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“Mm…I can do that.” Cayden took her fully into his arms and kissed her again, every stroke a reminder of how much she liked him and how much he liked her. Every touch became fuel for the courage she needed to talk to her mother. Every pulse of her heart beat only for him, and while she’d have to deal with that and what it meant later, right now, it sure felt nice to be in his arms again.
* * *
Ginny didn’t ringthe doorbell or knock. She didn’t even use the front door. Her mother lived in ten percent of the house, the bulk of that at the back, away from the public face of Sweet Rose Whiskey.
She’d parked five feet from the servant entrance, and she’d used her key to get through the door. To her right sat the kitchen, and to her left a set of stairs that went up. Harvey and Elliot had tried to get Mother to live on the first floor, but there was only one bedroom on the main level, and it was in the front corner of the house.
Mother wouldn’t even go in that room, as Daddy had lived there. There had been little love left between them, and by the time he’d left Sweet Rose in an advanced stage of heart failure, they hadn’t been speaking.
Ginny knew exactly how her father felt as she turned and marched up the steps. She went right at the top and down a hallway that had been torn out and rebuilt to accommodate Mother’s flowing ball gowns. She owned more than anyone else on Earth, it seemed, and she always had a back-up plan for her back-up plan.
“Mother,” Ginny called as the sound of the television met her ears. Her step almost faltered, but she kept going. Things had been building and frothing between her and her mother for months now. This was just icing on a poisoned cake that needed to be thrown away.
“Mother,” she said again, pushing into the room where her mother spent her evenings at home. She sat in the recliner, gently toeing herself back and forth, a crochet needle working on the outer edge of a baby blanket.
“Ginny, dear.” Mother looked up from her work, a smile soft and easy on her face.
Secrets, Ginny thought, her gaze stuck to that blanket. They both had plenty of those.
“I thought it was the Gin and Gems event tonight?” Mother phrased it like a question when it wasn’t. She knew exactly what happened on the two-thousand-acre farm that was a distillery.
“It is,” Ginny said, tearing her eyes from that blanket. Why couldn’t Mother be wearing a black dress and stirring something nefarious over a fire? To find her crocheting a border on a handmade baby blanket while a cooking show droned on made her so…normal.
“Did you tell Cayden Chappell that horses and whiskey don’t mix?” Ginny asked, making her voice as strong as she could.
Mother’s fingers stumbled, and that was all the answer Ginny needed.
“Mother, you do not get to dictate to me who I will see and who I won’t.”
“He is all wrong for you.”
“Youare wrong about that,” Ginny said. If there was one thing Mother hated, it was being told she was wrong. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Mother. I’m not even twenty-six. I’m almost fifty years old, and I’ve been doing everything you’ve told me to for my entire life.”
Her frustration and annoyance blossomed and bloomed, expanding rapidly as her breathing increased. “I’m done, Mother. I like him, and you haveno rightto boss him around.”
“Ginny, do think rationally,” Mother said in a disdainful voice. She set her crocheting aside and sighed as if Ginny had interrupted the most wonderful moment of her life. “You’re always over-reacting.”
“I amnotover-reacting,” Ginny said. “I’ve lost almost three months of my life, wondering what I did to drive him away, only to find out it wasyou!” She advanced on her mother as she pushed herself up out of the chair.
She took a moment to steady herself on her feet, but when she looked at Ginny, the fire in her eyes was just as prevalent as it always had been. “He does not fit at Sweet Rose.”
“He doesn’t need to,” Ginny said. “He owns and operates a hugely successful horse farm.”
“Spur does that,” Mother said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what the Chappells are worth, dear, but there are eight of them. I doubt he could keep you in your current state of comfort.” She turned away from Ginny and started for the small kitchen in the back corner.
“I don’t need any of that comfort,” Ginny spat back. “I hate that house. It’s fifty times too big, and I hate coming home to it all by myself.”
Mother paused and twisted back to Ginny, her eyes wide. “Your ingratitude is unbecoming.”
“I am not ungrateful,” Ginny said. “I’mlonely. I’m tired, Mother.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound.
Mother turned fully toward her, a malicious glint in her dark eyes now. “Of course I can’t forbid you from seeing him. Go see him. Go to dinner with him. Fall in love with him. See if he has anywhere for you to live on that cattle ranch he shares with seven brothers.”
“It’s a racehorse operation, Mother.”
“Whatever,” Mother said, her appraising eyes sliding down to Ginny’s feet. She’d left her heels in the car, and suddenly, all the smells and stains leapt out from where they’d been hiding. “Good Lord,” Mother said, pressing her hand to her pulse. “Did anyone see you like this?” She reached out as if she’d touch the gown, but she yanked her fingers back before she did.
“Yes,” Ginny said. “Everyone at the Gin and Gems event.”
