Page 41 of Chasing Home

My pulse pounds in my ears, the sound of it so horrendously loud that for a moment, I worry that they’ll start to bleed.

With the envelope torn open at the top, I tug the letter free from inside before unfolding it. When I read the first sentence, I stop hearing my pulse. And when I get to the bottom of the page . . . I stop feeling my lungs inflate too.

Scrolling down the computer screen, I nurse my coffee and tap my foot anxiously. The clock on the top right of the screen tells me it’s only been one minute since the last time I looked over my shoulder at the door to the office that I left open. I can’t help but risk another peek.

There’s still nobody there, and I feel like an idiot immediately for hoping otherwise. It doesn’t matter, I remind myself. We didn’t actually agree on a date. It was just a joke. A way for us to fill the silence. I roll my shoulders and collect myself with a reassuring inhale.

Opening back up the budget file for last quarter, I ignore the instant blast of alarm at the number spent and remind myself that things here work differently than I’m used to, even in the corporate world. The money going in is still four or five times the sum going out, and that’s . . . well, that’s incredible. Steele Ranch is a marvel in and of itself. Learning the inner workings of an organization like this is turning out to come with quite a learning curve, but I’m more than ready for the challenge.

It keeps me busy too. I enjoy the focus.

“I should have known that you were hiding away in here again.”

Eliza’s words are calm enough not to scare me. I spin out from the desk and toward the doorway. She’s frowning at me, but I pay it no mind.

“I told you that I won’t be going out there to spend my lunch break with all those loud men,” I say.

She wipes her palms over the white lace of her apron that hugs her stomach. “I’ve warned them to be quiet when you’re out there. They’ll be on their best behaviour.”

I cock my head, levelling her with a disbelieving stare. “Is that so?”

“Okay, fine. Maybe they’ll still be a bit loud. But I don’t want you in here by yourself all day. You need to eat before they leave you with the scraps.”

“I assure you that I haven’t been going hungry, Eliza.”

She hums, a no-good smile flashing back at me. “Oh? And who has been keeping you fed, my sweet?”

“You’re a shit disturber, Eliza Steele.”

“And you’re an expert question avoider, but I don’t pick on you about that, hmm?”

I roll my eyes. “You do pick on me about it.”

“It must be my old age, then. Silly me. I forget things so often,” she says with a dramatic sigh.

“Maybe that’s why I heard Brody asking Wade about which old folks’ home he was going to stick you in before he left.”

Her gasp is loud enough I wouldn’t doubt the cattle in the furthest pasture could hear it. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at her disturbed expression and remind myself that she so deserves this teeny tiny fib.

“You’re lyin’,” she declares, a hand to her mouth.

“Do I look like a liar?”

Squinting her eyes, she leans forward an inch as if inspecting me before saying, “Yes.”

“Eliza!” I cry, mouth parted wide.

The lines beside her mouth become more prominent when she grins wide and laughs. “You started it, my dear. As if my boys would ever consider sending me to a home. If anyone is going to go to a home, it’ll be Wade for how often he gives me sass for my farmers’ market hauls.”

“Alright, well, that sounds fair, at least. Does he know that he’s tempting his fate when he does that?”

“Of course he does. Stubborn man thinks he can spend damn near a half million at an auction, but when I come home with three bags of jam, that’s a problem?” She clucks her tongue as if she’s annoyed, but the light in her eyes is bright, betraying her.

“What do you need three bags of jam for?”

She waves me off with a dainty hand in the air. “Oh no. Not you too. Keep teasing me and I won’t tell you where your missing lunch date is.”

My cheeks heat instantly. “What?”

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