Chapter Nine
MASON
NO AMOUNT of staring or brushing my hand against her last night or at the breakfast table this morning was getting Sloane’s attention. She seems to have made it her goal to avoid me. Maybe I should just take the loss and move on, but the incredible attraction that I have to her won’t let me.
My year-long absence from home feels like several years as I step out onto the back porch and look around the property. In the distance to the North are the usually green, rolling hills, but everything is brown and grey for the winter.
Down the slope, behind Marley’s stables to the West, and the barn and Dad’s stables to the North is the small, slow-moving river that connects to the Arkansas River north of Tulsa.
We all used to fish in that river when we were kids, especially off the one-lane bridge that Dad built for us to drive the ATVs across.
The story is that our great-great-great-grandfather built the original portion of our house for his Native American bride and she picked out this spot close to the river.
I don’t know if our mother was romanticizing the story or not, but since a white man marrying a Native American woman was against the rules in his family, he walked away from his family for her.
After the Trail of Tears and the infighting of the Cherokee Tribe during the Civil War, she found herself without family and tribe, and in an encampment in Indian Territory. That’s where she met a Civil War soldier stationed at the encampment.
According to my mother, they fell head-over-ass in love and ran away together, hiding in the hills until the war was over.
He built her this house with the promise that he would spend the rest of his life making her happy.
I can still remember the look on my mom’s face when she would tell that story, it was the same adoring look she would give my dad.
The thought of Sloane looking at me with that kind of adoration brings a smile to my face.
Barking from Wilson pulls my attention to the stable, when Lainey Rai is at school, Wilson is usually at Gray’s heels.
Gray is leading one of the stallions from the stable to the adjoining paddock for him to get some sun and exercise.
As soon as he unhooks the bridle, the horse trots in the opposite direction shaking his head.
Half of the horses in the stable are ours and the other half are boarded for whatever reason, Lainey Rai was talking about the stallion this morning at breakfast and wanted to make sure she got to see him before she left for school. That girl has a love affair with horses just like her aunt Marley.
Behind me in the kitchen, I hear glass shattering, and my dad curse so I step in to check on him. He’s looking at shards of glass around his feet with a jug of orange juice in his other hand. He glances at me and scowls as he forcefully sets the juice carton in the counter.
“Butterfingers?” I joke as I step into the pantry and grab the broom and dustpan.
“The damn thing was still wet from the dishwasher.” Just then Sloane rushes around the corner and looks over my dad and then at me.
Our gaze connects for a few seconds longer than necessary before she looks back to my dad, “Are you okay?”
According to Marley, Sloane found Dad collapsed in the stable when he didn’t show up for lunch and she went looking for him.
Gray had gone into town with the other ranch hand and she was here by herself.
I’ve noticed that she keeps a sharp eye on my dad and a couple of times he has squeezed her shoulder as he walks by her, like he does Marley, Kinley, or Breanna.
He softly pats her on the shoulder and says, “I’m fine, go back to what you were doing. I just dropped a glass.”
“Oh, I’ll clean it up for you.” She says and walks to me with her hands outstretched to take the broom and dustpan.
Turning away from her with a grin on my face, I say, “I can handle a little glass on the floor.”
She drops her hands and those beautiful green eyes connect to mine, at first I see a smile but then her gaze drops to my hands and a stone mask appears over her face, confusing the hell out of me.
Looking to my dad, the mask drops and the smile comes back, “Okay, well, if you need me, holler.”
“I will, don’t worry about me.”
A sound like, ‘Pfftt’ comes from her as she turns away and leaves the room, my dad chuckles as he looks back down to his feet. “Give me the broom, son.”
“I’ll do it, just move out of the way.” I start pushing the outlying shards toward the center where he is standing.
Grabbing the carton of orange juice, he pulls another glass from the cabinet and steps out of my way. I’m quiet for a minute and trying to sound conversational, I say, “Where did you find her, did Opal recommend her?”
Without looking up from his task, he says, “Something like that.”
Bullshit.
“Is she related to Opal?” I keep my head down like I’m more interested in sweeping up all the small shards.
“Not that I know of.” He lifts his glass and starts to down the contents.
My BS-ometer is in the red as I realize that my dad is hiding something from me. I stop sweeping for a second and watch him finish his OJ, “What do you know?”
His empty glass comes down on the counter hard enough that I think he might break that one, too. “I know that I’ve never had any problems with her and she does everything that is required of her. Now, are you done with the interrogation? Can I go back to my office?”
Whoa. Didn’t expect that. I shrug my shoulders, “Sure, I’m not keeping you in here. Last I heard, it’s a free country, Dad.”
With a grunt, he turns and leaves the kitchen. His glass and the carton are still on the counter. Dad never leaves a mess for someone else to clean up, for some reason I flustered him.