Page 7 of See It Through

My mom popped a piece of watermelon into her mouth and walked over to pop one in mine. “Delicious, right?”

“Mmm. Like sugar.”

She smoothed her palm over my hair and patted my cheek. “By your lack of dishevelment, I’m guessing today was a paperwork day.”

I snorted. “You guessed right.”

My mother was the girliest girl. Ultra-feminine, always wearing beautiful clothes, impeccably put together. Originally from California, she looked the part but fit in on the ranch like a fish in water. Sugar Brush River Ranch wasn’t any ol’ ranch, though. It was also a world-class resort. Our thirty-thousand acres had been in the Kelly family for generations, but the resort had only been added fifty years ago. Three presidents’ children had been married in the chapel, and many more celebrities and billionaires had vacationed here.

My mother ran the resort’s marketing department, though Dad was tempting her to retire with him sooner rather than later. Despite who she was—glamorous, fastidious with her image, a fashion maven—she’d never imposed that on me, letting me be myself. Sometimes that meant I was filthy and smelled like horse. Other times, I’d put on a dress, my best cowboy boots and add a bow in my hair. My mom might’ve teased me about it, but she’d never once made me feel like she’d disapproved of who I was and the choices I’d made.

In short, my parents were awesome. I understood enough about the world to know they were rare jewels, and I was a lucky girl to have come from this family. I certainly hadn’t done anything to earn it, but I didn’t take any of my people for granted.

Phoebe turned away from the stove, a wooden spoon poised in her hand. “What was weird about the day?”

I took a seat across from my dad and exhaled a heavy breath. “You’ll never guess who showed up at the house.”

My mom pursed her lips. “Remi Town.”

I jerked in surprised. “Okay, I stand corrected. You guessed.”

She flicked her manicured nails. “I ran into him at the grocery store last night. He acted like I should have recognized him, so of course I pretended I had no clue who he was.”

“Ellie,” Dad drawled. “Be sweet.”

She went to him, and he snagged her around the waist as soon as she was close enough. Her lips met the top of his head, her hand, his cheek. “I’m always sweet, Lachlan. But the arrogance of a man expecting to be remembered when he’s been gone without a word for more than a decade got me in a tizzy.”

Phe laughed. “You’ve never been in a tizzy.”

Mom gasped. “I can be and have been in plenty of tizzies, my darling daughter.”

I cocked my head. “You were being a mean girl, weren’t you?”

My mother had gone through a lot when she was younger, turning her into an angry teen. Fortunately for all of us, she’d worked through it in therapy then fell in love with my dad, who brought out the softness she’d had to hide behind armored spikes. At least, that was how they told it.

She tossed her pretty blonde hair behind her back. “It was instinct. That boy hurt Cay when he abandoned their friendship.”

Dad’s huge hand spanned the side of her hip. “He has his reasons. You know that as well as I do.”

She hummed, lowering herself to his thick thigh, and twined her arms around his neck. “I do. And if I see him again, I won’t be unkind. But I can’t be the only one who remembers how Caleb felt when his best friend cut him off.”

“Dad doesn’t hold grudges,” Phe said.

Mom slid her fingers through the side of his hair. “I know he doesn’t. I hold them for both of us.”

The sound of the front door opening interrupted our line of conversation, and my brothers’ voices greeted us before they appeared in the kitchen.

Caleb was Dad’s spitting image, except scruffier. That might’ve been because our parents had met in college and Dad kept himself put together for his wife. Caleb didn’t have a woman to impress—though, from what I’d heard and seen, to my chagrin, my brother didn’t have any trouble in that department. In fact, he had a ten-year-old son as a result of one of his one-night stands.

“Where’s Jesse?” I asked.

“Shelby has him this week. I would’ve brought him for dinner, but Shel’s parents are in town for a visit,” Caleb explained, pulling his thick chestnut hair into a haphazard bun at the base of his skull. When it was down, it grazed his broad shoulders, and his beard ranged from heavy stubble to biblical. Today, it was mostly the former.

He stopped to kiss Mom on her head, ruffled Phe’s hair after stealing a piece of watermelon, then slung his heavy arm around my shoulders.

I shoved him off with a fake grimace. “Dislocate my shoulder, why don’t you.”

His chuckle rumbled like rolling thunder. “You’re always reminding me how strong you are. Can’t take one brother’s arm?”

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