“Oh, you’re Anna?” Brittany flicked her gaze to Matthew. “Is this the Anna? The girl with the awesome mountain story you sent to Dana?”
Anna froze, her heart scraping against her ribs. He what? He sent my manuscript—
Matthew’s frown grew deeper. “How did you know about that?”
“I’m meeting with Dana next week too. We were chatting, and she said she’d talked to you recently.” She looked at Anna and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “She said your first chapters are promising. I’m impressed. It takes a lot to make Dana sit up and take notice.”
Anna stared at Matthew, confusion swirling in her mind. Dana? Promising? What does—wait, he did send it. Without my permission. “You sent my chapters to that agent already? I asked you if you thought they were ready.”
Matthew’s eyes widened with surprise. “You said you wanted to take me up on my offer—”
“Once my chapters were ready.” Anna tightened her grip on Monty’s collar, every fear from the last few months washing over her. She had practically lost her shot with The Wicked Moon, and now she may as well scrap this story too. She hadn’t been sure if it was ready, she’d wanted more suggestions first. And now, if Brittany is just blowing steam and this agent doesn’t like it—well, how are two rejections going to look on my resumé? I’m done. My mom was right.
“Anna, I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood your email. I thought you asked me to send it. And honestly, it’s good—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Anna started toward her car, tugging Monty along with her. “Look, I better take off and let you two catch up.”
Brittany turned on her heel, watching Anna stride away. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Anna. Good luck with your book.”
“Anna, wait.” Matthew started after her, but Anna loaded Monty into the back seat, then opened the driver’s side door.
“I’ll see you Monday, Matthew,” she said, avoiding his gaze. She dipped her head at his ex-girlfriend. Or is it not-so-ex? Just like Jace. And I thought Matthew was different! She choked back a sob. “Nice to meet you, Brittany.”
Before Matthew could protest again, she slid into her seat, closed the door, and put on her seatbelt. Without looking back, she started the car and reversed onto the driveway.
Monty gave a soft whimper from the back seat as they bounced down the gravel. Anna let out the angry sob she’d been holding. My career is in tatters. Mom’s riding my back about a job and moving home. I almost fell for another jerk guy. She gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers. When am I going to catch a break?
Chapter Seventeen
Matthew closed the gate to the chicken run, testing the new latch he’d installed. It clicked shut securely, and he rattled the wire to make sure it would hold. Satisfied, he tucked his screwdriver into his back pocket.
His boots crunched over the frost-covered grass as he made his way to the chicken coop, and his breath puffed in the crisp mid-morning air. He opened the man-sized door on the building, letting the warm air wash over him, and poked his head inside. The chickens stared at him from their roosts, making soft clucking noises.
“Good morning, ladies. I’m sorry I kept you literally cooped up in here all day yesterday. That darn dog destroyed your gate.” He lowered his voice. “But don’t worry, that nasty scoundrel is gone, and I fixed up your run. I can let you out now.”
The closest hen ruffled her feathers and cocked her head, as if she understood.
Is this what it’s come to? Talking to chickens? I need a real job, stat. He stepped into the coop and went to the chicken door at the front, unlatched it, and swung it open. With a squawk, what must have been the leader of the flock hopped off her roost and ran outside. Matthew took a step back, and the other hens followed her.
He left the coop and closed the man-door behind him, then leaned his shoulder against the side of the structure to watch the hens rustle through the long grass inside of the fenced-in run. The way they bobbed their heads and scratched at the ground had always amused him, even as a kid. If he remembered the flock his grandfather had years ago correctly, these girls would have their run cleared of grass in a matter of days. That was their job—to eat, scratch, lay in the sun, and let nature take its course.
If only life were so easy. He sighed, his mind reeling with thoughts of Anna and their disastrous date the night before last. They’d been having such a great time, even with Monty’s attempt at mass chicken murder. Cooking dinner, laughing over coffee, hanging out and getting to know each other more—it had all felt so natural. With no pressure to go anywhere or prove anything to anybody, he’d never been so content with someone before. Why did Brittany have to show up and ruin everything?
Of course, Anna hadn’t answered his call yesterday. And why would she? His ex-girlfriend had shown up at his house, and had obviously made a big effort to do so. It wasn’t like she lived down the road, she’d flown all the way out from Toronto. Anna had every right to be suspicious.
But her anger about him sending her chapters to Dana—he had reread her email, and it was clear to him that there had been a miscommunication. She’d stated she wanted to take him up on his offer to send it, but after reading further, he could see now that she’d wanted some reassurance first. It was a boneheaded move on his part, but if he could talk to her and explain, she’d surely understand. Right?
Besides, her chapters were great. She was talented and had a solid hook that any agent searching for inspirational stories would eat up. He’d thought she’d be grateful for the recommendation. His first reaction to her harsh words had been to defend himself, but in all the emotional chaos he hadn’t been able to get a word in before she stormed off. But maybe the time to cool off was a good thing. He’d certainly had time to think yesterday, mulling over how to piece what happened together.
Insensitive . . . that’s what Brittany had called him when she broke things off. He swallowed the lump in his throat. It was true, he hadn’t always given much thought to her side of things. And now, was he doing the same thing to Anna, expecting her to be grateful instead of trying to see her view of the situation?
She’s raw and worried after what happened with Raven Stone. I broke her trust.
Matthew uncrossed his arms and let out a groan. He watched the hens bopping merrily around the run. “Ladies, what do I do now? What kind of featherly advice do you have for me?”
A woman’s laughter met his ears, and he looked in the direction of the house. Marshal and Sophie walked through the yard toward him, their arms entwined. Sophie practically bounced with every step, excitement lacing her voice.
“Chickens, Marsh? This was the last thing I expected!”
Matthew straightened and met them at the gate. “Hey, you two are home early. Have a nice getaway?”
“We did! It was perfect. This guy,” Sophie squeezed Marshal’s forearm, “even relaxed and didn’t talk about work for a second.”
“A fireplace and an ice-cold glass of dark ale will do that,” Marshal said. He gave her a silly smile. “And of course, sharing it all with you.”
Matthew raised his brows, fighting back a laugh. He’d never seen his brother so smitten. At least, not since they were teens, when he’d first fallen for Sophie. But at that time, she’d had no idea.
Sophie blushed. “This morning Marshal broke down and told me he had a surprise for me here. So, I wanted to hit the road right away to find out.” She tossed her copper waves over her shoulder, then approached the wire fence and peered at the hens inside. “Just look at them. They’re so sweet!”
Matthew flipped the new latch on the gate and opened it.
Marshal’s gaze fell on the shiny new metal. “What happened here?”
Matthew shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin, then stepped out of the run. “Just an incident with a dog. Not a big deal. The birds are fine, and I fixed the gate. Nothing’s getting in here now.”
Sophie, only half-listening, rushed inside the enclos
ure to check out the birds. “Oh, poor girls! I hope they weren’t too stressed.”
Matthew closed the gate behind her. “They seem pretty settled now. I think I saw a few eggs in their nesting boxes, if you want to go look.”
Sophie let out an excited squeal, then went into the coop in search of eggs.
“A dog?” Marshal asked. “Whose dog? Did the Wolskys’ German shepherd come over here? I should call Greg and let him know about the chickens.”
“No, it didn’t belong to any neighbours,” Matthew replied. “It was Monty, Anna’s dog.”
“And why was Anna’s dog here?”
“Because Anna came over for supper on Friday.”
Marshal lifted the brim of his ball cap and rubbed his forehead. “Are you two dating? Look, I don’t mean to pry. But if she’s going to be around, I’d like to know. We can add some extra reinforcements to make sure this run is predator proof.”
“I don’t know. I messed up, and I don’t know how to fix it.” For the umpteenth time, Matthew remembered the hurt look on Anna’s face when she got in her car to leave on Friday, and the ball in his chest grew even tighter. “Brittany showed up while Anna was here.”
Marshal let out a low whistle and shook his head. “That is bad.”
“Yeah,” Matthew replied dryly. “To say the least.”
“She flew all the way out here? Why? To get back together?”
Matthew scrubbed his face with his palm. “No, she has a new job in Vancouver for a publishing company. They need a line editor.”
“You didn’t sign on, did you?”
Matthew shook his head. “Nope. As much as I want a job close by, one thing was made clear last night—I cannot work with her again. I don’t even want to try.”
“That’s good. You shouldn’t.” Marshal paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, if you talk to Anna—”
“And say what?”
“I dunno, telling her you didn’t invite your ex-girlfriend to crash your date would probably help.”
Matthew pushed back his ballcap and rubbed his temple. “I tried to call her yesterday, but she didn’t answer.”
“Did you forget where she lives? Or works?”
“I don’t want to force her to talk to me if she isn’t ready.”
Marshal let out a sigh, then crossed his arms. “Okay, you’re probably right to give her some space if she isn’t ready. But a word of advice—if you really like her, you owe her that explanation once things have cooled down. No matter if you end up together or not, don’t leave her thinking you betrayed her.” He glanced toward the coop, and his face softened. “And you owe it yourself to make things right with her too. Don’t let your stubborn pride get in the way of a good thing.”
Matthew’s throat thickened. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Marshal had a point. It surprised him how much he hated the fact that he’d hurt Anna. Again. He had to talk to her. Even if she didn’t want to pursue a relationship with him, he couldn’t leave her bruised over what had happened.
And maybe she’ll forgive me. Maybe we can try again.
The coop door banged open, and Sophie stepped out with her hands cupped together, holding several eggs. “Look, Marsh! They’re already laying. These are going to be so great for the inn!”
That silly smile returned to Marshal’s face. “We’ll need a few more hens to keep the inn stocked up on eggs, but I thought six would be a good start for now.”
“It’s perfect, Marshal. I can’t believe you did this for me.” She gazed at Marshal, practically batting her lashes as if he were Prince Charming.
Marshal clapped his hand on Matthew’s shoulder, then popped the gate latch. “Just talk to her, Mattie.” He stepped into the chicken run, and Sophie held out her hands to show him the eggs.
Matthew thought about Marshal’s advice, wondering if simply talking to her would really be enough. They had started out with zero trust, and he’d allowed the shaky foundation they had built to crack all over again. Why didn’t I ask her to stay and tell Brittany to leave immediately? He’d been so shocked at his ex’s arrival that he hadn’t been able to get the words out.
And because of that, he was about to lose the only woman who’d ever truly liked him for who he was. The one woman who made this town feel like home.
Vanessa’s curt tone carried across Anna’s apartment, coming from the phone on the coffee table. “I thought you’d be grateful for this opportunity, Anna. It’s a full-time job, with benefits and room to grow within the company. You can live with me again and save money to get your own place.” She paused. “I’m only trying to help you get on your feet.”
Anna let out a frustrated sigh as she buttoned the top to her work tunic. Monty sat at the door, watching her and ready to go. “I know, Mom. I appreciate that you care. But can we talk about this later? I’m trying to get ready for work. It’s Sunday, Sophie’s night off—”
“And you need to help serve the soup and sandwiches,” her mother said. “Yes, I know. I remember you telling me about the casual Sunday nights at the inn before.”
“Right. And since it’s only Tad and I working, I really can’t be late.”
“I need an answer tonight. If you don’t accept the interview by tomorrow, the HR consultant will assume you’re not interested and move on to another applicant.”
“Well, consider me not interested, then.” Anna strode into her kitchen area and sifted through the junk basket on the counter, pushing aside note pads, pens, a rubber bracelet . . . “I don’t care if the interview the responsible choice. I’m okay for now. I want to make things work out here.”
Anna’s breath caught. Did I just say that? To my mother?
“Excuse me?” Vanessa’s voice hitched. “Why? Is it that editor fellow your sister told me about?”
Anna winced. “Kelsey told you about him?”
“In a round-about way, yes.”
That traitor.
Her mom continued, “She told me you were doing well out there and had even made some friends. Including him. She told me not to push you. But if I don’t, then who else will?”
Guilt pinched Anna’s chest. Okay, not a traitor. But still. “I don’t need to be pushed. I’m overwhelmed enough as it is. But I’m happier here than in Calgary. It’s quiet, there’s less hustle and bustle, it’s better for my creativity. And I have made friends here—”
“Such as this editor. This man.”
I’m not getting into this with her. She’d been hiding from her feelings since she woke Saturday morning, determined not to let Matthew and his betrayal get to her. She dove into The Wicked Moon, spending hours tearing apart the plotline and character arcs. She rewrote the entire first section, and after going over it a dozen or more times, she sent it to Clarissa that morning.
And as soon as she let her focus drift from her book, thoughts of Friday night came crashing into her like a wave slamming into a cliff face. Her heart cracked again, the image of Brittany strutting toward them fresh in her mind.
I thought he was different. I’d almost fallen for his act. But he’s no different than Jace, reeling me along while pining for his ex-girlfriend behind my back. She shook her head. She was done being somebody’s back-up plan. And her manuscript—the one she hadn’t even named yet. He’d sent it off to some agent without warning. Why would he do that? What’s in it for him? A job referral maybe. Or a percentage of the commission if she bites. Who knows? Who cares.
She blinked back tears, thinking of the night she’d kissed him. It had felt so natural. So right. What had happened? How could my heart lead me astray again?
“Anna? Are you still there?”
She ground her teeth and found one of her hairnets in the basket, then shoved it in the front pocket of her tunic. “Yes, Mom. I’m still here. And no, I don’t have a thing going on with any man. Not anymore.”
Her mom’s voice softened. “Oh, dear. Did something happen?”
Anna’s throat thickened, and
she made her way to the couch and plopped down on it. “It’s okay, Mom. Nothing ever really started anyways. He’s definitely not why I want to stay here.”
Monty padded to the couch and rested his head on her knees. She rubbed his ears, thankful for his comfort.
Vanessa cleared her throat. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that the Simone women are cursed with men. We only attract the bad ones. Your grandmother. Your aunt Miranda. Me.” She paused. “I was afraid I’d pass it down to you girls too.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as curses, Mom.”
She’d never known her father. He’d left shortly after she was born and wanted nothing to do with her or her sister. So, it wasn’t like she ever missed him. But she couldn’t imagine how hard it had been for her mom to raise two children on her own. Her single motherhood had always been the driving force behind Vanessa’s quest for success—to set up a good life for her girls, without the support of a second parent.
“Well, whatever it is, Simone women have terrible luck with men. It’s best to focus on looking after yourself.”
“Mom—”
“Let me know tonight about the interview, so we can get a video call arranged for this week. Honey, I urge you to rethink this.” She hesitated. “I know you want to be an author so badly, but you’ve said it yourself. It’s a tough industry to make a living in. I want you to be financially secure. You’re not the only writer struggling to make it.”
Anna pressed her fingers to her temple, and Monty scrambled onto the couch and lay next to her. She rested her hand on his back. “Mom, I gotta go. I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”
“Okay.” Vanessa’s voice grew lighter. “You know, it’s snowing here. You’ve always loved the first few snowfalls of the year.”
Anna’s lips twitched. The early winter snowfalls in Alberta were the one thing she had been missing this year—the wonder of waking up to the dull, brown world transformed into a magical winter wonderland.
Novel Dreams Page 13