Page 35 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

The rest of her room was decked out in items from the boys’ section at Target. She had a green camo bedspread and matching sheets. Her bookshelf in the corner was in the shape of half a canoe. And there was a black teepee at the foot of her bed where she’d escape to read with a flashlight. Her bedroom resembled her fort outside more than it did a little girl’s room.

Everything was tomboy.

Except for that pink table.

“Hi, honey.” I knocked on the doorframe.

She looked over her shoulder and then went right back to coloring.

I crossed the room and knelt next to her chair. “What are you drawing?”

“Just a picture,” she mumbled as she used brown to shade in the roof of the house she’d outlined.

Our house.

She’d drawn the cottage along with three stick figures. One was me, judging by the long black hair. The other was Hazel with gray strands around her round face. And the last was Charlie, standing between us with a big smile.

Who wasn’t in the picture? Logan.

Like mother, like daughter.

Charlie used art to express her feelings when she couldn’t find the words.

“That’s a pretty picture,” I said, stroking her hair. “Can you take a break and look at me?”

She set down her marker and turned in the seat, her chin still tipped down. When she looked up, her brown eyes flooded with tears. “I don’t want to move far away, Mommy.”

“Don’t worry.” I pulled her off the chair and into my arms. “We’ll figure something out.”

She sat on my bent knees and buried her head in the crook of my neck. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

The knot in my stomach tightened. If Logan forced my hand—if he made us move to the city—I’d never forgive him for making me break my promise.

&n

bsp; “Come on.” I hugged Charlie tighter, then let her go. “Let’s get cleaned up for bed. Do you want a shower tonight or a bubble bath?”

“Bubble bath.”

With her leading the way to the bathroom, I filled the claw foot tub with water and bubbles while she stripped off her dirty clothes and left them in a heap by the door. Then we went about our normal scrub down until Charlie was dirt-free and smelled like lavender instead of the outdoors.

As she splashed around and played with her bath crayons, I sat back against the wall, stretching my legs out parallel to the tub. I took a few breaths, fortifying myself for a heart-to-heart with my girl.

We needed to discuss her father.

I wished I didn’t have to force this conversation. I wished I could put it off until tomorrow, after we’d both had a night’s rest. But since Logan was adamant about being here for only a week, there wasn’t time.

“We need to talk about Logan.”

Her splashing stopped.

“What didn’t you like about him?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and scooped up a handful of bubbles.

“You got pretty upset when he suggested that we move. Is that what scared you?”