Holiday Hire (The Cartwright Family #2)

Chapter 6

6

Phoebe

Several Days Later

" W here are you, Phoebe?" Lance demands for the fifth time.

"Now you want to know?" I question, pissed off. I've not heard from him since the night I returned to California.

As if it's normal to disappear for days, he claims, "I told you I was busy."

Enraged and hurt, I snap, "Busy! For how many days? Let's be real. You haven't thought about me once. Now that you've sobered up and I'm not there, you want to know where I'm at?"

He groans. "Stop being dramatic. I went out and had things to do. Now, stop playing games. Tell me where you're hiding out."

I shake my head, pacing my room. "I told you I'm in Texas. I accepted a new job."

"Yeah, right."

Infuriated, I snarl, "What do you mean, 'yeah, right'?"

He scoffs. "Why the hell would you go to Texas and leave California? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

A wave of anger crashes in my stomach. "There's nothing wrong with Texas."

He snorts, claiming, "There's nowhere better than California. Anyone even considering leaving is a fool."

I run my hand through my hair, glancing out the window. It's a nice, sunny day. The air turned crisp a few days ago, but it's still decent weather. And I'd rather be outside than having this conversation that is going nowhere. So I state, "I have to go, Lance."

"Wait," he cries out.

I pause, my heart pounding hard.

He lowers his voice, and it tugs at my heart, just like it always does when he uses that tone. He says, "Phoebe, where are you? Come on, don't play games. I miss you."

I close my eyes, sighing. He always does this. He messes up and then professes his feelings for me. Whenever he does, I cave and let whatever he's done get buried in a grave of disappointment.

He's not going to manipulate me this time.

He disappeared for days!

He repeats, "Phoebe, where are you?"

"I told you, I'm in Texas," I say, softer, hating how he can make my tone lose its edge.

"Where?"

"At the Cartwright Ranch."

A moment of silence falls between us. Lance finally mutters, "The Cartwrights?"

"Yes," I confirm.

"Why are you at the Cartwrights' Ranch?" he questions, adding, "You know nothing about country living."

I don't know why his comment offends me. It's true; I know more about oceans and mountain life than this one. But Lance's way of saying it makes me think I can't figure this out, but I can. I know I can. I've been on the ranch for the past few days, and there isn't anything I don't like about it.

So I reply, "I told you I have a job."

"What kind of job?" he pushes.

"I'm nannying for them."

"Nannying? You have a degree, for God's sake," he says, as if nannying is beneath me.

"Yeah, I do. So what? It doesn't make me unqualified."

"You're supposed to be teaching art. Why aren't you doing that, Phoebe?"

I cringe inside. It's the same accusation he always makes.

Lance has never understood the dynamics I faced working for the school system. I did it for a few years, but I couldn't handle it anymore.

Several kids threatened to punch me in class. They'd call me names and not do their work, and I could do nothing about it. The administration wasn't supportive of their teachers. Parents were an even bigger joke, mostly absent whenever I tried to contact them.

So, I spent the last year trying to get into a better school district, but no one was giving up their jobs—especially art teachers, which is a dying subject in many districts.

Lance knows everything I've gone through while teaching. I've hidden nothing from him, yet he can't seem to show me any sympathy or realize how much the environment I worked in affected me.

The last thing I want to do is rehash things with him. He's never going to try to understand where I'm coming from. He'll always think I need to be an art teacher in a school, and nothing else.

He adds, "Or we can get married, then you don't have to work. It's silly that you even thought you had to get another job. You know you'll be my wife someday, and I have money."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. When I first met Lance, I saw our future together. And it's what I wanted. Now, I'm not so sure.

He always talks about marriage, yet he's never actually proposed. I'm unsure what I'd say if he got down on a knee and offered me a ring.

He lowers his voice, whining, "Phoebe, come on, babe. It's time to stop these childish antics and return to California. I'll take care of you. You don't have to worry about this nanny nonsense or getting a job. I think it's time we start our life anyway."

My pulse shoots to the sky, and I should be happy that he wants to finally commit. But I don't trust him. Right now, I don't really trust myself to make the right decision either. So, I muster up all my courage and tell him what I wanted to tell him in person before I left California but couldn't because he was nowhere to be found. "Lance, we've been together a long time."

"We sure have. So stop being dramatic. You know I love you. No one will ever love you the way I do either," he adamantly states.

Fear hits me. It always does when he says that, and I usually tell myself to be thankful he loves me. I could be alone, but Lance usually treats me well.

What if it's true, and no one will ever love me better than him?

What if I give him up and end up alone in life?

My insides quiver. An older version of me, alone and unloved, fills my mind.

"Admit I'm right," he insists.

He's not.

Is he?

I muster my courage and state, "If we're going to survive this, we need to take some time and figure out what's important to both of us. Then we can make a decision to continue forward or not."

"Make it through what?" he questions.

I sigh, explaining, "I love you, Lance. But things haven't been good between us for a while. I think it's best if we take a time-out. Then, we have some space to think. We don't want to make a bad decision and stay together just because we've been together so long."

"Don't be silly. There's no reason to take a time-out. Stop playing games, Phoebe," he demands.

"I'm not playing games. I've tried talking to you, but you don't listen. I wanted to talk to you about this before I left?—"

"So you just run off to Texas and throw this on me over the phone," he spouts.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you face-to-face, but where were you? Huh? And I'm still waiting for you to tell me where you've been the last few days!"

He ignores my question and replies, "I'm not playing this game, Phoebe."

"It is not a game! We're taking a break. Some space between us will be good, and when my job's over, we can talk and decide what we want to do going forward," I adamantly repeat.

"And when exactly is this job over?" he fires back.

"Two months."

"Two months? Are you serious, Phoebe? You think I'm going to just let my life sit on hold for two months while you do whatever you're doing on that ranch?" he fumes.

I squeeze my eyes shut again, holding on to the window sill. His voice is taking on the tone that I hate. It tends to turn ugly and makes me want to crawl into a hole and never come out. So I gently order, "Calm down, Lance."

"Don't you tell me to calm down," he hurls.

I cringe, then lift my chin, square my shoulders, and stare out at the ranch.

It's Saturday. The boys are running around the yard. Alexander and his brothers are in the corral, working their horses. The posts and fences all have lights, burlap, and pine cones wrapped around them.

The sight normally makes me feel happy, but right now, nothing is calming the shaking in my gut. And I realize I want to be outside, not arguing with Lance. So I say, "I'm hanging up now. We can talk about this later. Maybe in a few days?"

He booms, "A few days?"

Anger hits me at a new high. It slaps me, pushing past all the heartache and disappointment I was starting to feel again. I seethe, "Yeah, Lance, in a few days. That should be fine since you know how to disappear and not tell me where you are. Correct?"

"Don't you?—"

"I'm hanging up now," I inform him, then hit the button and toss my phone on my bed.

"Ugh!" I exclaim, leaning against the wall and staring at the ceiling, taking deep breaths, trying to slow my racing heart. I don't know how long I stand there until I'm finally calm enough to leave my bedroom.

I'm halfway through the house when I run into Willow.

She chirps, "Hey, I was coming to get you."

I smile. I really like Willow. Ever since the first day, she's made a point every night to come talk to me and try to hang out. We're becoming friends, which I didn't expect when I took this job.

We're only a year apart in age. We have a lot in common, but she's also a breath of fresh air, as her world is so different from mine.

"Okay, so you're still going to come with me tonight, right?" she asks, her eyes burning with excitement.

I laugh. "I'd love to. But are you sure it's okay for me not to be on kid duty?" I ask, still worried that the boys might need me.

She scoffs. "Yeah, of course. Alexander and the boys will be there anyway. Actually, so will our entire family."

I arch my eyebrows. "They will?"

She nods. "Yes. Tonight's a charity event for the Thanksgiving holiday. All the money raised goes to the food bank to feed needy families over the holidays."

"That's great," I declare.

She nods. "There are a lot of different events over the next few months since we're getting into the holidays. But the rodeo is one of the biggest events. The food bank really depends on the money that'll be raised tonight."

"We had a lot of different programs in the school where the food bank was involved."

"I bet. But we should talk about the most important part."

"What's that?"

She wiggles her eyebrows. "I get to introduce you to all the bull riders."

I groan but can't help smiling. "Willow! I thought we went over this."

She laughs. "We did, but you're on a break with your boyfriend, right?"

The conversation with Lance fills my mind. My insides quiver once more.

She puts her hand on my forearm. "Hey, what's wrong? Did I upset you?"

I shake my head. "No. I just had a conversation with Lance. That's all."

Concern fills her expression. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

I force a smile, answering, "No. I'd rather not if that's okay?"

She studies me and then nods. "Okay. But I'm always here to talk if you need someone."

"Thank you," I gratefully tell her, then admit, "And thank you for being so kind to me. I didn't expect to meet anyone so soon I thought I could call my friend."

She grins, babbling, "Well, good. My mom said we were going to be good friends. She's usually right about these things. She's horrible about picking women for my brothers or men for me and my sisters. But she's good at friendships."

"Your mom's a great woman."

"She is. And I still can't believe they're leaving for a mission trip over the holidays. It's the best time of year, and our family celebrates like nobody else."

Happiness envelops me. I've always loved the holidays but never spent them anywhere except in California. I'm excited to see how the Cartwrights spend Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's. Even being on the ranch with everything decorated shows they love celebrating. I can't imagine what it's going to look like for Christmas and New Year's.

They also seem to be a very close family, but they don't hide it when they don't like something someone does. I respect how they interact with each other. They put it all out on the table, but in a way where they still love each other.

Plus, I've never been around a big family. I have a sister who got into a car accident. She lives in a home because she can't support herself and is incapacitated both mentally and physically. I try to visit her as often as possible, but she no longer knows who I am.

It's been eight years since that accident, and it still hurts. My sister and I were close before it happened. My mother and father divorced long ago, and we were each other's rock. When the accident happened, it changed everything in my family.

My mother suffers from depression. She was driving the car, and the guilt over that finally got to be too much for her to take. Several years ago, I had to admit her into a facility because she isn't able to take care of herself. I try to visit her as well, but it's hard. Both my sister and mother are in state-funded places, and they're several hours away in opposite directions.

My father disappeared shortly after the accident. I have no clue where he lives or what happened to him.

There was one holiday I spent alone. The next year, I met Lance and have been with his family since.

It could be another reason I feel tied to him and keep trying to make it work. It may be why it's harder for me to break up with him for good, even though I'm relieved I don't have to see his family over the holidays this year.

Strangely, I feel more at home with the Cartwrights after a few days with them than I ever have with Lance's family. But I never would've complained about them. I was always grateful I had somewhere to go during this time of year.

Willow tilts her head. "Sorry. Did I say something else that upset you?"

I shake it off. "No. Everything's fine. I'm just really happy to be here."

"We're happy you're here too."

"I just hope your brother decides to keep me on," I say, trying to make a joke, but the fear in my voice comes out.

The truth is, if Alexander doesn't let me stay, I don't know what I'll do. I don't want to have to go back and live with Lance. We really do need space to figure things out between us. If we live together in the future, I want it to be our choice, not a necessity because I'm broke and have nowhere else to go.

Yet, every day, Alexander makes it clear my time here is limited. Monday is coming soon, and no matter how much I try to show him I can help out with the boys, he's determined not to let me stay.

Willow groans and rolls her eyes, declaring, "My brother's a moron. Don't worry. You're staying."

"How do you know that? He seems determined to make sure I leave on Monday."

She waves her hand in front of us. "Nah, he'll let you stay. Don't worry."

"He doesn't seem to be the type who changes his mind very easily. I'm trying my best, but…"

She scoffs. "Oh, we know you're trying. But don't worry. Everybody sees how good you are for the boys and him."

"Him?" I question, the heat rising in my cheeks, which I hate.

"Yeah, he needs help too. You're good for him. But anyway, let's talk about important stuff." She leans closer, lowers her voice, and states, "There are two bull riders I think you're going to be into tonight."

I sigh, asserting, "Willow, I don't want to get into a relationship right now. I need time to consider whether I want Lance in my life or not."

She shrugs. "Yes, but you're taking space. You're on a break. That means you get to see what's out there. Right?" Her eyes dazzle brighter.

I don't know how to answer her question. The thought of Lance seeing what else is out there, hurts. And I don't think it's fair to do that to him because I wouldn't want him to see anyone else.

A new flash of panic hits me.

Will he do that?

No, he wouldn't.

How do I know?

He might've done it before, I remind myself, the sick feeling in my gut reappearing over all the nights I've spent wondering if he's been faithful.

Willow's eyes turn to slits. "Why do you look sad again?"

"No reason. I just don't think I'm ready to date anyone," I confess.

She puts her arm around mine and leads me through the house. "That's okay. You don't have to date them. You can just have some fun."

I stay quiet.

"Hint, hint," she nudges.

I laugh, stating, "While that sounds really appealing, I don't know."

We step out onto the porch. A gust of wind hits me, and I cross my arms over my chest, wondering if I should grab a jacket.

Willow adds, "Tell you what, why don't I just introduce you to them and then whatever happens from there is your call?"

I stare at her. "You won't push me to do anything?"

She puts her hands in the air. "Nope. Scout's honor."

"You promise?"

"Promise," she sing-songs.

I cave. "Okay, fine. You can introduce me to them."

She claps her hands and beams at me. "Great. Now, let's talk about what you're going to wear tonight. I have a few gifts for you."