Page 37 of The One Who Risked it All

“Eli!” Carla gasped, pulling back with wide eyes.

Too late, I remembered our audience. The boys erupted into a chorus of “Oooohs” and giggles.

“Uncle Eli and Carla, sitting in a tree!” Alex sang out, his gap-toothed grin wide. This was not what I imagined for our first kiss.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” the other two joined in with glee, Joey tripping over letters without a care.

My face heated, and when I glanced at Carla, her cheeks were just as flushed. “Alright, you little rascals,” I said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably, “that’s enough of that.”

Just then, I heard the creak of floorboards in the hallway. Dad. My stomach dropped as I realized what was coming.

The kitchen door swung open, and there he was. Harold Wells, all six-foot-two of him, filling the doorframe with his presence. The laughter died instantly. He was pale and slightly winded, obviously worn out from the trip home and the walk inside.

“Papa!” Joey, bless his oblivious little heart, ran up to him. “Guess what? Uncle Eli and Miss Carla were smoochy kissing!”

My heart sank.

I watched the storm clouds gather on Dad’s face, his jaw clenching tight. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

“Is that so?” Dad’s voice was low, dangerous.

The boys, finally catching on to the tension, fell silent. Their eyes darted between me and their grandfather, confusion written all over their faces.

I swallowed hard, frantically searching for the right words. But how do you explain a decades-old family feud to three confused kids? How do you justify your heart to a father who sees only betrayal?

Carla’s hand brushed my arm, and I turned to see her giving me a reassuring smile. But I could see the worry in her eyes.

“Boys,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, “why don’t we go finish that puzzle we were working on?”

Alex’s face lit up. “Can I do the last piece?”

“We’ll see,” Carla replied, already herding them toward the door. As they filed out, Carla glanced back at me, her expression hard to read.

Then the door swung closed, and I was alone with Dad.

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I cleared my throat, ready to launch into some explanation, but Dad beat me to it.

“A Putnam, Elijah?” His voice was quiet, but it cut like a knife. “Of all the women in this town, you choose a Putnam?”

I felt my hackles rise. “It’s not like that—“

“Not like what?” he interrupted, his eyes flashing. “Not like you’re spitting on everything this family stands for? Not like you’re betraying your own flesh and blood?” Dad snapped, taking a step toward me. As he did, I noticed a slight tremor in his right hand. My heart clenched.

“Hey, easy,” I said, instinctively reaching out to steady him as he stumbled slightly. “Maybe we should sit down and—“

“I don’t need to sit down!” he barked, but I saw the flash of pain cross his face. He pressed a hand to his chest, and I felt a surge of panic.

“Dad, please,” I pleaded, guiding him gently toward a kitchen chair. “Your heart–”

“My heart’s fine,” he grumbled, but allowed me to help him sit. “It’s you who’s lost your mind.”

I knelt beside him, my firefighter instincts kicking in as I assessed his breathing. “Dad, I know you’re upset, but this stress isn’t good for you. Can we just... can we talk about this later?”

He glared at me, but I could see the fight leaving his eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about, Elijah. You know how I feel about the Putnams.”

I opened my mouth, searching for the right words, but they escaped me like smoke through my fingers. My eyes darted from Dad’s scowling face to the scattered get-well cards on the counter, a stark reminder of why we were all here in the first place. My dad was fragile right now. This was entirely the wrong time for this confrontation.

“Dad, she’s just here to help out. Don’t read too much into it.” If he looked closely at all, he’d see that I was head over heels for this woman. And it might actually kill him.

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