Page 12 of The Mountain Echoes
I sigh. The voices are coming through the dining room window that opens onto the wraparound porch.
“I know, but you believe your father left half to yoursister.” I assume that is Maverick Kincaid—the man who wants to buy Longhorn Ranch.
“She’s going to sell,” Hudson slurs.
Yeah, that man is three sheets to the wind!
“She hates it here,” Hudson adds.
“You know what bothers me?” There are tears in Celine’s tone. Fake obviously. “She wasn’t even here with Papa, and now she expects his money.”
Drama queen!
I lean against the wall, pretending to relax in case anyone walks by, but I am recklessly and guiltlessly eavesdropping.
“I need another drink,” Hudson mumbles. I hear his footsteps recede.
“Mav, darlin’, you look so tired. You work too hard, baby.”
Oh my God!
I can’t see them, but I can hear her loud and clear.
She’s flirting with him.
“Celine, your husband is here.” He sounds indulgent, not annoyed. He’s probably still sleeping with her.
“I know.” A giggle.
“Tell me about your sister.”
My ears perk up.
“What’s there to say?” I can hear the huff in Celine’s voice. “She’s back for the funeral. She’ll grab the money with both hands and go back to California. Good riddance.”
My fingers trace the wall as sadnessonce again engulfs me.
I’ve lost all my birth family with Papa gone.
Celine doesn’t count, hasn’t for a long time. It started with Mama, who liked Celine better. I know they say parents love their children equally, but I don’t think that’s true. Mama preferred Celine to me. She always wanted me to be more like her. More feminine. More beautiful. Thinner. Prettier. Cheerful. Extrovert. You name it!
I used to think that since I was like Papa—and we loved the same things, the land, growing produce and animals on it, riding horses—I washisfavorite.
But after Mama passed, Celine became his favorite, too.
I see the rocking chair on the porch. Celine didn’t get rid of it. It was Papa’s favorite.
“You should go, Aria. She’s marrying Hudson, and it’ll be awkward havin’ you here,” Papa says as he smokes his pipe, rocking on his chair on the porch.
I stand, leaning against the railing, facing him.
My life has just fallen apart, and he’s kicking me out of my home. “Papa, maybe she and Hudson can move to Los Angeles. His family is there, and I?—”
He shakes his head. Implacable. “Celine’s family is here. She wants to have the baby here. It’s the right thing to do.”
I want to cry, but I know he won’t like it, so I hold the tears back.
I want to beg, but he’ll lose respect for me, so I have to try to convince him to let me stay in my home without pleading.
