Page 7 of Conail (Members From Money Season 2, #150)

Maeve knew it was the perfect opening, but did not take it. The girl deserved a night of rest before being told of her future. The conversation could wait.

"Let's not discuss that now," Maeve said briskly as she took a seat across from her and picked up her glass. "Anything happening with you socially?"

Yasmine shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I've been too busy with work." She stirred the wedge of lemon absently. "And after what happened..." She let her voice trail off, reluctant to go back to a painful past. "Anyway, I am over all of that now."

"Are you sure, honey?" Her mother's voice was quiet and comforting, bringing tears to the back of her eyes. Reaching out a hand, she closed it over the one resting on the table. "I wanted to be there for you, to help you through it. But we had our own problems here."

"Mama, it's fine." Turning her hand over, she squeezed. "I dealt with it and now I am over it."

Maeve privately thought that was not the case but decided against saying anything.

"I really hope so. Now drink up your lemonade and go and see if your daddy is up. It's time for his medication."

She watched as her daughter rose and left the kitchen. Wrapping her hands around the ice-cold glass, she stared at the empty doorway. She would give her daughter tonight and then lay everything out on the table. It was time.

"Dad?" Yasmine hovered just inside the doorway of her parents' large and comfortable bedroom with its slightly shabby furnishings and stared at the man sitting on the edge of the bed.

The room was mostly in shadows, as he had drawn the lime green shades.

But it was light enough for her to see the stoop of his shoulders and the new lines around his eyes and mouth.

Feeling the tightness around her heart, she stepped into the room.

"You're here."

"I came about an hour ago." She wandered into the room slowly and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

"I bet your mama already fed you."

"She did." Reaching for one work-worn hand, she clasped it between hers. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come back after I was here when you had the stroke."

He jerked a shoulder. "You have your life to live, girl."

Up close, she could see the ravages of his illness and felt her heart twisting. "That's no excuse. I should have been here. Mama and Colin need the help."

"And I'm not able to lend a hand." His hands stirred restlessly between hers.

"I suppose you know how bad things are. The drought and my illness made a dent in the savings.

" He looked across the room, his face pensive.

"I used to rule the land. Was up from dawn to dusk and it never affected me. Now, I'm useless."

"Daddy--"

"Colin and your mother are left with the day-to-day running of the place and it's too much for them. They need help. We need to hire more people, but we cannot afford it." He swung his gaze to look at her. "And you've been sending your hard-earned money to try and fill the gap."

"I want to do more." Yasmine felt the guilt burning a hole inside her. "I have money saved up--"

"Oh, honey." He laughed weakly and squeezed her hands.

"It's going to take much more than savings to get things up and running.

" Pulling his hand away, he patted hers awkwardly and rose unsteadily.

"Let's go downstairs before your mama decides to come up and see what's keeping us.

" He turned to stare at her. "It's good to have you back home. "

Dinner was a somber affair with her mother carrying on most of the conversation. Her dad had never been a talker, but he seemed to have gotten more taciturn, responding briefly to questions thrown at him and bending his head to his meal.

Colin stopped in and collected a covered dish to go, muttering that he still had some work to do.

He looked so tired and defeated that Yasmine wanted to ease some of his troubles.

Pasting a bright smile on her lips, she answered her mother's questions and forced herself to eat the delicious pot pie and garden-fresh vegetables.

Declining the rich chocolate mousse and coffee, she excused herself and went up to her room.

Closing the door as soon as she stepped inside, she hovered there and took in the bold red and apple green coloring and shabby furnishings.

She had redecorated when she turned sixteen and was exploring her independence.

Her mother had given her freedom to choose the colors, and she had gone for the eye-poppers.

A lovely quilt was draped over the bed and pillows were propped against the solid mahogany headboard. The posters she had collected as a teen still hung on the walls and her bookcase was loaded with books of every genre. Her brother had placed her cases at the foot of the bed.

Hefting the largest one, she placed it on the bed and opened it. A shower was sorely needed and then she was going to find Colin and drag some answers out of him.

*****

It was cooling down and the scent of rain was heavy in the air. They needed the rain, but he was afraid there would be some flooding accompanying it.

He had taken the horse out to exercise it and just get away. He could have stayed for dinner, but he was afraid of the conversation around the dinner table. His sister was going to be the sacrificial lamb, and he was not certain how he felt about any of it.

He had brought a six-pack of beer with him and was on the second one.

He would chill here under the old oak tree and allow the trickle of the stream to wash over him.

He also refused to think about Maddy or the fact that he had taken her virginity right here.

An old blanket and a thermos of lemonade filched from the kitchen.

They had been eighteen years old and had been ready. Or so they believed.

Lifting the bottle to his lips, he swallowed the Bud, trying to wash away the bitterness.

An irritated sigh escaped him when he heard the canter of hooves and knew exactly who it was. His sister always knew where to find him.

"There's a full moon." He did not turn around when she dismounted and draped the reins over a sapling. "It's beautiful."

She wandered towards him when he did not respond.

"This has always been our favorite spot.

" She sat next to him and stretched her legs out.

Lifting her head, she gazed at the velvety sky with its scattering of clouds and stars.

"Everything is so big. This is one of the things I missed when I was away. "

"I came out here to be alone. You really should take the hint."

Plucking out a bottle, she twisted the cap and tossed it into the bushes. Taking a sip, she grimaced and had his lips curving slightly. "It's not wine."

"I've been known to knock back a Bud or two." She flickered a glance at him. "You taught me how."

He shrugged and went back to his drinking.

"The parents were acting weird at dinner, anything I should know about?"

He was careful not to look at her for fear of revealing what was on his mind. He had thought they would have mentioned the plan to her around the dinner table.

"Why didn't you ask them?"

"I'm asking you."

"I wasn't there."

"And you're evading the question."

He used anger as a defense. "That's the same bloody reason I'm out here by myself. To get some damn peace."

"I'm sorry."

He turned his head to stare at her, a frown marring his brow. "For what?"

"For leaving." Putting the bottle down, she drew up her knees and wrapped her hands around them. "For abandoning you and our parents when help was needed."

"You were following your dreams."

"That's no excuse." She sighed a little. "He looks old."

"Who? Dad?"

She nodded, tears wetting her eyes. "I saw him sitting on the edge of his bed and it struck me that he's not young anymore.

" A wistful smile touched her lips. "I remember when he used to take us fishing and for joy rides on the tractor.

He taught us to ride and swim. I always thought he was the strongest man in the world. "

"He always said you were a quick learner."

"Mama used to hate when he had us riding the tractor along with him. She feared we would fall off and hurt ourselves." Her expression turned sober. "Is he really recovering?"

"Time changes everything," he replied softly, his voice barely a whisper. He felt a pang of guilt mixed with a deep sense of melancholy. The memories of their father, once a pillar of strength, now seemed like distant echoes.

"He's still strong in many ways," he added, trying to comfort her. "But we all have to face the reality that we're getting older."

She nodded, wiping away a tear. "I just wish I could make it up to him, be there for him now."

"You're here now," he said, his tone softening. "It's never too late to reconnect."

They sat in silence, the night enveloping them in its serene embrace, both lost in thoughts of the past and the uncertain future. The bond between them, despite the distance and time, felt unbroken, a silent promise of familial love and understanding.

They remained silent for a few more minutes, each settled in their own thoughts. Somewhere an owl hooted and the sounds of squirrels scampering up the trees added to the mystery of the night.

"What the hell happened to your hair?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Laughing softly, she passed a hand over the tightly coiled curls. "I wanted a change. Mama was quite horrified."

He recalled pigtails and braids when they were growing up and how he had enjoyed pulling them whenever she was close.

Turning his head to stare at her, he decided grudgingly that the style suited her.

They both had similar bone structures, but her face was rounded while his was narrow -- the bones well-defined.

Her skin was a smooth and flawless cocoa brown, eyes large, with surprisingly long lashes.

"Was it because of that spineless asshole you were seeing?"