should have been horsewhipped.
“He says in his letter he has two sons. Do they know about their bastard half-sister?”
“There’s no need for such language, Miss Sarov.”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s what the good people of this town called me all my life. While my father and his wife and his two sons lived on their horse farm all nice and cozy, my mother had to put up with women calling her a whore and men trying to use her like one. Do you know how hard it is for a newcomer in this town, Mr. Hornblower? Do you? Not only was my mother sixteen and pregnant, she was a gypsy. People would spit at her on the street. When I went to school, mothers wouldn’t let their children play with me because I was gypsy trash. Anytime something went missing in the classroom, I always got blamed because it was in my gypsy blood to be a thief.”
She was vibrating with the force of her anger. Her fists were clenched so hard, her nails dug into the palms of her hands. She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something, do anything to release the tidal wave of fury burning inside her.
“I can’t say I know your pain, because obviously I couldn’t. I do understand your anger. If you want to hear the details of the will another time, I respect that.”
The will. She’d forgotten dear old Daddy had left her a little pittance. She wanted to take that and burn it too. “No, let’s get it over with now.” The sooner she was done with Hornblower, the better. She never wanted to come back here again.
“I’ll spare you the legalese. The gist of it is he left you the cabin and forty acres surrounding it as well as any rents collected on the property minus taxes and fees.”
The cabin was hers? And the place by the creek? “Does his family know about this yet?” was all she could think to ask.
“No. The property has been in a trust since you were born. After you and your mama moved out, Woody rented it out to hunters and the like. The trust has been collecting interest for twelve years. There’s a nice little nest egg for you now.”
“Is that supposed to make up for a childhood in poverty? Does that bring my mother back?” she bit out. She had to leave. If she stayed in this room another minute, she’d explode. “I’ll get back to you about the details, Mr. Hornblower. Good day.” She grabbed her purse and fled.
“Miss Sarov! Wait!” he called after her.
Heads turned, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get away as fast as she could. She ran towards her car and smacked into a solid wall of muscle and soft cotton.
“Whoa, slow down there, killer, you’ll break an ankle running in those shoes.” J.T. held her upright when she would have fallen backwards. He took one look at her face, glanced at the door she’d come out of and took action. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Before she could protest, he swooped her up into the cab of his truck, which was parked right next to her car, and backed out of the parking spot. He didn’t try to speak to her, just held her hand and drove like a bat out of hell. Nadya didn’t mind his driving. The faster they went, the more distance she’d have between herself and Hornblower. Unfortunately, he couldn’t drive fast enough to keep the anger from rolling over her or the thoughts spinning through her brain.
He pulled in front of the cabin before she processed where she was.
“Come on, I’ll get you some tea, or a beer, or whiskey. Whatever you want.”
“I want to go to the creek. To my spot.”
“Dressed like that?”
“I don’t give a shit. I need…I just need to go.” She opened the truck door and jumped out. Her heels sank into the soft dirt, and sweat immediately dampened her blouse.
“Hold on a second! At least take a stick!” he called after her.
She ignored him and plowed through the bushes. Branches scratched her arms and pulled at her clothes, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was moving. If she just kept moving she wouldn’t have to think about anything.
Something scurried in the leaves and the birds cawed raucously overhead. The familiar sound of trickling water broke through the storm cloud of anger surrounding her as she hurried along the