tree lighting.”
Heidi leaned against Rafe. “We’re doing hayrides.”
Dante turned to her. “What?”
Shane groaned. “Hayrides. Horses pulling sleighs.” He glanced out at the rapidly darkening night. “Or wagons if we don’t get snow.”
Evie knew he sounded exasperated but guessed it was all an act. Shane liked everything about the ranch, including the close proximity to town. More important to him was how Annabelle enjoyed the holidays.
She glanced around the table, startled to realize all her relatives were paired up. A year ago everyone had been single. Since the last holiday season, Rafe and May had both married and Shane and Clay had gotten engaged. Annabelle was pregnant. This time next year Shane and Annabelle would have their baby. Heidi and Charlie would probably be pregnant, and she would be gone.
“I ate too much,” Glen, May’s husband, said as he pushed back from the table. “Wonderful dinner. Thank you.”
May smiled at him. “It wasn’t just me. Everyone helped.”
“Not me,” Evie said, suddenly wanting a few minutes away from her family. “So I insist on cleaning up. Everyone carry your plates into the kitchen, then leave me to it.”
“You can’t do all the dishes yourself,” Heidi said.
“There’s a brand-new dishwasher that says otherwise,” Evie told her.
“I’ll help,” Dante said. “I’m good at taking orders.”
“We all know that’s not true,” Rafe said. “But, hey, if he wants to wash, I say let him.”
It only took a few minutes to clear the table. Heidi took charge of the leftovers and put them neatly away in the refrigerator, then Evie shooed her out so she could start rinsing the dishes. As promised, Dante stayed behind and began stacking serving pieces.
May walked in. “I want to help.”
Evie forced a smile. “You made most of the dinner. I can handle this.”
Her mother stared at her. “You really hate me, don’t you?”
Evie felt her shoulders slump. “Mom, it’s Thanksgiving. Why do you have to make me helping with cleanup more than it is?”
“Because you’ve been avoiding me.” She pressed her lips together. “I know you had a difficult childhood and it’s my fault. It’s just that you…” Tears filled her eyes, and she looked away.
Evie told herself to be sympathetic. That nothing would be gained by snapping or complaining. There was no new material here. Just the same half-truths and partial explanations.
May sniffed. “Can’t you forgive me?”
Evie folded her arms across her chest in what she knew was a protective and not very subtle gesture. “Sure. You’re forgiven.”
“You’re still angry.” May drew in a breath. “I know I wasn’t there for you, when you were little. There were so many responsibilities.”
“I’m sure it was difficult to raise four children on your own,” Evie told her. “But we both know that’s not the problem. The problem is you had a one-night stand a few months after your husband died, and I’m the result. The problem is, every time you look at me, you’re reminded of your moment of weakness. You never wanted me, and, growing up, you made sure I knew it. It’s not enough that I don’t even know who my father is. I ended up with a mother who didn’t give a damn.”
May clutched at her throat. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? You blamed me for being born. That’s my big crime. When I was little, you wanted nothing to do with me. You were never there for me. You weren’t overtly mean, but you also weren’t interested. You and my brothers had special things you did together. Rituals and celebrations. Things I wasn’t a part of. It was the four of you as a family and then me on the outside looking in. My brothers did their best with me, but it wasn’t their job to raise me. It was yours and you didn’t bother.”
Evie felt herself starting to shake. She tried to hold it all together but knew she was seconds from a complete meltdown.
“I left home as soon as I could because there was no reason to stay. I never wanted to come back and wouldn’t be here now if you and my brothers hadn’t literally brought me here while I was unconscious after the accident.” She almost blurted out that she wasn’t planning on staying, either, but May didn’t deserve to know her plans. She wouldn’t be a part of her future.
“I was seventeen when I took off, and it was over a year until I heard from you. You never checked on me or wondered where I was or what I was doing.”
“You were at Juilliard,” May whispered.
“Right. For the first six months. Then I left. Did you ever wonder how a seventeen-year-old girl makes it on her own in the world? Did you bother to ask?”
The room blurred, and it took her a minute to realize she was crying.
“So, sure, Mom,” she said, her voice thickening. “I forgive you. You were everything I ever wanted in a parent.”
Then she was running. She went out through the back porch and down the stairs. Somewhere along the path to the goat barn, she stumbled and nearly fell. The only thing that kept her from going down was a pair of strong arms.
Dante pulled her against him and held her tight. He didn’t say anything. He just hung on and let her sob until she had nothing left.
Dante was surprised to find Rafe in the office Friday morning. “Why aren’t you home with Heidi?” he asked.
Rafe looked up from his computer. “She’s making cheese and let me know I was getting in her way. Figured I’d get some work done. What about you?”
“Heidi pretty much only has eyes for you.”
Rafe chuckled. “I’m lucky that way.”
Dante walked to his desk and turned on his computer, then poured himself a cup of coffee. They were the only two working that morning. The staff had been given the long weekend off.
“How’s your mom?” Dante asked.
“Fine. Why?”
Dante had wondered if May had told anyone what had happened. He’d let Evie cry herself out, then had driven her home. This morning he’d wanted to go check on her, but there’d been no sign she was awake when he’d left.
He’d been forced to walk away, still feeling protective but with nothing to do.
“She and Evie got into it last night,” Dante said and recapped the conversation.
Rafe shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I wish they wouldn’t
