Page 34 of The Feud

Ethan takes a deep breath and picks up his glass. “Never let it be said that the Blackburns and Mardraggons don’t know how to carry grudges well. There’s a lot more throughout history that intensified the feud. Throughout time each family tried to ruin the other when there was opportunity, over and over again.”

“How so?”

“Land disputes where the Mardraggons used their political power to steal acreage from my family. During Prohibition, we used our political power to deny licenses for the Mardraggons to continue selling bourbon for medicinal purposes. You name it, some sneaky ulterior motive has been levied against the other. I think you’re seeing the modern-day version of the feud rearing its ugly head and Sylvie’s caught in the middle.”

“Except you’re not fighting for Sylvie to get back at the Mardraggons.”

His gaze pierces into me. “No, I’m not. I’m fighting for her because she is my blood. The Mardraggons, however, are most certainly trying to get the upper hand in this situation. The mere fact that they’re filling her head with poison just shows you how spiteful they are.”

“I believe you have Sylvie’s best interests in mind. I also believe Sylvie is a smart girl with a big heart. She’s got a hole in it right now and I think your family is the one that’s going to fill it.”

Ethan’s gaze softens. “Thank you for saying that. For acknowledging and trusting it.”

The bartender returns, interrupting our conversation to take our orders. We both go for steak since it’s what the restaurant is renowned for in its early stages—a ribeye for Ethan and filet for me.

While we wait for our salads, Ethan asks, “You said Carmen has a sore throat. Will she be able to show this weekend?”

Carmen is scheduled to debut her new horse, Lady Beatrice, which Michelle bought from Blackburn Farms the week before last. “I sure hope so. If it’s strep, she’s good to go once she starts on antibiotics. Michelle said she’ll call me later with an update.”

“Are you coming to the horse show? I mean, I know you come to pretty much all of them.”

I blink in surprise that he’s noticed but try to cover it up with a casual smile. “Of course I’ll be there.”

“You should come to the after-party Saturday night. There’s going to be catered barbeque, a band and a mechanical bull that the kids love to ride on.” Is… Ethan asking me out on a date? Surely not, but despite my best protests that I’m not interested in going out with anyone, my heart races. He taps a finger on the bar top. “Maybe we could facilitate some type of friendship between Carmen and Sylvie. I don’t know if she’s making friends at school, but Carmen is a sweet girl and I think it would be good if Sylvie had someone her age she could pal around with.”

My heart plummets. Of course, he isn’t interested in me in any way other than for my guidance and help with Sylvie. I brush away the disappointment and put on a bright smile. “I’m sure Michelle would love to invite Sylvie for a sleepover. I bet the girls will be fast friends.”

“Even better, I’ll have Sylvie at Carmen’s next training session and maybe we can convince her to get up on a horse after she meets Carmen.”

Michelle and Carmen live outside of Shelby County toward Louisville where we grew up, so Carmen is in a different school system, but she rides at Blackburn Farms three to four times a week. It would be easy for the girls to spend time together and I have no doubt that they’d hit it off. Carmen has a natural empathy within her that would hopefully resonate with Sylvie and give her a friend she could open up to.

I aim to give Ethan additional assurances since Sylvie is truly the only thing the two of us have in common and he’s only focused on that. “I’ve been keeping my eye on Sylvie at school. She’s acclimating well and her teachers say she’s so bright and engaging. She’s actually ahead of most of the students.”

Ethan chuckles. “She very proudly told me some of the compliments she’s getting from her teachers. I’m thrilled she’s a good student because I don’t have it in me to fight with her over homework or attendance. So that’s one plus.”

I laugh. I’ll have to give Ethan that one. After all the stressors he’s been under the last few weeks, there is nothing wrong with him being grateful to have a small win.

The bartender appears, setting salads and glasses of water before us, breaking the conversation as we unroll our utensils. I busy myself cutting into the lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers. In the silence, I try to think of more interesting things to say about Sylvie so we don’t lapse into awkward silence.

I’m reaching for the pepper shaker when Ethan startles me. “How long were you married to that asshole?”

I’m shocked at the change in subject from Sylvie to something personal in my life.

From a man who generally intimidates and flusters me.

“Married for four years and divorced about a year and a half.”

“Was he always an asshole or did that develop later?” I twist my neck to stare at Ethan. It’s an intrusive question, but God is it a good one. Whenever I try to evaluate where things went wrong, I replay the timeline of my marriage to see if I can identify if I was a fool from the start or if George changed over the course of our relationship.

“You know,” I reply after a pause to reflect, “I’m not sure. But when I think back on our entire history, one thing is clear… George was always self-centered. I think the problem was with me though.”

His eyebrows rise before pulling into a frown. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I let him treat me badly and I still tried to make it work.”

Ethan’s green eyes pin me in place. “So, you weren’t self-centered enough.”

I chuff a laugh. “That’s one way to look at it.”

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