Page 60 of The Promise Of Rain

I pulled on my boots and grabbed my coat before edging the door open.

A finely etched eyebrow rose sardonically.“Going somewhere?”

Blocking the gap with my body, I replied, “I need to run down to the store.Did you need something?”

She pushed on the door.“I need to talk to you.”

I held firm.“Downstairs.We can talk in the kitchen downstairs.”

“Fine,” she snapped.

Whirling around in a swirl of faux fur and cheap perfume, she glided down the stairs with her head held high.

In her high heeled boots, she was lucky Deacon salted the steps again.

Sucking in a steadying breath, I locked my door and followed her.

Once inside the bakery, I offered her a stool and rounded the counter.“Would you like a cinnamon bun, Mom?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, her eyes running down my body as she settled her slight frame in front of the counter.“You could do with a few less of those yourself.”

“I’m not worried,” I replied lightly, barely restraining myself from rolling my eyes.

I looked around at the meagre leftovers I had bagged and ready for the morning.“Would you like—”

“I would like to know what your intentions are with Deacon Raine.”

I cocked my head to the side.“What do you mean?”

She snorted.“I’ve heard whisperings of you and him spending time together.What the hell are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking of giving him a second chance,” I snapped back.

I never answered back.

Ever.

My modus operandi was to keep my head down, float below the radar, and stick to the shallow end of the pool.

Her eyes flared, then she laughed.“What are we going to do?Play happy family at the wedding?Maybe he’ll escort me down the aisle?”

She flounced around in a circle, her hand fluttering at her chest.“Oh, I’m on the bride’s side.”

Pantomiming looking around, she widened her eyes, and exclaimed, “Oh, really?It’s just me?Well, why don’t I just sit with the groom’s parents?”

“Stop,” I ordered, the tiny bit of backbone I displayed earlier deflating with every vicious word from her mouth.

She stalked toward me and stuck her finger in my face.“No, Jenny.You stop.We’re not like those people, okay?We work in the fields, they own the farm.You’ll never be good enough for them.”

Quietly furious and sick to death of not measuring up, I stated, “Maybe it’s only you who’s not good enough for them.”

I didn’t see the slap coming.

But I felt it.

My head snapped to the right, my cheek already blazing before I turned back and leveled her with my gaze.

Shock widened her eyes and parted her lips, but she recovered quickly.Drawing herself up to her full height, she lifted her chin and stated, “I’m sorry, but it had to be done.You need to get your head on straight.”