Country Born--A Novel by Linda Lael Miller

Author:Linda Lael Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2022-02-04T14:03:38+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SARA SNEAKED INTO her house, into her own kitchen, like a guilty teenager, at 6:05 a.m. the next morning, hair askew, shoes in one hand, purse dangling from the opposite wrist.

It came as a less-than-fabulous surprise to find her son and her ex-husband seated at the table, drinking coffee.

“Mom,” Eric blurted, clearly shocked. He actually went pale.

Zachary, for his part, smirked and raised one eyebrow but said nothing.

Sara decided, in a moment of pure desperation, that the best defense was indeed an offense. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, setting aside her handbag with a thump.

“I live here, remember?” Eric snapped, furious and faintly contemptuous.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sara said evenly. It was a struggle not to react to her son’s mood, but she managed, mostly.

Zachary shambled easily to his feet, obviously enjoying Sara’s predicament.

“I guess I’d better be on my way,” he said.

“Good idea,” Sara affirmed, glaring.

“Dad brought me home,” Eric all but whined. “And he has a right to be here!”

“The hell he does,” Sara countered without taking her eyes off her ex. “Get out, Zachary.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little bit?” Zachary replied. “You’ve always been so dramatic.”

“Isn’t that what narcissists always say?” Sara shot back. “When someone calls them on their bullshit, they say they’re overreacting, being dramatic. Get the hell out of my house. Now.”

Zachary, still smugly jovial, raised both palms, playing the peacemaker. “I’m going,” he said indulgently. “No need to lose it in front of our son, Sara.”

She was supposed to feel guilty.

She didn’t.

She folded her arms, shoes still dangling from one hand, and waited.

Zachary finally left, going through to the living room and then out the front door.

It slammed behind him.

In all that time, neither Sara nor Eric spoke. They were both royally pissed, and it was a standoff.

Finally, Eric slammed one fist down onto the tabletop, causing the coffee mugs to jiggle. Then he shoved back his chair, got to his feet and stormed out of the kitchen.

Welcome back to the real world, Sara told herself silently.

Thanks to the encounter just past, her delicious night with J.P. seemed like a distant dream.

And she was wide-awake now.

“Crap,” she muttered, and headed for her own quarters on the other side of the house.

There, she dropped her shoes, took off her sundress—with some difficulty since it zipped in the back—and let it fall to the floor.

After that, she padded into her bathroom, loosening her hair from its braid as she went. She showered thoroughly, shampooed and conditioned her long tresses, and after drying off and wrapping her head in a towel, she donned regular clothes—ordinary jeans, a plain short-sleeved cotton blouse and flip-flops.

She was sitting on the back patio, brushing her hair before re-plaiting it, when Hayley appeared in the doorway, her eyes round.

“Eric is freaking out,” the girl announced.

“Eric,” Sara answered coolly, “needs to mind his own business.”

“He said you were out all night, with some guy,” Hayley went on with delight. “I didn’t tell him you were with J.

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