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He heaved a sigh. “Will you sit down?”

“I’m good where I’m at, thank you.”

“I’d really prefer it if you’d sit.”

She crossed her arms, causing him to sigh once more.

“Fine. You want to know what he said? He said you were a bad influence. He said that I needed to think really hard about whether or not I wanted to be with you when I had so much on the line.”

“So much on the line?” she said with derision. “Like what? That dump of a house or that crumbling barn?”

The silence was deafening, cold, and unwavering. She could only imagine the fire burning from his gaze in that moment. Even if she apologized for what she’d said and swore she didn’t mean it, none of that would have been enough.

Harley covered her face with her hands and let the frigid tension wrap around her like a venomous snake cutting off all the air to her lungs.

“Is that what you think? That I don’t have anything worth risking?” He climbed to his feet, finally. “That’s it, isn’t it? You think I’m too dumb to plan for my future. I bet you make fun of me behind my back. Poor Mason and his huge family who can barely afford to feed themselves. Well, the joke’s on you because you’re wrong.”

Pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she shook her head. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“Really? Because it sure sounds like you did. I don’t know of any other way I could have interpreted it.”

“Mason—”

“No.” He held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear anymore tonight. You’ve clearly had a bad day. We’ve been a little out of sync, and I think we just need to regroup before we continue moving forward.”

Before she could argue further, he pushed past her and headed for the house. Mason got about five yards away when he stopped and called back, “I’m going to help Vern get ready early, and then I’m going to head out.”

“You don’t have to…” Her voice trailed off. He was too far away to hear her anyway.

Apparently, she hadn’t changed like she’d hoped. There was still that snarky part of her that threw up her shields the second everything got too real.

It didn’t help that her uncle had blamed her for the two of them sneaking out—no matter how right he’d been. Mason was an adult. He could make his own choices. Unfortunately, she had a history of doing things without thinking and not even Uncle Vern was immune to placing blame where it would stick more easily.

Her shoulders slumped and she stumbled back a few steps to lean against the building. Mason was mad. Vern was disappointed. And her mother would likely stop at nothing to make sure Harley would fall in line. This wasn’t about the money for Blaire Pembrooke. No, this was about control.

Harley refused to be a pawn in her mother’s game. She’d put up a fight for as long as she could bear it. Her mother didn’t know what she had coming.

* * *

A pounding on the front door dragged Harley from her sleep. She stared blearily toward the clock on her nightstand. Her eyes were puffy and dry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried herself to sleep.

While it had been cathartic in the beginning, just like a hangover, Harley regretted it the second she jumped to her feet. Her head pounded, her vision swam, and she nearly collided with the door as she hurried toward it.

Either Mason had decided to change his plans and he’d arrived bright and early Friday morning, or someone they weren’t expecting had shown up on Uncle Vern’s doorstep.

Harley pulled her robe around her tightly as she scrambled down the stairs toward the front door.

“Harriet? Who’s at the door?” Vern called.

“I’m getting it now. Are you expecting anyone?” she called back.

“Mason said he wouldn’t be able to come by until nine at the earliest.” Vern appeared in the hallway just as she passed it to get to the door.

“Well, it’s only seven-fifteen.”

“And you don’t know who it is?”

“If I did, I would have told them to come after lunch,” she shot back, her tone abrupt. Harley instantly regretted it the second she saw Vern’s judgmental eyes. Her uncle was probably right to think so poorly of her.