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Keyanna

I hadn’t necessarily expected awarmwelcome when I met my grandmother for the first time, but I can admit that I definitely hadn’t anticipated outright hostility. The look in Rhonda MacKay’s eyes is cold, the bright emerald color throwing me off guard, given that it’s the exact same shade as mine, as my dad’s, even.

“I know I probably should have reached out before coming—”

Rhona shakes her head, cutting me off as she holds up her hand to stop me. “Aye, you should have, because I’d have saved you the trip.”

Frustration bubbles up in my chest, and I can feel a warm flood of anger creeping under my skin. Surely she can sympathize that I came alongfucking way to be here. And wearefamily, after all.

“Look, I know that you and my dad parted on bad terms, but that has nothing to do with me,” I point out.

“You’re right,” Rhona says. “It has nothing to do with you, but still you came.”

Anger gives way to rejection, maybe even something that slightly resembles hurt, because with Dad gone, I have no one else. Maybe that’s why I reach for her hand.

“Rhona,” I stress. “Don’t you…” I swallow, a thick lump in my throat. “Don’t you want to know me at all?”

Her eyes soften, her mouth dipping into a frown as she studies me. I watch her gaze dart down to my hand that’s clutching hers, and for a moment I think that maybe she’ll jerk it out of my grip, but to my surprise, she just sighs.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to know you, but…” She glances up at me, and I notice the weariness in her eyes now, the shimmer of sadness that I know all too well. Her thumb moves minutely to brush against the back of my hand, pausing before it gets too far, as if she forces herself to stop. Her eyes find mine again, holding them as she studies my face. “You look so much like him,” she murmurs. “Your da leaving left scars, hen. This auld girl has a hard time forgiving, and I see him when I look at you. I cannot promise that you’ll find what you’re looking for here.”

“I get it,” I tell her, fully aware that my pant legs are beginning to soak through from the splashing of rain hitting the ground all around us, but I’m standing firm all the same. “I really do, and I can appreciate how much of a shock this must be, but I…” I’m acutely aware of the lumbering presence still looming beside me, Lachlan’s towering form making my heartfelt confession even harder to get out, but I refuse to be embarrassed. “I don’t have anyone else, Rhona. I just…I want to know the parts of my dad that he kept from me. I want to knowyou, if you’ll let me.”

Rhona stares at me as if considering, and I think to myself that we must make a ridiculous picture—me and two strangers hovering outside a small covered porch while rain beats down all around us. I hold my breath as I watch her expression change, sensing she’s come to a decision, and I tell myself that no matter what she decides, I can live with the outcome. That no matter what, I can say that I tried my best.

“All right, then,” Rhona says with a weary tone. “You can stay.”She pulls her hand from my grip, pointing a finger at me. “But you’ll not laze about. You want to stay at the MacKay farm, you’ll pull your weight.”

“I can do that,” I promise, knowing full well I don’t know the first thing about helping around a farm. The closest I’ve ever come to farm life is a petting zoo Dad took me to two decades ago, but I can wing it, I tell myself. “I’ll do whatever I need to do.”

“Well, come in, then,” she sighs, pulling back finally and opening the door wider to invite me in. “Get out of the rain.” She turns her attention to Lachlan. “You coming?”

I finally let myself look at him, turning my head to find him already studying me. His crystalline eyes give no insight to his thoughts, but the slight furrow in his brow makes me think he isn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of me staying. Not that I care. I’m not thrilled to be apparently living at the same place as the hot asshole that shooed me off his property.

“I have to meet Hamish at Leo’s garage,” he tells her.

Her brow lifts. “Your car having troubles?”

“Not mine,” he answers, smirking in my direction.

My jaw clenches. “You don’t have to do anything. I can handle it.”

“Oh?” He sets my bag on the porch and crosses his arms, and I can’t help but notice the way it stretches his thin sweater under his jacket, making his already-broad chest seem wider. I don’t let myself linger on this. “Were you going to go after it on foot, then?”

I scowl. “It’s an option.”

“This would be the part where one might saythank you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” I huff.

He rolls his eyes, shooting Rhona a look. “She’s definitely yours.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Rhona says with an innocent smile.

Lachlan shakes his head, shooting me one last look before hedarts back into the rain toward his older Rover. He’s tucked inside and backing down the drive in a matter of seconds, and Rhona’s impatient tone pulls me out of watching him go.

“Come on, then,” she says. “Get inside.”