“Great!” Libby said. “Oh, by the way,” she added as she grabbed a bag from the backseat, “I spoke to Tyrone Johnson. He and his wife Linda are the two in charge of the family reunion. He said the Johnsons will begin arriving next Thursday.”
“Oh wow,” Madeline said. “I still need to negotiate a group rate for the rafting and horseback riding.”
“Already done,” Libby said proudly.
But that was Madeline’s task. Negotiation was kind of her thing.
“You weren’t here,” Libby said, as if she had guessed what Madeline was thinking. “The phone service was restored and I had time.” She laughed. “Our first phone call was from Jackson of course,” she said, shifting the bag to her hip as she began to walk toward the house. “But he had some amazing news. Apparently, he’s been contacted about using the ranch as a destination wedding venue later in the summer.”
“Oh wow, he really needs to take the website down,” Madeline said.
“Really?” Libby asked, pausing. “I thought it was a good sign. This place has great potential.”
Madeline felt a squeeze of irritation and disappointment. Maybe it was great for Libby, but it sure wasn’t great for her. “I just don’t see how this destination thing is going to happen. I mean Emma has already checked out—”
“Not entirely. I talked to her yesterday.”
“You did?” Madeline asked, surprised. “What did she say?”
Libby shrugged and walked into the kitchen, putting her bags down onto the little kitchen table.
“Libby?” Madeline prodded her.
Libby picked up a towel and began to wipe down the counter, making huge circles with her cloth, as if there was some horrible spill there. “She wanted to know what was going on, what we are doing with the reunion.”
“So is she coming to help?” Madeline asked.
“No,” Libby said. “We just talked.”
“That was nice of her to call,” Madeline said with not a little bit of sarcasm. “She’s obviously not interested in keeping this place. And I’m going back to Orlando. I just sold this really big house that opens up a lot of doors for me. So how exactly are we going to pull this off?”
“I’ll do it,” Libby said, looking slightly offended.
Madeline sighed. “Come on, Libby. This is not a one-person job.”
Libby didn’t say anything to that. Madeline sensed Libby knew she was right and didn’t want to admit it. But Madeline wanted away from this ranch, especially after last night’s brush with true, deep emotion. Emotion that, if left unchecked, if left to grow, could mortally wound her. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to finish off her list and get out of town, as far from Luke Kendrick as she could get. She wanted to go back to Orlando and finalize the DiNapoli deal. She wanted to get her movie guide from Stephen and make popcorn and stay socked away in her condo, and venture out only to the soccer field. Just… away from things that would hurt her.
“I know it won’t be easy, Madeline,” Libby said. “But I want to try and make it work. If nothing else, for Dad’s sake.”
Something about those words detonated inside of Madeline. Maybe it was the stress of having felt something so profound with Luke, or maybe just the notion that here she and Libby were, taking days and weeks from their lives to fix some colossal mess their father had made before he’d died, but Madeline exploded. “For Dad’s sake?” she loudly exclaimed. “We don’t owe him anything, Libby! He was a horrible father. He was absent, he was cheap, and he was self-centered. This isn’t a gift, it’s a burden, it’s another damn burden he’s heaped on me. He left me with nothing but the burden of my mother, who was no mother at all, and now this? This stupid ranch with this stupid reunion has taken us away from everyone we love just so we can fix it for him. What do you think will come from this, huh? I’ll tell you what—a lot of aggravation and hurt feelings and more misery, that’s what.”
Her chest was heaving, Madeline realized. She’d been shouting, too, and she suddenly realized what she’d just said.
All the blood had drained from Libby’s face. She was gaping at Madeline. “Wow,” she said. “Just go then, Madeline. No one is asking you to stay, least of all me.”
“Libby, I am sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t,” Libby said curtly. “Don’t apologize again. Please.” She whirled around and strode from the kitchen.
“Libby!” Madeline shouted after her, but it was no use. She sank down onto a barstool and buried her face in her hands. She hated herself in that moment. She hated that she could hurt Libby and hurt Luke. That was not what she wanted, and she hated that she couldn’t seem to stop herself, either. There was a vortex of resentment in her, swirling around, faster and faster, sucking her into it, colliding with the tsunami of fear that was always, always cresting through her.
Madeline heard the sound of a car and sat up. She rushed into the living room just in time to see Libby’s little car bouncing over the road, away from Homecoming Ranch.