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  Frankie’s brows raised. “I’m not sure of that. Mr. Carrington isn’t himself anymore.”

  I stared at Dad. Longing and loss filled me. I wanted him to make it all better like he used to when I was little and I’d had a bad dream. He would sit on the floor by my bed and hold my hand while telling me fairytales about the secret princesses who lived in our forest who were there to protect us until I fell back asleep. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Hey.”

  I turned to find a fierce looking Frankie.

  “Don’t you give up on him. That would devastate your mom, and if anyone can get through to him, it’s you. He needs you now more than ever.”

  “He’s not very happy with me.”

  “No, honey, he’s not happy with himself. He’s always been proud of his Emma. I still overhear him telling people you graduated from the Colorado School of Mines and how you can kick a ball farther than most men.”

  I gave Frankie a half smile.

  “You go over there. You are the rightful lady of the Ranch now; don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

  That sparked a tear in my eye and an idea. Every year we gave the dance a theme. This year’s would be the Lady of Carrington Ranch. “I love you, Frankie.”

  She waved me away with a crooked smile. “Get out of here.”

  I took my half-eaten cupcake with me and headed toward Dad and Josephine. They were standing just beneath the loft, right where my world had changed. Dad had since removed the ladder Mom fell from and replaced it with stairs. And no one was allowed to store anything up in the loft anymore. Frankie says she saw him burn the ladder once it was removed.

  On my walk over, I noticed Ashton doing card tricks in front of a good-sized crowd. My sisters were front and center as he dazzled people with his sleight of hand. Sawyer was part of the crowd too, until he saw me and headed my way.

  He sidled up next to me. “I see you’re still trying to avoid me.”

  “You could have joined me at the cupcake table.” Though I was relieved he hadn’t. Ripping off this Band-Aid was killing me. But I had to, especially now since Southern Perfection had entered the picture and was making him think of getting married.

  “You know, Frankie scares me,” he half teased. She could be intimidating if you didn’t know her well, or if you were related to Josephine.

  “Too bad, you’re missing out on the best cupcakes.” I waved mine in front of him.

  “Why don’t you offer me a bite of yours?”

  “Uh, no way. Did I mention this is the best cupcake ever? Get your own.”

  He chuckled before dipping his finger right in my frosting.

  My eyes widened. “Excuse me.”

  He stuck his finger in his mouth with a wicked grin. Dang that was a tantalizing scene. Visions of me licking frosting off him filled my mind. Holy crap, I needed a pause button, more like a delete button and some ice, stat.

  He leaned in only a few inches from my face. “What do you think about that?”

  I couldn’t think, but I might tinkle my pants or do something really embarrassing and kiss the frosting lingering on his sensuous lips. I was a nanosecond away from doing it. My body was overriding my mind. I was leaning in.

  “What are you two doing?”

  It was the only time I had ever been grateful for Josephine’s irritating voice. Sawyer and I jumped apart as if we’d been caught being naughty. If only.

  Sawyer grinned at me before addressing his formidable mother who was dressed in black. Her facial features were sharpened by that big hair of hers. “Emma was just sharing her cupcake with me.”

  Her dark eyes bore into me, more like my figure. “You might want to go easy on the desserts to save room for dinner.” Her fake concern was transparent through her falsetto voice.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be ready.”

  Her thin neck stretched upward, almost as if it was a hydraulic lift. Her tongue clicked as if she was holding back an insult, but she didn’t dare go too far in front of Sawyer. I was sure the first moment she could catch me alone she would mention I should try the Keto diet or something like it, because she only had my wellbeing in mind, of course.

  Before the wicked stepmother clicked and clucked her tongue some more, Dad meandered over with a cupcake in his hand.

  Like a magnet, Stepmommy Dearest suctioned up to him. “Dane,” she whined, “I thought we were avoiding sugar.”

  On purpose? Who would do such a thing? I think a sugar plum fairy just died somewhere.

  Dad cleared his throat, not sure how to respond.

  I decided to help the guy out. “Dad, I was just talking to Frankie about the food for the Farewell to Summer dance and I got to thinking. Since this is the twenty-fifth anniversary of it and Mom founded it, I thought the theme could be the Lady of Carrington Ranch. What do you—”

  Josephine leaned into Dad more, which was hard to do. She was already stuck to him like cling wrap. Her meticulously manicured hand landed on Dad’s chest in a loud slap. “Honey, didn’t you tell Emma that I was in charge of the Farewell to Summer dance this year?”

  There suddenly seemed to be no air to breathe. I stared at Dad in disbelief, suffocating and begging him with my eyes to tell me it wasn’t true.

  Dad wouldn’t look at me, but his wife was happy to. She hit me with a snake-like smile filled with killer venom. “I know you were in charge of it last year, but there is a new Lady of Carrington Ranch now. I do like that name. Thank you. I think I will use it for the theme. It’s fitting, don’t you think?”

  I was only able to catch enough of a breath to say, “Dad?”

  His brown eyes pleaded with me before he handed Josephine his cupcake and walked out.

  My cupcake fell to the ground before I followed after him. Before I was out of earshot, I heard Sawyer say, “Mom, you know how much that dance means to Emma.”

  She knew exactly how much it did, which I had a feeling made this an even sweeter victory for her.

  Dad was almost to the stables by the time I caught up to him. “Dad.”

  He paused but didn’t turn around.

  I stopped and waited for him to face me. The scent of horse manure lingered in the summer air. It was fitting, since that’s how I felt about this new twist in my plot.

  I could see his shoulders rise and fall with each deep breath he took. It took him several seconds before he turned around with steel conviction in his eyes.

  “Why?” was all I could ask.

  “Emma, she’s my wife now.”

  “But I’m your daughter.”

  “And you always will be.”

  “What about Mom? She would want me to do it.”

  He shook his head. “She would understand. She knew the roles husbands and wives played in each other’s lives.”

  A sheen mist coated my eyes. “Something I don’t understand, right?”

  He ran a hand through his thick hair, sighing. “No, Emma, you don’t.” He walked off without another word. That hurt more than anything.

  I did the only thing I could think of. I ran straight to Shannon’s Meadow. I didn’t bother to return any of the greetings from several ranch hands who offered me a hello, even Ray who’d been with us since the beginning and was like an uncle to me. Once I was past the Ranch, the tears began pouring down my cheeks. I ran as fast as my Tevas would take me down the gravel road that led to the meadow and the cabin where my life began, literally. Not only was I conceived there, but I was born there as well. There was a blizzard that closed all the roads on the night I decided to make my entrance into the world. Both my fathers helped bring me into the world that night, safe and sound. I always thought that was lovely, almost poetic. Now I felt neither safe nor sound.

  Out of breath from the half mile full-on sprint, I fumbled up the porch steps of the cabin. I bent over trying to catch my breath while racking sobs came falling out of me. It felt as if everything or everyone I loved was being stripped away from me. I thought my last name prec
luded me from romantic love, but now I realized it was on a mission from hell to take everything I loved. I should probably do some family research on the Loveless side to see what horrible misdeed had been done in the past for me to deserve such a fate. Maybe I wasn’t the only one, but as far as I knew no else on my biological father’s side was as unlucky in love as me. I got wedding invitations all the time from cousins I hardly knew.

  Once I caught my breath, I fumbled with the thermometer near the pink door where we hid the spare key to the cabin. Stepping into the cabin was like entering a museum dedicated to the eighties and my parents. The floral-patterned baby blue furniture got me every time. How did Mom think that looked good? Anders must have really loved her. There was not a hint of masculinity in the small, two-bedroom cabin with pink ruffled curtains and fake flowers in several vases. I swore it still smelled like Mom, a hint of cinnamon and gardenia lingered in the air. I’m not sure how much she used to visit this little place, but I had followed her out here once when I was sixteen. I watched her through the window crying over the wedding photo of her and Anders that rested on the mantle now. She was lovely in a simple white cotton gown. My biological father wore slacks, a white shirt, and a hideous wide paisley tie. But the way they stared at each other with wonder in their eyes said it all.

  I waited for her that day on the porch and asked her why she came out here and why she was crying. She took my hand and said, “Baby girl, the kind of love that made you is the kind that never dies. There is room in my heart for both of the men that love us.”

  With tears streaming down my cheeks, I walked over to the mantle and picked up the old photo encased in an etched glass frame. Next to it was a baby photo of me. I had to say I was a beautiful baby, with lots of dark hair and big eyes. I peaked early, even though I had chubby thighs then too. If only everyone thought they were still cute. The last photo on the mantle was of both of my dads dressed in their combat gear. Two handsome, smiling men stared back at me. Brothers in arms and in spirit. I ran my fingers across the glass, wishing I knew what to do to bring Dad’s smile back. I felt as if I had lost both men.

  I took the wedding photo and curled up on the couch with it. I hoped it would make me feel less lonely. Perhaps my parents would know I needed them, and I could feel them somehow and the love that used to fill this place. While I waited for them to get the memo, I looked around, thankful I at least had this place. Dad had promised it would always be mine. I always thought it was sweet that Dad maintained it, even making sure the cleaning crew came in once a month to dust the place.

  I also began to wonder how Anders felt about my mom moving on so quickly with Dad. And how maybe Dad was right, there were things I just didn’t understand. Obviously Mom loved both men with all her heart. And I was thankful Mom had married Dad. He was the best Dad growing up. Not only did he quiet fears in the middle of the night, but he was present. He never missed a soccer or football game. He was a shoulder to cry on, like when I was voted homecoming queen, but no one asked me to go to the dance. I had to ask my friend Micah to be my escort. I only won because I was fun and everyone’s best friend. Dad told me that day that the right boy would come around, but he still wouldn’t be good enough for me. I wanted to believe him.

  I hugged the picture tighter. Perhaps I had been too judgmental. Maybe Dad had room in his heart for two women and it didn’t mean he loved Mom any less. But why Josephine? Sure, she was beautiful, but did she make him happy? I didn’t see that she did unless it was in private. And maybe that was it. Perhaps that’s what Dad was talking about when he said I didn’t understand. I wanted to. I really did, because it wasn’t only me who thought Josephine was a questionable choice.

  I waited forever for my parents to make themselves manifest. They could have knocked a book over or something, but not even a rustle happened. I had almost given up hope until there was a knock on the door. I didn’t think ghosts knocked.

  “Em, are you in there?” Sawyer’s voice surprised me.

  I sat up straight, still clutching the wedding photo. He wasn’t being very helpful with the Band-Aid ripping process. “I’m okay,” I yelled out, half-hoping he would leave it at that, but the other part of me yearned for him to do exactly what he did.

  Sawyer walked right in, carrying a plate covered in foil.

  I let the picture fall to my lap while I wiped my tearstained cheeks. “How did you find me?” I’d never let him in here before. He’d visited Mom’s grave with me behind the cabin, but for some reason I was saving this place to share with the person who I not only wanted to share forever with, but they had to be a willing victim. Sawyer only filled half of the requirements.

  He gave me a sad smile. “You left your Jeep at the house and I could see you weren’t at your mom’s grave, so I figured you came in here. Em,” he walked closer, “I’m sorry.”

  “What do you have to be sorry for?” Other than making me fall in love with him.

  He set the plate that smelled of Frankie’s baby back ribs on the coffee table in front of me before taking a seat right next to me, like our legs were touching we were so close. His long, muscular legs made my heart pitter-patter. The rest of him had my stomach doing an entire gymnastics routine. When he took my hand and squeezed it, it made my stomach feel as if it had just flung itself off the uneven bars and crash landed. I knew for him it was all in the name of friendship, but for me it made my heart take hope, and I couldn’t afford that. Yet when I peered into his eyes, they begged me not to pull away from him, so I let myself be tortured by his touch.

  “Frankie wanted me to bring you dinner. She told me if I ate anything off the plate, she would stab me.”

  I laughed. “I hope for your sake it’s all there.”

  “I may have eaten half your roll.”

  “You’re a brave man.”

  “It was a long walk.”

  “Since I like you so much, I’ll keep your secret.”

  He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I like you too, very much.”

  Could I get a side of and by the way I love you and can’t live without you? No? I didn’t think so.

  The picture on my lap captured Sawyer’s attention. “You look like your mom.”

  “I wish.” She was so slender and beautiful in the photo, with long, cascading blonde hair. I looked more like my dad with brown hair and a solid build, though his was pure muscle.

  “Wish granted,” he was kind enough to say. I didn’t argue, even though there was no way I looked like the stunning woman in the photo.

  “Em,” Sawyer squeezed my hand, “I’m sorry about the dance. I know how much your family traditions mean to you. My mom does too.”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. I had no doubt she knew; she just didn’t care.

  “She’s not trying to hurt you.”

  I had to keep my head down so he didn’t see the incredulous look on my face.

  “Living in your mom’s shadow makes her feel insecure. She’s not trying to take anyone’s place; she’s trying to make her own place. Does that make sense?”

  His comments slapped me right in the face. I’d never looked at it from Josephine’s point of view. If I was being honest, I saw her as someone who didn’t have feelings. I turned and looked at him.

  A sweet smile filled his face. “I hate to see you so sad. Can you try and see this as a good thing?” He pointed at the picture I held. “I didn’t know your mom all that well, but judging by how happy she was in this picture and the ones I’ve seen of her and your dad, I would say she, better than anyone, would understand. I think she would even celebrate that your dad has found happiness again.”

  That was the problem—I didn’t know if he was happy.

  “I know for me, I’m glad my mom has finally found someone who treats her the way she deserves.” Could he shove the knife in any further?

  I let out a deep breath that sounded more like shudders after a good cry. “Sawyer, so much has changed in the last year. I’m not
trying to be selfish.”

  “No one would accuse you of that. You are the least selfish person I know, unless cupcakes are involved.” He gave me a heart stopping smile, making me smile too.

  “You could have had your own.”

  “I like sharing with you.” He pulled my hand closer to him. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said it felt intimate, especially the way his thumb glided back and forth against my skin. My entire body was aflutter. I should have pulled away, but I couldn’t, and heaven help me, I didn’t want to.

  I could hardly breathe, but I managed to respond, “Thank you, Sawyer, for always being so generous with me.”

  “You make it easy.” He paused for a moment. “Do you think you could help my mom with the dance?”

  My eyes bugged out before I could stop them.

  “It would mean a lot to me if you two got to know each other better.”

  I wanted to ask him why, but I was too stunned, and then I remembered a conversation we’d once had about how family unity was important to him. I didn’t think he had a lot of that growing up. I had until recently, and I missed it.

  “I know this has been a hard year for you and your family, but maybe this can be a way to heal some wounds. Maybe help you move on.”

  “I can’t move on from my mom,” I choked out.

  “Em, that’s not what I meant. I just . . . thought if your heart could mend a bit, it might be open to other possibilities.”

  “Like what?”

  He paused and squeezed my hand. “Something that requires your whole heart.”

  I tilted my head. “I’m confused.”

  “I know.”

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re helping enemy number one with the dance?”

  I looked around the comedy club to make sure Sawyer hadn’t sneaked in before I responded to Jenna. We were hiding out in the sound booth, which wasn’t exactly private as it was near the stage on the floor. It’s where Brad typically emceed depending on what acts they had on tap for the night. Brad’s commentary alone was worth the price of admission. The man in question was nowhere to be seen. That same man was making it hard to distance myself from him. If he didn’t see me, he called me every day and he was coming tonight for the big gender reveal I had planned. I couldn’t wait for Jenna and Brad to know what I already knew.