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Dad holds up his hands defensively. “Fine! Fine. I’ll talk to him. Point taken. Now, go take care of the brick. I’ve had enough serious conversations for one day.” And with that, he turns on his heel and stalks off toward the build site. I grumpily walk over to the driver’s side door and jump in. When I do, Simone is looking at me with wide, surprised eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“I… heard all of that. Thank you,” she whispers. Shit, I think, annoyed that she had to be made aware of Russell’s behavior when she hadn’t been before.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I just don’t appreciate women being treated that way, you know?”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “But you didn’t have to stand up for me like that. A lot of men wouldn’t have. Thank you, really.”
I shrug. “Really, it’s fine.” Now, I’m suddenly uncomfortable with the change of tone in the car, because she’s looking at me like she’s never seen me before, and the last thing I want is her getting the wrong idea. I pull away from her and slip on my sunglasses.
“Let’s go buy some brick, huh?”
Everything that follows the rest of the day with Simone is slightly awkward. She was suddenly quiet, and spent a lot of time staring at me. I don’t want to make assumptions about what she was thinking or feeling, but I also don’t want to encourage anything when I’ve got enough bullshit floating around in my head right now. So, as soon as I was able, I left her with the contractor and snuck back up to the house, hoping to find my mother. Instead, the only person in the house is Anna.
She’s sitting on the couch, watching TV and eating ice cream, despite the fact it’s one in the afternoon. I roll my eyes and plot down next to her.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” I ask as I steal her ice cream away, despite her curse-filled protest.
“It’s check-up day. The vet is in with the horses, and that’s Parrish’s thing. So, it’s easier if I stay out of the way. Besides, what do you care?”
“You look like you did when you were five, and I came down here and found you eating caramel corn and watching Freddy Krueger at two in the morning.”
Anna snorts. “I need to do that more often. Speaking of Freddy Krueger, Russell Edwards is pissed at you.”
I groan and flop backwards, inadvertently hitting my head on the back of the couch. I swear, and rub the lump that is already forming. “Dad told him I was the one who called him out?”
Anna shrugs. “Whatever. The old perv had it coming. He’s disgusting. I can’t believe dad hired him for this. Then again, dad is pretty clueless about anything not related to this ranch.”
I sit up and look at Anna, rage burning my cheeks. “Anna, he’s never… to you…”
Anna shakes her head adamantly. “Oh, hell no. I don’t think he’s that stupid. But I’m pretty sure he was creepy with Parrish when he showed up the first time the other day. She didn’t say it outright. But she mentioned it in passing that she wasn’t crazy about him.”
I’m suddenly just as angry at the thought of him going near Parrish as I am at the idea of him doing anything to Anna, but for very different reasons. “Well, if he so much as looks at either of you while he’s on this property, you better tell me. You hear?”
Anna salutes me. “Yes, sir! So, how was your morning with the princess?”
I chuckle as I lean back again, more carefully this time. “Fine. Uneventful. She took some pictures at the mason’s, but she’s been pretty quiet today.”
“A nice switch,” Anna says as she steals the bowl of ice cream back from me. I don’t put up a fight.
“Whatever. I’ve dealt with a lot more annoying in LA, I can promise you that much.”
The front door to the house opens, and Parrish comes in, her face streaked with tears, and her cheeks bright red. Anna drops her bowl on the coffee table and runs over to her.
“Parrish! What’s wrong? What happened?”
Parrish sobs. “It’s… Moonfire… She’s… sick…” she coughs out.
I walk over and take her hand in mine. “Take a breath, Parrish. Sick with what?”
“The vet said… she has Cushing Syndrome. Your father wants to put her down. He said… he doesn’t want to spend the money on a horse that isn’t even in competition.” She’s still having trouble catching her breath.
Anna kicks the wall in anger. “That miserable old goat.”
I turn to Anna, confused. “Anna, what is Cushing Syndrome?”
“It means she probably has a tumor in her brain, but it can be treated with medication. She just has to go on a special diet, and we’d have to bring the farrier in a little more regularly for her. She could live a full and healthy life with the medication and regular checkups. I can’t believe he’s doing this.”
