Page 17 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

Eryn’s mouth tightened. “I suppose you’re right, but I don’t have to like it.”

Keith huffed and turned away. “I’m going out to the deep freeze for those cookies Karen sent over the other day.”

And off he went, leaving Maxwell with Eryn, whose lips were tight as she glared after her father.

Oh, boy. Maxwell was in the middle of it now. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

She turned her piercing blue eyes on him. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that sort of thing.”

“You have me there, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Why are you here, Maxwell? Because as soon as your mother knows Dad lost the farm, she definitely won’t want us seeing each other. Not that we are. Or want to be.”

She was cute when she was flustered, but Maxwell was smart enough not to smile. This was a serious, life-changing moment they’d found themselves in.

And Maxwell was a problem solver, so his mind had instantaneously jumped the tracks in search of solutions.

What had Weston said the other day about Joseph, the guy who ran the farming operations at Sweet River? He was hoping to retire soon. Wasn’t that it?

“Excuse me a minute.” Maxwell pivoted on his heel as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and made for the front door.

“Can’t get out of here fast enough now?” Eryn mocked.

“I’ll be right back for that cup of tea. Cookies also sound good.” Maxwell headed to the car for a modicum of privacy and tapped his cousin’s number. “Hey, Weston? I’ve got a question for you.”

“Where did he go?” Cookie tin in hand, Dad looked around the kitchen.

“Who knows?” Eryn shook her head. “He zipped out of here like the house was on fire, but he said he’d be back.”

She doubted it, because why would he? If Maxwell, like his mother, had assumed some sort of prosperity, he’d be off to Montana on the next flight. He’d never bother with a pauper. All of which didn’t matter, because that was only the most obvious reason they weren’t suited for each other.

Amelia had drooled over the cute boy he’d been more than once in that journal.

Not that Eryn wanted to continue reading… except it was impossible to stop.

“Okay.” Dad opened the tin and set some of the cookies on a plate.

Eryn fixed the tea. Three cups because, who knew, Dad might be right.

“Sorry about that.” Maxwell reappeared in the doorway. “I had a phone call I needed to make.” He looked between Eryn and Dad as though he thought it mattered to them.

She needed to get her head on straight. Dealing with her twin’s things — especially the diaries — had taken its toll on Eryn’s optimism. Not that she had much of that naturally. Life had been too hard to cling to it.

None of it was Maxwell’s fault. He wasn’t part of the problem, and he wasn’t part of the solution. She could enjoy another half hour in his presence before saying a permanent farewell. Hadn’t she done that yesterday? Yet here they were again.

“The tea is ready. Do you take anything in yours?” She transferred the three cups to the table.

“Honey if you have some, or sugar is fine.”

Eryn nodded. “We have honey.” She set the little squeeze bear on the table and took the seat nearest the stove.

Maxwell sat around the corner from her, across from Dad, and accepted a peanut butter cookie from the plate. He stirred honey into his tea before looking between them again. “Keith, what kind of equipment does wheat farming require?”

Eryn blinked. Of all the questions she might have dreamed he’d ask, this was not one of them.

“The usual. Tractor, combine.” Dad shrugged.

“You use big equipment here? How many acres is this place?”

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