Now, I understood his reason for taking on more stunts. The first two years of his marriage, he’d left me alone with Julie for longer periods than he’d done before she came into our lives. He’d supported two households.
“I’m sorry, Logan,” Katie whispered.
“It’s not your fault, sis.” He sighed with a long-drawn out breath. “We’re not always responsible for consequences beyond our doing.”
She wiped her tears. “You’ve done so much for me and Tricia, I have no idea how I’d repay you. And Mom’s behavior frustrates me.”
He shook his head, nearing her. “There’s nothing to pay. You’re my sister and I’ll always help where I can.”
She rubbed his arm then looked at me. “Although I found a job to support us, I think Mom never got over Dad’s dismissal of his marriage then Logan pulling back his support.” Katie squeezed my hand resting on the countertop. “She feels that without Skye and Julie, Logan would’ve taken care of us.”
“It’s more than that.” Dad scrubbed a hand down his face, his tired eyes drifted to the ceiling before finding mine again. “I went against my father’s wishes. On his death, he left everything to me. I gave the house to Mom and Katie. But I invested all the money he left me. Currently, it sits in a trust for you and Skye until your respective twenty-first birthdays,” Dad explained. “Grandma isn’t happy about that, and it only seemed to fester her hate.”
“And why she wants Skye out of the picture now?” I asked, numb from everything I just heard. He nodded. “Do you think she’ll ever accept it as done and dusted?”
Dad’s laugh was low, lacking mirth. “Honestly, son, I have no idea—”
“Daddy?”
We turned to find Skye standing at the door, rubbing eyes still filled with sleep.
He went to her and dropped to his haunches. “Hey, Angel.”
She circled his neck. “I want mommy.” Her eyes filled with tears and my heart clenched wanting desperately to grant her wish.
“I’m sorry, Angel,” he whispered, lifting her into his arms, letting her head fall to his shoulder.
Her loud sobs filled the kitchen, reminding us why we stood there discussing my grandmother’s selfish behavior. My father turned helpless eyes on me and Katie. A tear I couldn’t stop, raced down my cheek, falling to the counter in a silent splash. I clenched my fists, agony racing through my veins. What could any of us say that would ease her pain?
Swiping at the second tear, I walked over to where Dad stood. “Blue?” I tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. With her cheek still resting on Dad’s shoulder, she opened her eyes to look at me, her tears a river over the ridge of her nose. “Would you like a Cocochino?”
She shook her head. That squeezed my heart. She’d never turned down her favorite drink before. I dragged a hand through my hair, meeting my father’s eyes over her head. The next couple of days were going to be tough on him.
I wracked my head for something to get her to smile. I needed to get her out of the house even for a short break. “Hey, Blue, would you like ride Bullet?”
That seemed to work. “Really?” Her head snapped up.
Dad’s eyes widened, horror written all over his face. “You think that’s wise...” he trailed off, noticing Skye’s falling smile. “Just be careful, okay.”
Skye clapped her hands as Katie neared us. “Would you like me to change you out of your pjs, honey?” At Skye’s nod, Katie took her from my father’s arms. “We’ll be down in a sec.”
“Not the best suggestion but if it made her smile.” Dad watched them walk away.
“I’ll be careful,” I touched a hand to his shoulder.
Twenty minutes later, sitting in the straddle in front of me, Skye squealed her delight. “Faster, Shay.”
Laughing, I tightened the reins and gently tapped the horse’s flanks. True to his name, Bullet shot off. He was a colt when Dad gave him to me as a birthday present the year he bought the ranch. Thrilled, the horse became my favorite pastime, stealing me away from the video games that had been my previous vice. Dad and I discovered his need for speed the first day I rode him, subsequently leading to his name.
Since Skye was old enough to ride, she’d always wanted to ride Bullet, but our parents forbade it. They worried she’d hurt herself because he was too fast for her to control. Now, watching her laugh uncontrollably, I wondered why I hadn’t done this sooner.
When we dismounted back at the ranch, she helped me brush him down. “Can I take care of him when you go away again?”
“If you promise to never ride him alone, you can.” I tapped a finger to her nose.
“And if I learn to ride him?”
The realization she’d forgotten about Mom for a bit, had me chewing my bottom lip in contemplation. “If I ask Uncle Jim to teach you to ride him, would you let him?” Griffin’s father was just as good a horseman as Dad. While Dad trained stunt horses, Jim gave horse riding lessons at our ranch.
