Page 7 of Holding The Reins

“And no plans to set an actual wedding date? I was hoping to walk my daughter down the aisle before I check out.”

“Dad.”

“Sorry, baby, but I know my time is limited and I want to know—no, I need—to know you’re happy. You’re the most important thing in the world to me. I worry you’re not getting what you deserve, which is all the happiness your heart can hold.”

I pat his hand across the sofa.

“Andrew loves me.”

“But does he love you enough? A man should be there for you no matter what, so long as the creek don’t rise.”

I laugh at his age-old saying.

“And I’m sorry, baby, but a few clients settling isn’t exactly a natural disaster, if that’s even what’s really going on.”

I let the tears slide down my cheeks as I nod. How does my dad always know? I haven’t been happy in months. I have a strong feeling Andrew is sleeping around on me. And when I get home, I’m going to be paying extra attention to him to see if I’m right, but I can’t say anything now. The last thing I want to do is cause my sweet dad stress, especially now.

“Promise me something, CeCe Rae.” I look up at his hallow face, a ghost of the face he used to have, a ghost of the man that he used to be. Cancer has ruined him, but experimental treatment this Thanksgiving has given us this last Christmas with him and for that, I’m so grateful.

I choke back a sob and wipe my tears.

“Anything,” I say.

“Just don’t settle, baby. Find a man that will move heaven and earth for you. A man that knows your worth. You should be his entire heart, always.”

“I promise,” I say as I squeeze his hand.

“Cecilia Rae Ashby, get your shit kickin’ ass up!”

My eyes fly open, expecting to see the ceiling of my Seattle bedroom. The moment they open, pain floods my head.

“Ow…” I groan.

“Yeah, I guess so. Jesus Christ, CeCe. Home less than twenty-four-hours and so far you’ve managed to shock the whole town with your… lady gear”—Oh God—“almost get yourself kicked out of the Horse and Barrel, and get into a fight with the mother of my child. What are you gonna do today? Set town hall on fire? Push Grady Thompson into traffic on his way to Spicer’s Sweets for his morning coffee? I can’t always save your ass, you know. It’s about time you grow up some.”

“Cole… stop shouting at me… my head,” I whine as I open one eye to see my pissed-off-as-fuck older brother, the middle child in our family, standing over me. Large and in charge, hands on his hips like he’s about to scold me the way he would Mabel if she misbehaved.

“You’re scary like this,” I mutter as I bury my head in the pillow.

“Good. Maybe you’ll learn to behave next time. You ain’t sleeping in on my watch, get up.”

I groan again.

“Hear you drank Nash out of sangria last night with your band of merry mates.”

Dammit, Nash. I’m too hungover for this.

“Water. I need water,” I mutter.

“I’m here to hang your curtains and get you settled. I put water and Tylenol on your bedside table. Get up and clean this place up, God’s sakes, girl.”

“Thank you, Cole.”

“You’re welcome, asshole.” His dark eyes soften. “Glad you’re home though,” he grunts and I smile into my pillow. I’m the only person on earth besides Mabel that he can’t stay angry at.

I chug down the water and Tylenol and lay back in my bed, listening to Cole crash around. After thirty minutes passes, it no longer hurts to open my eyeballs.

I get up reluctantly, tossing on my fluffy fleece robe over my pajamas.

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