Page 113 of Rival

She should have a father’s love… Even if he doesn’t love her mother.

Hefting myself up from the bed after that depressing thought, I pop into the bathroom for a quick shower and let Ruth know I’m heading out. Since the house is done, I take the bag of things Jaxon packed for me along.

Ruth eyes it as I haul it outside, but keeps her comments to herself until I fill her in. “The house is finished. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here for a few days, but I don’twant to take up anymore of your space. You’ve been a godsend, Mrs. Danielson.”

“I do wish you’d call me Ruth. You’ll come here if you need anything, right?”

Hugging her tightly, we both laugh when she pats my stomach poking her. “I will, but now that this is done, I’ll get it listed to sell and find a place in town.”

She eyes me with concern. “I don’t like the idea of you bein’ on your own, honey, but I understand. Josiah and I will always be here. And you tell me if those boys give you any problems. Don’t let them push, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am. I do need to speak to them, though. We need to figure out how to move forward and what things will look like once I find out who her dad is.” My cheeks flush, hating to bring up that I still have no idea who fathered her.

With a sympathetic smile, she taps my stomach once more. “Nobody is perfect and God never gives us more than we can handle. It’ll work out in the end, no matter what path you choose. But tell me if you need me to tug on some ears. I’ve got them good and scared of me. They’re shakin’ in their boots each time they hear my name.”

The way she cackles has me laughing, and I wave goodbye, thanking her once more before I shut my door.

My drive to the house is easy, and as soon as I park, Griffin is waiting to pull open my door with a hand out to help me stand. I eye it warily, but take it. Talking to them is going to be hard enough, so starting off on the wrong foot doesn’t feel right.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, darlin’?”

His cheesy greeting feels simple, but it’s not. Not really. He must understand because he doesn’t push me any harder once he grabs my bag from the trunk, then follows me inside.

I prepare myself for the assault of stale smoke, so my first few inhales are careful. There’s nothing. It smells clean. Clinical. Disinfected and neutral.

Dropping my shoulders in relief, I take a larger breath and sigh in relief. “It’s gone,” I murmur. Griffin moves to my side and sets my bag on the floor.

“It’s better, that’s for sure. Does the paint smell bother you at all?” He seems worried, so I shake my head.

“Not at all. I can barely smell it. You repainted?” It’s a stupid question because as my eyes fly over the living room, I can see how bright the off-white paint seems. The walls were always tinged yellow from the tar sticking to the sheetrock, but it wasn’t something I paid much attention to until it actually bothered me.

Nodding slowly, his smile is reserved. “We did. Every inch of the house. I know you said we didn’t have to mess with your room, but we washed the walls and flooring in both your bedroom and bathroom, then painted those as well. Mason had his mom wash everything that was left in your drawers and on your bed. She remade it and put clothes back in the dresser, too. We didn’t want you to think we were going through your things without your permission, but it needed cleanin’.”

Looking away from him toward the kitchen, I chew on my cheek, hating that so many people saw the shameful state it was in. “Are they here? Mason and Jaxon? Their trucks were outside.”

“They’re out back. We started a bonfire once you said you wanted to talk. Figured it would help you to be outside, fresh air and everything. Plus, it’s a nice night and you’ll be able to see how clean everything is out there.”

Nodding and feeling quite overwhelmed, I ask, “Can you give me a few minutes? I’ll grab something to drink and head outsoon.” My voice is strained as nerves take over, but he doesn’t pressure me by asking if I’m alright.

More serious than I’ve ever seen him, he reaches out, pausing just before the tips of his fingers reach my cheek. “Yeah, darlin’. We’ll be waitin’. We’ll always wait for you.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Griffin

Idon’t rush outside, but I don’t dawdle either. It’s obvious Edith needs a few minutes to herself, and I want to give them to her.

With my hands in my pocket, I pick my way to the back part of the yard where both Jaxon and Mason are sitting in chairs, staring at the fire on opposite sides, staring silently at the flames as I approach.

They turn their heads simultaneously as I approach, Mason the first one to question me. “Is she coming?”

“Yeah, she’s coming out. Needed a few minutes,” I tell him, going to the other side of the fire and settling into the chair.

Mason hands me a beer as Jaxon asks, “What’d she think of the house?”

Smiling to myself, I crack the bottle open and take a sip. “She’s overwhelmed, but stunned by all we managed to do.”

“Was she bothered by—”