Page 126 of The Mountain Echoes

She licks her lips, keeps her baby blues on me. Any minute now, she’s going to flutter those eyelashes.

Celine looks innocent. I’ve got to give her that. Everyone who knows her thinks she’s soft, lovely, maybe not the sharpest tool in the shed but harmless.

“But…don’t you want to buy Longhorn? You said that if I just give her space and time, she’ll fail, and then you’ll buy it.” She rests her forehead against my chest. “I’m trusting you, Mav. You know we need the money.”

“I don’t think she’s goin’ to succeed,” I say calmly,carefully. I don’t want to spook her.

She raises her head and smiles. “Really?”

“Yeah. Someone’s been sabotaging her efforts. It’s been a mess.”

She blinks like she has no clue what I’m talking about, but I catch the smugness in her eyes. I know. I can’t prove it. But I know. It’s her. Hudson is probably involved as well, but she’s the one who’s put this together.

“I wonder who that could be.” She does flutter her eyelashes now. “It isn’t you, is it?”

“No, of course not,” I say, feigning just the right amount of indignation. “But folks are talkin’, sayin’ I’m helpin’ her for the wrong reasons. So, I gotta keep up appearances, yeah? Last thing I need is this town thinkin’ I’m out to sabotage her chances at Gunnison.”

I lay it on thick, feeding Celine exactly what she wants to hear. I need her calm, not spooked. The last thing Aria or Longhorn needs is Celine panicking and setting off another disaster.

I extricate myself from her embrace with the excuse of tearing a yellowing leaf on a lemon tree.

“What kind of sabotage is…happenin'?” she asks, all casual-like.

But her eyes gleam—like an arsonist hangin’ around just to watch the fire she lit.

“Sugar in the tractor. Contaminating the feed. Cutting the fence. Calling the organic Gestapo.”

“I hear the organic inspectors didn’t even file a complaint. Just let her go, saying it was a witch hunt, and she was set up.”

For a woman who just asked me what was going on at Longhorn, she’s obviously well informed.

“You know, I think she’ll fail…no matter what. She’s not a rancher,” Celine declares.

I make an effort not to clench my jaw and jump to Aria’s defense. “She’s alright.”

Celine laughs as if delighted. “So…how alright is she? Are you sleepin’ with her?”

I don’t want to discuss this with her in any way. “Does it matter?”

She shrugs. “I…I mean…it hurts, you know…’cause I thought that…well, doesn’t matter.”

She’s a master at looking injured. In the past, this act would’ve worked. I’d have coaxed her to tell me what was bothering her.

“Why does it hurt?” I ask casually.

I walk up to the kumquat tree in the corner of the greenhouse and reach out, brushing my fingers over a cluster of new buds. The leaves are glossy, the branchespruned just so. I check for leaf curl, pinch off a withered blossom, and tuck it into my palm. It gives me something to do with my hands while I try not to look at her.

“Because…I love you, Mav. You know that.”

I raise my eyes from the leaves to look at her. “Celine, darlin’, you’re married.”

“Not for long.”

“Speakin’ of, where is Hudson?” If he and Celine are working together to harm Longhorn, which I think they are, I want to know where the fuck he is at all times.

“Went to Aspen, says he has a meeting….”

Her eyes are sad again. She can do this on command, and I’m impressed despite myself.