Only five years had passed since then, but it may as well have been a decade by the way his appearance had changed. His hair, still the same shade of chocolate brown, had grown the length of his chin and was unruly, as if he hadn’t taken a comb to it in weeks. His chin was filled with stubble, and even from the approximate five feet away from where she was standing, she could detect a prominent, jagged scar on his left cheek bone, just under the eye, that she was certain wasn’t there before.
What was probably the biggest difference, though, were his eyes. Although they were the same blue eyes that she remembered, they now held a distant look. They weren’t eyes of someone who was cruel or even unkind, but certainly like someone who had become hardened by years of isolation and hard work. His skin was a darker shade, too, likely indicative of hours of work each day in the sun.
The differences in his appearance, though startling at first, weren’t entirely awful. Cora actually thought that his rugged appearance had a certain appeal. She could see how women who were attracted to such lawlessness might find him quite handsome, although Cora wasnotone of those women.
One of the other ranch hands slapped Roy on the back.
“We’ll leave you to it—don’t take too long,” he said, chortling as they dispersed back to their afternoon work.
Roy didn’t acknowledge them, his eyes still fixed on Cora.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice rough and absent of any sense of a warm welcome. Cora’s nervousness was overshadowed by the annoyance she felt at his rude behavior. She was certain this was not how his father raised him to treat guests.
“I need to talk to you about something important,” Cora said, willing authority into her voice. She was indeed here on authority—that of his father’s—after all. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk privately?”
Roy didn’t respond immediately, as if he were sizing her up or debating with himself whether he wanted to take her bait. This further irritated Cora, because she wasn’t some stranger. While they had never been friends, they grew up in the same town and at the same church. She couldn’t understand why she was being regarded with such suspicion.
Curiosity must have won over his pride in the end, because he finally said, “Come on,” in a flat, monotone voice, turning around. Cora was still put off by his lack of hospitality that she stayed rooted to the spot. He had made it to the doorway before realizing she wasn’t following him. He turned his head just slightly.
“Are you coming, or not?”
Hot air poured out of her nostrils, and she grinded her teeth together, stomping behind him. She wanted to be done with this so she could get back home and forget she ever came. She already had a feeling convincing Roy to return home would be harder than she thought.
They stepped inside the wooden building where the men had just finished eating, dirty dishes still piled on top of a long table, and into a room with six single beds lined up against the wall. Each bed had only a single sheet and a small pillow that didn’t seem sufficient for comfort. Cora noticed that the floor hadn’t seen a broom in months, but it would be hard to sweep with the scattered clothes and shoes all over the floors at the foot and in between each bed.
There was a wicker back chair next to the bed that Cora could only assume belonged to Roy. He picked up a pile of dirty clothes off the chair and relocated them to a pile on the floor. Cora thought that at least he had some semblance of organization compared to the other sleeping areas around the room. Once the chair was empty, he extended his arm, gesturing silently for Cora to sit.
“No thank you,” she said politely, intent to maintain her dignity despite her presence in this filthy room, despite the smell of sweat assaulting her nostrils. “I would rather stand.”
Roy shrugged and stood several feet away, his arms crossed in front of his chest, waiting for her to speak.
“Well, go ahead,” he prompted her. “Why are you here?” There was still no sign of warmth in his flat tone.
Cora took a deep breath. She reminded herself that even though Roy was clearly a wayward man, he was also a son who’d just lost his father who was about to hear life-altering news, and he was just as deserving as anyone else of compassion when he received such information.
“Roy, I regret that I must be the one to deliver this news, but you also deserve to hear it in person from someone from your hometown,” Cora paused before continuing, searching for a sign of worry, but his eyes remained blank. She continued, “Your father has passed away. He took ill several weeks ago, and despite the best efforts of Dr. Davenport, he has succumbed to the illness. I’m very sorry. But you should know that he went peacefully. I was there by his side when he passed.”
Cora maintained a factual, matter-of-fact cadence as she delivered the news, forcing her tone to remain strong and steady, despite her own emotional investment in the matter. She did not want there be any misunderstanding in the grave news she was communicating. The quicker this matter was settled, and this task fulfilled, the quicker she could return home.
She paused, waiting for Roy to react, but his expression remained completely unchanged. She might as well have told him that she ran over a rabbit on her way to the ranch.
“Again, I am very sorry to tell you this,” Cora continued regardless. “I know that this must come as quite a shock. It’s difficult for me to deliver this news because I was quite fond of your father.”
Cora’s voice, which had successfully stayed steady, gave way to a slight quiver at this point, and she had to pause for a breath. Roy’s expression still remained as unchanged as stone.
“Before your father passed, he shared with me his last wish, and it was for you to return home. He has left you his house and everything he had to his name.”
Feeling that she had sufficiently relayed the most important information, she stopped talking and waited for Roy to respond—or provide any indication that he had even processed what she had told him. She thought she saw a flicker of something cross his eyes, but it was so fleeting that she might have imagined it.
“Well, thank you for telling me,” Roy finally said, his tone devoid of emotion. “ I should be clear that I won’t be returning to Lakewood. There is nothing there for me anymore, and my life is here now. But I do appreciate your coming all this way. I can see that this was not easy for you. Feel free to give anything in my father’s name to the bank.”
He turned to lead her out of the ranch hand quarters, but Cora didn’t move, her muscles quivering with anger.
“Are you really going to deny your father his last wish?” she cried out, no longer attempting to keep her personal attachments out of her voice. Roy turned around, one eyebrow raised in surprise at her outburst.
“You weren’t there at his deathbed the way a good son should be. You were here, doing God knows what, without even knowing that your father was sick. But I was there by his side until he left this world, and I heard his final words. There was just one thing he wanted. And you can’t even give him that, even after abandoning him in his last days?”
Roy held up his pointer finger, shaking it in her direction, although he remained several feet away. “You have not a clue what you’re talking about,” he growled, his voice low. “You have no right to come here and pass judgment on me without knowing the full story. I know you were my father’s number one fan, and I’m glad you were with him when he passed, but that doesn’t mean you know everything about me and my father.”
