Inheritance for Christmas (Holly Ridge Christmas #1)

9. Avery

9

AVERY

C onfusion floods through me as I look from Edna to Blake and back again.

“W-what are you talking about?” I demand. “He’s not the owner of the farm. I am.”

Blake’s bemused expression fades away entirely, his complexion waxing even in the surrounding darkness. “Where did you hear that?” he growls. “How could you possibly have heard that already?”

“That’s the thing about rumors, handyman. No one knows how or where they start, really. I thought that you might have eloped since the last time I saw you,” Edna replies flippantly with a wicked grin. “Because I know she’s the owner of the farm.”

Kinrade… I know the name, and my head whips toward Blake. “The Kinrades who came by the farm today? Is that who she’s talking about? You talked to him about selling my farm?”

“Seems like I’ve said more than I should,” Edna says lightly, stepping away from the gate as the dogs return with the ball. “Whoops.” She throws it again and wanders off to follow the dogs, leaving us to face one another.

But we’re not paying any attention to her. I gawk at Blake accusingly. “Is that what you were doing? Trying to sell off my land?” I ask in disbelief. “My grandfather’s land?”

“No!” he proclaims, shaking his head vigorously. “Of course not!”

I step back, hurt piercing my heart as I gape at him. “Are you saying that Edna’s lying? Or she’s just a really good guesser?”

“No, it wasn’t like that, Avery,” he sighs.

“You didn’t talk to him about my land?”

“I did?—”

“You had no right! It’s my property, not yours!” I choke, stunned that I have to have this conversation with him. “Why would you do something like that?”

“Mr. Kinrade came to the farm interested in purchasing it?—”

“So you thought you would negotiate with him?” I cut him off, my temper flaring.

“I thought I would hear him out.”

I can’t even talk to him, my upset overwhelming him. “I’m going home.”

Spinning around, I march back down toward the entrance, and he hurries to keep stride with me. “I’ll take you?—”

“No, I’ll walk,” I tell him coldly. “It’s not far.”

“Please, Avery?—”

I stop and face him, my blood boiling. “Blake, I need you to give me some space right now because I’m afraid I’m going to say something I might regret if you don’t.”

His lips clamp shut, and he nods curtly, allowing me to turn and leave. I scurry out of the park, tears of frustration burning behind my eyelids.

Has he been betting against me this whole time?

That hurts me more than him trying to negotiate a sale on my behalf. All this time, he’s pretended to be on my side, to be rooting for the farm’s success.

I guess I’ll just have to do it on my own then. Not that it’s anything new. I’m used to doing it by myself. It just would have been nice to have someone with me this time.

“Are you really still in Montana, Avery?” My mom is irritated. “It’s almost Christmas. I have gifts for you under the tree.”

Pursing my lips, I sink back into the old corduroy couch and exhale, stifling my annoyance.

“That’s why I was calling, Mom.” It’s like she purposely doesn’t hear a word I say. “I was hoping you would come to Holly Ridge for Christmas. It’s so beautiful up here with all the snow, and it’s decorated?—”

“Ha!” Her laugh cuts me off, and then there’s silence. “Oh, my gosh. You’re serious. Are you kidding?”

Disappointment rushes through me, although I’m not sure what else I expected from her. “No, Mom. I’m really trying to make this farm profitable. It’s just proving to be much harder than I expected?—”

“I warned you, didn’t I?” she snaps. “Just get rid of the house and the farm and come home. I still can’t believe you just picked up and moved there. If you’d told me what you were planning beforehand, I would have tried to talk some sense into you.”

“I didn’t just—” I inhale and collect myself. I don’t want to get into a fight with her. “Mom, I’m not coming back to Austin, but I really don’t want to spend Christmas alone. Will you please come here to be with me?”

She laughs that cruel laugh that cuts my heart in half. “Why don’t you call your daddy? You’re at his parents’ place, aren’t you? Maybe he’ll come spend Christmas with you.”

“Mom—”

“I have to go. If you come to your senses, you know where to find me. Here, at home, where you belong, too.”

She hangs up, and I’m left holding the phone, swallowing quickly as a lump forms in my throat. My relationship with my mom has always been complicated, but she’s my mom, and I still hope that after all these years, she will change—become the type of mom I have always wanted.

But it’s time I give up on that dream. It will never happen.

A therapist once told me to rate my parents on a scale from one to ten. I gave my dad a one and my mom a three. Every time they disappoint me, I’m supposed to remind myself of the ratings I gave them. So right now, I can just remember that my mom is a three, and that’s why she isn’t responding the way I want her to.

I set the device down on the coffee table and sink back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as I try to decide what to do. My cell phone chimes, and I jump to grab it, hoping it’s her again, changing her mind.

Blake: Can we please talk?

I’m half temped to ignore it, but I can’t avoid him forever, and a full day of not talking to him has already been excruciating when we’ve spent so much time together. I miss him, and after that conversation with my mother, I want to hear his voice.

Me: I’m home. You can come over if you want.

He responds immediately.

Blake: On my way!

I pace the living room, looking out the front window every few minutes, and when his truck pulls up, I exhale with a fusion of relief and apprehension. I’m not sure how I’m going to handle his apology or if I’m ready to forgive him, but I also don’t like the idea of staying mad at him.

At least I should hear what he has to say, I decide, but I’m still upset. Opening the front door, I peer at him warily, trying to read his expression.

“Hi,” he says, ambling toward me cautiously.

“Hi.” I linger at the threshold, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I come in?” I nod and step back, allowing him inside. He exhales, removing his boots, and I realize he’s been out working all day. A stab of guilt pierces me.

If he’s been betting against me, why has he sacrificed so much for me?

I shove aside the nagging question. It doesn’t change the fact that he negotiated on my behalf and went behind my back. Still, I promised to hear him out.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask.

He shakes his head, and I amble back into the living room to sit down. Blake follows my lead, perching on my grandad’s favorite wing chair.

“Well?” I demand, folding my arms over my chest. “You wanted to talk?”

He nods, and I wait for his apology. Folding his hands, Blake bows his head. He takes a deep breath as if he’s collecting his words, and I cock my head.

“Look, I know how Edna made it sound, but it didn’t go down that way. Mark Kinrade thought I had interest in the farm.”

I scoff lightly.

“And you didn’t tell him otherwise,” I conclude.

“No,” he replies honestly. “I didn’t. Because I thought you should hear his offer, and I didn’t think you would listen to him. So I thought I would hear what he had to say on your behalf.”

My mouth slacks. “Why, Blake?! You know how important that property is to me! It’s my grandparents’ legacy!”

“It’s a money pit,” he answers flatly. “And it’s only going to get worse if you keep investing in it the way you are.”

His candor is a slap in the face. I realize the apology I was expecting isn’t coming. “This isn’t your choice to make,” I tell him coldly.

“I know,” he agrees with a firm nod. “Which is why I ultimately didn’t say anything—and I never would have. It’s none of my business. I should stay out of it—and I would have.”

My brow furrows deeper. “But… but you offered to help me…” I say slowly. “I thought you were helping me.”

He exhales deeply. “I wanted to help you—I want to help you,” he corrects himself. He stops and thinks about his next words again. “It’s really hard for me, Avery, because I really like you. I think you’re amazing and brilliant. You’re so passionate and beautiful, but I can’t watch you do this. You’re going to get beaten down by all of it.”

My jaw slacks. “Do what?” I choke. “Fight for my family’s land?”

“It’s not fighting when it’s a lost cause,” he sighs. “I told you about my dad and what he did. Getting tangled up in something like this again—it’s too painful to sit by and watch.”

My heart sinks as I sit forward. “What are you saying?”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do around the farm,” he says. “I’ll finish the renovations in the barn and whatever else you need, but I really don’t think I can commit to much more than that with you.”

He stands, and I find myself doing the same, my chest tightening. “So that’s it?” I ask, my voice cracking. “That’s the end of the partnership?”

Blake’s eyes meet mine sadly. “I wish you knew how much hardship you’re in for if this fails,” he tells me softly.

“ If it fails,” I insist. “Why are you so sure it’s going to? It doesn’t have to with the right support!”

His gaze lingers on me, but he doesn’t relent. “I really do want you to succeed,” he tells me honestly. “Goodbye, Avery.”

I watch him head toward the door, and I want to stop him, to grab his arm and pull him back and force him to stay, but I don’t.

I’m going to be all alone on Christmas with my failing farm and no one, not even my mom.