Page 98 of Finding Home

“I’ll be right there, baby.”Clayton stroked a gentle fingertip on her cheek, then kept himself between Elle and her mom as they walked toward the door.

“Eleanor…”

Elle stopped for a moment, just a moment, closing her eyes and reminding herself that she’s heard her mom’s song before and the tune always ended the same, with Elle’s heart broken.

“…I am so sorry.”

With a resigned shrug, Elle opened the door to leave.

“Please, stop.”Clayton addressed Amanda as Elle walked out the door.

“Who are you to her?”

Elle heard her mom weepily ask.

“I’m the man who?—”

The slam of the café door behind her interrupted the exchange between Clayton and her mom.

Unlocking the pickup, Elle crawled in, shutting the door behind her.Slipping onto the front seat of Clayton’s pickup felt like a hug, it wrapped around her almost like arms keeping hersafe.Elle finally pointed that sword at herself, fighting back the feelings of loss and grief the encounter with her mother had evoked. She was done letting them impact her.

The driver’s side door creaked open, and Clayton climbed in.

His fingers combed through her hair, stroking as he said, “Talk to me.”

Elle sat up straighter.“She never says what she’s sorry for.I doubt she even knows. Her apologies were just to placate me. It was about her not wanting to be alone.I was just there, not because she loved me, but because she didn’t want to be alone.I was a filler.”

“You’re nobody’s filler.” Clayton’s jaw clenched.

“Well, I was.” Elle exhaled.

“I’m sorry, baby.”He pushed a stray strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. “You’re leaving work early today to meet Tobey, right?”

She nodded.

"I shouldn’t ask but take the rest of the day and come with me today.”

“To the farms?”

“Yes.”

“Moo.” It was a silly response, but it made him laugh.

“Moo?”

She smirked. “It’s cow for ‘yes.’ What kind of vet doesn’t speak cow?”

THIRTY-SEVEN

“Her heart did whisper for he had done it for her.”

~Jane Austen,Pride and Prejudice

The end of a workday hadn’t ever been so satisfying as they had over the last few weeks in Perry. In Long Beach, logging off and leaving the Sloan-Whitney offices meant fighting traffic for an hour only to log back on, reading more emails and reports from home. Here, when the day was over it was over. As the screen dimmed on the laptop when she shut it off, she’d moved into time with friends, family, and Clayton.

“Hey.” An almost wicked smirk spread on Clayton’s face, as he walked down the steps of the farmhouse to her. “You and those jeans.”He wrapped his arms around her, cupping her ass through the painted-on skinny jeans she wore.

She squeaked when he pinched.

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