Page 112 of Paper Horses

Intimidating was the word people used to describe my mother. And as she walked around the desk, her heels added to her five-eleven stature, so she stood almost eye level with me. But while my mother was hard and refined in the business world, demanding and feared, she was nothing like Olivia’s father.

“Hudson.” She gave me a smile as she stood before me, her eyes sweeping over me right before her arms embraced me.

As stubborn and expectant as she was, I had morphed our reunion into something loud and argumentative, keeping my distance since the day she’d cut my inheritance off and kicked me out of her office. Time had given me insight into her disappointment and her reasons, but never the strength to pick up the phone and call her, to make amends, even with Parker telling me to.

“Hi, Mom.” I returned her hug, inhaling the mint and vanilla scent from my childhood. Even if my plan regarding Olivia didn’t work out,, her return had been the impetus for this moment, one that might never have come if she hadn’t opened my eyes to how miserable I’d been by closing myself off for so long.

“Let me look at you.” She pushed me back and walked around me, ruffling my hair as she did. Perhaps the time apart had softened her some because she seemed more relaxed than I’d ever remembered. Or maybe it was age.

Leaning on her desk, she said, “I should have known with how stubborn you are that you’d avoid me. Of course, twelve years is a long punishment.”

“You disinherited me and kicked me out of your office. It wasn’t a heartwarming memory,” I grumbled.

She waved her hand, dismissing the words. “I was angry with you for throwing your future away. An opportunity that most people would kill for.”

“An opportunity I didn’t want.” And here we went. This was why I hadn’t called her. “This is Parker’s thing. It always has been, and you tried to stuff me into that same box.”

With a sigh, she uncrossed her arms and gestured for me to sit. I remained where I was, hesitant to get too comfortable.

“You had potential.”

“But not the drive, and you knew that.”

Head tilting, her blue eyes observed me, softening some before she said, “I did. You were always different from your brother. Your mind on the farm with those damn horses you loved so much.”

I held my breath, waiting for the lecture on how I’d disappointed her.

“If I’d known this rift would form between us, I wouldn’t have forced your hand, but I thought you would come back.”

“I told you I was leaving for good.”

“I know. But this is your home, and what did you have out there? No girlfriend, that Icinda girl ruined that for you, no family, no money.”

I cringed at the mention of Olivia, remembering how even years after she’d left, I was still a walking wound.

“I didn’t disinherit you,” she said with a nonchalance that didn’t match the confession. “I was angry, and the words came out, but I never would have.”

I squeezed my hands, balancing myself as her confession nearly knocked me off my feet.

“But I meant what I said about the money. That was all I’ll give, so if that’s why you’re here, Hudson, turn back around and leave.”

There was the shrewd businesswoman who held her own in a world where men dominated until she toppled them.

“I’m not here for money. I have a proposition.”

Her brow arched, and she crossed her arms, waiting to hear my words. I ached to run my fingers over the brim of my hat, to roll it through them and have an outlet for my nervous energy, but there was none, and showing any weakness like putting my hands in my pockets would throw doubt in my mother’s mind that I was serious. My future with Olivia was on the line, so I couldn’t afford for that to happen.

Instead, I cleared my throat and said the words I’d dreaded for every mile the plane had crossed to get me to this point.

Chapter 27

Liv

Three weeks had never seemed so long. I really didn’t know how I’d gone fifteen years when three weeks were akin to having the cords of my heart stretched over the miles that separated me from Hudson. I’d taken the time to learn about myself. To dig under the façade I wore and find the person below. And what I’d found was that I liked her more than the woman who did things others expected her to, who acted like she didn’t care, who remained aloof and vain to keep people from seeing that beneath it all she was lonely and scared of being hurt again.

There were parts of my life here that I still loved. The shopping, the city lights, the pace. My morning coffee and afternoon salad, room service, and of course my regular manicures. But there were others I discovered I had never really liked—the noise, the invisibility, the loneliness. The coldness. I missed the diner, the shops where the owners knew my name not because they might lose my sale and they wanted my money, but because they cared. I missed the open land, the mountains, the fresh air, and the horses. But most of all, I missed the man who made me feel alive.

It was his voice in the back of my head that had me turning Paula, our secretary, down on her offer to order me lunch on my first day back. That drove me to leave the building and get it myself. To eat at a restaurant with only my phone and a book. To embrace the solitude that I’d run from with wine and the noise of the city. To cook a meal for the first time ever in my suite…one I burned so badly my place stunk for days, but one I had cooked by myself.