That's not something you give up easily. Mrs. Chen smiled slightly. Besides, Lily would be devastated if you left. It's not just about Lily. I know.
The way she said it made Evelyn's face heat. There's nothing between me and Mr. Ridgewell. I didn't say there was. But there could be if you both weren't so stubborn about it. Mrs. Chen, mhm?
I'm old, not blind. I see how he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching, and I see how you look at him. The older woman's expression grew serious, but I also know that timing matters, and right now the timing is terrible. So, you're both doing the right thing by keeping your distance. This conversation is inappropriate.
Probably, but someone needs to say it out loud so you both stop pretending. Mrs. Chen patted her arm. Just remember that gossip eventually fades. What you do with your life after it fades is what actually matters. The weeks that followed were tense and strange.
The ranch settled into an uneasy rhythm where everyone was carefully polite, but nobody seemed comfortable. The remaining hands did their jobs and ate Evelyn's food and said thank you, but the easy camaraderie from before was gone. Evelyn threw herself into work with almost manic intensity. She expanded the menu, tried new recipes, making everything from scratch even when shortcuts were available. The pantry became her kingdom and the kitchen her fortress.
And if she was working too hard to think about anything else, well, that was the point. Lily was her only real comfort. The girl still came for her Saturday lessons, and in that small pocket of time, everything felt normal. They made bread and pies and cookies, and Lily chatted about books she was reading and things Mrs. Chen had taught her. And Evelyn could almost forget the ugliness lurking outside the kitchen walls.
It was during one of these lessons in mid-November that everything finally broke. They were making sugar cookies, Lily carefully rolling out dough while Evelyn prepared the cutters, when the sound of raised voices erupted from the yard. Both of them froze. "Stay here," Evelyn said firmly, but Lily was already moving toward the window. Through the glass, they could see a group of men on horseback, not ranch hands, strangers.
And in the middle of them, arguing with Holloway, was Sarah Mitchell's father, Nathaniel Mitchell. Evelyn's stomach dropped. Go find your father, she told Lily, right now. The girl ran and Evelyn walked out into the yard on legs that felt like they were made of water. Mitchell was a big man, red-faced and angry, and he was shouting loud enough for half the ranch to hear.
Absolute disgrace. That woman has made a mockery of decent society with her behavior, and I won't stand for it. Mr. Mitchell, you need to calm down, Holloway said, his hand resting meaningfully on his sidearm. I'll calm down when that scheming harlot is removed from this ranch and sent back where she belongs. Evelyn stepped into view, her hands clenched at her sides.
I'm right here, Mr. Mitchell. If you have something to say about me, say it to my face. Mitchell whirled on her, his face purpling with rage. You've got nerve, I'll give you that. Turning my daughter into a laughingstock, spreading your legs for Finish that sentence and you'll regret it.
Ridgewell's voice cut across the yard like a whip crack. He'd appeared on the main house porch with Lily behind him, and his face was carved from stone. Mitchell actually took a step back. Ridgewell. I'm here as a courtesy to tell you that you're harboring a woman of loose morals who's been spreading lies about my daughter.
Well, the only lies being spread are the ones your daughter started. Ridgewell descended the porch steps slowly, every movement controlled. Ms. Harper has done nothing but her job. Your daughter, on the other hand, has spent months slandering a woman she barely knows because she can't accept rejection. How dare you?