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The words are innocuous enough, but her eyes bounce back and forth between us. She’s probing our past to try and foresee our future. Maybe I was wrong, and my mother isn’t the only matchmaker sitting at this table.
“Yes, it is,” Lennon responds.
“There were some Matthews horses winning the Cup for several years,” Mr. St. James states. “Those yours?”
“My grandfather’s, at the time. Now, yes, they’re mine.”
“That’s quite a responsibility.”
“At the moment, we’re the ones horse-sitting.” My father chuckles.
Any goodwill toward my father following his compliment quickly vanishes. “When was the last time you were out in the stable, Dad?”
“I was merely joking, Caleb. Of course we’re happy to host the Matthews horses while Lennon enjoys herself at Clarkson.”
I clench my left hand and release the fist. “Especially since they’re staying in myhalfof the racing business.”
My father’s eyes flash with anger. That was another unpleasant surprise for him at my grandfather’s will reading.
I didn’t just get the farm itself, I also got half of the lucrative business known as Winters Stables that’s headquartered there. It’s a sore spot I rarely press, and something I’m certain he didn’t want the St. Jameses to know. Knowledge is potential weakness, if you ask my father.
The doorbell breaks the charged silence.
“I’ll get it.” My mother starts to stand.
“No, I’ll get it. It’s Colt and Jake.” I stand and toss my napkin on my chair before I stalk toward the entryway.
The door swings open to reveal two of my best friends. “Fuck, am I glad to see you two,” I tell them.
“Really? How come?” Jake asks, grinning.
“Yeah. You normally love spending time with your parents,” Colt adds.
I scoff. “Come on in. Everyone is in the dining room.”
Colt and Jake follow me deeper into the house. Lennon stands from the table as we walk in.
“Matthews!” Jake ignores everyone else and heads straight for Lennon.
He gives her a big hug and then passes her off to Colt, who does the same before focusing on my parents.
“Hi, Mr. Winters. Mrs. Winters,” Colt greets.
Jake repeats the greeting, then adds, “My parents say hi too.”
“They should have come over with you boys,” my father says.
“Nah. They hate sledding,” Jake replies, grinning, then looks to me. “You guys ready?”
“Yep,” I reply immediately. I’ve been ready to leave this house since we arrived, basically.
I catch Lennon’s eye. She tilts her head toward Sophie.
“Do you want to come with us, Sophie?” I ask, silently praying she’ll say no.
To my relief, she does. “I’m good, thanks. You guys have fun.”
I grab Lennon’s hand and tug her toward the entryway. Jake and Colt are right behind us.
