a really nice kid. Smart and great with horses, too.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s got a lot going for her, but she’s—”
“Look, Mrs. Lambert, if you’re here to tell me that she has a problem with me, don’t bother. I’m quite aware. It’s not for lack of trying on my part. It’s just...”
“Carolina.”
He frowned. “What?”
“You can call me Carolina. And I’m not here to criticize but to ask a favor of sorts. I’d appreciate it if you’d hear me out before you say no.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’d like your permission to invite Lizzie to be one of our junior counselors this summer. She has so much to offer, and I think it might even be good for her.”
“Exactly what would that involve?”
“One month of working with the underprivileged campers on Sara and Jess’s ranch. It would be voluntary, but she could stay on site with the other camp counselors so she wouldn’t have to be on the highway driving back and forth.”
“Have you mentioned this to Lizzie?”
“No. I wanted to clear it with you first.”
Jake swiveled his chair so that he was facing Carolina. Concern etched his face. “If you can persuade my daughter to give up sleeping until noon and then spending the rest of the day either texting or hanging out with her friends, I’d say you’re a miracle worker.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Definitely. Go for it. You do the asking. If it comes from me, the answer would be an unqualified no.”
Perhaps if you set a better example with the way you treated your own father.
Those were the words Carolina wanted to toss back at him. She bit them back. Lizzie needed her father, and if they didn’t find a way to connect soon, they might never find it.
“Carolina. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
She looked up as Mildred rushed into the room, her face a pasty white. “What’s wrong?”
“Thad. He’s not giving up.”
Jake was not surprised. He had sat out the storm at ranch headquarters, checking the internet for anything he could find about the arrest and trial that led to Caffey’s conviction.
There hadn’t been much. As rotten a crime as spousal abuse was, it didn’t get a lot of press unless either the perpetrator or the victim was a celebrity.
The sketchy details indicated that Thad had abused Mildred throughout their three years of marriage in what the prosecutor described as mental and physical torture.
Slugging her for simple mistakes like scorching his shirt when she was ironing it or not scrubbing the kitchen floor as clean as he wanted it. Always hitting her somewhere the bruises could be hidden beneath her clothes.
On other occasions, he wouldn’t tell her what she’d done wrong but would lock her in a room for days with only tepid water to drink. And yet she’d stayed with him. Now he was back again.
“I can’t believe he has the gall to contact you,” Carolina said, “much less to keep harassing you. On second thought, knowing Thad, of course he had the gall. What did he say?”
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