AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It might have been the timing of the song more than anything.” He ventured the opinion slowly, perhaps checking her reaction. “Your mother might have been injured.”
Had she been?
It wouldn’t have been serious or Fleur would have remembered, although a pang hit that the thought hadn’t occurred to her at the time.
“I couldn’t see well from where I was in the arena.” The lights had been bright. The tension so thick it felt like it was crushing her when she’d heard her father and mother shouting at one another. There’d been no other sound in the whole arena except for their raised, furious voices. “I just knew they were fighting for the whole town to hear. It was so painful. So needless and wrong. I did the only thing I could think of to cover it up.”
“You sang.”
“I burst into song.” Shrugging, she wasn’t sure she could relate a nine-year-old girl’s decisions in a way that would make sense to a grown man. “Not just soIdidn’t have to hear them, but so the rest of Catamount wouldn’t be talking about my cheating father and my out-of-control mother all day. Or maybe I did it so my parents would be forced to listen to me for those two minutes where I was center stage.”
Once the words tumbled from her lips—the last part a surprise even to her—Fleur wished she could call them back. Hadn’t she wanted to find some personal strength? Admitting something that sounded so self-pitying hardly seemed like a good start. But before she could backpedal, Drake’s voice rumbled between them, his chest vibrating against hers where they touched.
“You and your sisters navigated some rough waters when your folks split.” He watched her with curious eyes, no doubt wondering why she’d brought up the story.
“We definitely spent too much time focused on their misery instead of looking forward.” She should own that much without being self-pitying, after all. If she wanted to grow, to change, she needed to look back at all of her journey and not just the better parts. “But I always felt happiest when I was here. In Catamount.”
“Because of your grandmother.” He nodded, his expression clearing as if he understood now. “You must be missing her so much this summer.”
“I am. But at the same time, I feel close to her here. I have good memories in this house, and I feel like being at Crooked Elm is helping me find myself after being a little lost these last five years.” She’d run from her broken engagement, and from memories of the pregnancy she’d lost.
But staying away for so long had been a mistake she could never fix. And nothing would give her back that lost time with Gran, the person who’d loved her most.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He trailed a knuckle down her arm, a lingering caress that sent a shiver through her. “It’s been good seeing you again.”
His gaze dipped to her lips, his hand lifting to cradle her face. He tilted her chin toward him.
But she couldn’t kiss him without telling him her point. A decision that she’d only just come to tonight as she lay here tangled in the sheets with him.
“I’m not sure you’ll still think that when I tell you I’m considering staying in Catamount.” She steeled herself, ready to be strong again. To fight for what she wanted. “I don’t want to sell Crooked Elm.”
Eleven
“Staying. In Catamount.” Drake repeated the words, giving himself more time to absorb the bombshell she’d just dropped on him.
Hadn’t she wanted to delay a conversation about what had happened between them tonight? And yet she’d waded into a conversation about something with far more potential to splinter the fragile bond they’d forged together.
His pulse jumped in a more merciless rhythm than any bull he’d ever ridden, his brain searching for a response. Because while he wanted to be supportive of her, he could also see the potential for disaster. Between them. Between him and his brother if Drake continued to see Fleur. And as for his quest to purchase the land for himself to restore the waterway, a task he felt honor bound to complete in his parents’ memory?
That had just gone up in flames.
“Yes, that’s what I said.” Fleur had gone still in his arms. “My catering business is doing better than I expected. There could be a viable opportunity for me here. Not just in catering, but maybe one day expanding into a restaurant.”
He couldn’t help a shocked laugh as he levered up on one elbow. “The profit and loss statements from Cowboy Kitchen would make you think twice about that. I only bought it as a kindness to the community—a way to keep a local business open.”
She propped herself up on a pillow, her bared shoulders tense.
“Perhaps that’s why you’re not making a profit,” she said carefully, seeming to take his measure as she spoke. “You’re not passionate about the restaurant business the way I am. I can see real potential for the right establishment.”
Her prickly body language told him he’d offended her, so he shifted away from that topic. There were a hundred other problems with her plan he could tackle, after all.
Swiping a hand over his face, he shoved himself into a sitting position, sheet pooling around his waist. “What about the land management issues? How can you address the impending conservation citations when you won’t have capital to invest?”
The problems with the waterway on Crooked Elm property already had a tremendous ripple effect on the water and land quality at Alexander Ranch, to say nothing of the properties downstream from his. He had a responsibility to his cattle to take care of it.
“I haven’t worked out all the answers yet.” She gripped the edge of the duvet tightly in her fist, drawing it closer to her body. “I’m just exploring the possibility.”
The wounded note in her voice came through clearly, and he regretted his approach. He reached for her, wanting to recapture the closeness they’d shared earlier, the scent of her still filling his every breath.
