Chapter 29
Tristan
“Do you know where Dad is?” Harper asks as I’m cleaning my horse’s hoof.
“It wasn’t my turn to watch him.”
“Are you busy?” The annoyance in her voice causes me to look up.
I stare at her for a second. “No, not busy, I’m just…sitting around, hanging out, thinking of starting a book club.”
“Oh, good, then you can help look for Dad.”
Letting go of the horse’s leg, I stand and sigh. “Harper, you’re the one who wanted the job of running the front office so that you could keep an eye on him.”
“Yes, well, as the front office manager and babysitter of the old man who refuses to be an old man, I’m trying. He said he was going out to the coop since Sadie is gone. That was two hours ago.”
“Two hours?” I ask on a groan. “He could be doing anything.”
She raises her brows and throws her hands out. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“Well, we’d better go fucking find him and pray he hasn’t destroyed something or killed anyone.”
The two of us split up, figuring we can call the other if we find him. We have hundreds of acres, and he could be anywhere. I go into the barn, calling his name, but he’s not there. Next I check the training area. Maybe he’s with Roni or Fallon.
And a big fat nope on that.
My phone pings, and I pray it’s my sister who found him.
Harper
Any luck?
Nope.
Harper
Great. Okay, I’m going to get the four-wheeler and go out farther.
I’ll get the side-by-side.
Time to expand the search area.
Once in the vehicle, I go to the coop again—it really would be the more likely spot—with no luck. Then I tell my other sisters to check the house and buildings around it, just in case.
With the entire ranch now searching, surely he’ll turn up.
I get a little farther into one of the fields where the horses graze, and then I see it.
The damn tractor moving.
I grab my phone and text Harper.
I found him. He’s on the tractor in the pasture. I might kill him.
Harper
We have plenty of land to bury the body. Godspeed.
I take a few deep breaths and then drive out there. When I get alongside him, he turns his head the other way, as though he doesn’t see me.
“Dad!” I yell, knowing he probably can’t hear me over the noise of the tractor and the music he’s blaring because he’s half deaf.
He keeps going, as John Denver sings about being a country boy.
Ugh. I slow down, going behind and coming up on the other side, where, again, he pretends he doesn’t see me.
That’s it. I’m going to jail today for a crime I actually will commit.
The only option is to get in the tractor’s damn cab. I pull the side-by-side off along the fence a bit in front of him and wait. He’s got the bushhog going, so he has to at least mow in a certain direction.
Or so I thought.
Right when I’m close enough to jump up, he makes a hard right.
“Fucking hell, Dad!”
Abandoning the side-by-side, I take off running as he serpentines around the field, completely fucking up the damn pasture, and I see his shit-eating grin. Finally, I’m able to get close enough where I won’t cut my damn foot off as I race around the tractor and up to the door.
As soon as I’m there, he pushes the lock down.
“Dad! Open the door.”
He bobs his head to the music and smiles as though this is the perfect day.
I swear, there’s a reason I haven’t put him in a home—I just can’t seem to remember it.
I slap the glass with one hand while holding on to the handlebar with the other so I don’t fall off. “Do you want me to put you in the senior center? I’ll do it.”
That gets him. He turns the music down and cracks the window. “Tristan? Is that you?”
I grit my teeth. “You know it’s me. You may be a lot of things, but you’re not stupid. Stop the tractor.”
“Can’t do that, son. I got work to do.”
“Dad, this is the wrong pasture to mow.”
“Huh?”
“Open the door.”
“Sorry, no can do.”
“Dad!” I shout. “Unlock the door.”
He smiles up at me. “I would, but I won’t.”
Days like this, I question all my life choices. Why didn’t I just sell the ranch and move?
Anywhere.
“You’re mowing the wrong pasture,” I try again. Maybe at least if he’s going to be obstinate, he can do it in the right place.
“No, I’m not. You forgot to rotate this one.”
I glance up at the sky. “Deliver me.” Some days are harder than others when you’re trying to raise your parents. “This one is where the horses were coming to graze next week. Please, Dad, stop the tractor.”
Like the lights coming back on after a power outage, he blinks and then slows the tractor.
Finally.
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He purses his lips. “I think this one had better hay than the one you wanted to mow.”
Half the damn field is ruined now, so it’s pretty much useless for what I had planned. I could argue, make him feel bad, scream about how he gave up his right to run the ranch, but that would only break him.
I don’t want to break my father.
I want him to be happy, to live on the land he loves as much as his family, where Momma is buried. Where he feels alive because this place is as vital to him as air.
So, berating him is out of the question.
“Can you unlock the door and come look at it with me?” I ask, changing gears to get him out of the machine.
“Is this a trick?”
Untrusting old goat.
I roll my eyes. “It’s not a trick. Jesus, show me what you mean about the hay being better.”
My father turns the tractor off completely—a good sign—and then unlocks the door.
I step down off the side and wait for him to leave the cab of the tractor.
He watches me—warily. “All right, show you what?”
I think back to the roof incident, where he just wanted to be needed or impart some wisdom. With Sadie gone, he’s more alone than usual, and all of us are busy since we’re in breeding season. We had a lot of successful pregnancies, and that means a lot more work.
“Show me why you think this field is better than the other one.”
He perks up at being able to tell me what to do. Lord knows that’s his favorite pastime.
“You see the way the color is here?” He points to the rich green grass.
“Yes.”
“There will be more fiber in that. And you see here?” Dad walks over to some alfalfa growing.
“This is right at the peak. If you let it go longer, it won’t be good.
We can cut this for hay, store it, and have better options in the winter.
If you let them graze, they’ll never eat it all, and it’ll spoil or be trampled. ”
I nod. There’s wisdom in what he says, but the other field has the same type of hay planted.
“Okay, then we’ll cut this one and let them graze on the other,” I give in.
I can hear my mother in my head, telling me to pick my battles wisely.
I’m trying, Ma.
“I knew you’d see reason.”
I stare at him for that one. “Yeah, Dad, it’s all thanks to you.”
He laughs once and claps me on the shoulder. “One day you’ll catch on. You gotta rotate the fields, keep them fresh.”
“Got it.”
“I’m sure you’ll screw it up. It’s a good thing I’m here to keep an eye on things.”
Yes, the blessing we never asked for.
“Uh-huh,” I say, hoping the sarcasm isn’t completely obvious. “All right, why don’t you finish mowing? I’ll head back and get the hay attachments and we can finish up the field.”
“Good plan.” He smiles brightly, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“Hey, Pop?” I call as he’s walking back to the tractor. “Please go in a straight line this time.”
He grins. “What’s the fun in that? Life is all about the twists and turns.”
Then he climbs up and goes in a circle.
“Are you having fun, Cupcake?” I ask as my daughter’s face fills the screen.
It’s been almost two weeks without Sadie, and the house feels empty without her. She may have attitude for days, but she makes things better.
“Not as much as I’d have at horse camp.”
And there’s my girl. “Well, okay then.”
She laughs. “I’m kidding, Daddy. Kind of. Yes, I’m having fun, but I’m ready to come home. How are the chickens? Cloud? Anyone get arrested since I’ve been gone?”
“Good. Fine. And no. Not yet, at least. It seems things have stopped, so we haven’t had any reasons to be arrested. Your grandad did steal the tractor and go on a joyride in the wrong pasture.”
Her smile widens. “Of course he did. He’s probably lonely without me.”
“I’m one hundred percent sure that’s true. I miss you too.”
“I’m sure you do. I’m pretty amazing.”
I roll my eyes. “And annoying.”
“That’s true. Not that you’re all that easygoing, but anyway, things are fine here. We’re going to Lake Powell for the rest of the week. I’m not at all excited about sleeping in a tent and not having access to showers.”
I shudder. “I bet not.”
“Yes, well, this is the camp you chose for me. I promise, I will have my payback.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I tell her, with all the confidence that she will absolutely do that. “What are you up to now?”
“Just hanging out. We have a campfire soon, and they told us to call home because we probably won’t have service when we go camping.”
“However will you survive?”
“I won’t, and it’ll be your fault,” Sadie says without pause.
A teenager without their phone means imminent death or boredom that will lead to destruction. I have no doubt about that. I don’t envy the camp counselors who are going to be dealing with the kids.
I grin. “I’ll live with the guilt.”
“When I get back, can we please do something fun?” Sadie asks.
The fact that she still likes being around me makes me happy. I’m pretty sure by this age, the absolute last thing I wanted to do was be around my parents. Not that my dad was half as cool as I am, but still.
“I’d love that. Any ideas?”
“Yes, I’d love a ride out on the ridge.”
My chest tightens as I think of what the ridge has become. What I do there. Who I see. The way I feel when I know I’m heading there. Like I am as soon as I’m off this call.
I don’t know how I feel about any of it. The horse again, the ridge, the entire thing. I also know she’s putting me on the spot, and I don’t really appreciate that.
Then I think about the constant nagging of my sisters and father to let her ride again.
Like always, my mind goes back to the accident. The way she looked, the pain, the aftermath.
There’s no right answer. Or maybe there is, but I’m just not ready to give it.
“If I agree to this, and that’s a big if, it won’t be Cloud.”
Her eyes widen. “Okay.”
“I mean it, Sadie. Don’t start trying to negotiate with me. If I sense even a hint of manipulation, I’ll say no immediately. And again, this is a big if.”
“I hear you, Dad! No problem. We’ll talk, and if you say yes, I will ride whatever horse you want. I promise.”
I exhale heavily, needing to think about all of this. “All right. I’ll see you in a week?”
“One week, and I will be showering for at least a day after because…eww.”
I laugh. “Deal. I love you.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
Yeah, unless I break her heart again by saying she can’t ride.