out less than noble, I could say with some certainty that I didn’t want to see any of these women hurt, nor did I want to manipulate them into signing. My plan had been to use honest tactics and persuade her as best I could. But by showing up tonight, my father had raised the stakes. I knew exactly what he was doing, and I couldn’t stand by and watch him use Dottie, even if it was exactly what I’d been working toward just a few weeks ago.
Maybe that was why it rankled me so deeply. I didn’t want to look in that mirror. Ever.
So my goals now came with risk that wasn’t present before. Now I had to get them to sign as quickly as possible so my father would get out of Lindenbach and leave them alone. I didn’t care if he was here to condescend or micromanage me. I didn’t care that his presence indicated that he didn’t think I could do my job, the job he groomed me for.
And maybe that was part of the problem. He took ownership over my career, which was interesting enough, considering he took no part in my life before I came to work for him.
Dottie laughed, her smile big and bright. I could see where the girls took after her, Daisy most of all. I only saw Jo in her in glimpses—she favored her father, judging by the multitude of photos of him in the house—but Dottie lived in Jo all the same.
I wondered if they thought I looked like my father and hated that they probably did.
“So how long did you say you were in town for?” Jo asked, her face pleasant but her tone glinting like the edge of a knife.
He didn’t react, just smiled amicably. “Not too long, sadly. Lindenbach is some town. They don’t make them like this on the East Coast.”
“No,” Jo said. “It’s all proud and colonial where you’re from, right? Cobblestone streets and brownstones and Paul Revere.”
“I think I prefer this,” he said wistfully as Dottie looked on, smiling. “There’s something about a small town … quaint, quiet. People don’t leave here—they have no desire to move. In big cities, people are transient, relocating when they get a new job or have a bad breakup. It’s comforting to think there’s a place where people stay just because they love it.”
Poppy chimed in, “Glad we could provide you a little fantasy before you go back to your penthouse.”
“Poppy June,” Dottie chided, her face colored with disappointment. “I’m sorry, Merrick.”
But he chuckled, leaning back in his seat, patting her hand. “Oh, it’s all right, Dottie. I’m the enemy, right? A predator, a snake in the hen house. I’d hoped they wouldn’t see me that way, but I don’t blame them. But we all have our fantasies, don’t we? Stories we make up about other people to protect us. They make it easier to deal with a truth we don’t like. Like me showing up here with your mother.”
The lack of challenge in his voice made his speech even worse than if he’d been an asshole.
“Truth is,” he continued, “I understand. It’s why Grant’s never met a woman I’ve dated. His mother died when he was born, and I never brought anyone around, knowing it would confuse and upset him. I didn’t want him to look at any of them like you’re looking at me right now.”
I swallowed hard at his lie—Was it a lie? Could it be true?—watching him with the weight of a lifetime’s neglect in my gaze. A thousand words rose in my chest, smothered only by the knowledge that I would only fuck myself if I got into it.
“Did any of them want to steal from you?” Poppy snapped.
“Poppy,” her mother warned.
“I’m sure they did,” Merrick answered. “But that isn’t what I want from you.”
The three sisters laughed at the same time.
He looked on, his face seemingly honest, sincere. “Have I brought it up once at dinner? Dottie”—he turned to her—“have I mentioned the rights to you?”
