“Mom and Dad set the bar pretty high. And Hunter. He’s going to reach that bar, and then some. Archer’s a genius, really taking the whole refuge thing to the next level. I mean, we’re getting eleven abused horses—that’s a lot. But he’ll figure it out.” He shook his head. “Now, Ryder’s still more interested in cars and petite blondes than anything else, but he works hard when we need him.”
“How’s Renata?” Josie had always felt for Renata, Fisher’s twin sister. She couldn’t imagine having four brothers and Teddy Boone for a father.
“Renata’s working for the chamber of commerce. Does their PR and events and stuff.”
“Sounds like the Boones still own Stonewall Crossing.”
“Can’t help it if our people were competitive from the start. We don’t own it, exactly.”
“No? Just most of it?” She argued, “If I remember the little tour I took when I first moved in with dad, they said the town was named Stonewall Crossing because your great-grandfather put up stone walls to line his property.”
“Great-great-grandfather. Man is a territorial animal, Josie. Those walls are a surefire way to let people know where not to trespass.” Fisher shrugged.
“How is your father?” She’d missed him. Teddy Boone was a great barrel-chested man who let everyone know when he entered a room.
“Fine. He lives in the Lodge. He still misses Mom a lot. Think leading guests to check out the flowers when the hills are blooming, or hike, or bird-watch keeps him busy. In the hotter months, he’s with the aunts in Montana. He’s here now, so stop by and say hi. He’d love that.”
She nodded. “He must be so proud of everything you have accomplished.”
“Hunter started it, getting all successful. We couldn’t let him show us up, you know?” He swiped another gingerbread cookie. “That Boone competitive streak. You know Hunter. Hell, I think you know Hunter best of all.” His expression turned serious—as serious as Fisher ever got.
“No, not really.”
“Aw, come on, Josie. That’s not true—”
“Years ago, maybe.” She put the sample plate behind the counter and began to wipe down the counter. “Why does everyone keep talking about the past?”
“What’s got you so worked up?”
She shut the display case with a little more force than necessary. “Nothing.”
“Right.”
“Moving on.” She shot him a look. “You dating anyone?”
He winked at her. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think that would go over too well with my brother.”
She hadn’t meant to yell, but she did. “Why the hell would Hunter care if I dated anyone? He’s married, remember?”
If she hadn’t been yelling, she might have heard the bell over the door jingle. But she didn’t. So Eli’s angry words took her by complete surprise. “My mom divorced my dad when I was three.”
Josie couldn’t think. Or speak. Or breathe. The agony on Eli’s face was unbearable. “I...I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Eli,” she finally managed.
“You should be,” Eli bit out. “It’s your fault she left.”
“Eli,” Fisher cut in.
Josie was reeling. “Eli, I...” She had no words. She knew nothing she said could make a difference.
Dara placed a hand on Eli’s arm. “Walk me home?” Eli didn’t look up as Dara led him from the bakery.
Her heart ached for him, truly ached for him. She knew how hard it was, growing up without a mother. If she’d been the cause of that... No, surely not. Hunter was a man of his word. He’d married Amy—he wouldn’t have let it fall apart without a fight.
“What is all the yelling about?” Her father hobbled into the kitchen through the door that connected their home to the bakery. “I could hear you all the way in my room.”
Josie watched Eli and Dara walk away. She saw the slump to Eli’s shoulders, knew the anger and pain in his voice.
“How the hell did you not know he’s single?” Fisher asked, stunned.