Page 22 of The Lilac River

My brows lifted. "What window?"

She winced. "I hit a baseball through the barn window. It was an accident."

Before I could respond, Dad barked, "Nash, stop talking about the damn window and start talking about that woman."

Bertie gasped. "Grandpa said a bad word!"

"Yeah, I know, Munchkin." I turned to him, steel in my voice. "Do not curse in front of my daughter."

He rolled his shoulders, jaw tight, clearly choking back whatever venom was next. But then he turned to me again. "Lily Jones. What are we going to do about her?"

Exhaling slowly, I pressed my fingers into my temples. "Just go," I said. "Go back to your Mayoral throne. Let me live my life."

"But—"

"Dad, I don’t want to hear it."

"Nash, son?—"

"I don't like interrupting people," I said, voice low and cutting. "Mom taught us it was bad manners. But I willgladlykeep interrupting you if you keep talking about something that’s none of your damn business."

Bertie nodded solemnly. "Daddy says interrupting is like stealing someone’s words. And those words might be important."

His mouth thinned. He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a second, I thought maybe something would crack. But it didn’t.

I stepped forward, hand flat against his chest.

"Get. Out."

His eyes burned. He stamped his foot like a spoiled kid and pointed a shaking finger at me, but when I widened my stance and glared, he finally turned and stormed out.

The door slammed behind him.

"Woah," Bertie said, eyes wide. "Grandpa isveryangry. What’s his problem?"

"Something you don’t need to worry about, sweetheart."

"But I do worry, Daddy." She frowned, tilting her head up, her quizzical gaze on me. "You look sad. Grandpa just makes you cuss, so who’s making you sad? 'Cause I know it's not me."

My heart twisted.

I dropped to my knees and pulled her into a hug.

"Sometimes," I said, smoothing her hair, "your heart just feels too big for your chest. And when it gets too full, it aches. When that happens, you have to let some things go, and that can make you sad."

She blinked up at me, absorbing every word like gospel.

"You fill my heart, Daddy," she whispered fiercely, "and I’ll never let you go."

I closed my eyes, pressing a kiss to her hair. "You're my heart, too, Munchkin. Always."

And just like that, she tapped my butt and said, "Okay, good. Can I watch TV now?"

Chuckling, I handed her the remote. "Go on. Howard Keel’s waiting."

She flopped onto the couch with a grin.

"Cookies and milk after bathtime?" she asked sweetly.

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