she tells me. She peeks over to see if Felix is listening. “I don’t think Auntie Dair is a no-word.”
“Me either,” I agree. I realize now that every reason I had before to hate Malcolm MacLaine was immature, at best, and shallow, at worst. I know because the hate I feel now is pure, molten. It comes from some primitive, previously untapped source. The same force fueling my desire to pick up Ellie and take her away from Windfall forever.
Felix places a plate of cookies in front of us followed by two glasses of milk.
“Thank you,” Ellie chirps, instantly cheered up. She picks up a cookie as big as her tiny hand, but instead of eating it she holds it out to me. “For you.”
“Thank you.” I take it, unsure how I’ll manage to swallow a single bite with the lump in my throat.
Felix takes off his apron and folds it up. “I need to check on some matters upstairs,” he says, placing it on the counter. “There’s more milk in the fridge. Ellie come and find me when you’re finished with your snack. Mr. Ford, help yourself to the cookies.”
He waits until I nod. His message is clear: he’s trusting me. I have no idea why. I don’t owe the MacLaines anything, especially not my daughter.
I could walk out of here with her. How far could I get before they realize she’s gone? Will he be the one to sound the alarm? Will he wait for one of her parents to look for her? I have a sinking suspicion that I could be out of Tennessee before anyone else notices. I look at the door. All I have to do is walk through it. Instinct will take me from there.
Next to me, Ellie’s head swivels to follow mine. “Do you have to go?”
“Not yet.” The longer I take to decide, the less time I have on the road.
“Are you going to Auntie Dair? Will you take me to see her?” she asks in a small voice.
My eyes shutter as all my plans evaporate. I can’t leave. Not like this. It isn’t fair to either of them, and, in the end, it will only make what I need to do harder.
Felix understands that. It’s why he left me with her. I don’t have a choice but to leave her here and trust that everything will work out. It’s what Adair’s done for years. She’s no fool. If she hasn’t made a move, there’s something blocking her from doing so.
“I wish I could,” I say softly, reaching for another cookie—this time for my own heart’s sake. “I bet we can find a way for you to see her soon.”
“Really soon?” Ellie asks.
“It’s my first priority,” I say.
Ellie’s pink lips purse, her blue eyes narrowing like her mothers do when she’s tuning her bullshit meter. Finally, she sticks out her hand, pinky out. “Promise?”
I hook my own pinky through hers and shake. “I’m all in, kid. Promise.”
“What is going on here?” a shrill voice cuts in, and Ellie shrinks back. My memories flash to the night I met her. She made herself small then, when her parents reprimanded her for speaking to me.
Without thinking, I turn my body to shield her from the intruder as Ginny MacLaine bounds into the room, a basket of fresh flowers hanging from her arm. She stops and her glare transforms from fury to horror.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” she spits, brandishing a pair of gardening shears with her free hand. “You need to leave before I call the police.”
I take a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm, if only for one reason. Shifting to look at Ellie, I give her another cookie. “Go find Felix, kid.”
Her eyes—my eyes in her perfect face—dart between us finally landing on her mother. “We were just having cookies and he said I could see Auntie Dair and—”
“He did?” Ginny’s face matches her hair, and I know she’s about to blow. “Well, Miss Ellie, you better believe—”
“I’ll talk to your mom about it,” I cut in. It makes me sick to call Ginny her mother, especially with how she’s acting. “Better go find Felix.”
Ellie’s sense of self-preservation—one honed by years of living here, I have no doubt—kicks in and she swings her legs around. Before she can hop off, my hand shoots out to steady her.
“I’m much obliged,” she says, reaching up to the counter to grab her cookie before she scuttles off.