Page 75 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
“Sure, Grandson.” Dad pulled up one of Coby’s recorded Disney movies.
“Cars!” Coby cheered and squirmed down off the chair, stretching out on the floor with his chin propped on his hands, completely consumed by his favorite movie.
“What are you guys doing here?” Dad asked. “I thought you’d be at the rodeo.”
I shook my head and sank into Mom’s recliner next to his. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay. Is everything all right?”
I shrugged. “I’m just . . .” I searched for the right word. “Sad.”
“What’s wrong, honey?”
My eyes filled with tears at the same time the words came pouring out. I told Dad all about Hunter, leaving out the R-rated details and using a code name for Everett. But otherwise, I unburdened it all—from the moment Hunter had walked into my motel to him rushing to the rescue at the rodeo.
When I was done, Dad did what Dad did best. He didn’t comment or offer advice. He didn’t bad-mouth Hunter for keeping secrets. He just waved me into his chair for a cuddle.
And just like I’d done countless times before—as a sick kid, a girl with scraped knees or a pregnant woman dealing with a very heavy heart—I got up from my chair and snuggled into his side.
Because even at twenty-nine years old, I still needed my dad.
“It will be okay,” he said to the top of my head.
I believed him. “You’re right. Can we stay here tonight?”
“Like I’ve always told you, honey, this is your home. Come and go as you please.”
I smiled and snuggled deeper into his chest, letting Dad’s embrace settle my nerves.
Tonight, I was pushing my worries aside.
And when my phone rang with Hunter’s call, I pushed it aside too.
Pink. White. Red. Yellow. Orange.
Pink was up next. I grabbed a pink petunia from the box and shoved it into the hole I’d just dug.
It was the morning after the rodeo and I was filling the flower bed underneath the sign at the inn. Coby was with my parents at Sunday school and I’d come back to the inn to immerse myself in work.
Stabbing the dirt with my trowel, I scored another hole in the earth and shoved in a white pansy. The midmorning sun had chased off the cool night air and sweat was beading on my forehead.
I’d woken up at my parents’ house mad.
Fuming mad.
Mad at Hunter and mad at myself.
I’d let another doctor’s handsome looks and charm fool me. I’d been so worried about driving him away with my natural curiosity I’d become complacent. I’d let a stranger into
my home, my bed and my son’s life.
Shame on me.
And shame on Hunter for feeding me so much bullshit over the past two months.
All morning long I’d been thinking about all the things I wanted to say. When a shadow fell over my face, I knew now was my chance.
Hunter was standing above me with his legs planted wide and his arms crossed over his chest. “Where have you been?”
