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That hurts, that I can’t give him that. Hastily, I bend down to sniff and wipe my eyes. Jamie glances over but says nothing. Serena is staring like she’s in shock. I hate that she hurts inside, but this time, it’s not my place to shelter her from discomfort. We’re both grown now. We both have to keep our chins up, especially if Dad leaves the ranch with us for a while. I can’t do it alone. I’ll need Serena.

And Coen.

I glance back up. Dad has his back to the house. Coen stands facing in, sunglasses on, arms crossed, face sober.

They talk. For a long, long time.

I think about a lot of things. Instead of pushing them down, I put them in a box and set them on the shelf in the corner of my heart. When we have a minute, I’ll take them out and see if Coen wants to sort through them with me.

That’d be a first, having someone to sort through things with.

It takes ages, but eventually, they come back inside. Dad makes his way to the couch in the living room and sinks down. Coen goes to the sink and pours himself a glass of water. Nobody moves. He clears his throat and jerks his head at the front door.

“Jamie,” he says. “Let’s go have a cigarette on the porch.”

They go. I meet Serena’s eyes.

“Dad,” she whispers. “Are you leaving?”

He lets out a rumbling sigh. “Just for a bit, honey. Not forever.”

She starts arguing with him, but I stay exactly where I am. The world is turning into a new phase of life. I can try to grab it and hold on, or I can let it spin through my fingers and be at peace. Things are happening, and for once, I’m not the only one who has to handle it. Coen is handling it. Aunt Eugenia is handling it. Hell, maybe Jamie is out there handling things right now.

All I have to do is hold my breath.

All I have to do is take a chance.

Serena says she’s going upstairs and disappears. I get up and make a pot of coffee. Dad hums, tapping his fingers on his thigh. Briefly, I wonder what Mom said to him on the phone. It’s not my business to know, and it won’t change anything if I hear it. I hate the loss of control, but I just have to hate it and move on.

“You want some coffee, Dad?” I ask.

“Sure, honey,” he says.

I pour him a cup and take it over. When I set it down, he grabs my hand. The eyes that fix on mine are familiar, like the mountains around the ranch, like the sky overhead, the home I’ve always known.

“I like Coen,” he says.

That’s all the apology I’ll get out of him, and I have to let that go too. I’m not sure Dad and I will ever be as close as we were before. This trip, everything with Coen, opened my eyes to a lot of harsh truths.

But I’m happy.

“Yeah, I like him too,” I whisper.

He holds my hand for a while, rough from ranch work. It’s not my place to forgive him for what he did to Mom, but it’s my place to forgive him for what that did to me. I’m not ready to do it yet, but I still love him.

Family is so complicated. A shattered mess, pieced back together again and again, but never the same afterward.

I sit with him for a long time, until Coen and Jamie come back inside.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

COEN

I lay awake for a long time that night. Partly because my brain won’t shut off, partly because Sabrina’s bed is tiny, and we’re both jammed into the dip at the center. I don’t mind. She’s nestled up against me, tucked beneath my arm. Distantly, I hear the cattle low.

I said some pretty harsh things to Bill.

He went in on me, and I looked him dead in the eye and said, “You need to back the fuck off Sabrina.” He went in again, and I took the kill shot.