“Mother had some things to say about her niece that she objected to, and she resigned.”
The old man’s gaze shifts to my mother. “Sylvia, you have an apology to deliver. Feel free to put it in writing if you can’t manage to keep a civil tongue around the Gables.”
My mother’s mouth drops open, and I can’t hide my shock at his declaration either.
“Over my dead body,” she snaps.
Commodore smiles, but there’s no kindness in it. “Since you failed to die once today, I think that’s highly unlikely.” His gaze sharpens. “As soon as you start interfering with business, you start interfering with me. We both know how that battle will turn out, don’t we?”
The old man is savage with her, and while I respect my mother, she does need to be reined in. It’s my only chance of repairing the situation I promised to fix.
Commodore maneuvers his chair to face me. “If your mother wants an allowance for next month, she’ll deliver the apology in your presence or in writing. If in person, it will not be delivered publicly. Am I understood?”
Mother fumes in silence.
“Anything else, sir?” My question is more of a formality, but Commodore rolls closer to me.
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” He stops in front of me and lowers his voice so only I can hear him. “You know what my expectations are. Think very carefully about how you proceed with that Gable girl.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before spinning around and exiting the room, leaving us all staring after him and no doubt cursing his name.
42
Whitney
The past
Commodore Riscoff scaredthe ever-loving hell out of me, and not just because he was looming over me in the dark. I’d never seen him this close up before, and I’d never wanted to.
His face was lined with wrinkles as he peered down at me. Water beaded off his rain jacket. “I don’t want to know what you’re doing here, do I, Ms. Gable?”
I didn’t know why I wasn’t surprised he knew who I was. Commodore Riscoff was akin to the Great and Powerful Oz in this town. He knew everything, and no one questioned him.
I answered as honestly as I could. After all, what more did I have to lose when it came to this family? They’d already taken the farm. And I’d left most of the shreds of my pride on the floor of the cabin where Lincoln essentially called me a whore.
“No, sir. But I suspect you’ll find out all the same.”
His attention lowered to my bare feet. I’d dropped my shoes somewhere in the woods when I fell, and I wasn’t digging for them right now. They could serve as a grave marker for the death of whatever Lincoln and I had thought we had together.
“Do you need a ride home?”
His question surprised me, and even though I wanted to deny it, I told the truth.
“Yes, sir. I would appreciate a ride. It’s a long walk in the rain.”
His gaze shifted toward the cabin, lights ablaze, and at the long driveway. His lips pressed together as he looked back at me and held out a hand.
“Come on.”
I reached out with my uninjured wrist, and he helped me to my feet. Shock numbed the pain of what had happened in the cabin as the Riscoff patriarch helped me into his SUV. Hell must have frozen over. He shut me in the car, and I shivered on the leather seat despite the warm summer night.
Commodore climbed into the driver’s seat and looked at me. “Your dad bought a place on the other side of the tracks, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
He backed the SUV onto the road and shifted into drive, heading in the direction that would take us to my parents’ house. For the first few minutes, we were both silent, but then he finally spoke.
“You know, Ms. Gable—”