He lowered his glasses on his nose to peer at her. “Intrude? On what?”
She cast an uneasy look in Brett’s direction. He didn’t need to be privy to family matters. “I assume Sharon’s joining you?”
Her father’s brows took a dive. “She’s not. She has a ladies luncheon to attend. But what if she were coming? She wants to get to know you better, honey, just like I do.”
“Dad—”
“You can bring your friend here, too.” He waved his hand toward Brett.
Brett wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t her anything. “Dad, I don’t—”
“You both have to eat, don’t you? My treat.”
Brett shook his head. “Thank you, sir, but—”
“Come on, join us. Abby needs to get to know some young folks in Canyon Springs. Maybe you can talk her into staying a few weeks. Maybe all summer.”
Hope flickered. Dad wanted her to stay? It sure hadn’t felt like that yesterday morning. He’d seemed as bewildered as she was about how to build a real-life bridge between them, not just communicate through birthday cards and an occasional ill-at-ease phone call. The past few days she’d spent with him had seemed, well, more than weird. And disappointing. Maybe he’d been disappointed, too?
“Come on, Brett,” Dad urged again, almost as though needing an ally in the struggle to find comfortable ground with his only daughter. A third party to balance things out?
While her instincts warned to stay away from Brett—he was a heartache waiting to happen—his presence at lunch might ease the tension between her and Dad. He and Davy would keep conversation at a superficial level and his happy-go-lucky approach might deflect the wounding sparks that sometimes flared between father and daughter. Despite her misgivings, Brett’s accompanying them suddenly seemed vital to paving the path to a harmonious connection with Dad.
Brett’s eyes narrowed as if trying to read her thoughts, then he dropped his gaze to the hat in his hands. “I appreciate the invitation, Bill, but I’m sure Abby can make up her own mind as to how long she wants to stay in town.”
He moved toward the door.
“You’re welcome to come.” Her rapid response provoked a surprised lifting of a brow as his gaze met her now-pleading one. Couldn’t he see that just as he’d barged into the Sunday school class, he needed to barge in here now, too? Needed to be a buffer between her and Dad?
Come on, cowboy. Say yes.
Chapter Four
Monday morning Brett rolled over with a groan and felt around blindly on the nightstand for his ringing cell phone. Six o’clock. It was his day off, but he’d overslept by two hours. He had someplace he had to be. Early. Before the wind picked up.
“Brett?”
He recognized the voice of his sister Geri, one of the twins. Two years older than him, both sisters sported red hair, a sprinkling of freckles and energy that wouldn’t quit. He collapsed back on his pillow. “What’s up?”
“It sure doesn’t sound like you are yet. Oversleep?”
“I forgot to set the alarm.” A Singing Rock emergency had ensured he’d gotten to bed late, then he’d lain awake too long kicking himself for not taking Bill Diaz up on his lunch invitation yesterday. Abby had clearly wanted him to come with them, as he’d interpreted it anyway, to be a buffer between her and her father. Not a spot he cared to be in. But it had eaten at him the rest of the day, second-guessing his decision not to go along. He’d wondered about Abby’s sadness when he’d first met her and it seemed likely the father-daughter relationship played a role in it. There had been an evident tension between the two of them in the brief interchange he’d witnessed.
“You have to plan a weekend at Mom and Dad’s sometime soon,” Geri insisted. Despite being the bossier of the twins who often acted like a second mom to him, she was the sibling he felt closest to. Even though she had a look-alike playmate, she’d nevertheless loved joining him in his childhood adventures and they developed a special bond. Through the years Geri had become—and remained—his confidante.
“That’s not on my agenda. Why?”
“Amber, Erin and I were thinking about getting everybody together. We haven’t all been in one place since Thanksgiving. Maybe you could stop in Ashfork and pick up Grandma and Grandpa on your way.”
He scrubbed his free hand over his face, cognizant of the morning stubble along his jaw. A Marden family get-together at the ranch his folks managed was always an event to look forward to. He hated to miss out.
“You know summers are the busiest time of the year for me. That popular blog that’s been featuring our town jump-started the tourist season early, too. We have a lot of events scheduled at the equine center, and here at Singing Rock we’re already filling up.” He worked part-time at both locations, having been fortunate enough to snag accommodations as a part of the deal at the cabin resort, where he was usually on call evenings. “I’m still picking up work on the side and the kids’ camp is coming along, too.”
For a long moment his sister remained silent.
“What?” he prompted. But he could guess what she was thinking. He’d heard it enough times from all three sisters. And Mom. His three older brothers and Dad weren’t so disapproving of his choices.
“You’re still burying yourself in your work, Brett.”
Readying for a lecture, he reluctantly pulled himself up and propped the pillow against the headboard, behind his back. “It’s called being fond of eating and having a roof over my head. Oh, and providing the same for that spoiled horse of mine.”
After a too-long time in the city, it had been a joy to have a horse of his own again and to hit the forested trails surrounding Canyon Springs. Just him, Cinnabar, Elmo and God.
“I’m not making light of your situation, but it’s been seven years since you lost Jeremy and Melynda left you. Care to share when you’re going to let yourself have a life again?”
He had a life. Maybe it wasn’t how the happily married Geri with her two rambunctious kids thought it should be. But he had a good life. Interesting work and a kid-oriented project occupied his time, involvement with children being a step he’d once thought he’d never again choose to take.
“Does anyone there even know what you’ve been through? Offer support?”
He’d shared bits and pieces of his past with Janet Logan, who’d skillfully and compassionately pried them out of him. A no-nonsense, practical type, she hadn’t fawned over him and his losses. No stranger to heartache herself, she could be counted on to keep private what he’d confided to her.
“I’ve mentioned it to a discreet, older lady from church. But you know I don’t like people knowing my business.”
Geri made a scoffing sound. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd? I mean, you are one of the most open, gregarious men I know. Yet you’re still keeping all of this to yourself.”
“I don’t imagine hearing about it would brighten anyone’s day.” It hadn’t brightened Janet’s by any means, but her grandson’s challenges with cystic fibrosis had built a strong bond between them.
“Maybe not, but you’re not allowing anyone outside the family to serve as a support system. Don’t you dare tell me doing that is ‘a guy thing.’”
Why couldn’t the females in his family leave him in peace? He shook his head and leaned over to turn on the nightstand lamp even though sufficient sunlight peeped in around the edge of the curtains to make it an unnecessary effort. “I don’t need a support system. I’m doing fine. God is good. Life is good. And I’m better