Page 33 of Taming His Brat

“Charlie didn’t mention she was clearing out this bedroom,” he said. And he’d be having words with his little girl if she’d just forgotten to tell him something like that. She was allowed to do whatever she wanted with her furniture, but as her Daddy he wanted to know what decisions she was making. With something as potentially emotional as getting rid of her father’s things he definitely needed a heads-up.

Vicky sniffed and her tone, when she replied, was icy. “I’m not sure why my daughter would need to inform a hired hand onherranch that she was doing anything.”

The snideness made his hands clench and hereallywished he had the right to blister her ass because if he did his belt would have been off in a second. It wasn’t often he longed for the good old days, but Charlie’s mother brought that desire to dispense justice to the surface.

“Vi—”

“You may call me Ms. Townsend, if you don’t mind. I prefer formality with the staff.”

He stood there, staring at her in shock for a full minute while he counted to ten backwards and forwards. When he could finally manage a response, his words were ice cold. “Ms.Townsend … I’m sure you’re aware that I’m not staff. I’m half-owner of this ranch and I’m your daughter’s partner.”

“You may have stolen half her inheritance, but you don’t ownthishouse, now do you? So, this is none of your business.” She turned away from him and he reached out to grab her arm, then stopped before he touched her, turned on his heel, and stomped outside before he did something he’d regret.

The moving men stopped short and gave him a nervous side-eye. They could clearly see something was brewing and they didn’t want to be involved in any of it, so they busied themselves inside the truck making sure things were packed safely.

Sam whipped out his cell and called Charlie. It took a while for her to answer, but she sounded awake enough when she spoke. “Charlie, quick question. Were you planning to do anything with the furniture in the big house? Your dad’s bedroom set?”

“Uh … I mean, I was thinking that after the remodel we might look at new furniture. The new brighter style isn’t going to work with all the clunky old antique stuff, but I didn’t have any plans to do it right now. Why?”

Sam took a deep breath and for a second he thought he’d save her the stress and leave her out of the loop. He wanted to protect her with every instinct in his body, but this … this just wasn’t something he could leave her in the dark on.

“Well, Vicky has a moving truck outside and she’s emptying out the house. You might want to come up here.”

Charlie gasped and then there was a silence. He was starting to think she’d hung up when she finally answered. “I’ll be right there.”

It took Charlie less than ten minutes to get there, but by then he’d already stopped the moving men and explained the situation. They didn’t like the idea of being in the middle of a family matter, but they also didn’t want to unload the truck again, not until they got paid anyway.

He waited outside so he didn’t have to deal with Vicky. He was almost glad this had happened. This, at least, was something he could prove. She’d been caught red-handed and Charlie wouldn’t be able to explain it away. It would mean the end of the stressful visit.

Or so he thought.

The upset expression Charlie wore when she jogged up made him want to pull her into his arms and hold her. But when he approached, she just shook her head and went inside. He followed her in because he wanted to back her up, but what he saw was a level of manipulation that he’d never seen outside of a made-for-tv movie, or maybe a politician’s campaign speech.

“Vicky, what are you doing?” Charlie demanded. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared her mother down with glittering eyes.Thatwas his fierce girl. The one who didn’t take shit from anyone.

“Oh, there you are honey. I guess the surprise is ruined now …” Vicky shot Sam a dirty look as though he’d caused the problem.

“What surprise? And why is my father’s furniture in a truck?”

“Well, I—you’re not upset, are you?” Vicky put on a concerned look that Sam was sure was completely fake. “I was just trying to help. You told me all about your new plans for the house and I knew this old stuff wasn’t going to fit in, so I thought … I thought how much fun it would be for us to shop for new furniture together. I got a price on this old stuff and set it up to go.”

Sam was speechless and Charlie seemed uncertain. “I … you really shouldn’t have done this without talking to me. I …” she trailed off.

Vicky’s bottom lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. He had to bite down on his lip not to call her out on the blatant falseness, especially since Charlie seemed to be falling for it. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t think you’d mind. I just … you’ve been so busy that I thought I would pitch in and help.”

“Mom…”

“I mean I’ve been gone so many years. The least I can do is help you deal with this. I—I just knew how hard it would be for you to get rid of Jimmy’s things. Grieving is hard and I wanted to save you from having to make the decision.” She sniffed and delicately wiped at her eyes with one finger. “Did I do something wrong?”

Charlie looked like she was about to cry too, and Sam couldn’t take it anymore. “Vicky these weren’t your decisions to make. You had no right coming in here and moving things out. What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded.

He shook his head and continued before she could get a word in, “You’re lucky I didn’t call the cops when I saw the moving van up here. I thought someone was robbing the place—and maybe you were. This isn’t cheap department store furniture. It’s worth a lot and I’m sure you know that.”

Vicky jerked, her eyes opened wide and both hands went up to her mouth like no one had ever spoken a harsh word to her in her life. She turned pleading eyes on her daughter. “Charlie are you going to let your boyfriend call me a thief?” Her voice was full of woe and tears and he knew it was bullshit.

But Charlie didn’t. When she turned to him, he knew how this was going to play out. She had a placating expression as she reached out to settle her hand on his arm. “Sam, she was only trying to help. She’s right. I mean— getting rid of his things would have been really hard.”

“Of course, it’s going to be hard, Charlie. But it’s part of the grieving process and it’s foryouto decide when you’re ready to let go, not her.” He wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her, but instead he shoved his hands in his pockets forcefully.

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