Page 44 of Sweet Poison

“Nothing.”

“Why are you so distracted?” he demanded.

“I’m not distracted. I was getting a bit of fresh air before your guests arrive.”

“Well, they’ll be here any minute,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I groaned.

“Hurry up and wash your hands and maybe change?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled to myself until it occurred to me what he had just said. I looked at him curiously. “Change? What does that mean?”

“Just throw something nicer on, you’ve been in jeans all day.”

“These are my new pair of jeans. I had a shower thirty minutes ago, remember?”

“Throw on something else,” he said and turning away, went back into the house.

I ran after him because a dark suspicion began to rise in my heart.

“Oh no, you don’t just say that and disappear. What do you mean?”

“It’s dinner.” He sighed. “So maybe a dress?”

I gasped. “You traitor.”

He chuckled in amusement.

“I just want what’s best for you, sweetheart.”

“Jesse is not good enough, but the complete stranger you know nothing about who rolls into town is.”

“I like him. I’m not going to be around forever, so if I see someone I think is going to be good for you, I’m going to point you in that direction to see if anything positive happens as a result.”

I was silent because it took me a few seconds to process this.

“He has a kid. You don’t mind?” I asked, still surprised.

“So? She’s young, and the way he takes care of her, tells me he’s a fine man and a good provider. Trust me, you could do worse. Why do you think I’ve never suggested anyone else to you? Plus, there’s something about him. He’s no ordinary hick even if he’s pretending he is. I sense a refinement and a sense of culture, and can you blame me that I want you to be associated with the best?”

“Dad, you’re talking as if you want to get rid of me.”

“But someday I won’t be any here longer, and I don’t want to leave without ensuring you’re taken care of.”

“Then don’t leave, Dad,” I said.

“Ever?” he asked, with a little teasing smile.

I stared at him and the back of my eyes began to sting.

“Sorry, Buttercup,” he said gently. “That knock on the door is coming for me. Just like it came for your mother.”

Chapter 27

Cole

I drove through the gates of the ranch and felt a strange sense of homecoming, belonging even. Strange, as I had grown up in the busy-busy-busy city with skyscrapers all around me and people packed as tightly as sardines, and all these peaceful rolling sparse lands should have been unnerving, but I found it relaxing and welcoming.

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