Chapter Five

 

Faint, feminine laughter drew her down the path where it curved around the back of the house. The crystalline sound wasn’t anything like the death knell she’d read about, but when she rounded the corner her chest took an invisible blow that staggered her to a halt.

Her lungs strove to draw some form of oxygen into their depths but despite her parted lips and flaring nostrils, breathing was beyond her ability. Karen Winters posed prettily against the split wood fence, one hip canted, shoulders back to better display her breasts, shaking back that luxurious mane of blonde hair as she laughed up at Maddox.

A slender, perfectly manicured hand rested sweetly on his forearm and Regan could see the faint stroking motion even at a distance.

It wasn’t that he was doing anything other than smile back at the beauty and murmur something else to make her further express her mirth that brought Regan’s world down around her. It was the fact that it took the vision unfolding—informing—before her very eyes, to literally knock some sense into her. Her body throbbed as if an open wound.

Anger, at herself, flavored with gut-wrenching despair, warred deep inside before she managed a quick hit of air and broke her frozen stance. Quietly, she turned on her heel and hustled away toward the relative safety of The Inn.

Despite all of her private remonstrations and quashing her need to read anything into Maddox’s kindnesses, she’d been nurturing a stupid hope. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her. Nor do anything else with her. Not when he could have women like Karen.

The fairytale she’d been selling herself was her own fault in entirety. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want the responsibility of rebuilding the old inn and running it as a business. He’d made that clear from the beginning, agreeing to a probationary period only when she’d played the sympathy card.

Her teeth set and gritted in shame when she thought about how quickly she’d played it. She swiped at the stupid moisture leaking from her eyes as she swallowed a bitter laugh. Karen Winters was Maddox’s kind of woman, not Regan Ferguson, not when one compared the two. Never mind all the other beauties Maddox could effortlessly surround himself with.

Casting a glance downward at her stained jeans and sloppy shirt, her broken-down boots with the knotted laces made her grimace, and she knew her ditchwater-brown hair had partially escaped the braid she’d wrestled it into that morning. The strands would be curling against the humidity and making her look like an abandoned waif without a hint of sophistication. Not to mention the lack of makeup. And no perfectly manicured, soft hands with polished nails for her.

Kissing her all covered in drywall dust and mud. Right after he’d admonished her for working too hard. She’d misread the situation.

Maddox was merely being kind, giving her the chance to fail so he wouldn’t come off looking like the bad guy. He’d made it clear in the beginning. Sell The Inn, walk away with a profit, and split the proceeds. Right now it was half of pretty much nothing with the exception of a few bookings she’d prayed for. She hated to think of a developer waiting in the wings with bated breath, but when a person had an epiphany…

How had he stood living here the past weeks, albeit the time punctuated with several business trips to get his fix in the big city? And doubtless, some of that time spent with stunning, sexy females. His dedication to her, his adopted cousin, was admirable—and rubbed like salt in her burning humiliation atop of the stupid jealousy.

He wasn’t hers in any shape or form, and that one stupid kiss, those looks she caught coming her way when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, his interest in her welfare, they added up to nothing more than nothing. She should be thanking Karen for tearing the blinders from her eyes. 

Because, in retrospect, just how much did The Inn mean to her, now that she was alone in the world and fighting an uphill battle? So much backbreaking work for little to no gain. It was time she accepted that retreat was the only sensible option before…

Before what? She passed a weary hand over her face. She’d already fallen hard for the enigmatic Maddox. In the very beginning, she believed she could read him, but since the moment they’d shaken—and kissed—to seal that stupid deal, had she really? Or maybe she simply didn’t have the experience, the wherewithal, to decipher the man.

That didn’t change the way she felt about him or how her body continued to respond whenever he came within proximity. Stupid country bumpkin. She huffed a bitter laugh and set away her self-pity. First things first. Once The Inn was out of the way and the money issue solved, maybe she could enjoy a cautious, normal connection with Maddox. And his mother and sister. It would kill her to see him with other women, but at least he’d still be in her life without The Inn looming over them. Better half a loaf than none. Maybe.

She squared her shoulders, happy she’d gotten her priorities straight. Taking the wide stairs in a near run, once again tracking dust—and dirt—along with her, she dragged out her cell phone as she shut herself in her room. She’d feel things out with a realtor, show him she could face reality and be worthy of that admiration and respect he showed her.

“Active Realty, Margo speaking.”

“It’s Regan. Regan Ferguson.”

“Hey! I was just thinking about you.” The older woman’s voice took on a nervous undertone.

“You were?”

“Oh, you know.”

Regan didn’t, and her curiosity was piqued before she took herself in hand. “I was wondering about listing The Inn.”

“Oh, honey! So you and Maddox have had the talk. That’s so great. I’ve known you forever, me and your mom being friends and all, and I must say I wasn’t comfortable holding out on you.”

A trickle of cold warning worked its way down Regan’s spine. She managed a noncommittal, “Hmm.”

“All it’ll take is your signature, but I’ve got two buyers lined up. It’s nice to have a choice, don’t you think? Although both terms are pretty enticing.”

Regan’s knees gave out and she sat on the edge of the bed with an unceremonious splat, her body bowing forward. “Buyers? Two?”

“Did he say differently? Nothing’s changed since we met, oh, it must be a week or so now. The deadline is in about five weeks.”

That would fit within the three-month time frame he’d given her. Regan’s spinning head managed to do the simple math. “Five weeks,” she croaked.

“They want it badly enough to sign up for that amount of leeway,” Margo explained. “Both developers, and Maddox and I know how you feel about that. But progress, you know. Good for you and the town. One has actually submitted an environmental plan. A nice carrot, considering how you worry about the effects of developments on the land. And of course, you should!”

Margo rattled on for some time while Regan tried to apply some other rationale and exonerate Maddox. But in the end, it became painfully clear. He’d lied to her—if by omission. He’d let her half kill herself in crushingly long days to make the necessary changes to bring The Inn up to acceptable standards, bankrolling the paltry attempts, but putting a ceiling on that amount. And all the while plotting behind her back so that when she was forced to accept failure there wouldn’t be more time wasted, searching for a buyer. Cruel to be kind…

How stupid was she? He’d been patiently humoring her, no doubt telling his mother and sister that he needed to do right by his cousin, the country pauper. Why else would he have done it? She didn’t dare come up with any scenarios, seeing as a hefty dollop of humiliation had already been applied to her situation, and with her own heavy hand.

“Regan?” Margo evidently determined she was speaking to a deaf and dumb audience.

“Sorry. Lost in thought.” Her fingers clenched around her phone. A red tinge marred her stare as she gazed at the plank floor, wishing for some way to hurt the man who had unfairly inherited a half of her home and business, all because her father hadn’t a lick of business sense.

Any stupid, longing thoughts regarding him were banished by the fact of his recent action.

Margo asked, “Do you want me to come there? I can easily bundle up the file and be there—”

“No!” She caught herself and listened for anything that might denote someone else—Maddox—inside the house. “No, that’s fine, Margo. I’ll drop by your office.”

“When?” The older woman didn’t bother to hide her eagerness, so the commission was probably substantial.

But timing was the question. She needed a little time. Time to pull herself together and make a new plan. “Tomorrow morning?”

“I could see you at ten, or a little after.”

“I’ll be there.” She hesitated and then went for it. “And Margo? I want this to be a surprise for Maddox, okay?”

“Ah, like a wedding gift.”

“What?”

The other woman coughed. “You’ll have to forgive me. It’s just that he seemed so… That is… Well, I’ve been reading historical romance novels. You know, dowries and such.”

There was absolutely nothing Regan had to say to that, although those same romances were her go-to in the past. Why on earth would Margo even consider Maddox and her in that configuration? She squinched her eyes shut and absently rubbed her sternum with her free hand. Those stupid fantasies… They’d obviously spilled over into daytime and she hadn’t been vigilant in hiding them.

Had the town’s people taken notice? Had she given herself away with desperate, longing glances when she and Maddox had been in town together, picking up supplies and groceries? Dear Lord…

“I’ll see you at ten.” She coaxed her tone into sounding relatively normal.

Forcing her fingers to relinquish their grip, she carefully set her cell on the night table, staring around the room. If she considered everything else in the rest of the place, her head would explode. All the antiques…

Was there anything she simply couldn’t leave behind? The enormity of her subconscious decision stole her air again, and for a few moments, the only sound was her faint panting. And Maddox’s betrayal had provided additional impetus to make a quick, firm break. She should be grateful to him. A snarl of laughter rent the quiet space.

When she mastered herself, she accepted the fact there was nothing outside of her room she couldn’t live without, years of strangers staying at the property had inured her to expect pilfering and loss. Years of dwindling finances had necessitated the sale of the more portable, valuable items.

With a sigh, she focused on the task ahead, knowing it would keep her reasonably sane. Pulling a large, ancient, hard-cover case from under the bed, she took two smaller ones from its depth and began to pack. It went quickly. She had little in the way of clothing, most of it the jeans and shirts reflective of hard labor, and a couple of jackets. A coat and two pairs of shoes joined the rest and she tucked two photo albums along the sides, grateful she’d scanned the rest of the pictures and stored them electronically.

When her door creaked open she froze, staring at it with her heart literally beating in her throat. But it was only Oscar, who sauntered in to give her one of his amber-eyed stares before turning his attention to her luggage.

With a curious grunt, he clambered into the open case and huddled down into the bunch of fabric.

“You’re coming too,” she promised and perched on the bed to smooth his fur. “We have each other, fella.”

A rusty purr emanated from his chest and he butted his head into her hand, eyes slitting shut in apparent relief. The feel of him settled her further and she gathered her thoughts. Her decision to give up The Inn was a good one, no matter that it pinched and how it was brought about. Like being immersed in cold water, shocked, she’d seen it clearly.

It was her cousin sneaking around her back that cut her to the quick. A familial betrayal and those hurt a lot. Another story she was sticking to. The good news was she had no reason—no need—to stick around. Might as well take advantage of Maddox on site to deal with the sale while she … left.

The place she intended to flee to—no, that wasn’t accurate, she was relocating—seemed perfectly reasonable. Montana had colder weather than Vermont, so the jeans and flannel wouldn’t be out of place there. Maybe she’d buy some cowboy boots… A little hitch in her throat had her swallowing down a sob.

With a final stroke to Oscar’s back, she returned to her packing.

Her serviceable underwear, sleepwear, and some toiletries, plus a change of clothing for the road went into the small tote, and her laptop and all the necessary attachments in the middle-sized one. And she was done, aside from a couple of small pictures and trinkets. Those she tucked in her purse. A few pieces of worn clothing would remain behind, and she had clothes for the morning.

All in all, it hadn’t taken any length of time. Foster kids didn’t tend to accumulate a lot of stuff, what with being moved so often. Not that she’d been in care very long, having been adopted by the Fergusons in her formative years. Perhaps she still carried the early lessons, the old luggage a tangible reminder. But at least she wasn’t reduced to using trash bags.

Yanking her thoughts out of the past, before they set off another bout of self-pity, she evicted Oscar so she could close up the large case. He rubbed against her legs, and then slipped out the door while she placed her luggage against the wall. She then went to the small storage room.

The pet carrier was right where she’d left it and she struggled with the boxy shape until she had it out of the corner and hauled back to her room. Oscar weighed a ton, so she changed her mind and, after cautiously surveying the yard for any sign of Maddox, took the carrier out back to her car, popping the hatchback and setting it inside. No way could she carry it and the big cat out in the morning.

The Maine Coon liked car rides, even those to the vet, but she needed a carrier for hotels. Desk clerks would be unlikely to rent a room to a cat the size of a bobcat. She’d also need a litter box, so she slipped back to forage for the oblong plastic container, lucking out with an ancient bag of litter. Oscar took his business outside, but better safe than sorry. Even on a leash he might be too freaked to use a spot outside on their upcoming road trip. Tucking them into the vehicle, she thought she’d covered off the cat.

She massaged the bridge of her nose. Oscar freaked at nothing, unlike her. She was close to screaming the great outdoors down but was going to focus and not think about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. If her cat could maintain aplomb, so could she.

A car door slammed out front and drew her from her reverie. She sprinted to The Inn and hurried inside. There was no way she could face Maddox. Not right now. Not ever. Bastard. She didn’t trust herself and losing it would only be additional humiliation. That was fast becoming her watchword, but oh, how it fit.

Her chest ached again, squeezing and constricting her throat as she stumbled back to her room. Locking the door, she carefully placed her boots beside it, and then stripped out of her clothes, throwing them in the trash can. They were little better than rags, but then she’d been working and was proud of that fact. Except they’d had their day. Like her. She giggled at her incoherent thoughts before the sound abruptly turned into another sob.

Climbing into the shower, she turned it to as hot as she could stand and huddled beneath the spray, willing it to thaw her bones. A few errant tears mingled with the water as she cast her thoughts into the future. One without Maddox. And her ridiculous hope for family. She counted herself fortunate to have options. Well, one. And she could make more if she had to.

Her lavender-infused body wash soothed some of her pain and she shampooed and conditioned with similarly scented products. Her equilibrium slowly returned and she convinced herself that her crush had passed and her outrage was solely because of his betrayal. She was entitled to a crush, an infatuation, and there was no point in berating herself because of it.

Wrapped in a towel and squeezing the dampness out of her hair, she became aware of knocking on her bedroom door.

Quietly treading across the room, she said, “Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

At any other time, the sound of Maddox’s voice would have layered a shivery pleasure across her senses. Now, all she could feel was a sick roiling in her belly. “I just took a shower. Having an early night.”

Her voice came out calm and even, as though it belonged to someone else, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s not even six, Regan. What about dinner?”

What about it? Her appetite had vanished right along with her ridiculous infatuation. “I’m good.”

She could feel him out there, in the hall. A big, handsome example of male virility. A puzzled one.

“What’s wrong?”

He’d argue with her until hell froze over—she knew him well. Exasperated, she yanked a ratty old robe over her towel, one of the items she planned to leave behind, and opened the door. He shoved up from his sprawl against the wall and loomed over her, dark eyes scanning from head to toe.

She wondered what he saw, hoping his betrayal wasn’t written large across her face or simmering in her eyes. She shook her wet hair back and put on her innkeeper’s look on, the one she once wore with entitled guests, polished to perfection over the years.

“Nothing’s wrong, Maddox. I’m tired, is all.”

“You left a full wheelbarrow of plants to be rehomed, at the base of the garden.” His stare lowered to her throat where the robe gaped, before quickly rising back to her face, and she pulled the lapels tighter.

She’d forgotten, having set them out early in the morning before she finished up the drywall. “It can wait until tomorrow.” Or never.

His eyes narrowed and his head tilted slightly. Probably not her usual response, but then she’d been driving herself morning and night to make a good impression, to convince him The Inn could be viable again. A regular one-woman team. Had he been amused by her frantic efforts? Knowing all along she’d fail? She wanted to rip his throat out at the very thought, yet was puzzled by memories of his kindness. His concern just an hour ago… Why would he throw money away? She was in no shape to solve that particular mystery.

“I suppose it can. You’ve been driving yourself into the ground, as I said.”

“Has Karen left?” She wanted to kick herself for asking, but upon reflection, it was the perfect distraction. She didn’t want him appreciating her efforts, not when he’d known they were all for naught. It worked, because he no longer looked suspicious.

“Karen Winters? I saw her pull up. She said she was scouting for a place to hold a wedding.”

If that woman was getting married, it was the first Regan had heard about it. But then it seemed she was the last to know about other things…

“Hers?”

“Her cousin. Juliet? I knew you were busy so I showed her around.”

Regan knew about Juliet Mercer’s upcoming nuptials but no way was Karen seriously inquiring about The Inn. Maybe for pictures, on the grounds—she cut that line of thought right the fuck off. There would be no Inn. Maddox was either being willfully blind to the machinations of that blonde or stringing her along. Karen had no doubt heard about the wealthy businessman or spied him in town, and came to check him out.

Two could play at this game. “Will she let you know? I mean, we should get a date.” She had the bitter satisfaction of seeing Maddox look a tad uncomfortable.

“I asked her to give you a call in a few days,” he replied. “I thought you and I should talk first. Take a look at the big picture.”

“Oh, good.” Her sarcasm leaked through and she was treated to another suspicious stare. How had she ever thought he was invested? That he believed in her—if only as family?

Something in her chest flinched and she ruthlessly ignored it, pasting on a smile. “If that’s all, I’m going to turn in.”

“Do you have a problem with Karen?” He was too close in that moment, his eyes flaring.

Her grip tightened on the edge of the door and she willed him back. “Excuse me?”

“You headed inside rather than come and talk to her. It seemed strange.”

She wanted to vomit from mortification. He’d seen her on the path. Which meant there was a good chance Karen had seen her as well when she’d turned tail and run. The queen bee in high school who made other girls’ lives—like hers—miserable. What did a lovesick, jealous fool look like? Maybe they could take her picture and post it as a fine example of one.

“Nope. No problem. I simply needed a break and you looked like you had it under control. Besides, I am strange.” As a rebuttal, it was plenty weak, and the humor fell short, but for whatever reason, it worked. Maddox withdrew, his intense stare fading, his features blanking.

“I’m heading out. I’ll lock up, you get some rest. You do look as though you need it.”

She bit back the question that sprang to her lips. Was he going to Karen’s? The woman brought her own car so it stood to reason he’d be following in his. And why would he care how she looked? Other than it grated—worn out, miserable, handyman Regan. “Have a good evening.”

She sounded as stilted as a robot and he shook his head, his hand coming up to touch her arm. “I’ll make you something to eat before I go.”

Yanking it away as though burned, she said, “I’m not hungry.” She gave him her back, making her feet carry her back to the attached bath, the heat of his gaze weighing heavily on her shoulders.

“Can we sit down tomorrow and talk, Regan?”

“Sure,” she called back. “After lunch.” Nothing like another lecture she’d be happy to avoid. Maybe he’d reward her for listening like a good little girl. With a kiss. Stupid fairy tales. Not that a fairy tale encompassed what she’d wanted from him—before.

Shutting the bathroom door, she found leaning against the heavy old wood gave her a modicum of support, and she listened for his faint footsteps as he retreated. If Maddox Ferguson ever retreated. However, perhaps he was in a standoff, given the fact she had information he wasn’t aware she possessed.

When she was satisfied he’d left and secured the place, she exited to make her way to the kitchen and cobble together a light meal. It seemed that even a life-changing betrayal couldn’t interfere with her appetite and she briefly considered the pint of cookies ’n cream in the freezer.

Brewing a pot of tea, she spread cheese on toast and sat down to eat, pulling a pad over to make a list of things to cover off before she left. If she thought about it all at once, she would crumble, so she concentrated on the minutia. Cancel the guests, hopefully offering them space at a couple of other B and B’s in the area. Pack a care package for Oscar. Compile a list of creditors who remained to be paid. Note the utility contacts. She’d leave everything else in Maddox’s large, capable, and oh-so-nefarious hands.

As though summoned by her thoughts, the big cat squeezed his bulk through the kitty door—okay, the dog door—and sashayed to his food dish.

“Didn’t you fill up on rodents and unsuspecting birds, animal?”

His lazy, yellow stare rolled her way, reminding her once again such things were beneath his notice before he contemplated his kibble. A quiet yowl suggested that canned food should be forthcoming and she chuckled, surprised she could do so, and then clambered to her feet. One pull tab later, a can of disgusting wet slop filled a bowl, and Oscar applied himself.

She ran a hand over his plush coat. “We’re going away in the morning, boy. Just you and me. Road trip. A long one, to big, wide, empty spaces.” Kind of how her insides felt.

Her words rang in the tiled space and instead of the guilt that should have crushed her to the floor, a curious sense of peace flowed over her. Leaving The Inn, leaving behind the small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business didn’t feel so bad, although surely she’d be lonely. But she’d meet new people. Make new friends, not that she’d seen much of her old ones with the burden of The Inn over the past several years.

And she’d have Oscar and a new life. One that didn’t include the man who had insinuated himself into her world only a few short weeks ago, turning it upside down before spiking it into the hard pavement. It was hard to differentiate the cacophony of emotions, but she was determined not to blame him for her crush. Only for his lack of faith in her.

“I should have seen it coming, Oscar. I was infatuated. In lust.” Because Maddox wasn’t worthy of her love, not after what she’d learned today. Their brief time together, his kindnesses, that thing between them… She turned her thoughts away from the past.

The cat arched into her hand as if to offer comfort while continuing to gorge himself. As if he understood. Oscar had been neutered at six months, so what would he know of lust? But he’d liked Maddox too, right from the beginning, even sleeping on his bed, and her cat was usually a good judge of character. Until he wasn’t.

“Eat hearty, kitty. No breakfast for you. No puking in the car.” She wouldn’t confine him in the crate until they stopped for the night. And he’d be fine in the vehicle while she stopped at the bank and the real estate office. Already her mind was leaping ahead by leaps and bounds.

She made all the necessary calls, her competition pleased to offer the alternate accommodations and the guests reluctantly accepting the change in plans, a couple gratifyingly dismayed that the historic inn was destined for the wrecking ball.

Putting it so baldly forced Regan to burn her final bridge, abandon any hope, and she punched off the last call with a trembling finger. She took a walk through the old building, sliding her hand over the worn-smooth-by-age, but now solid, banister, hearing the creaking of the stair treads with heightened senses.

The dust from earlier sanding was everywhere and she supposed she should be grateful it wasn’t her worry to clean up. She poked her head into her favorite rooms, noting the furniture and décor, saying goodbye. Her parents’ room, now the honeymoon suite, was the most difficult to view, and she clenched her fists.

The place had dignity and huge appeal if one liked dual-century-old dwellings, but many of the walls boasted little to no insulation, despite the smooth surface and updated electrical, a problem in the Vermont winters. The carpets were worn and the bathrooms ancient, despite the more recent corrected plumbing issues. She had to face it, everything was tired, as tired as she was feeling. It was a money pit and Maddox’s spending limit made it impossible to attain all the necessary changes, at least past addressing the actual safety issues. She again wondered at his motivation for throwing good money away as she peered out a window.

The grounds were the best of the entire place, where she’d spent most of her time when her father was alive, running The Inn, even as a child when her mother helped him. She didn’t dwell on the circumstances of their deaths and was determined to forgive her father for leaving her so precipitously and saddling her with debt. And Maddox.

The numbers tomorrow would speak for themselves, but at least she had some kind of inheritance, and hopefully enough to keep her going while she obtained her Master Gardener diploma.

When she could wait no longer, she placed another call, having taken the time difference into consideration.

“Regan? Is that you?” Gloria’s voice boomed through the phone.

“Hey.”

“I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I’ve been … busy. Trying to make a go of The Inn.”

“Honey, that’s such a big job. Did that estranged cousin of yours hang around?”

He wasn’t really her cousin. He’d been born into the Ferguson family, possessed of the family name—while she’d merely fallen into it. Regan reminded herself he hadn’t known she existed until her father’s will was read and that it must have been a shock to him and his mother and sister. She supposed she should consider herself lucky she had a leg to stand on, being female and of unknown ancestry. “He’s still here.”

“Is he helping you?”

“He paid for the immediate things, Gloria, and helped me with the heavy stuff. But he sees The Inn as a bottomless pit and I can’t blame him.” In truth, she couldn’t. She’d been on borrowed time—and money. She made a mental note to have Margo write in the papers that Maddox should receive reimbursement for all the monies he’d put into it, no matter how much it cut into her half.

“It’s an old place, for sure,” Gloria said. “The historical society should take it over.”

“We have enough buildings for them to deal with. Developers want it.”

“Of course they do. A prime piece of real estate like that. Chop it up and ruin it.”

Regan couldn’t let herself think about it. The old trees… “Gloria, you told me I could come and stay with you…”

“And I meant it. I can always use another pair of hands around here.”

“I want to get my diploma. I don’t know how much money I’ll have when the dust settles, but I’m signing the papers tomorrow and I’d like to come your way.”

“Bozeman U does have that course, doesn’t it? I expect you could teach them a thing or two, though.”

Appreciating the vote of confidence, Regan said, “I might be able to, but I need the credentials to work as a Master Gardener.”

“And you think Montana has a call for Master Gardeners?” The idea clearly amused her mother’s old friend.

“I’m sure it does, but regardless, I would have a place to stay—with someone I know, and I can help out, too. And when I graduate I’ll look for jobs anywhere.”

The other woman was silent for several heartbeats. “Regan, did something happen? With that cousin?”

She wanted to confide in Gloria but hadn’t yet sorted it all out in her own head, so she evaded. Maddox hadn’t done anything to her, not really, at least not what her mom’s friend probably thought. If only he had, she might have some memories to keep her warm at night—and probably a broken heart. “It hit me today that I was losing an uphill battle, have been for years, I guess. And that things weren’t how they seemed. I … I’ve lost my attachment to this place. It really feels time to let go before I dig in any deeper.”

She didn’t tell the older woman about Maddox’s actual perfidy, not having the energy to hear what would be a considerable outburst. Again she wondered why he had let her try so freaking hard when he had no intention of seeing it through. And she most definitely wasn’t telling Gloria about her infatuation, especially now it was over. Maddox had never fed it—she’d second-guessed those heated looks and misread his charm. As for that one kiss, nobody in their right mind would attach any significance to it. And repetition didn’t make her denial any more helpful.

“If that man has as much money as I suspect he has, he could have paid for all the updates,” Gloria grumbled. “I know how much The Inn meant to you, honey. But maybe it’s for the best you’re drawing back. Young people need a change, an adventure, and you aren’t really cut out for the actual innkeeping side. Nature’s more your style, the great outdoors.”

The emotional onslaught was taking its toll, but one thing was clear. She needed to leave and put some distance between her and her childhood home. A clean break was imperative because even knowing it was the right thing to do, seeing it bulldozed and the grounds carved up would hurt. “It’ll take me a few days to drive there, but I’ll stay in touch, okay?”

“You’ll be welcome. Are you bringing that beast of a cat?”

“Is it all right?” If Oscar couldn’t come…

“Certainly. But there are coyotes around the ranch, and we have a thriving barn cat population, so be prepared.”

Believing that Oscar would carve out his niche without any problem, she thanked her honorary aunt and ducked her head in relief. She and Oscar had a home to go to, and that was half the battle. Her car wasn’t the latest model, but Maddox had insisted that it be serviced and fitted with new tires, so it would get her there, something else she owed him.

A stop at the bank in the morning to clean out her insignificant savings was on the agenda and she figured she had enough for gas and meals. Maybe a couple of inexpensive hotels. If not, she’d sleep in the car. Oscar was the perfect deterrent to anyone looking to bother her.

Deciding to finish loading the vehicle that night instead of trying to avoid notice the next morning in the event Maddox came home—she was definitely going to avoid him, period—she hauled her cases outside, still wearing her robe, shoving her feet into her boots. The cat accompanied her, and she gently discouraged him from jumping into the interior.

“You’ll be inside for long enough, come tomorrow, animal.”

She slammed the door, disconcerted at the dearth of her possessions, but stuff really did mean very little, she’d discovered. With one last, long glance around the yard, her gaze following the long sweep of lawn, interspersed with flower beds and clumps of century-old trees, down to the meandering creek, she headed back inside. Her belly clenched with anticipation if her heart hurt from the loss.

Oscar didn’t follow her to her room, and she suspected that he’d have one last night with Maddox if he came home. A miserable grin twisted her lips. She hadn’t managed one. She’d been frustrated, and not a little embarrassed but was totally grateful, now. What if she’d made some kind of move…? Well, absolute mortification might have been too much to bear.

She berated herself even as she read her latest book—a sci-fi, and not a historical romance, thank goodness—telling herself she’d never be so stupid again. Her experience with the opposite sex before Maddox came along hadn’t prepared her very much, but she’d learned this lesson well.

She’d come to like him, too, once she got past the fact her future was in his hands, and look how that turned out. Both she and Oscar had been tricked. The cat would no doubt miss him, but he’d adapt. And enough of the mind-wracking.

She read until the shadows crept about the room and her eyes grew dry and strained from trying to make sense of the written word while her thoughts continued to churn off in different directions. Maddox didn’t come back, not that she cared what he did, it was merely a habit of hers to listen for the last person home. And she certainly didn’t torment herself with visions of him and Karen. In the end, she flicked off the light and resolutely sought sleep. The following day would be the first day of the rest of her new life.