Page 87 of Winning Winnie’s Hand

His defenses flared. He didn’t need to deal with this. He could say goodbye to the woman forever and do the festival on his own.

“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.”

Dad’s words made him pause. Reminding himself of what he’d learned about her, Matthew looked to Winnie again. All at once, he could see that self-doubt in her eyes, and his heart softened.

“I scolded myself enough for the both of us,” Matthew replied.

Her eyes narrowed, but she turned away to pull a few more items from the wardrobe. “And why would you need to do that?” she asked, sarcasm in her tone.

“I think you know that already,” he said. “I haven’t been exactly helpful.”

“No, really?”

Again with the sarcasm.

“Would you like to hear what I have to say, or do you want me to leave?” he asked.

Winnie shrugged. “Do whatever you’d like. Either way, it’s not going to change my mind about leaving.”

Once more, Matthew’s pride knocked at his door, but he refused to answer. It was time to start behaving like an adult. “All right, I’ll talk, then. First off, I think you did a…” He paused. This compliment would come out if it killed him. “A fine job with the festival.”

She looked over at him. “Wow, don’t strain yourself with the praise.”

“I’m British, what did you expect?”

For the first time that evening, a ghost of a smile haunted her lips, but it was gone in an instant.

Still, it was progress.

“Really, though,” he said, “it pains me to admit it, but you brought more people in today than we’ve had in years. And a lot of your changes improved the festival as a whole.”

She narrowed her eyes, a wary look crossing her features. “But?”

“But,” he repeated, “I think you’ve seen now that some of the changes weren’t responded well to, and I’d like to apologize for that.”

Her brow twitched. “Apologize for my own poor judgment?”

“No, apologize for not explaining to you more why those changes—the rides and the scripted tournament—wouldn’t work.” He unfolded his arms and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I knew they wouldn’t, and still, I kept my mouth shut because I’d hoped it would drive you out faster.”

Her eyes reflected the hurt he’d hoped not to see. “Well, you got your wish,” she said, flopping her arms out, then back to her sides in a retreating gesture.

He blew out a sniff from his nose. “If only it had worked. My poor attempt at sabotage only sabotaged myself. Had I been honest from the start, explained to you the reasoning behind my hesitance, the event would have been more of a success because I…” He paused, waiting until she met his gaze. “I have no doubt that with your abilities, and my support, you could pull off the best festival we’ve ever had.”

She watched him for a moment, as if to see if he was joking or not, so he kept his gaze on her, praying she’d see the truth in his eyes. Finally, she looked away, but not before he noted her softening expression.

“That wasn’t very British of you,” she said.

He smiled. “What can I say? I’m growing as a person.”

Their eyes met, and a level of understanding passed between them before she looked away, staring at her suitcase as her expression slowly fell.

“I appreciate you coming down here,” she said, “but I don’t know if I can do this again.”

“You can,” he said. “With my help, you absolutely can.”

“So, what, you’re suggesting that we work together?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”