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“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“It’s—we’re adults, like James said. We should be able to make our own choices.”
“You mean your own mistakes,” he muttered.
“Exactly.”
More silence that seemed to stretch longer than before.
Brielle’s voice softened. “How else are we going to find the men that we want to marry? How are we going to find someone who means as much to us as Mom meant to you?” Emotion caught in her throat. “Constance loves James. I’ve seen it first-hand. And he loves her. They’re good for each other.”
“How can you know that?” Her father’s voice was softer now, too. And their frantic steps had stopped. It almost felt like the house was so quiet it would cave in on all of them.
“I just—know.” Brielle let out another sigh. “All I’m trying to say is that we’re different. You might not realize this, but Adeline and Sean got married because she wanted to give the rest of us a chance to find love sooner rather than later.” Her voice shook a little. “As much as I wish I could do the same for Constance, I… can’t. I haven’t found love yet. And I’m not sure I’m ready for a relationship. But Constance shouldn’t suffer because I’m not willing to make a sacrifice like Adeline.”
Zeke didn’t speak right away. Grace glanced in Constance’s direction but didn’t breathe a word. This fight was about Constance, but it was about so much more than that. The decision their father made would affect Grace and all the others.
Constance held her breath, waiting for her father to make any indication that he understood what Brielle was saying.
“Is this why Constance has seemed so distant all week?” The sound of someone settling into a chair came next. “I don’t know if I feel comfortable with making that kind of change.”
Constance’s heart faltered, but she regained control. Even if he did change the rule, what would that mean for her failed relationship with James? It wasn’t like she could just walk up to him and tell him that she’d broken up with him because she wasn’t brave enough to be in Brielle’s current situation. Constance had either been terrified or too set in her own ways to stand up for her own relationship. Maybe a little bit of both.
And now she had Brielle fighting her battle for her.
Brielle’s soft voice broke through the silence. “It’s not really up to you. We all live here, helping out at the ranch because we love you. We’re all really close. None of us want to break the family up. But there will ultimately come a day when one of us breaks free from your rules and you’re going to have to decide how you will handle it.” Footsteps shuffled across the wood floor and Brielle arrived in the doorway. Her eyes landed on Constance and she gave her a wry smile before moving toward the stairs.
Constance’s gaze followed her sister until she was no longer visible, then she glanced toward Grace.
“What do you think he’s going to do?” she whispered.
Constance shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? None of us have someone to fight for right now.” She headed toward the stairs, her heart heavier than before. That should have been the conversation she had with her father. She should have been brave enough to stick up for what she wanted. She’d been a doormat from the beginning.
Grace hurried to walk beside her. “Yes, you do. You have James.”
“I don’t think I do anymore.”
“Why not?” Grace touched Constance’s arm, forcing her to stop and face her at the top of the stairs. “He’s obviously crazy about you. He came here to fight for your hand.”
Constance snorted. “This isn’t some fairytale. Princes who come to save the damsel don’t exist.”
“James is as close to aprinceas you’re going to get, and you should probably do something before you lose him altogether.” Brielle stood in the doorway of her room, her voice causing both Grace and Constance to jump. “IfIwere you, I’d go after him and tell him you made a mistake.”
The hurt feelings from Brielle’s deception hovered just below the surface. Constance wanted so much to give her older sister the cold shoulder. It would be easier to avoid a conversation about wounds that were still healing.
At the same time, she almost wanted to throw her arms around Brielle for doing the one thing she hadn’t been capable of doing.
Grace nudged her. “Aren’t you going to do something?”
Constance glanced from one sister to the other, then nodded. “Yes. But it’s not what you think.” She turned and headed down the stairs and straight for the living room. Her father was seated by the fireplace, staring at the empty contents. He didn’t stir when she arrived and didn’t show her that he’d noticed her appearance whatsoever.
She moved closer and plopped down on the couch that sat across from him, making as much noise as possible when sitting on the overstuffed furniture.
Zeke lifted his head and turned toward her. For the most part, his expression was unreadable—all except his eyes. Behind his grey eyes was worry. She hadn’t expected to find that emotion from her father. He was the head of the family—always ready for anything and prepared to take on a stampeding bull if need be.
He groaned as he shifted in his seat and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees. “I suppose you’re here to give your two cents, too.”
