Page 13

“I said that this is only going to work when there is a certain degree of respect. Unfortunately, respect has to be earned, and you have a long way to go before you deserve mine.”

Harley’s fury exploded. “You’re one to talk. There hasn’t been one thing you’ve done to earn my respect. You stole my phone. You took my keys. You’ve put me to work until there are blisters on my fingers…” Her voice trailed off upon seeing a similar fury in her uncle’s eyes. Normally so calm and collected, she’d never seen this side of him and he hadn’t even uttered a word.

Her uncle took over the conversation. “I want to make one thing perfectly clear. This is my home. I don’t need your respect, though perhaps you might start thinking about everything you’ve listed and come up with reasons they were good for you. The government might consider you an adult, but you’re nothing more than a greedy child who needs to learn some manners. You may have your phone and the keys to your car when you’ve done the work to get them back.”

“What work?” she spat. “I don’t owe you anything.”

He straightened. “You’re right. You owe me nothing. But you do owe your parents something, especially if you expect to get that inheritance you care so much about.”

They locked eyes, neither one prepared to back down.

“If you want to take your phone and your keys, you’re welcome to. I will also be asking you to vacate the premises. You already understand the ramifications for making such a decision, so I’ll leave that up to you.” Vern turned back to the stove and shut it off.

The gurgling in her stomach persisted as she watched him take a pan of food to the table. She followed him and pulled out her chair to sit across from him. When he didn’t dish her up, she sighed. “Will you please pass the food?” Vern didn’t speak immediately, so she looked up and found his hard stare. Shifting uncomfortably, she tore her gaze away. “What?”

“In my house, we don’t eat until our work is done.”

Her focus flitted toward him once more.

“I distinctly recall that I asked you to muck out the stalls today—a chore that could have easily been completed before lunchtime. Imagine my surprise when I came to get you for our midday meal only to find that the job was only three-quarters of the way complete and you were nowhere to be found.”

Her fidgeting increased. “I went for a walk.”

Vern’s brows creased together so that his whole forehead wrinkled with a mixture of frustration and worry. “Then the storm came,” he said. His eyes swept over her body, lingering on the jacket she’d forgotten to give back to Mason. “I didn’t know if I would be making calls to the hospital or to your folks.”

“I can handle myself,” she muttered.

He didn’t respond to that comment.

Her eyes shot to meet his once more. “I went to talk to Mason, okay? I wanted to know what you were meeting about.”

“And did he tell you?”

She glowered at him. “I don’t need a stupid babysitter. The fact that you think you can just pass me off to someone else just proves you’re exactly like my mother. When you guys don’t know how to handle me, that’s what you do.”

He settled back in his seat, watching her as she fought back the tears.

“Now, will you pass me the food? I’m starving.”

At first, he didn’t move. Then he shook his head slowly.

“What? Why not?”

“I told you. Chores first, then supper.”

She glanced toward the window and the darkening sky. Flinging her hand in that direction, she argued, “It’s getting dark. Can’t I just finish it in the morning?”

“You can, but you’ll be going without supper.”

Harley gasped. “You’re seriously going to starve me—”

“Missing two meals is hardly starving you. I’d be more concerned that you’ll get sick sitting in those wet clothes.”

The way he could brush her off without a care tore at her more than she wanted to admit. Sitting here at this table with him, practically begging for food, was only solidifying one thing.

Harley was on her own.

She always had been, and she always would be.