West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)(10)

We all know this, but I can’t…let her do it.

“We’re not discussing this.”

“Ugh!” she yells, throwing her arms up in the air. “You’re so…”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence, Sadie Jo Stone.”

The use of her full name stops her for a second, but my daughter, in all her inability to be too much like me and not enough like her mother, grins. “Wonderful.”

We both know that wasn’t going to be what she said, but I damn sure can’t punish her for that.

“Smart move.”

“One day, Daddy, you’re going to realize that I’m smart about a lot of things, and you’re going to let me make my own choices.”

“Yes, but it won’t be about that horse.”

She walks to the door, and I don’t doubt she’s going to test me and saddle him, like she’s done before.

“Where are you going?”

“To the chicken coop, or am I not allowed to be near them because they’re dangerous too? Maybe they’ll peck my eye out!”

“I’d rather it be your tongue,” I say.

She huffs and then exits, pulling the door like she’s going to slam it, but stops right before it hits. Sadie closes it ever so slowly, because she knows that slamming a door in this house will get you grounded.

I walk over and drop into the kitchen chair. I really thought parenting was going to be easy. It probably would be a hell of a lot easier if her mother were here, but those aren’t the cards we were dealt. I have my sisters, who definitely do a lot of the mothering a girl needs, but it’s not the same.

My phone pings with a text.

Lark





Did you have my truck brought here?





I’m not sure I should answer that. Partially because I have no earthly idea why the hell I did it. It was stupid. I should’ve left it, but I had some time because I couldn’t sleep, so I went out there and put it on my flatbed and brought it to her. Thankfully without a single person figuring it out.

I did.





Lark





Tristan, that was…you shouldn’t have. Thank you.





I didn’t trust your brothers to handle it.





I grin, knowing that’ll piss her off and maybe make it look like I didn’t do it because I’m nice.

Lark





Ha ha. Although, since they removed the spare, I don’t necessarily disagree. Anyway, that was sweet. Thank you.





It was not sweet. It was me being a dick and trying to piss off your family. Stick with that story.





Lark





Whatever you say, but we both know the truth.





I put my phone back in my pocket, not wanting to say something nice when I don’t want to be nice to her. In fact, I want to hate her. I want to pretend that her smile, her eyes, the way she looked at me when I made that stupid-ass comment about a flood, did not do something to my heart.

I want none of it.

So I need to put it behind me and go back to despising everyone from that bloodline.

I close my eyes, leaning my head back when I feel a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look up. “Hi, Pop.”

“Messed up with Sadie, huh?”

Yeah, we’ll go with that as the reason I’m feeling like a thousand pounds of stupid.

“I didn’t mess up with Sadie.”

No, it’s far worse where I’m messing up.

He chuckles, the wrinkles around his cheeks growing deeper. “Sure you didn’t. Let me remind you I have three daughters myself. I know when a father screws up just by the look on her face.”

“I’m guessing you’ve seen it a lot then?” I say as a joke, but also not.

“Damn straight. Women are mysterious creatures, and they don’t know what they want until you give them what they didn’t want.” He laughs at himself and sits beside me, taking his time. He’s getting a lot older each day. His once-brown hair is now completely white, and he tires so much faster than before, but his mind is still sharp as a tack. “Now, what did you do this time? I’ll tell you how to make it right.”

Clyde Stone is good at a lot of things. My father can fix a fence, build a barn, repair the tractor, tell you everything you could ever want to know about horses, but when it came to us kids—he was a bit of a dumbass.

It was Mom who held this family together. He’s been trying since we lost her six years ago.

We don’t fight much, but when we do, it’s always about the horses or Sadie.

Combine the two and it’s going to be a bloodbath.

“Nothing, Pop. Just kid shit.”

“You know what I think?”

I don’t, and I really don’t want to know either. There’s only one option—get the hell out of the house.

I stand and push the chair in. “I wish I could talk, but I need to check on the animals in the barn.”

My father shakes his head. “Sit down, Tristan.”

Just like that, I’m fifteen again, not thirty-six and a grown-ass man. My father’s voice brooks no room for argument. He may not be running this farm, but he’s still head of the family, and I will always respect that.