Page 66 of Midnight Surrounds Us

“Here,” I said, hoping to take her attention away from anything she thought distasteful. I reached for a wildly popular book calledTruth, about a woman who moves into a wealthy family’s home in the Pacific Northwest to homeschool their children, but she falls for the husband, and a whole bunch of hot—but disturbing—stuff happens. “This one had me up at night for two weeks. It’s very good.”

She took it from my hand and studied the hazy pine forest on the cover and the title’s blood-red font. “Thank you.” And then she continued her assessment of my store. “It’s very quaint in here, isn’t it?”

“That was my goal, to make it feel like you’d stepped into your auntie’s or your sister’s house to borrow a book.”

“Well, thank you for the recommendation. I think I’m ready to check out.”

“Sure.”

She followed me back to the register and handed me a very black and very stiff credit card. “Just ring it up.”

“Thank you.” I finished the transaction and pushed the receipt in front of her to sign. She penned her name with a flourish and pushed it back to me. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Now that you mention it, there is. Rye returned home quite late last night. I assume that’s because he was here in town with you?”

“Yes, he was.”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything to his daddy yet, but I know my son’s thinkin’ about movin’ on. He’s been obsessed about a new farmin’ idea for a while now.”

Rye had told me all about his plans with Bax and Brand Lee. I’d been excited to know he’d be closer to Wisper. But he’d also said that he still needed to talk to his parents about his plans and how he worried about what it might do to their relationship. I wasn’t about to get in the middle of it.

“Oh, I don’t… It’s not really my place?—”

She waved away my hesitance with a flick of her thin, elegant wrist, and the gold bangles there jingled against each other. “I wouldn’t ask you to tattle on Rye. He’ll come to us when he’s ready, but I have a feelin’ it’ll be soon. And I’ll be very happy when he does.”

Wh-what?

My face must have displayed my surprise because she smiled and grabbed hold of my hand on the counter.

“You mistake me, Aubrey, but I don’t blame you. I know what you see when you look at me and our ranch and house. But underneath all of that, I’m still just Calla. A mom first. A rancher’s daughter who also married a rancher. And I’m a wife wholovesher husband, stubborn ol’ goat that he may be.

“But I see the way he and Rye butt heads. Grady has no plans to retire anytime soon. He believes strongly in our way of life. He will never give the farm over to our son if Rye insists on changin’ the entire structure of the way we do things.

“The only chance Rye has to change his daddy’s mind is if he goes out and does it himself. If Rye can show Grady how this plan of his can work, it’s the only way his daddy will ever respect the idea.

“It’s sad but true. I’ve known for a long time that this is what it would take. But you see”—releasing my hand, she tapped her temple with one finger—“I know better than to get in their way. If they don’t figure these things out for themselves, well, I’m sure you know men can be a little proud.”

“Why are you tellin’ me this?” I asked. “I don’t have anything to do with Rye’s plans.”

“Oh, but you do,” she said. “He’s in love with you. And soon, if he hasn’t already, my son will lay his heart on the line for you. He’ll want you to be a part of everything he does.”

“And you don’t approve?”

“Well,” she said, shrugging, “that all depends on you, I suppose. But don’t you think there’s too much…distancebetween you?”

Distance? She said it like she meant that there were miles of road between Rye and me, but what she refused to come out and say straight to my face was that she thought I was too old for her son. The grandkid thing slammed home again. Why I was letting it bother me when it never had before was beyond me, and it made me so mad, letting her have that power over me.

I’d spent far too long thinking the same things about myself. Finding things to love about myself and the fact that I was getting older was really fucking hard. I didn’t need Calla Graves pointing out all the reasons I shouldn’t.

“And besides that,” she said, “you have your own family to tend to, and if my son really does leave the nest, so to speak?—”

I tried hard to hide my scoff, but it caught in the back of my throat anyway. Was she under the impression that her thirty-five-year-old son was a baby bird? Or just a baby?

Calla heard it and she arched an eyebrow. “All I mean to say, Aubrey, is wouldn’t you feel awful if Rye went after his dreams, but instead of focusing on them, he focused on you because he’s so infatuated with you?”

She straightened and grabbed her bag of books from the counter, then dropped her hands to her sides. She took one slow, last look around my store then fixed her stare on me. “You have boys. You can understand that Rye’s a proud young man, and if he had to come home with his tail between his legs, penniless and defeated… Well, you wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

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