But then we lost Mama two years ago, and it was as though Dad died with her.
I hardly recognize the man lying in this bed.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, squeezing his hand. To my surprise, his eyes flutter open, and he looks at me, and it’s a hit to the solar plexus.I love him so much.“If you wanted to get me to come home, you didn’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
Humor flickers in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
“He can’t talk,” Willow whispers.
“I’m here, too, Dad,” Gideon says, joining me, and Dad’s gaze shifts to my brother.
None of us are related by blood, but we’re linked by something far more important. Years of respect and laughter. Hard work. And the devotion we all had for the love of his life.
Dad’s eyes fill with tears. I can tell that he wants to say something, and he’s frustrated, but he’s also so weak and tired.
“We know,” I assure him, and kiss the back of his hand again. Gideon lays his hand on Dad’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“We love you, too, Dad,” Gideon says.
“Thank you.” I swallow the tears down. “Thank you for everything you did for us. For giving us Mom, and the ranch, and Willow. Hell, for giving us alife.”
A tear falls from Dad’s eye, and Gideon brushes it away.
“Hey,” Gideon says, his gruff voice soft. “You go to Mom. We know you’ve been missing her like crazy.”
“Just tell her we love her,” I add, my own tears falling from my eyes.
“I love you too,” Willow adds, leaning over so he can see her. “So, so much. Please kiss Aunt Deb for me, Uncle Ray.”
Christ.
“We’ve got this,” Gideon says.
Dad looks at each of us once more, and then he closes his eyes and sighs, and the machine makes a static, beeping noise, signaling that there is no heartbeat.
Dad’s gone.
Chapter Two
Ryker
It’s late, and the house is finally quiet as I walk into the living room and find Gideon sitting by the fireplace, watching the flames, a tumbler of whiskey dangling from his fingers. Aside from standing up with Willow and me to give Dad’s eulogy, he hasn’t said more than two words today.
I’ve just poured my own tumbler, and I sit across from him, take a sip of the expensive whiskey I sent Dad for Christmas—that he never opened—and then rub my fingertips over my forehead.Christ, I’m tired.
“Did the last of them leave?” Gideon asks me. He’s been in here for a while. Gideon doesn’t do well with a room full of people. It puts him on edge. He’s the strong, silent type. He’s not a talker, and definitelynota socializer. The most social this man gets is when he comes to watch me play.
We couldn’t be more different if we fucking tried.
“Yeah. It’s just us now. Willow’s finishing up in the kitchen. I offered to help, but she told me I was in her way and to get lost.”
It’s just us now.
“Sounds about right.”
I nod just as the woman herself walks into the living room and sits on the stone ledge in front of the roaring fire so she can look at both of us. She’s still in her black dress, but she’s barefoot, having shed her heelsa while ago. Her blond hair is down around her shoulders, and although she looks as bone tired as I feel, she’s still gorgeous.
“I need to leave soon. I have to get Aiden.”
