Open Your Heart (Kings Grove #4) - Delancey Stewart Page 0,21

why, but having Dean express his interest made me feel territorial. And that was ridiculous. I had no claims on my tenant beyond her rent money.

I parked and took my time getting out of the truck. Harper’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and I forced myself to focus on other things. Where she was and what she did were none of my business.

I was just making my way up the stairs to my front door when a mournful howl came from the hill on the other side of the small creek that ran below my property. I froze, listening. It wasn’t the same sound we’d heard before—the terrorizing yowl of what I was sure was a mountain lion. This was different—an animal in some kind of pain, maybe? Almost a cry for help. I shivered, listening for it to repeat, but the wilderness across the creek had taken on an almost unnatural silence in the wake of that sad cry.

The low hum of an engine replaced the stillness, and I ducked inside just as Harper’s car pulled up the drive.

Chapter 6

HARPER

Cam’s car was in the driveway when I pulled back in, and I wasn’t sure why it gave me such comfort to know he was home. It wasn’t as if I knew him well, or knew much about him, really.

After I’d had lunch with my father, I’d gone back to the hotel to read through all the information Mike had given me and filled out all of my benefits paperwork. I wanted to hit the ground running the next week. Also, I didn’t want to come back to this big silent house and think about anything too deep.

Like the sadness in my father’s eyes when I gave him one word answers to his questions. Or the pain in his voice when he finally said, “Harper. There was a lot more to what happened between your mom and me than you know about.”

That had made me mad. “Tell me, then,” I’d suggested, and the desire to do so had been clear on his face. His mouth had worked in silence, as if he was about to let out the words that would explain to me why he hadn’t visited me, why I’d been sent away when he was the parent who’d once clearly loved me most.

“I told myself a long time ago I’d never be the kind of parent who’d poison you against the other,” he said, his shoulders drooping as his bright eyes searched mine. “Your mother isn’t a bad person.”

“I know that,” I’d snapped. “It’s not her I’m trying to understand. I spent my whole life seeing that she’s not a bad person. It’s you I’m not so sure about.”

He nodded, and the anger inside me spun up. I wanted him to explain. I needed him to tell me why things had been the way they were. Instead, he took every hurtful word I flung at him like a pincushion, and just absorbed it. “It’s good to see you again,” he said after a long silence.

Fury flooded me. Why was I here? Why had he made me come back here, if not to explain? “Are you ever going to give me answers about what happened? Or are you thinking we’re going to just start from here?” I finally asked him. “What was your plan once you got me up here, Dad?”

He stared at me for a long minute across the table, his silver eyebrows lowering as he thought. He looked so much like the man I’d worshipped as a kid—his hair more grey, his face more drawn—but my hero was still in there, and I had to fight with the memories I had of him to remember all the years that had come since. He wasn’t my hero. He’d sent me away. “I don’t really have a plan, Harp. I just wanted a chance. To know you.”

“You had a chance,” I whispered. “You had years of chances. You stayed away.”

He dropped his eyes then, and I saw pain flash across his face. I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me, and I waited for him to speak. But after a few minutes, he seemed to get control of his emotions again, and he just raised his eyes and smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here. Maybe we’ll find our way.”

I’d huffed and eaten the rest of my meal in silence. I might have spent years shoveling money at the best yoga teachers in New York City, but Dad had