My mother stopped mid-fork full of green beans. “Really? Oh, Peggy must be so happy to have him home.”
I had no idea.
“Did he come to take over the farm?” my father asked.
“Yes, but his is one that Stark and Associates has targeted to buy.”
My mother’s face turned sad. “Are they selling? I wouldn’t blame them. Frank let it go for so long and I know it was hard for her.”
“Wyatt says no. He wants to fight it. He hired a lawyer.” I looked down in case my face made a distasteful expression at the idea of him spending time with Jeannette again. Stupid, I knew, considering I didn’t want Wyatt. Well I did, but I shouldn’t.
“Good for him. I always thought he had a good head on his shoulders despite his father. I suppose I don’t blame him for running off the way he did.”
I frowned. “Did you know he was abused?”
My mother cast a glance at my father. It was one of those looks that said it was impolite to gossip about other people’s business.
My father shrugged. “I think it’s a well-known secret that Peggy was abused. I couldn’t say about Wyatt.”
“Why didn’t anyone do anything?” I was horrified that people would know Peggy was being hit and didn’t do anything to stop it.
“She didn’t want it.” My mother looked at my daughter. “Did you tell your mom what we did today?” That effectively cut off the discussion.
I remembered Wyatt telling me his mother got mad at him when he tried to protect her, it was probable that she hadn’t wanted help.
“Yep. Who’s Wyatt?” Alyssa asked.
It was the first time I’d ever heard her say her father’s name, and guilt lanced through me at what I was doing.
“He was your uncle Ryder’s best buddy growing up,” my father said. “One day he hightailed it out of town and no one knew what happened to him.”
“What did happen to him? Do you know, Sinclair?” my mother asked.
“He joined the military, but didn’t re-enlist when his mother told him his father left and the farm was struggling.”
“So, he’s home to stay. I’m so glad for Peggy.”
“Let’s just hope he and Ryder don’t go getting into trouble again. I swear those boys were like hellions,” Dad added.
“What’s a hellion?” Alyssa asked.
“Troublemakers.” I nodded to her plate. “Eat your green beans.”
She made a face. “Green stuff is never yummy.”
“But it’s good for you,” my mother told her.
“Here, put more butter on it. Butter makes everything palatable,” my father said, handing Alyssa the plate with the butter from a local dairy.
“What’s palatable?” she asked, cutting a square.
“Easy to eat,” I said.
“We should invite Peggy and Wyatt for Sunday dinner,” my mother said.
I choked on the water I was sipping.
“Are you okay?” my father asked.