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“Who else would I be?”
I shrug. “I made sandwiches. I thought we could maybe go eat them by the duck pond?”
“You made sandwiches?”
“Ham and mustard. Your favorite.” I point to the little hamper I’ve put together. Sandwiches, freshly baked biscuits, a flask with hot tea. “Just because you always do everything, doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”
For at least right now, I don’t mention the biscuits that ended up in the trash because I left them in the oven too long.
He grunts, which is about as close to a compliment as I’m going to get. “I’ll go wash up, then we’ll have lunch.”
“Okay. Need some company?”
“Yes, but then we’ll never get lunch. Maybe later.”
I giggle and settle into my seat at the kitchen table, looking through the classified ads in the local newspaper. We need a tow hitch for the tractor, to replace the one Eli has to jimmy into place every time he wants to use it, and there’s no way we can afford to buy new.
I’m running my finger down the page when there’s a knock at the door.
For a second I don’t move.
Nobody ever comes here unexpectedly, and Eli has always told me not to answer the door. That he’ll get it.
But that was a rule for the little girl I was when I arrived here, right? Not the young woman I am now.
I can hardly go the rest of my life never answering the door.
“Just a second!” I call out, putting the newspaper aside and starting for the front of the house. But before I get there, someone is already making their way inside. I stop instantly and back away. He looks… vaguely familiar somehow. But I’m sure I don’t know him. “What are you doing? Who are you?”
“Ruby? God, it is, isn’t it?” He pushes the door closed behind him and stands there staring at me.
And I hear the bathroom door.
I glare at the intruder, standing a little straighter now that I know backup is on the way. “I said, who are you and what are you doing barging into our house?”
“Don’t you recognize me?”
“No.” I huff. “Who. Are. You?”
I hear Eli’s deadpan voice from behind me, at the top of the stairs. “Ruby, he’s your father.”
The story is so unbelievable it has to be true.
I can see it in Eli’s face that he believes it. I’m just not sure what it means for us.
“Honestly, I nearly did die,” Reginald says, taking a sip of his tea. I refuse to call him my father, because as far as I’m concerned that role is already filled.
And it’s not like he cared enough about me not to fake his own death.
“Why?” Eli says, shaking his head on a sniff. “Why fake your death? Were things that bad?”
Reginald nods. “If anything they were worse. The only way to fix things and,” he glances my way and gives the fakest fake smile I’ve ever seen, “protect my little girl, was for Reginald Morton to die. Of course, I was only planning to be gone for a few years, until the heat died down, but then I was arrested on totally trumped up charges and—”
“You were arrested?” I move closer to Eli. “For what?”
“As I said, totally trumped up charges. Smuggling. Can you believe it?”
“Smuggling what, Reginald?” Eli glares.
“What does it matter? It was completely untrue, I never—”
“Smuggling what?”
Reginald huffs and takes a gulp of his drink. “Cocaine.”
“You were smuggling coke? Are you insane? You’re lucky you’re still alive.”
“I wasn’t though.” Reginald frowns. “I told you—”
“Why are you here?” I ask, cutting him off.
I don’t care whether he was or wasn’t smuggling cocaine. I don’t care that he faked his death and I haven’t seen him for ten years. I don’t care that my life changed because it changed for the better.
But what I want to know—what I need to know—is why he’s back.
“I served my totally unfair sentence, and as soon as I was released I came back here. I missed you every day, baby girl. I just hoped you were safe. Every day in that prison, that was the one thing I prayed for, was that my little girl was safe and happy, and had all the things our money could buy.”
He glances around the room and then frowns. And it takes me a moment to put the pieces together.
“What money?” I ask innocently, without even thinking.
“The money I left to Eli in my will, to keep you fed and clothed in the manner to which you’d become accustomed.” He laughs. “You didn’t think your uncle could afford caviar and Chanel on the income from his farm, did you?”
I glance across at Eli, now totally confused. He takes my hand in both of his and kisses my knuckles as he stares at Reginald. It’s a very intimate action, but if his brother even noticed he shows no sign. He just stares back.
