Chapter Thirteen

One should never feel sick when they are going home, but that’s exactly how I felt when I approached the door of my old home. I couldn’t even call it my parents’ anymore. Long gone was the cutesy wreath Mom had made with the big C on it and the tacky pink bow to complete the ensemble. Did I ever miss it. Now the only thing left standing were the large double pine doors that Josephine had decided to paint red. It looked as if someone had drenched them in pig’s blood. Who knew, maybe she used the extra blood afterward for her rituals with her coven. Okay. Okay. I couldn’t think like that. I’d promised Sawyer I would try and get to know his mother better while I helped her plan the Farewell to Summer dance. Even though I was still miffed about her stealing my theme, the Lady of Carrington Ranch.

Sawyer. I had to keep repeating his name in my head. I was doing this for him. Though he had been acting strange and a bit irritable since we’d gone camping. He said he wanted to talk to me alone, but this week had been crazy busy, so there had been no time for it. At work I had KPI reports due, not to mention safety training, which was a huge deal considering I worked around molten steel and fire. Then I’d been called into work one day after my shift was over due to a furnace on the strand going out.

On Sawyer’s end, he was the doctor on call this month which meant he’d had some late evenings too. Not to mention I had to be here tonight with the wicked stepmommy. I offered to beg this off so we could talk, but Sawyer begged me to do it. It was only fair since I’d convinced him to have dinner with his dad and Bridget tomorrow night. Maybe we could talk after that. I was more than curious about what was so important to him that he didn’t want to do it over the phone and he wanted us to be completely alone with lots of available time. If tomorrow night didn’t work, it would have to wait until the next week when I returned from my AIST conference in Alabama. I was flying out Saturday as soon as my soccer game was over.

The American Iron and Steel Technology Conference and Exposition was kind of nerdy, but I loved it. Even cooler this year was that it was taking place at the Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville. I hadn’t been there since my parents sent me out to Space Camp when I was twelve. Pretending to do space missions was the best week of my young life. Besides it being cool, I needed the professional development hours.

I took a deep breath and went to open the blood red door, but then I remembered that Josephine had asked that I knock. She felt it was the polite thing to do. I debated on whether to, one, walk right in or, two, walk right back to my Jeep. Sawyer. Fine. I knocked on the stupid door and waited and waited. The longer I waited the more annoyed I became. I became particularly irked when I’d noticed the white rocking chairs that used to sit on the wraparound porch were gone. They’d been replaced with some awful black futuristic-shaped polypropylene chairs. How did you even sit on those? This was a ranch, not an art museum. Did my father approve of these? I couldn’t picture him sitting in one. I knew my butt was never hitting one. If it did, I think it might slide right back off.

Finally, Dad answered the door. His brown eyes looked tired when he tried to muster a smile for me. I hadn’t talked to him since we’d had our disagreement, which seemed to happen more often than not when we talked now. I never imagined that being the case. Growing up, I never understood when my friends couldn’t talk to their parents, especially their dads. My dad talked to me about anything, even periods. He’d told me it was just a biological function and there was nothing to be embarrassed about. It was nothing for him to shop for feminine hygiene products, and with four women in the house it was a regular occurrence.

I looked down at my sandaled feet and then back up at him. “Hi, Dad.”

His smile grew a fraction. “Hey, honey.” He pulled me to him for a hug.

His arms felt like home, making it not matter that the surroundings no longer felt as such. I sank into his chest and breathed in his wood scent.

He stroked my hair. “Honey—”

“Emma, you finally made it,” Josephine shrieked.

Finally? I was on time.

I refused to leave my dad’s arms. I buried my head deeper into his chest as if I could bore a hole in there and hide from his new wife.

Like an excavator, she ripped Dad away from me. “Dane, honey.” She gave me what I would call a gloating smile. “We have lots of women things to discuss. Why don’t you run along?”

Why was she always treating my dad like a child? And since when had the dance become a woman thing? Mom always loved Dad’s input. Dad knew the best stringed lights to use and where to place them, as well as great food suggestions, and he always made sure to get in which songs he wanted Grady’s band to play. They were usually slow country songs. Dad loved to take Mom for a spin and do the two-step with her. That was when he wasn’t holding her close for all the slow songs.

Dad gave me a defeated look before grabbing his cowboy hat from the rack near the door and shoving it on his head. “I’ll be out with Ray and the boys,” he grumbled. He was talking about the wranglers, Ray being the head of them. He didn’t even say goodbye to me.

I thought about going after him until I heard the dulcet tones of my sisters fighting with each other. Something about quit trying to be nice to me, I’m still mad at you. That was from Macey, who was normally the sweeter of the two. I wondered what Marlowe had done this time.

Josephine gave me a narrow-eyed glare before spinning on her heels and heading back toward the dining room. Who wore heels at home? Or her short dress ensemble for that matter? I almost mentioned she should really get those varicose veins on the back of her legs checked out, but I remembered who I was here for and kept my mouth shut.

My sisters were in the dining room giving each other stink eyes in between rifling through all the shiny things on the table. It looked like a Las Vegas showgirl’s show exploded on it with all the sparkles, but I had to say I was glad it was covering up the stupid black lacquer table Stepmommy Dearest bought to replace the old oak table where so much love and good food had been shared. At least I had been able to make sure Frankie’s family got that table.

“Hey girls, what are you doing?” I sing-songed.

“Helping plan the dance,” Marlowe responded, annoyed.

Was all this sparkly crap for the dance? The dance that took place in the barn?

“I’m surprised you’re sticking around since you can’t even help me at our boutique,” Macey fired back at her.

Marlowe threw down some sparkly silver fabric she had been holding. “How many times do I have to apologize to you? I’m sorry I didn’t make it back on time Sunday.”

“You had all of Saturday off!” Macey threw a string of fake diamonds at her.

Marlowe caught them with ease. “You can have this Saturday off, brat!”

It was hard to remember sometimes that they were twenty-five. I felt Mom channeling me. “Ladies, come on. Let’s be nice. I’m sure Marlowe has a good reason for not showing up on Sunday.” For the record I didn’t really think that, but Mom would have said it.

Marlowe stood up stick straight. “I do, as a matter of fact, but it’s not anyone’s business.”

Ah. Now I knew why it was days later and Macey was still upset. Marlowe was keeping a secret from her. Those two shared everything.

Josephine began tsking. “We have work to do.”

Macey and Marlowe both huffed but said nothing more on the matter.

I drew closer to the table to see what I was dealing with before I started offering my ideas.

Before I could do anything, though, Josephine shoved a black invitation with sparkling silver letters in my hand. “These are the invites.”

She’d already had them made? I looked down at it and read, The Lady of Carrington Presents a Black-Tie Affair. Black tie? “Are we holding the dance in the barn?”

Josephine curled her lips. “Yes,” she sighed. “I tried talking Dane out of it, but it was the one thing he wouldn’t budge on. This would be so much better at the country club in Pine Falls.”

“Except it’s not at the Ranch, which is kind of the point of the Farewell to Summer dance.”

“That name is so trite.”

I flexed my fingers and pressed my lips together before I let her have it. My mother had come up with that name. Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer, I repeated in my head, trying to calm down.

Josephine must have known I wanted to unleash my fury on her. Her dark eyes dared me to. Even Macey and Marlowe were waiting by their expectant eyes.

I disappointed them all by biting my tongue. “Okay, so have you talked to Grady and his band about this new theme and the dress code?” The invite stated formal attire required, which had me seething, but I was doing my best to keep my cool.

Josephine let out an evil laugh. “You’re so funny, Emma. I’m hiring a big swing band out of Denver.”

“What? Grady’s band has always played.”

Josephine snatched the invite out of my hand. “Things are changing around here, if you haven’t noticed.”

Believe me I had, and I hated it with all that I was. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. I looked to my sisters for some help. They each in turn refused to look at me.

“I, for one, think this is a great idea. I have the perfect dress in mind,” Marlowe chimed in.

“It’s fun trying something new.” Macey braved looking at me and gave me a sympathetic smile.

Josephine gave me a victorious smile. “You know, I think we have it handled here. If I need anything, I’ll let you know. Feel free to run along.”

I looked at Marlowe and Macey to give them one more chance to say something on my behalf, or at least Mom’s. Heck, they could have even asked me to stay, but they kept their heads down. I stared at them anyway. “A person who doesn’t remember their roots is always in danger of falling. Just remember who will always be there to pick you up when you do.”

“That’s touching, Emma,” Josephine mocked. “Have a good night.”

I turned around and marched myself right out of there. I only stopped to scowl at the stupid piece of paint-smattered canvas that Josephine made and called it art hanging above the fireplace where our last family picture had hung. For all I knew, Dad had let her burn that picture. A deep ache in my chest had me catching my breath. I pushed myself out the door in search of Frankie, someone who still had some sanity on this ranch. Instead, I ran right into Ashton, who was coming into the house. Apparently, he didn’t have to knock.

“Sorry.” I slammed the door behind me.

“Hey there, are you okay?” He sounded so much like his brother, but when I looked up at him, his eyes didn’t hold the comfort that Sawyer’s did.

I was about to give him a general fine response and move on, but then I remembered I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him over the weekend about Macey. He was gone more than he was around. I hope he got that job he said he had been interviewing for. I thought maybe I should ask him about that first. “Have you heard back from the company you interviewed with over the weekend?”

He rubbed the back of his neck like his brother did on occasion. “It was more of a head hunter situation. I’m trying to keep my options open.”

“Oh, well, I hope they can help you. Not that we won’t miss your Elvis impressions at the weddings here.”

He laughed. “I’m trying to find something that will allow me to do both.”

“Great.”

He reached around me to get the door.

“Wait. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

He gave me his full attention. “Shoot.”

I bit my lip. “This might be kind of awkward.”

He gave me a devilish smile. “I love awkward.”

“All right then. It’s just, I noticed at the family barbecue a couple of weeks ago that you and Macey left together and—”

He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Let me stop you right there. First of all, she’s my stepsister,” he smirked, “not to mention she’s a kid.”

I’m glad he recognized that. I nodded.

“She came back to the bunkhouse with me because I had an old vinyl of Frank Sinatra she wanted to borrow.”

I didn’t even know Macey knew who that was. Maybe she was using it for some inspiration for this godforsaken dance I was thinking about not attending. “Oh, okay.”

He patted my shoulders. “Don’t worry, sis, I would never do anything to hurt this family or make it awkward.” He gave me a wink.

Yeah, I suppose dating your stepsibling would be the definition of awkward. Too bad that was one awkward situation I would never find myself in.