Page 27 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
“Yes?” Irritation now at having to repeat herself, no doubt. Maybe she thought this was some sort of spam caller.
“Hi, I’m Emma.” She took a deep breath. “Emma O’Sullivan.”
There was a pause, and Emma waited for a response to the fact that they shared the same name. Any sort of response. All she got was silence, followed by a short, “And?”
“And…” She had to stop to clear her throat. Emma hadn’t known what to expect with these calls, but this...was not it. “And your father, Frank O’Sullivan...he was my father as well—”
“Yes, I know.”
That was it. The bored tone gave nothing away.
“Y-you know?”
A short sigh. “Of course I knew about you and the others.”
“The others?” She sounded like a parrot echoing Dahlia’s words back to her.
“There were six of us at last count, is that correct?” The woman sounded so aloof. Like she was talking to a random stranger about making a dentist appointment.
“Seven,” Emma said.
“Ah.” Finally, a hint of emotion and it was bitter amusement. “It appears I lost track.”
“But you knew,” Emma said again, trying to wrap her head around it. “About me and Lizzy, I mean.”
“Of course I knew. My mother kept no secrets from me.”
Emma’s lips parted but she had no idea what to say to that. Or rather, she had too many questions that she wanted to ask and had no idea where to start.
Dahlia let out a sharp exhale. “Look, Frank was no father to me or my sisters except by blood, if that’s what you’re wondering. He married my mother shortly after he divorced yours, had us in quick order and then bailed.”
Spoken so succinctly. Emma blinked in surprise. But then again, apparently this woman had had a lifetime to reconcile herself to Frank’s many daughters.
She flipped through the file. “So, he had you and your sisters…”
“Rose and Daisy,” Dahlia finished in an overly patient tone. Not rude, necessarily, but close. It was definitely patronizing.
“I see that you’re… all named after flowers.” Emma tried to lighten the mood, but all her observation scored was a derisive huff.
“Yes, my mother adores plants, but not her children, apparently.”
Emma frowned. “Why—”
“Because she named us all after flowers, which tends to lead to a lot of irritating conversations. People find it very amusing. I, most certainly, do not.”
Biting her lips together, Emma bailed on the line of conversation as quickly as she could. “So, you knew about Lizzy and me, and…” She found that first sheet and filled in the blanks before Dahlia could. “Sierra.”
“Mmm, the first of Frank O’Sullivan’s mistakes.”
Emma blinked rapidly, her lips parting. Mistakes? They were people. Women. They were hersisters.
She shook her head, her stomach was coiling with tension at the woman’s cold attitude. If nothing else, maybe Dahlia and her knowledge of Frank’s offspring could help her track everyone down. “Do you know Sierra? Do you know how to get in touch with her?”
A short laugh from the other end. “Of course not. I have my hands full with my twoactualsisters. The rest of Frank’s children are none of my concern.” A brief pause and then she added in a stilted voice, “No offense.”
“None taken,” Emma said quietly. If a little sarcasm slipped through, she found she didn’t care. “I’m not sure I have a good number for her though, so if you have any way of contacting her—”
“I don’t. Sierra was Frank’s first daughter from when he was still a teenager, but she never made any attempt to talk to us and we respect that privacy,” Dahlia clipped.
