Claiming The Rancher's Heir (Gold Valley Vineyards #2) - Maisey Yates Page 0,45

gone to the winery itself, to the public areas, the tasting rooms. There had been weddings and dinners and other things since she and Creed had gotten married. But she hadn’t actually been in the house.

For some reason, she felt like she needed to do that today. And she felt like she needed to do it alone.

Nerves overtook her when she realized part of the reason she felt an urgency to visit was that she hadn’t actually been alone with her mother, Cricket and Emerson altogether since the wedding.

When Wren arrived at the house, her mother looked impeccable, but stone-faced, and Emerson looked as radiant as ever. Cricket was wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

“What are you doing, Cricket?” Wren asked.

“Oh, I’m not going,” Cricket said.

“Why aren’t you going?”

“Because I don’t want to,” she said defiantly.

“But it’s a family event.”

“No, it isn’t,” Cricket said. “It’s an event for the winery, and I don’t have to be there. There’s absolutely no reason for me to get dressed up and parade myself around. I’m not really part of anything that happens with the winery. It’s never been me.”

Wren was shocked, but she had to wonder if she would feel the same way had she been Cricket’s age when their family had fallen apart.

“I’m divorcing your father,” her mother said.

“What?” Wren asked.

“I’m divorcing him,” she said. “I haven’t seen him in months. What’s the point of staying married? What was the point of any of it?” Her mother, who was often so quiet, sad even, seemed...not herself.

“More and more I question the point of any of this. I have this beautiful house, but your father never loved me. I have you girls. The only good to have come out of my life in the last thirty years. Everything else is shallow. Pointless. I thought this winery mattered. This house. The money. It doesn’t.”

“And if it doesn’t matter to her,” Cricket said, “why should I pretend that it matters to me?”

“I’m all for bids of independence,” Wren said. “And I’m not going to say I haven’t been on a soul-searching mission myself these last few months. But save your breakdowns so they’re not right before my big event?”

“Sorry it’s not convenient for you,” Cricket said. “You getting married and abandoning me wasn’t great timing either.”

Wren had a feeling that was directed at both her and Emerson.

“Cricket,” Emerson said. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want. But if you’re upset, maybe we should talk.”

“We should talk now,” Cricket said. “Because this family is a mess, and Wren is just making the same mistakes Mom did. Marrying Creed because she’s having a baby, when they don’t even love each other. You can pretend all you want but I don’t believe you magically fell in love with him. It’s going to end like this. Big house, lots of money. Maybe a winery conglomerate. Sad adult children and divorce.”

“That’s enough,” her mother said. “I judge myself for the decisions I made for money. For comfort. For...for turning away from somebody who did love me for somebody who never could.” Wren stared at her mother for a moment, not fully understanding what she was talking about. “But the one thing that I’m at peace with is anything I did for the sake of you girls. Wren made a decision for the sake of her child’s future. And Creed Cooper isn’t your father.”

“No,” Wren said, her tone firm. “Creed is a good man. He loves this baby. So much. You have no idea.”

“Well, I don’t have to participate in any of this.”

Cricket turned and walked out of the room. Emerson put her hand on Wren’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She doesn’t know what it’s like.”

There was something in Emerson’s gaze that scared Wren, and she couldn’t pinpoint why.

Didn’t know what what was like? Relationships?

That she would believe. Her sister had led a cloistered life on the vineyard, and hadn’t gone away to school the way Wren and Emerson had. In many ways, it had felt like their parents had given up by the time they’d gotten to Cricket. For all that the expectations of their father had been hard on Emerson and Wren, Wren suspected there had been no expectations at all of Cricket.

And that the low bar hadn’t done her any favors.

But Wren didn’t think that’s what Emerson was talking about. And the alternative possibility made her stomach feel tight.

“Mom,” Wren said, turning to her mother, deciding to reject any