Ranch life was hard. It kept you busy from sunup till sundown. When I was a girl, there were days I didn’t see my dad until he poked his head in at bedtime, but we could always count on Friday nights.
Mom was usually in charge of Friday dinners, but since she was out of town, that commitment had fallen to Cleo, Lennox, and I. We’d spent most of the late afternoon in the kitchen making Dad’s favorite meal: grilled ribeye with fully loaded baked potatoes and asparagus.
It was not on his approved eating list, but we were keeping that between us.
Ellis sat beside me, his arm resting on the back of my chair. Had I known he was coming, I would’ve made a salad, but a baked potato and asparagus would have to do. He’d been acting strange all week—asking to come out almost every evening to go through Dad’s boxes or just to bring me dinner. I’d declined every offer, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
I knew the reason was because of Lincoln. If they’d never met, Ellis never would’ve stepped up the way he had. But maybe he was noticing the distance between us just like I was.
Over supper, Charles had asked Lincoln more about himself and about the little mountain town he grew up in. Then, Dad had gone and dropped the bomb about my trip last summer, which gave way to a new host of questions—not that I’d told anyone other than my sisters about where I spent my time.
I’d been determined to take that tryst to the grave, keeping it a closely guarded secret that would keep me warm when my bed was cold.
The problem was that I was a shit liar, and Ellis knew that. Ifhe asked me if there was something between Lincoln and me… Well, I didn’t know what I would say.
The logical thing would be to tell him the truth, but it was far more complicated than that. My feelings for Lincoln hadn’t simply vanished; they’d just lied dormant until something—or a specific someone—woke them up again.
Now, my guilty gaze was focused on the man in question sitting across from me at the dinner table. He’d been attentive all night, laughing at my dad’s jokes and asking my sisters about their days. Every interaction he had with my family was genuine. He liked them, and to my quiet joy, they liked him back.
Maybe it would’ve been easier to hate him if his chaps didn’t perfectly hug his wrangler-clad ass. How was anyone supposed to get over that? I certainly wasn’t that strong.
“Thank you for dinner,” Ellis said, interrupting my inappropriate train of thought. He looked down at his plate. “It was thoughtful to make a side I could actually eat.”
Everyone paused, turning to look our way. He forced a smile—one I was sure he thought was polite, but really just looked like he’d swallowed something rotten.
I cleared my throat, wiping the corner of my mouth. “Well, I didn’t know you were coming or I would’ve done something different.”
“What’s wrong with the steak?” Lincoln asked, gaze flitting between Ellis and his plate.
“I’m a vegetarian. I pride myself on my health, and red meat is bad for the heart.”
Lennox’s fork clattered against her plate as she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She opened her mouth to say something, but Dad swooped in before she could.
“So, Ellis, how’s work going?” my dad asked, passing the baked potatoes to Cleo, who was sitting next to him.
“Work is great, Doug. And we’re seeing great income projectionnumbers for the ranch this year. Honestly, these clinics you put on? The money practically makes itself. You won’t have to worry about feed in the winter.”
Lincoln and Bishop both rolled their eyes, while Charles narrowed his.
He’d been quiet during dinner whenever work came up. It was more than a sore subject at the moment.
My dad smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s great to hear.”
“Are you already planning one for next year? We need to keep the momentum up,” Ellis said, taking a bite of his baked potato.
For more reasons than one, the fake smile vanished. The missing money was one thing, but Dad’s illness was another. That was the hard truth about keeping secrets. Eventually, they’d need to come out. We’d all kept the extent of Dad’s health under wraps from anyone who didn’t hold a permanent position at this table.
“Well,” my dad said, clearing his throat. “Let’s get through this one first, and then we’ll think about next year.”
Ellis paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “But why? If we start now, you could get some of these same people on the books.”
Cleo and Lennox stared in my direction, willing me to do anything to intervene, but I was momentarily frozen. I didn’t know what to do or say that wouldn’t give away Dad’s health issues. Like I said, I was a shit liar.
“But—”
“I’ll have to stop you boys right there,” I said, touching Ellis’ shoulder. It was clammy, but I hoped he didn’t notice. “Rule number two of the Hayes family dinner code says no talking business at dinner. Just because mom’s out of town doesn’t mean you can throw them out the window.”
Okay, so it wasn’t really a rule per se, but it wasn’t far from the truth. My grandma had always outlawed business talk at the table because it tended to spoil her home-cooked meals. I’d never reallyknown what that meant growing up, but now that I was old enough to recognize the awkward tension in the air, I didn’t blame her.
