Page 73 of Every Single Wildflower
Chuckling I walk over and open her car door. “Love you, Mads.”
“Love you.” I slam the door and head to the cabin.
I’m walking up the front steps when I spot it. Right there on the doormat.A wildflower.
Chapter fifty-four
Ivy
Three hours. I had been sitting at the police station with my mom and Cooper for three hours, waiting on my father to leave the interrogation room. Cooper finally had enough and got Jefferson to go back and check on him. My father’s tired figure comes strolling down the hall with Chief Bernard behind him, a smug smile on his face. It was clear who’s side he was on.
“We’ll keep in touch,” he says as my father storms toward us.
We scatter to our vehicles in silence until we arrive at Penelope’s. As soon as we get into the room, my father picks up the first thing he sees and fires it against the wall, shattering the glass flower vase.
We sit stunned, as his chest heaves. “I should have known better than to voice my concern. To tell them who I think sabotaged my ranch.”
We all know who he means, and the fact his brother was all smiles tells me he’s absolutely right.
“What did they say, dad?” Cooper asks.
My father drops down into the recliner with defeat. “They asked questions about what I saw. Where I was. Who could have access to the property. Of course I told them Bernard has the most to gain, in which that was ignored.” He shakes his head. “That’s when the gaslighting started. When thechiefstepped in. He brought up the taxes and somehow had inside information on the ranch. How deep we are in dept.”
“Shit,” Cooper hisses.
“They accused you?” I gasp. “For insurance fraud?”
“Basically. Stated I could have burned it for the insurance money, which I can’t even claim because it’s been ruled an arson.”
“So long story short, they aren’t going to do shit, and we can’t file a claim.” Cooper stands, pacing the living room. “Regardless of if you set the fire or not, since we didn’t file a claim, there is no crime.”
“I didn’t burn down my home," my dad grits out. “And now, we’re going to lose it.”
“We won’t lose it, dad. We’ll figure it out.” I tell him, reaching for his hand.
He drops his head back on the cushion of the recliner. “I’m not sure there’s a way to come back from this,” he admits quietly. "And I can't." He closes his eyes. "I can't sell it."
I glance over to see my mother’s determined gaze.
“There’s always a way,” she states.
It was almost sundown by the time me and Cooper got back to the ranch. I was nervous, but something told me it was time to face Maddox. With every foot I planted on the front porch, the more nauseated I got. What if he wanted to end it? What if the damage was already done? With a deep breath I twist the handle,entering the quiet cabin. I freeze when I see Maddox sitting on the couch in the dim light. His forearms braced on his knees.
I close the door behind me, before walking slowly around the couch and over to him. I hesitate before he pats the spot next to him. I lower myself down, my eyes landing on a tin box he has perched on the coffee table.
“I missed you,” he confesses, staring at the box.
I reach over, sliding my hand into his large one. “I missed you too.”
Sitting by the box is the flower I had left for him this morning. It's an Indian Paintbrush.
“I missed you every day after you left,” he says, his free hand moving toward the box. “Even though I was the one who pushed you away, I always kept a part of you with me.”
He uses his callused fingers to flip open the lid to the box. My breath catches in my throat when he reveals the contents.
“You kept them?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
He lifts his head and meets my eyes. “Every single one.”
