Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(20)
Standing on the edge of a literal cliff, I tossed my portion of Mom’s ashes into the wind and made a pact with myself. Tell the people I love that I love them. If someone asks for help, be there. And if the love of my life ever decides to give me a second chance, make sure she doesn’t regret it.
It doesn’t seem likely that Blair has any interest in giving me another shot. But even if she still hates me, I can’t sit here wondering anymore. Not after years of dialing her number, then canceling the call before the first ring. Not after years of briefly stopping at the end of her parents’ driveway, questioning whether it’s worth asking them to pass along a message.
Red snaps a finger in front of my face and stares at me with furrowed brows. “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just thinking about the rodeo in a couple weeks,” I lie. “You coming? I miss having you behind the chutes, man.”
If he doesn’t buy my lie, he does a good job of not giving enough of a shit to call me out. “I have to talk to Cassidy first, but maybe. I’m sure she’ll want to get out of the house, too.”
“You and Cass being together—having a kid together—still feels crazy to me. Can’t believe you went and grew up.”
“Best thing that could’ve happened to me, man. This time last year, I would’ve never expected it.” He rubs his palm across the stubble on his jaw. “Don’t get me wrong, it was fun hitting up rodeos every weekend, drinking, being a stupid kid. But if I had known there was a chance I could end up with Cassidy, I would’ve given that all up a long time ago. Would’ve gotten my shit together sooner.”
“Well, better late than never, right?”
He looks pointedly at me, then gives his mare a little kick, trotting to rejoin the rest of the guys back on the north side of the creek. I take another minute alone to watch the cattle slowly disperse before turning and following after the other cowboys.
Catching back up to Red, I say, “For the record, I have my shit together. I’m just not interested in anything long term. No kids and wife in the cards for this guy.”
“I said the same thing at one point.” He reaches into his saddlebag and pulls out a bottle of water. A far cry from previous cattle drives, when we guzzled beer the entire ride back to the ranch. “Now I have the girl I always wanted, and the world’s cutest baby.”
“And the dad bod to match.” I slap him on the stomach with a laugh and give Vegas a little kick, escaping right before Red’s hand can hit me upside the head.
* * *
—
At eight p.m. I’m settled on top of my bed with a beer, holding my phone to my ear for my routine chat with Dad. Jackson doesn’t necessarily have an issue with our father, but he also doesn’t put in the effort to talk to him regularly. Austin hasn’t spoken with him since he left, and the two of them are too alike to work it out.
He comes for dinner on the anniversary of Mom’s death, and her birthday. But somewhere through the years—when Dad realized how much he was missing by not being here—he started calling me in the space between those dinners.
His gruff voice comes through the phone, “Hey, kid.”
After a deep breath, I dive right into it. Word-vomiting all over the place. “Blair’s back home to take care of her mom—remember I told you before that she’s sick. Anyway, maybe it’s a real bad choice…but damn, I want to get her back. I have no clue if she’s still mad about everything, or if she’d even be interested in me anymore….”
“Blair’s back,” he muses.
“Yeah, she is.”
“Is it going to make anything worse if you try to fix things?”
I take a swig of my beer, unsure how anything could be worse than not speaking for over a decade. “Guess not.”
“There’s your answer. Now that’ll be a hundred bucks for your therapy session.”
“Yeah, put it on my tab.” I roll my eyes—not that he can see. Probably a good thing, too, or I’d get smacked upside the head. “Speaking of which, Odessa’s got this swear jar set up and some of us might as well toss our entire pay in there the moment we get it.”
Dad laughs wistfully.
I know he misses it here. Misses us. Things were hard after Mom died, and he needed to get away from the memories. Aus refuses to forgive him for it, but I’m too much like my dad in some ways to stay mad. I can’t blame him for running away, because I did the same thing. Sure, after losing Blair I didn’t physically leave Wells Canyon, but I still ran. To liquor, parties, misbehavior, women…I ran to anything I thought could help with the pain, just as he did.
For twenty minutes, I fill him in on the ranch, the lack of rain, and what his family’s up to. He blows me off every time I hint at him coming home. And when we hang up, I lie back on the pillow and fall asleep dreaming up all the ways I might be able to get my Blair back.
Denver
(fourteen years old)
I stepped off the school bus behind Blair and started up the long, sloping driveway. With a running start, I expertly jumped clear over the cattle guard and turned to smile at her.
“One day you’re going to screw that up and break your leg,” she said, carefully stepping on each metal bar laid across the driveway. “And your mom is gonna be mad.”