Page 59 of The Mountain Echoes
I walk to the coffee pot, which has been turned on.
Bless Nadine!
“Then don’t.”
I fill a cup and savor the first sip.
It’s gonna be a long day, and I know I should get some food into my body so I can do the arduous work needed to keep the ranch running, to turn it around, to save it.
“I own half of this ranch, Aria. You can’t just throw me out,” she says belligerently.
Any minute now, she’s going to either hold her breath or stomp her feet like a toddler.
“What on earth are you talkin’ about?” I rest my hip against the kitchen counter and eye her carefully.
“It’s half mine,” she screeches.
Not the house, I want to retort, but that’s not who I am.
I know how it feels to be kicked out of a place you think of as home. As much as Celine has taken from me, I won’t let her influence my values. Iwillstay true to myself. I won’t let the past make my present and future bitter.
I’ve had plenty of therapy—in fact, I still have monthly calls with my therapist, though I probably need to increase the frequency, considering the shitshow my life is—and I’ve done the work to know myself.
I’m not the person Celine wants me to be, a reflection of herself. If she’d gotten the ranch, my ass would’ve hit asphalt within minutes.
I set my cup down. Last night, she cornered me as I was heading to bed, and we ended that confrontation with her saying she hates it here, and me telling her that if it’s so awful, she’s free to leave.
“Celine, you said you don’t like living here. I told youto stay in Aspen if it makes you happier. No one’s chaining you down here.”
She folds her arms, her mouth tight. “That’s just another way of asking me to leave.”
“No, that would be me askin’ you to leave direct and straight,” I reply. “You can stay here for as long as you want. I’ll never ask you to leave your home, Celine. You’re my sister.”
Her expression twists in puzzlement.
“I remember the day you came home from the hospital,” I say quietly. “I was a baby myself, just two. Papa let me hold you in the rocking chair in Mama’s room. You were wrapped in a white blanket with tiny pink roses. You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
Her eyes narrow, suspicious of sentiment.
“I loved you.” I smile sadly. “God, I loved you so much. Still do. You’re my baby sister. No matter what.”
Celine’s mouth trembles, but she forces a laugh. “Don’t do that. Don’t play thispoor-me-I-loved-youcrap. You’re just as selfish as anyone else in this family.”
“Celine—"
“Congratulations.” Her voice is bitter. “You won. You got Papa’s love in the end. You got the house. You get to be the good daughter now. All I want is to sell this damn place and move on with my life.”
“You want money,” I correct her. “Let’s not dress it up.”
She takes a breath like she’s resisting throwing something at me. “You don’t understand what it’s like. You have no idea what Hudson and I have been through?—”
“No,” I cut her off, “I don’t, and honestly, I don’t care to know. You want to move on with your life, then leave and let me do what I need to in peace. But don’t act like I’m the reason you’re unhappy.”
“We need to sell the ranch, Aria.” There’s desperation in her voice.
“I’m not selling it.”
“I’ll take you to court,” she warns.
