Chapter 41
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Exhaustion tugs at my mind, trying to pull me under as I grit my jaw and focus on the road.
Another call comes through, interrupting the music on my stereo for the twenty-fifth time since I got off the plane.
The past three hours have been tense and angry.
A flurry of resentment has built inside of me, aimed directly at the company of people I left behind in Nashville.
Maybe that’s unfair. It makes little difference to me right now.
I’m burning up from the inside out, and I won’t cool until I’ve sorted this shit out.
Anna’s my priority. She always will be, even if Garrison and Rita don’t understand it.
Which is putting our parting words really fucking lightly.
Garrison’s growl as he threatened to take everything away from me if I got on that plane still scratches the walls of my mind like nails on a chalkboard.
But clearly, he didn’t deter me. Not only does he not mean it, but I can’t say I’d care right about now even if he did. I don’t put too much more thought into that, though. Not right now.
The ranch gate is open, with my grandfather waiting by the wood fence when I pull up. His posture is stiff, his face unreadable. Preparing myself for a verbal kick in the ass for letting Anna get dragged into the mess of my life, I unlock the truck door for him.
He hops up and in, setting his hat on the centre seat beside mine. I wait for it. For the lashing and disappointment, but nothing comes. Silence ripples around us, along something heavy I can’t pinpoint.
“Let’s hear it,” I say, breaking the silence. “Tell me I should have done a better job of shieldin’ her from this part of my life or whatever it is you’re thinkin’. I’ve already beat myself up enough for the both of us.”
“I wasn’t thinking none of that.”
“No?”
He sets his hands on his lap and cracks his knuckles. The wear and tear on his skin is obvious, a lifetime of marks and scars that I don’t know the origin of. Those exterior marks have nothing on the damage inside, though. They never have. We’re similar in that way.
I’ve been bucked off horses and broken bones, swam in shallow lakes and cut my arms on sharp sticks. There are more scars on my palms from rope burn than a schoolteacher has paper cuts. No physical mark has carried more weight than the damage my father’s leaving caused.
I had years with the guy. Years of happy moments and bonding experiences that I’ll never get back. I’ve long since stopped thinking about the pathetic excuse of a man that bailed on his family when they needed him most. When I needed him most.
A boy loses his mother and expects his father to pick up the pieces she left behind. But that’s not what happened here. I haven’t spoken to the man since the day he left, and I hope I never do again.
Unlike me, my grandfather wears the pain of my father’s abandonment right beneath his skin.
Not only did he take my father in and treat him like his own flesh and blood, but he spent years training him to take over the Steele legacy.
It was all for nothing. My packing up and leaving town tore deep.
It left our relationship in tatters and brought him back to the place he was in when my father left, despite how thoroughly he tried to hide it.
I’ve never forgiven myself for that, and he certainly hasn’t forgiven me either.
There’s so much ground to cover and nowhere near enough time.
“I was going to say that I’m proud of you for comin’ home. I’d have done the same thing for your grandmother,” he says.
My throat tightens. It’s been a long time since he’s said that to me. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear it until now.
“You raised me to take care of the people I love. I’m just doin’ that.”
“I taught you a great deal of things, Brody. But you taught me just as many.”
“I don’t think so. Where is this coming from?”
“I was just reminded of who you are instead of who I told myself you were. You taught me a full life of lessons, Brody. I didn’t have a clue how to raise a son.
Your grandmother did most of the raisin’ with your mother, and I always regretted the lack of time I spent with her growin’ up.
She was snatched too soon.” His voice cracks, and my chest splinters.
“She left us her boy, and I have regretted a lot of things in my life, but takin’ my resentment for your father out on you is my worst mistake. ”
I stare out at the outline of the stable up the road. The echo of my mother’s laugh fills every goddamn inch of that place, haunting me the moment I step inside. It’s too much. There are too many memories there that I don’t know how to move past.
It’s unfair to Sky. If I were a better person, I would have given her to another handler years ago.
At least she’d have had the attention she deserved all these years.
More than the brief moments every few weeks or months that I’ve given her when the pain of being without her got too strong.
It’s been twenty years since Mom died. I know Sky’s been taken care of and happy enough to continue loving so damn easily.
But she’s mine, and I don’t have a lot of years left with her.
“I wasn’t easy on you and Grams either,” I say, tearing my eyes from the stable and dropping them in my lap. “You raised me pretty damn well. I think Anna would agree with me on that.”
“That girl is somethin’ else, Brody. Real special. Your momma would have liked her. I never thought I’d see a city girl so excited to try ranch life, but I gotta say, it fits her just right.”
Fuck. The burn in my eyes is a pain in my ass. “I’m too tired to listen to this shit.”
He keeps going, ignoring me. “Should’a told most of it to you a lot sooner. You’ve made me a proud man. Got a boy that wants the world to know his name and isn’t afraid to make it happen. I was just a stubborn old fuck who was blamin’ you for things you never did.”
“I’m not a boy anymore, you know?”
His laugh is watery, and a tear slips from my eye before I can stop it. I swipe it away quickly.
“That’s all you got from that speech?”
I snort. “We don’t do soft and gushy. We never have. But I’m grateful to have had you raise me. You’ve been more of a dad than a grandparent to me for the majority of my life.”
A slap of a hand on my shoulder and then a squeeze. “Drive us up to the house. You’ve got a girl inside chompin’ at the bit for a look at you.”
I put the truck in gear and go heavy on the gas, desperate to see my woman again. “Did she stay with you guys at the main house last night?”
We never had much of a chance to talk last night before she fell asleep. By the time I had my tickets purchased and my shit packed up to go, it was already late. One quick call to check in was all I got before boarding and heading home.
“Yeah. Your grandmother put her up in your old room.”
“Good.”
A pause. “That reporter won’t come back here. He’s probably long gone back to wherever the hell he came from with his tail tucked tight between his legs.”
“He’s from Nashville. Must have been sent up here after I told the label to decline the rest of the requests for statements.”
His voice is hard, stern. “This ain’t your fault, Brody.”
“How is it not? I led them here.”
And if that isn’t the cold hard truth. I brought the media the first time, and I’ve done it again. I’ll do it another dozen times by the time my career comes to an end. It’s unfair, and I’ll feel guilty about it for the rest of my life.
“They lead themselves here on a damn witch hunt. This isn’t on you, and we all know it. Anna knows it too.”
“What am I supposed to say to her? I can’t promise this won’t happen again.”
“So don’t. She doesn’t expect that from you. There’s no doubt in that woman’s mind about you. Not your career and not what might come from it. She knows who you are. Has for a while now.”
I’m as convinced as I’ll ever be without speaking to her myself.
“Thanks, Grandpa,” I say, and I mean it.
He nods, and we reach the house a beat later. My limbs are weighed down as I step out of the truck, but the moment the screen door flies open and Anna appears in the doorway, I’m more awake than I’ve ever been.
She stands there staring at me for a long, strained moment, and then her boots are clunking down the stairs. We don’t run to one another; we don’t rush. I wait for her like it’s the most natural thing in the world, taking her in my arms when she gets close enough for me to smell her perfume.
“You’re actually back,” she breathes, face buried in the crook of my neck.
I wrap my arms fully around her body and kiss her head over and over again. The fur collar of her jacket tickles my jaw, and I lean into that feeling, not giving a rat’s ass at the discomfort of it.
“Only place I want to be is right here,” I reply softly.
“I told myself I’d pretend to be upset with you for coming back, but I’m too happy to do that right now.”
“You can give me shit later, sweetheart.”
I lower her to her feet and release my hold enough she can slip from my arms. Her grin is blinding, cheeks pink from a mix of the cold and her signature flush.
She’s wearing my jacket unzipped, exposing the ratty jean overalls beneath, tucked into the tops of her boots.
I blink repeatedly, checking her out in the new clothes.
“Been playin’ in the mud?” I ask, both dumbfounded and surprisingly hard.
“More like hay and cow shit. Wade was helping me muck out Banana’s shed this morning.”
I glance at my grandfather. He looks right back, an unmistakable pride sparkling in his eyes that hits me right in the gut.
“She’s better at it than you ever were,” he says.
Anna beams. “Thank you, Wade.”
“Don’t let him slack off on the muckin’, darlin’. Put his ass to work with that damn cow of yours,” Grandpa tells her.
I laugh, holding Anna close. “That damn cow of ours is growin’ on you, old man. I’d bet it’s only a matter of time until she’s parked up in the house with you and Grams on the daily.”