Page 84 of Winning Winnie’s Hand

He’d hoped to experience relief at the end of his speech, but he only felt worse. How could he have acted like such a child? No, he hadn’t done anything truly dastardly, but his was a sin of omission—doing nothing when he should have done something.

“Well,” Dad breathed out. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to admit what you did. Though, I had suspected you of the behavior from the start.” He raised a brow. “You went along far too willingly with her plans. Even she noticed.”

Matthew looked away. And here he was, thinking he’d been so clever. At least Dad didn’t look utterly gutted.

“So,” Dad continued, “you’ll be glad to know that I have already offered her another chance with the festival.”

Matthew’s eyes darted up. “You have?”

He nodded.

“Well, that’s great, then,” Matthew said. So he hadn’t needed to go into full-blown confession mode after all.

Dad stared back at the fire. “I gave her the weekend to think on it. Though, I will say, I’m fairly certain she’ll choose not to. Unless…”

Matthew waited. “Unless, what?”

Dad’s eyes fell on him, and suddenly, Matthew understood.

“Unless I help her,” he finished.

“More than that,” Dad said. “I want you to convince her to stay, then I want the both of you to work together. Not one over the other, and not in competition. Side-by-side. As a team.”

Matthew stared. “Honestly, Dad, I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“On your part or hers?”

“Both? Neither of us responds well to criticism, and neither of us knows how to tactfully share our opinions. Put those together in a high-pressure situation, and we’ve no hope of success.”

“Rubbish,” Dad huffed. “All I’m hearing from your lips is the fear of what might happen.”

“Fear based off of reality,” Matthew defended.

Dad sighed, closing his still-unread book and placing it on the small table beside him. “Well, the way I see it is this, you either work harder together or fail greater apart. One will result in a festival that lasts many years to come, and the other, well, I’m sure you can guess the outcome.”

Matthew didn’t have to guess. He knew. But still, working with Winnie? How was such a thing even possible? They’d tried and failed a number of times. The same would happen again, wouldn’t it?

Unless, of course, he lowered his pride and accepted the fact that she knew business better than he did. Of course, she’d have to lower her pride and admit that he knew the festival better than she did.

Blowing out a slow breath, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll try—actually this time.”

Dad smiled, clearly pleased with his decision. “Then I suggest you begin this evening. I don’t expect her to last through the night.”

Matthew’s brow rose. “I thought you gave her the weekend to make her decision.”

“I did. I also gave her the option of continuing with the festival or moving on to helping Foxwood. But you need to understand something, Matthew.” Dad stopped, hesitating. He looked to the closed door, then lowered his voice. “I only tell you this in the strictest of confidences.”

Matthew leaned forward. What was going on? Dad never spoke like this.

“It’s about Winnie’s family,” he began. “Or rather, her father. I’ve always respected his intelligence and success, but over the years, our relationship has weakened due to distance, yes, but also difference of opinion. Namely, how we view the outside world—and how we treat others.”

He paused, staring at the floor with a distant look before continuing. “He also puts too much pressure on his children. When I spoke with him on the phone a few months ago, he had no difficulty touting their many accomplishments, but when he got to Winnie, it was made clear that she hasn’t impressed her dad like her siblings have. Surely you’ve seen the self-doubt she suffers with, hidden by false confidence created by a father who expects too much of his children.”

Matthew grimaced, rubbing his chest as his heart pinched. His mind flew over the last few weeks with Winnie, their interactions, her behavior, the insecurity in her eyes all falling into place like pieces of a jigsaw. How could he have been so blind?

“I brought her here with the genuine hope of having her help us,” Dad continued. “But now, I wonder if we cannot help her in return.”

Matthew stared into the fire, hoping the lapping flames would distract him enough from the guilt pressing on his mind. If only he’d known. If only he’d been a little more patient. A little more kind. But he shook his head.