“Oh, sugar plum,” Evie cooed. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. Do you know how lucky you are? You are stunningly beautiful with a perfect figure. I would kill to still have that body,” she said enviously. “Stop trying to be something you’re not, and work with the assets you have.” She pushed the paper at Brooke. “Don’t limit your possibilities because of your silly pride.” A wry smile spread over her lips. “And yes, if we’re speaking matter-of-factly, the fact that he’s an up-and-coming star doesn’t hurt.”
A futile frustration boiled inside of Brooke. Talking to her mother was like trying to reason with a mule. “Nash and I are over,” she said flatly, tossing the paper aside. “He left me, Mother. End of story.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.
“Quit playing the martyr. Nash didn’t leave you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. He was lucky you gave himthe time of day. He went through a hard time when his mother passed away. If only you’d been patient and waited for him to come around, then things would’ve been different. But the moment Dawson came into town and started working for your father, you latched onto him. Classic rebound.”
Brooke let out an incredulous laugh. “Really? You’re twisting this thing around, so that it’s my fault?” She jumped up. “Nash left me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She reached for the paper, wadded it up, and threw it across the room. “Dawson left me! Maybe it’s because I’m fat with dry hair! I hate them both!”
Evie held up her hands. “Calm down and stop acting like a baby,” she snapped. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”
Before Brooke could answer, Evie cocked her head, listening. “Was that the doorbell?”
“Oh, who cares!”
“Shh!” she hissed, craning her ears.
The bell chimed again.
She jumped up, her eyes twinkling. “It just might be your lucky day. Just don’t do anything stupid!”
Her mother wasn’t making a lick of sense. “What?”
“Come on. Let’s answer it.” Evie rushed out the door, dragging Brooke with her.
“Stop!” Brooke hissed, digging in her heels. Her mother was up to something. “What’s going on here?”
She flashed a mysterious smile. “You’ll see.”
This wasn’t going to end well. Not well at all. Despite her better judgment, Brooke allowed her mother to pull her down the stairs, to the front door. Before she opened it, she turned and gave Brooke the once-over. “I wish we’d had time to change your clothes.” She licked a finger and began using it to smooth down Brooke’s hair.
Brooke batted her hand and stepped back. “What’re you doing? Have you lost your mind?”
“I guess that’s about as good as it’s going to get right now,” Evie said, shaking her head. Then she did what Brooke called the Evie two-step—she straightened her shoulders and plastered on the beauty pageant smile that earned her the Miss Texas title when she was in her twenties. Brooke could feel trouble coming on like a raging tornado. Before she could stop her, Evie threw open the door. “Well, Nash Rigby, this is a surprise,” she drawled in a voice that would’ve melted sugar. “It’s so good to see you.” She took his arm, practically pulling him inside. “That bull riding has been treating you well. You look fantastic.”
Brooke just stood there, bug-eyed. It was like her worst nightmare was materializing right before her very eyes. Blood was pumping so furiously through her head that she felt dizzy. She wanted to be anywhere but here.
Evie was a pro at playing the perfect hostess. She looked at Brooke with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
“Hello,” she mumbled, her face tomato red.
Nash’s expression was strained, and he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Hey,” he said softly. His eyes met hers, and he gave her a tentative smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah … you too.” The very sight of him in her foyer evoked a world of hurt. She’d opened her heart to him in a way that she’d never done with anyone else, and he’d rejected her. She would never get over it, and she certainly wouldn’t forgive him.
Evie motioned. “You two go on into the living room. I’ll make some lemonade.”
Lemonade? A hysterical laugh bubbled up in Brooke’s throat. She doubted very seriously that her mother even knew how to make lemonade.
“Oh, I can’t stay,” Nash said quickly. “I’m just dropping off some information, about the ranch, for Stewart. My dad asked me to get it to him today.”
“Nonsense,” Evie countered, “I won’t takenofor an answer.”
The panicked look on Nash’s face rekindled Brooke’s anger. For a split second, she felt like he was rejecting her all over again. And her mother’s little charade had gone on long enough. Rage boiled over her to the point where she was barely cognizant of the words that exploded from her mouth. “Oh, just let him go, Mother. The only reason Nash is even here is because he needs money to save his father’s ranch! He doesn’t care about your lemonade, and he cares even less about me!”
Evie gulped like she’d been punched. “Brooke! That’s no way to treat our guest!” She turned to Nash. “I’m so sorry.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No apology necessary, ma’am. Some things never change.” He gave Brooke a penetrating look. “And for the record, you’re wrong. I do care. I always have.”
“Well, you certainly have a funny way of showing it,” she flung back.