“Done.”
“That gives me time to talk to her and let her know she has a daddy, and he’s coming to meet her.” Kellie smiled at me, and it was one I’d never seen before. I couldn’t read it or tell if it was relief, pride, love, or if she was just grateful. Not that it mattered. I wished I knew so I could keep it there.
“Let me know where and when, and I’ll be here,” I promised, knowing nothing would keep me from that date.
Kellie yawned again, and I quickly followed suit. “Well then, I’m going to go inside and get some sleep before the tornado attacks, demanding pancakes.” Kellie reached for the door.
“Stop!” I said louder than I’d intended before jumping out of the truck and rounding the hood. When I reached her door, I opened it for her and offered her my hand. She stared at it curiously. “In Texas, we open car doors for our women.”
“Our women, hey?”
“Yep. My woman.”
“What else do you do for your woman?”
“Well,” I started, winding her arm through mine and leading her down the path. “I walk them to the door, and if I’m really lucky, she might even let me steal a goodnight kiss.”
“Can it be a goodnight kiss if the sun’s already rising?”
Shaking my head, I glanced down at the woman staring up at me with hearts in her eyes. Life with Kellie would never be boring. She’d challenge me and fight me every step of the way, but in that moment, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more.
“Shut up and kiss me, woman,” I demanded, bending down and taking her lips in a bruising kiss.
My phone rang on the seat beside me, bringing me back to the here and now. Seeing Mom’s name had me rolling my eyes. I know I was being a jackass and hiding from her, but the truth was I had so much to tell her I didn’t know where to start. She was a grandmother. A title she’d been hinting at wanting for years now, but I was terrified she would hold it against Kellie. It wasn’t that I agreed with the choices Kellie had made, but I understood them. I couldn’t judge her for doing the best she could for our daughter with what she had. If anyone was to blame for this shitshow, it was me. I just hoped Mom would see that.
I picked it up, intending to answer when I spotted Gladiator enjoying the pasture down by the creek. Pressing down on the gas, I headed in his direction, hoping a day of adventure would soothe his prickly temper.
Two dusty, sweaty hours later, my hands were bleeding, the skin torn from my knuckles, but Gladiator was back where he should be enjoying a bucket of barley. Leaning on the side of my truck, I chugged down a bottle of water that had been sitting in the sun on the front seat all afternoon. It was disgusting and did nothing to quench my thirst, but I still had a fence to mend if I didn’t want to be chasing Gladiator again tomorrow.
Sawyer called. Nash’s arm was broken, and they’d be operating in the morning. He was on his way back and said he’d give me a hand with the fence before he drove back in to drop off some things to Nash, who was as temperamental as a bull. Sawyer and Nash were good guys, some of the best. They were a year or two younger than me and hadn’t been around when I left, but they were some of the hardest-working ranch hands I’d ever met. When I’d first come back, I was pissed off and had a chip on my shoulder the size of Texas. They didn’t judge. They just handed me a beer and told me to get my head out of my ass, there was work to do. I don’t know if it just didn't register with them that now Dad was gone, I was the boss, or maybe they just didn’t care. Either way, I appreciated their honesty and the fact they called a spade a spade. I wasn’t fancy. I didn’t need a title or people to treat me like I was special, and they didn’t. Not from that very first day.
After tossing a roll of wire in the back, I grabbed a pair of gloves, determined to protect what was left of my hands and was just swinging myself up into the cab when the passenger door opened, and Mom climbed in.
“What are you doing?” I asked, taking in her outfit.
Mom had been a rancher's wife since she was twenty-one. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, and she could swear with the best of them. She’d been known to down tequila shooters like she had a death wish, and even until this day, I’d never seen anyone muck stalls so determinedly.
“Helping you fix the fence,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Mom, you don’t have to…”
“Shut up and drive, Jake. We have a fence to fix, then I have dinner to cook, and there’s a conversation we need to have.”
“Conversation?” I asked dumbly as I bumped across the grate.
“Why you’ve been avoiding me since you snuck in on Sunday morning?”
“Shit! You know about that?”
“Jake, I’m your mother. I know everything.”
Rolling my eyes, I pressed harder on the gas, keen to get out of the confined space with her. She might have been a rancher's wife and my mom, but I swear to God, she trained with the FBI in a former life. This woman’s interrogation skills came second to her ability to bake an apple pie, a pie she won prizes for in four counties.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long before we had the fence mended and probably in better shape than it had been before Gladiator decided to push over the post. Bloody menace. We were finishing up when Sawyer appeared on the back of an ATV.
“Shit! You’re already done?”
“Yep. Mom…” I started, only to be cut off.
