Read Online Broken Creek (The Creek #1) by Abbie St. Claire - Free Book Online

Probably because of the stress with my mother. I almost blurted it out to her.”
    His head leaned toward the floor, and he raised only his eyes to me. “He beat you because he found out you’d slept with me. He called you the worst names ever, and I’d killed him myself if someone else hadn’t. And then I hurt you and…”
    I ran to his side of the counter and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist. “There’s a difference. He intended torture; you didn’t. What you did, when you pulled me away from Jacob and I fell over a chair, wasn’t intentional. You didn’t mean to hurt me, Stephan. I told you I’ve forgiven you. It. Was. An. Accident.”
    He held me tightly and threaded his fingers through my hair. With my ear against his chest, I heard the beating of his heart. Life, passion, love lived there. He was my savior. He was my friend.

    We ate and talked about the deer in the canyon and his plans for adding a few more guys to his fishing guide business. As a professional fisherman, he traveled a good bit, and it would help to have some more fishermen to offer services, while he was away at a tournament. He taught me to fish with something other than a cane pole, and the first large bass I’d caught was mounted on a plaque in his small office in town.
    It was afternoon before I realized I’d left my purse in my car. When I finally found the temperament to look at my cell phone, the damn thing was dead. I knew Mom would be sick with worry, but I didn’t care and going home still hadn’t taken a slot on my agenda.
    Stephan and I had similar phones, and his charger fit mine, so it wasn’t long before the alerts started sounding. Message after message populated the screen.
    Here it was three days until Christmas, and I was unprepared and not in the spirit.
    I finally caved and listened to Mom’s messages. Most of them were asking me to call or come home, not one in which she said she was sorry. There were two from Ben thanking me for the lunch and then the next one asking about which bank we used.
    Ben’s words were full of encouragement and excitement, and my gut wretched in response. I would have to tell him the new truth, and I wasn’t sure how to do that.
    “Trouble?” Stephan asked beside me at the bar.
    “Just Ben wanting to know what bank we use. I don’t know how to tell him.”
    “You don’t. That is for Mary Ellen to do. Her secret, her truth.”
    “I wonder if he would take just the hundred acre parcel.”
    “Depends on the need of his herd. Also depends on the bank. They may hold all of the money toward the debt, and you’re still no better off.”
    “Makes me so freakin’ angry.” I slammed my phone against the laminate.

After lunch, I drove home, assuming Mom would be at work, but when I pulled up close to the house, I saw her car in the carport. The idea of fighting more with her wrecked me physically, and nausea roared within me, fighting space and as my blood pressure made swooshing sounds in my ears.
    I found her asleep on the sofa. The house was cold once again. As I crossed the living room floor, the croaking wood gave away my intrusion.
    She sat up quickly. “I was very worried. I didn’t know if you were at Stephan’s or went back to Dallas, so I drove out to his place and saw your car. Are you two getting back together?”
    “First, we’re just friends, and second, my relationship is not what we need to be talking about. Ben called. You need to call him and tell him the truth. Then you can decide how you’re going to make this broken place work because I’m leaving on Saturday and—with my new job and school, I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
    “This weekend is Christmas.” She pouted.
    “No, Thursday is Christmas. Saturday, I’m leaving.” I wrote Ben’s number on a piece of paper and handed it to her before going to change clothes.
    We didn’t speak again before I left to go in to town to Dr. Palmer’s office.
    When I pulled into the clinic’s