Instead, her daughter ignored the driving instructions and shifted into the left lane to pass a truck that was merely going the speed limit.
“I mean, the color is gorgeous,” Ella said for the twentieth time since they’d left the salon, shopped, ate, shopped some more, and finally got in the car to make the long drive back to Bitter Bark. “Deep-chocolate auburn with apricot streaks.”
“It sounds like something Gramma Finnie would bake for Sunday dinner.”
Ella laughed. “It’s delicious, Mom, and so are you. Don’t you feel pretty?”
She smiled, not wanting to admit that at sixty-two, she didn’t remember what pretty felt like. “I do feel…fresh. I think the color was a nice idea, and I needed the trim.”
“You need more than a trim, but baby steps, right?”
“Ella, please,” she said softly. “I’ve agreed to everything you asked for all these months since Declan got married.”
“You haven’t hated my year of self-improvement, have you?”
“Not at all,” Colleen admitted. “I’ve enjoyed it, mostly because I love spending time with you more than anyone else on earth.”
She could have sworn her daughter’s lashes fluttered imperceptibly at that, but the imagined wince could have been frustration with the SUV that had the audacity to get in front of Ella, Queen of the Road.
“But you look and feel great, right?” Ella asked. “That’s more important than spending time with me.”
“Nothing is more important than you,” Colleen said on a laugh, noticing that Ella didn’t laugh back, but kind of smiled. “I’ve made the changes you think will make me healthier and live longer. My braid is…not making me unhealthy.”
“I hear you, Mom. And I’m proud of all you’ve done. Keep the hair if it makes you happy.” She rubbed her hand over her own hair—always perpetually short, spiky, and messy, but she wore the style with grace and beauty that few people could pull off. “I couldn’t stand all that hair weighing me down.”
“You don’t like anything weighing you down,” Colleen mused. “And speaking of people who’ve changed, you haven’t taken a trip in what…a year? More?”
Her lower lip came out slightly in an expression that her three older brothers called the Smella Pout when she didn’t get her way. That might have been true when she was the baby of a big, loud, male-centric family, but at thirty-three, Ella Mahoney didn’t need to pout. Life generally gave her whatever she wanted, or she figured out a way to get it.
“The store,” Ella said simply. “I can’t go gallivanting around the world looking for my next adventure when we’re running a profitable business.”
The store? “Honey, I can mind the shop if you want to…gallivant.”
“I thought you hated when I travel.”
“Not at all,” Colleen said. “I love the pictures and the stories and the glow you have after you’ve been on an adventure. I love knowing that you’re going to climb the next mountain or zip-line through the next jungle.”
“It was more fun with Darcy,” she said, referring to her cousin, who’d accompanied her on many trips before she married Josh. “But…” She threw a look at her mother. “You don’t hate it when I travel? Why do I always feel you’re not happy when I leave?”
“Because I love to be with you more than anyone in the world.”
Once again, she thought she saw Ella’s expression shift at the comment.
“But don’t let that stop you, El,” Colleen added quickly. “I totally understand your wanderlust. I had it as a kid, too.”
“So what happened?” she asked.
“Um, marriage, kids, life. Dad wasn’t big on going anywhere but camping with you kids.”
Ella looked skyward. “And you wonder why I don’t want to get tied down.”
“But you’re not traveling or dating,” Colleen said. “And you should be living your best life right now.”
“I am.” But she sounded just a tad not…enthusiastic.
Colleen studied her daughter’s extraordinary profile for a moment, wondering if there wasn’t something deeper going on.
“And…what’s happening with the men in your life?”
Ella snorted. “The line of them?”
“There are two who seem to be around a bit.”
“Jace is in and out of Bitter Bark,” she said, referring to the handsome Greek from Chicago who always found reasons to extend his business trips here. “And Colin isn’t filming his show in the winter, so we just text now and then.”
Colin Donahue, the host of Rescue Party, a TV show about dogs that frequently filmed in Bitter Bark, had shown a lot of interest in Ella, but she didn’t seem to click with him.
“But you keep them both at arm’s length.”
Ella slid her a look. “I have other things in my life, Mom.”
“Like?”
“The store. The family. You.”
“The store is a self-licking ice cream cone that can be run by anyone, including me. The family doesn’t need you to babysit anyone. And I certainly don’t need much attention.”
But maybe Ella thought she did, Colleen realized.
“Ella,” she said softly. “Is it me who is keeping you from…living? From taking trips or getting serious with anyone?”
She waited for the hot denial, the laugh, the teasing accusation that Colleen sure had an inflated opinion of herself. But once again, Ella didn’t respond, and that imperceptible flutter of her lashes was…well, perceptible.
“It is, isn’t it?” Colleen twisted against the seat belt, turning as the truth bolted through her. “You think you need to take care of me? That’s crazy. I’m only sixty-two, and my own mother is deep in her eighties and fully independent. Please tell me—”
“Mom, stop.”
But she couldn’t. “Is that why you’ve been on this self-improvement kick, Ella? To make me attractive to someone so I—”
“Colleen Mahoney!” Ella exclaimed. “As if I would ever treat you as some kind of…impediment to my happiness.” Her voice actually cracked, and Colleen instantly regretted saying anything. “What’s wrong with me wanting you to be happy? Everyone in this entire extended clan is in a satisfying, wonderful relationship.”
“Everyone but you.”
“Don’t turn the tables,” Ella said. “You deserve love, Mom. Is it wrong for me to want that for you? Gramma Finnie and I were just…” Her voice trailed off. “You deserve love,” she finished weakly.
“You and my mother were talking about it?” She choked softly. “Please don’t tell me I’m their next matchmaking victim.”
“Would that be so bad?” she asked.
“It would be…” So wrong. “Nuts,” she said instead. “And if anyone deserves love, it’s you.”
“Well…” When Ella didn’t finish, Colleen could feel her whole gut tighten.
“It is because of me, isn’t it? You think because Declan and Connor and Braden are all married that I’d be lonely or abandoned or somehow left out if you got married.”