When I turn around, Gramps is sitting in a chair behind me, two cold-looking beers set out on the table. “For a slow-mover, you’re shockingly agile.”
He flips me the bird and tells me to sit. I listen, popping the tab on both beers and handing one to him.
He takes a long drink, holds a fisted hand to his mouth as he burps, and says, “Beautiful out here, isn’t it?”
“Always is,” I respond, taking a pull from my beer.
He gestures out at the sunset with a flattened hand, his palm parallel to the horizon. “You see that salmon color? It was your grandma’s favorite.”
I nod. “I bet you miss her. I know I do.”
“I miss her like you wouldn’t believe. Right here.” He thumps the skin over his heart. “I feel it right here. The rest of me just hurts because I’m old. I’m telling you Wes, aging is a real bitch.”
I chuckle and keep my own aches and pains to myself. Something tells me my saddle soreness is nothing compared to what he feels.
“How’s Dakota?” he asks, his gaze sliding over to me.
“Good, Gramps. She’s good.”
“You sure about that? Because I heard Warner telling Wyatt she’s ignoring you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You can’t hear half the shit we say to you, but gossip about my love life you manage to hear?”
He doesn’t respond, just waits patiently for me to provide a real answer. I sigh. “My mom put her nose where it didn’t belong and something tells me Dakota didn’t appreciate it.”
“I’m sure your mother meant well.”
I nod. “She did. Still doesn’t mean she should’ve done it.”
“Good point.” He looks back out at the sky.
“Do you know Dad changed the trust? I can take over the ranch now without being married first.”
“Who do you think told him to do it?”
“You…?” My eyebrows lift. When he nods, I say, “Thank you.”
“The rule was outdated, and it means something different in these modern times. Back when my dad decided on the rule, people were more likely to marry for practical reasons, and nobody ever said love was practical. Did you know your grandma and I knew each other less than a month before we got married?”
I stare at him, surprised. “How have I never heard that before?”
“Your parents probably kept it from you because they didn’t want you going and doing something so crazy.” He laughs at his own joke, and it makes me smile.
“Too late,” I quip, tipping the can to my lips.
“Barely one month we knew each other before we tied the knot, and we were married fifty-six years. Marriage is hard no matter what, Wes, and dating her for years before marrying her wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. Just woulda kept me from having her in bed, because back then we didn’t do that before marriage.” He cackles while I cringe, trying not to think of my grandma that way. “From what I can tell, you’ve gone and fucked this up something awful, but it’s salvageable. Everything is.”
My hand flies to my chest. “I’ve fucked this up?”
“Yep. You young people make it all so difficult. You went and asked her to marry you to get the ranch, and I can see why, but I think you bit off a little more than you could chew. I might be near deaf, but I’m not blind. My advice? Cut the shit and tell her you’re in love with her. You can still marry her, but don’t do it without telling her how you feel. She deserves that.”
My head’s spinning. It’s like he reached into the recesses of my mind and said everything I think but can’t seem to say. And how does he even know about marrying Dakota to get the ranch? When I ask him, he says, “Overheard your mom and dad talking.”
I throw up my hands and he snickers. I gather both our empty cans and stand, but Gramps stops me with an outstretched arm. “Your dad told me you attended a meeting at the VFW.” He nods at me, serious now. “Proud of you, Son. There’s nothing braver than a man getting help when he needs it.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, uncharacteristic shyness creeping in.
“So, what are you going to do about Dakota now that the trust has been changed?”
