“I don’t want you to be just fine. I want you to be happy.”
I nodded, calling on all the acting lessons I’d tolerated for his sake to give the best performance I could. “I am happy. I’m sorry I made you worry.”
With our eyes locked, he shook his head and stood. “I love you, Hope. But you truly are a terrible actress.”
With a tight smile, he left me sitting on the couch with a boy holding an urn of ashes and a movie I should never have watched again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jacob
* * * * * *
Twenty-One Years Old
“YES, OF COURSE, Graham. She’s welcome anytime.”
I froze with my arms full of firewood, one boot planted on the doormat, and the other over the threshold to my mom’s house.
I’d left for all of ten minutes to grab more fuel, and she gets on the phone to Graham goddamn Murphy.
“Mm-hm. I know,” Mom murmured. “It’s understandable she’s lonely.” Another pause. “Yes, it must be so hard. She’s the odd one out. Privileged, so she’s bullied. Free-spirited, so she’s misunderstood.”
What the hell was she talking about?
Obviously, I knew.
Even though I hoped I was wrong. There was only one person Mom and Graham would be talking about. Two, perhaps, if they had a death wish and discussed me.
However, I wasn’t the subject today…Hope was.
Goddammit.
It’d been years since I’d had to stay on guard around her. Years since a letter. Years since she’d come to stay.
I thought I’d been in the clear.
“Next week? Yes, no problem. We don’t have a horse camp on, but she’s welcome to visit. Between Cassie and me, we’ll make sure she rides a lot.”
Oh, hell no.
The wood prickled my biceps as I squeezed the bark tight. I didn’t want a trespasser on my farm. I had enough to do without babysitting.
Because that was what would happen.
I’d end up babysitting because Mom and Aunt Cassie would say they were too busy with their rescues and charity work to play pony chaperone to a kid.
“Yep. I’ll get Jacob to pick her up from the airport.” A pause. “No. No problem at all. I know how busy you are over there. The TV show is great, by the way.” Another pause. “We’ll look after her, don’t you worry. Okay then, uh-huh. Sure. Yep, will do. Talk soon.”
She hung up and I had a good mind to turn around, drop the firewood, and go home. Screw making her the mushroom pesto pasta I’d planned. She’d just invited an enemy into our home.
Invited, yes. But Hope isn’t here yet.
There was still time to prevent it from happening.
I glared at Mom as I stomped to the fireplace and the rattan basket for holding wood. Dumping the armful into it, I stood, brushed off bark pieces and small splinters, and crossed my arms. “No.”
She mimicked me, crossing her arms and readying for battle. “Don’t you ‘no’ me, Jacob Wild. Four p.m. on Wednesday. She’s flying in from Edinburgh. She’ll be jet-lagged, hungry, and expecting a friendly face. You will be that friendly face. You will drive her here. Help her settle and get over whatever grudge you have against her, got it?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she hadn’t finished.
“Oh, one other thing. You might as well know because I’d rather you get over your indignation before she arrives. I’m going to let her stay in your old room instead of the bunk beds for camp students. Graham said he’s worried about her and wants her to have lots of company. She doesn’t know he’s set this up, and I expect it to be a good surprise for however long she stays.”
Slowly, I unwound my arms, fisting my hands. “And how long will that be?”
Mom shrugged. “He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.” She bustled into the kitchen, deliberately busying herself with pulling ingredients from the fridge, including a bunch of fresh vegetables I’d grown in my garden.
My entire body boycotted the idea of visitors. My heart smoked with possession over my mother. I didn’t want to share her with some kid who didn’t deserve to be here. Let alone allow a girl to sleep in my room—a room I’d barely set foot in for four years.
But I knew when I was beaten, and after one too many early starts this week, I didn’t have the energy to fight. “Why now?”
Mom pulled a cutting knife from the block, giving me a sad smile. “Because she’s lost.”
Kicking off my boots, I walked toward her. “That isn’t our problem.”
“I know.” She stopped what she was doing. “But I was lost once. Ren was lost. Cassie was lost. Everyone is lost at some point in their lives.” Her blue gaze seared into me. “Even you were lost until you started working the farm. It’s not our problem if Hope is lost, but it is our obligation to help her find her true path—even if it’s just by being her friend.”