Page 113 of Relentless

Maeve took a long drink of her coffee, stifling her amusement at her son’s expense. “I have a hunch that he will,” she said, thumbing the smooth handle of her mug. “I’ll talk to him.”

Oakleigh let silence fall between them.

“With the competition tomorrow, I’m short on ranch hands,” Maeve informed, pivoting into ranch business. “Colton and Wade will be packing up the Slims.”

“Okay, no problem,” Oakleigh shrugged, setting her mug down. “I’ll check fences.” Preparing to head upstairs, she began strategizing the long afternoon ride.

I need warmer clothes.

Saddle thehorse.

Pack the radios and —

“And Oakleigh,” Maeve called out, catching her attention. “I’ll need you to take your mom.”

Oakleigh stopped and turned on her heels.

“Why?” she fired back, a little more aggressively than she had intended.

Maeve gave her the familiar glance that told her she wouldn’t be getting the explanation she desired.

“Because I asked you to.”

“You are being frustratingly vague today, Maeve,” Oakleigh scolded.

“Oh, am I?” Maeve asked, hiding her amused smile behind another long sip from her mug.

“More than usual,” Oakleigh replied, turning again to leave.

“And why don’t you bring your mom a cup of coffee,” Maeve casually tossed.

Oakleigh let out an aggravated exhale, “Now you’re just doing this on purpose.”

She snatched two steel travel mugs from the cabinet and banged them down on the marble countertop. Tipping the percolator, she filled one to the brim and left room in the other for a splash of cream and sugar. Pressing on the lids, she lifted the mugs and trudged up the stairs.

She considered how Maeve was so consistently gracious toward others. Oakleigh was already feeling the ache of old wounds returning, edging out the compassion she had found for her mother.

She went down the hall and arrived at Harper’s room. Knocking on the door, she waited impatiently for a response.

“Mom,” she called out. “It’s me.”

No response came, and Oakleigh felt pressed to fill in the silence.

“I was wondering if you’d like to ride out with me this afternoon?” she asked. “It’s nothing special, just checking fences.”

Her eyes flicked to the ceiling, feeling insecurity creep in.

“I totally get it if you don’t want to,” she sighed. “It’s just Maeve asked —”

“Sure,” Harper’s voice came muffled through the door. “Just give me a minute.”

“Okay,” Oakleigh replied, “I guess I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

Returning to the living room, she set the mugs on the coffee table and plopped down on the soft leather sofa. She took in the ambiance of the roaring fire while she waited for her mother to come downstairs. Before she could even pull out her phone and scroll her newsfeed, she heard the sound of creaking footsteps down the long staircase.

“Ready to go?” Oakleigh inquired, trying not to react as she locked onto her mother. Harper’s eyes looked red and weary, as though she had been upset for the better part of the morning.

“I must look terrible,” Harper remarked, her voice sounding weak. She pulled her beanie lower over her blonde hair, and ran her hands down the crinkles of her jacket.

---