Chapter Twenty-Two
Early the following day, Grover sipped coffee as he watched Mabel prepare breakfast. “I’m going to town this morning.
I need to talk with Bonner.” The berating letter from Cornelius Bonner had made Grover’s blood boil.
How dare a father treat his grown son with such disdain.
Their conversation the day Cornelius came to the ranch meant nothing to him.
The man had no heart. The entire letter was nothing but criticism.
Mabel raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure confronting Bonner is wise?”
“Honey, the man thinks of his son as property. Felix is among the most talented, intelligent, hard-working men I’ve ever known.
He has thrived this summer in an atmosphere of love and support.
” Grover huffed. “I’m so proud of him for what he has done.
” He took a breath to stem his emotions.
Felix wasn’t his flesh and blood, but watching the change from the timid, uncertain teenager who rode with him to the ranch that first day to the accomplished, proud man he became filled Grover with fatherly pride.
“Nothing in that letter said he cared a wit about Felix. If his father had encouraged him instead of making things difficult, there is no telling how far he could have gone. And for Felix not to attend college is unacceptable. Anybody who can walk onto our ranch a total greenhorn and, less than six weeks later, set a record in calf roping at the rodeo shows both talent and brilliance.”
“As you read that letter aloud, I heard the anger in your voice. I know you well enough to understand why you wouldn’t let it go without a plan to protect Felix.”
“Standing in our parlor, Cornelius said Felix’s accomplishments meant nothing to him.
His statement shocked me. How can a father not be proud of his children’s amazing performances?
Yesterday’s letter was a slap in the face, and I need to let Cornelius know his letter was inappropriate.
It breaks my heart to see Felix treated that way.
And you heard him after I read the letter.
He sobbed into my shoulder. He thinks he did something wrong. ”
“I know, and it hurts me too. It’s nice that Felix has us in his corner. Just be careful.”
Boot steps clomped down the stairs as the two young cowboys came down for breakfast.
“Don’t tell them. I don’t want them to know,” Cornelius whispered.
“Okay, but promise to tell me how it went when you get back.”
“I will,” Grover reached out to hug Mabel.
She swatted his hands away. “I have three hungry men to feed.”
“Good morning.” Grover smiled at his two sons. “You two sleep okay?”
“We slept fine, Pa.” Joey sat in his usual chair.
“Are you doing all right this morning, Felix?” If Felix was spiraling into another depression like he did after the last letter from his father, Grover needed to stop it.
Felix grinned. “I’m doing great, Pa, and I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” Joey chimed in.
“Okay…okay…breakfast coming up in a minute.” Mabel placed strips of bacon in the big cast-iron skillet on the kerosene stove. The hiss of bacon on hot metal preceded the aroma that filled the kitchen, making their stomachs growl.
Mabel sliced homemade bread and put a plate full on the table, along with a bowl of butter. The men each grabbed a slice of bread, took a knife from the spooner, and helped themselves to the butter.
Soon the bacon was done, and Mabel cracked two eggs apiece into the hot bacon grease in the skillet, stirring everything up to make scrambled eggs. Minutes later, she served breakfast, and they all dug in.
As she buttered her bread, Mabel eyed the two young men. “What do you two cowboys have planned for today?”
“We need to do the branding in a couple of days. You might show Felix the tools and give him an idea of how branding works, Joey.” Grover lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth.
“Good idea, Pa. We can practice on an old log.”
Felix glanced at Joey. “What do we do with an old log?”
“We use it so you will get a feel for how to brand,” Joey said.
“I’ll be gone for a while this morning,” Grover said. “I have business in town to take care of, but I’ll be back for lunch.”
“Okay, Pa. Felix and I will keep ourselves busy.”
* * *
Grover walked into Bonner’s Dry Goods. “Bonner…we need to talk.” His voice boomed loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
Cornelius worked behind the counter. “What do you want, Sterling?” He didn’t look at Grover.
“First of all, here’s two bits for the glass vase you charged Felix for.” He tossed a quarter toward Cornelius from five feet away. “It’s probably worth more than the vase, but keep it. I don’t want you claiming your own son cheated you.”
“So my son sent you?” Anger showed in his voice and expression. “Didn’t he have the guts to come in and face me?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here, Bonner. And if you want to talk about no guts, you have some nerve sending that berating letter to Felix. Obviously, our last conversation meant nothing to you.”
“I’ll send whatever kind of letter I want to my son, Sterling. And as for our conversation, what I do with my son is none of your business.”
“When you abandoned Felix, it became my business.”
A crowd began to gather outside the store's front entrance. Raised voices always attracted curious onlookers.
Cornelius huffed, aimed a glare at Grover, and shouted. “Who said I abandoned my son?”
“He told us what you said, that if he left, he was never to come back. I say that was definite abandonment.” Grover roared back.
“Did you ever consider my son might be lying?”
“Felix doesn’t know how to lie; if he did, he probably learned it from you.”
“So you’re calling me a liar now, Sterling?” The shouting match continued.
“Let me tell you something, Bonner, if you ever send another letter like that…a letter berating your own son…the son that you never call by name, by the way…I’m coming into town, and we will take it outside.
You will learn to show respect if I have to use my fists to beat it into you.
” Grover stormed out of the store, ending the shouting match. The crowd scattered as he rushed past.
* * *
Cornelius moved to the door, nodding at the onlookers. He watched as Grover stomped through the gathered crowd, mounted his horse, and rode away. I have him right where I want him. Cornelius chuckled with an evil grin. We’ll see who has the last word in THIS argument.