This place is too big to go looking.
“Back here.” His voice carries from the direction of my old room.
It looks so different than it did before Christmas.
The sheetrock has almost all been replaced and every scrap of anything I’d owned is gone.
Luckily, I had pretty much moved out before the fire.
“How’s it going out there?” He glances down at me from on top of a ladder where he’s threading wires for a new ceiling fan.
“Good, I guess. He got the Cat unloaded and is starting on the driveway.” I try to play it cool, but inside I’m dying to run back outside and watch.
Dad’s mouth tilts. “Glad to hear. I have to admit, I’m pretty happy you decided to stay here. You know that house offer would have stood no matter where you chose to land?”
“Yea, you told me that.” I start picking up some of the odd garbage that’s appeared.
Empty boxes, plastic packaging, and other crap.
“I remember you telling me a few times you couldn’t wait to leave.” He sets down his tool and climbs down. “Let’s go have a cup of coffee.”
Shit. Did I mess something up?
Following him to the kitchen, he grabs two mugs from the cupboard and fills them, then gestures for me to sit.
“I didn’t want to leave. I just wanted to find something different.” I twist my cup nervously while I watch him.
“I get it. I’m glad you seemed to have found what you’re looking for.” He leans back with a groan, kicking his feet out to the side. “That’s why I wanted to talk. You know this ranch was originally Grandma and Grandpa’s?”
A sharp pain stabs into my chest at the mention. “Yea.”
“They split it into three equal shares. One for me, Dixon, and Cade. After your mom died—” He clears his throat.
How does he deal with the loss?
I would be broken if anything happened to Val.
Just the thought makes me see Dad in a whole new light.
He did break. I remember it.
There were times when I was frustrated with him, almost hated him some days when he would drift away.
I used to think the ranch was more important to him than we were.
But I know now. He was just doing what he could to survive.
Fuck.
That hurts.
He worked despite all of that pain and grief.
I would be a shell. An empty husk.
“—anyways. After that whole shit, they revised the trust to be just Dixon and me.” He runs his palm over his face. “My part will be split evenly amongst all of my kids. But, Sawyer—” He leans closer, crossing his arms on the table. “—you’re going to need to learn all of this. You can run this place probably better than me. Your sister and I had a conversation a couple of weeks ago, and she doesn’t want the responsibility. She said she’d defer to you, if you took over.”
His lips flatten and the muscle on the side of his jaw starbursts up to his temple. “After the fire, it made me realize just how fast all of this can change.”
