Two fierce blue eyes glared at her. “You’re a bad mumma. I don’t like you.”
Tyler gasped, the hurt forcing her to her feet. “How can you say that?”
Her daughter blinked at her sharp tone, then, bursting into tears, she fled from the workshop. Nausea rushed over Tyler. She dropped the saw frame and ran after her daughter. The living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado of all Chloe’s possessions. Tripping over the clutter, Tyler poked her head behind couches and under tables, but her daughter was nowhere to be found.
Her heart clenched tighter. “Chloe!”
She ran into Chloe’s bedroom, where she spotted her curled up in bed, facing the wall. Relieved and angry with herself, Tyler bent and placed a hand on her daughter’s heaving back. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“Y-you don’t l-love me,” Chloe hiccupped through her tears.
Tyler’s chest ached even more. “That’s not true. You’re my whole life, baby.”
Chloe burst into fresh sobs, her wails bouncing off the thin walls. Tyler tried to gather her up, but the girl burrowed deeper into her pillows and cried even louder. Just then a loud knock sounded at the front door. Tyler glanced at her daughter, but Chloe was still in the throes of her tantrum and probably needed to be alone for a while.
“I’m just going to answer the door, and I’ll be right back, okay?” She kissed her daughter’s tangled mess of hair, then rose to open the front door.
As soon as she did, she wished she hadn’t. A nosy neighbor she could have dealt with, but the woman who stood on her threshold was far more formidable.
Gretchen Stafford’s cold eyes swept over Tyler, her calculating gaze absorbing every detail of her disheveled appearance. “Hello, Tyler.” She gave a brisk nod. “I was in the area, so I thought I’d pop by.”
Gretchen, the mother of Tyler’s ex-boyfriend, was always immaculately turned out. Today she wore a tailored, dove-gray silk dress with matching shoes and bag and a single strand of pearls. In contrast, Tyler’s sundress was old and sloppy, she was barefoot, and she hadn’t brushed her hair.
Tyler hitched up the strap of her dress. “Gretchen, hi. You should have called first. I might have been out.” If she had known Gretchen was in town, she would have made darn sure to be out.
Gretchen’s thin lips, outlined in pale pink lipstick, quirked. “Oh, I wanted to surprise you.” She stepped forward, a look of urgency on her face. “What’s all that crying? Is that Chloe? What’s happened to my granddaughter?”
“Nothing’s happened—”
Gretchen brushed her aside and stalked into the house. “Chloe!” Her strident voice cut through the wailing. “Where are you, precious? It’s your grandmother.”
Tyler opened her mouth to protest, but at the same time, the bawling stopped. Bare feet pattered on the floorboards, and Chloe appeared, still seminaked, her face red and wet. She blinked uncertainly at Gretchen. “Grammy?”
The older woman set down the large carrier bag she’d been holding and kneeled in front of the child. “Yes, it’s me, darling. I came to visit you. Oh, just look at you,” she tut-tutted, shooting a censorious glance over her shoulder at Tyler. “What a state you’re in.”
Tyler opened and closed her fists, outraged and helpless. It had always surprised and dismayed her that her daughter should be drawn to a battle-ax like her grandmother, but for some reason Chloe wasn’t put off by Gretchen’s abrasive nature. Maybe because Gretchen reserved all her harshness for Tyler, the woman she blamed for ruining her son’s life.
“Why were you crying?” Gretchen asked the child.
Chloe’s lower lip jutted out. “Mumma won’t read me a story.”
“That’s a shame.” Gretchen cupped her hands around Chloe’s face. “But I’m here now. I’ll read you a story. As many as you like. And look—see what I brought just for you.” She drew out a big box from the carrier bag. “Do you like it?”
Chloe’s eyes widened at the sight of the large porcelain doll dressed in a glittering ball gown. “Is that for me?” she whispered, tentatively reaching for the doll.
“Of course it is.” Rising to her feet, Gretchen held onto Chloe’s hand. “Come on, show me to your room, and maybe we can find something decent for you to wear.” Without looking at Tyler or asking permission, the woman led Chloe out of the living room.
Alone, Tyler became aware of the pain in her palms where her fingernails were digging in. She forced her fingers to stretch out, but the stinging didn’t fade. As she picked up one of Chloe’s crumpled T-shirts, a wave of despondency hit her. What was the point in trying to clean up this mess? Gretchen had already seen it and condemned her. Tossing the grubby T-shirt aside, she slumped onto the couch and waited for Gretchen’s return.
Twenty minutes later, Gretchen and Chloe walked back to the living room. The whole time Tyler had sagged on the couch, the sounds of the two chatting together had been too audible to ignore. She’d listened and ground her teeth. Now, she sat up as her daughter ran to her. Chloe wore her best dress, her hair was tidy, and her face was shiny clean.
“Mumma!” Beaming with excitement, she patted Tyler’s arm urgently. “Grammy’s taking me to see her ponies.”
“What?” She leaped to her feet and whirled on Gretchen. “Why didn’t you discuss this with me first?”
Gretchen lifted her shoulders. “The poor darling’s so eager I hate to disappoint her.”
Tyler’s heart thudded painfully as fear and anger coursed through her veins. Struggling to keep her voice steady, she said, “Chloe isn’t going anywhere with you.”
“But I wanna see the ponies,” Chloe wailed. “Why can’t I go?”
“Because I’m your mum.”
Chloe opened her mouth, looking set to cry again, but Gretchen forestalled her. “Why don’t you take some of these toys back to your room while I talk to your mother, precious?”
Looking mutinous, Chloe sucked on her lower lip but obeyed and scooped up some toys before marching out of the room. Gretchen glanced suspiciously about before gingerly perching on an armchair.
“Sit down,” she ordered Tyler.
Tyler sat on the couch, and then wanted to kick herself for obeying Gretchen’s command. To make up for it, she scowled heavily at the other woman. “You’re spoiling Chloe. She needs to see that I’m in charge.”
“It certainly doesn’t look like you’re in charge here!” Gretchen cast another critical look around her.
“What’s this about taking her to see ponies?”
“We were reading a book about ponies. I told her I had real ponies on my farm, and puppies and kittens, too. She was very eager to see all the animals, so I said she should come for a visit sometime soon.”
For a few seconds Tyler couldn’t breathe. Eventually she got out, “I know what you’re up to. You’re bribing Chloe with expensive dolls and cute pets because you want to take her away from me.” She breathed in and out furiously, her nostrils flaring. “Well, you won’t succeed. You’ll have to kill me first.”
“Oh please, spare me your cheap theatricals.” Gretchen threw up her hands before gripping the armrests. Her hands were hard and clawlike, with heavy rings crusting her fingers like brass knuckles. “And tell me what would be so wrong if Chloe came to live with me? I have a big house with plenty of space for her to run around and lots of animals. I have a full-time housekeeper and friends with grandchildren her age. My farm is only an hour away. You could come visit her whenever you liked. She’d have the best of both worlds.”
Tyler’s jaw throbbed from clamping her teeth. Black spots danced through her vision. For a second she thought she was going to pass out. “No,” she croaked harshly. “She’s not leaving. She’s my daughter. She stays with me.”
Gretchen made an impatient noise. “It’s obvious you can’t cope on your own. Look at this place. It’s a dump.” Face wrinkled, she gestured at the chaos around them. “And what about Chloe? How often do you let her wander around half-naked and no doubt half-starved as well?”
Tyler gasped. “She’s never starved! And there’s no harm in her taking off her clothes—it’s warm, and she’s just three.”
Gretchen shook her head. “You need help. For yourself. I heard from Chloe that you’d been out late last night. No doubt you stumbled home drunk.” Her bullet eyes chilled Tyler even further. “You can’t hide your hangover from me. I can still smell the alcohol on your breath.”
Gulping, Tyler instinctively covered her mouth. It was true she’d had a few drinks last night. It was also true she’d had more than the two glasses of wine she’d promised Luke. His turning down of her invitation had disappointed her more than she cared to confess, so after the two glasses of wine she’d had one cocktail. But she hadn’t gotten drunk, she didn’t have a hangover, and she was certain her breath was okay. But the censure in Gretchen’s eyes made her shrivel. Made her feel sick with guilt. She shouldn’t have left Chloe last night. She’d been selfish, and this was her punishment.