Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Hollie
Seventeen Years Old
Dad entered my bedroom and softly closed the door behind him. “Hey, Jolly girl.” Even though his lips quirked up on one side, his eyes didn’t smile. “Thanks for letting me have a minute.”
“Anything for you.” I tried to smile, too.
He dragged my desk chair closer to the side of my bed where I sat against the headboard.
With a deep sigh, he sat down, not looking me in the face.
Watching his lips twitch as he fought emotions tore my heart to pieces.
It had been three whole weeks since my blow-up in the living room.
And they were some of the rockiest weeks of my life.
I constantly held my breath, waiting for the moment when doors would slam, Mom and Dad would scream, or Dad would roll a suitcase out to his Toyota truck.
But it never came.
Things were quiet. Eerily so.
Mom’s dealings with me stayed at a minimum. She didn’t raise her voice at me, didn’t ask for help with the other kids. She wouldn’t even look at me. She’d lost weight, her cheeks turned pale, and purple circles formed beneath her eyes.
Maybe I should’ve felt sorry for her, but I didn’t.
Everything I had idolized about her—evaporated. Every ounce of my respect—gone.
Finally, he said, “I wanted to talk with you, one on one, before talking to the family.”
Relief flooded my chest. Thank goodness he would finally tell the family what happened. I was on the verge of exploding all the time with the effort of trying to hold it in. My inability to cope with it all was hurting my relationships with my siblings.
“It’s about Peter’s doctor appointment.”
“What?” My head snapped up, my brow knitting in confusion. “I thought this was about—”
His inhale trembled. “Please, just listen. I know you have questions about Mom and I, but this is a lot more important.”
I sat up as my arms erupted in chills. “Is…is Peter okay?”
“I hope so. The doctor said Peter’s blood work looks suspicious for leukemia.”
I gasped. “What?”
He held his hand out to stop my spiral. “A bone marrow test is needed to be sure, but—”
“No, that can’t be. He’s just been tired. He’ll be—”
Dad swallowed, frustrated with me for interrupting again. “Hollie.”
I stopped.
“Please listen.”
I nodded.
“We won’t know if he does or doesn’t until his bone marrow test results are in.
But I’m telling you now because we’re going to need your help this week.
They had a cancellation and can get him in for a biopsy on Monday.
I need you to plan to stay home Monday and Tuesday and help with the littles after school and make dinner, okay? ”
“Okay.”
He looked down again. “Your mom doesn’t want to ask you for help.”
“So you’re asking me.”
“I want you to take the initiative and help with your siblings when I’m not home.”
“I don’t want to help her, Dad.”
“I would help her myself, but I have a shipment due Thursday that I cannot get out of. After that, I’ll be home a lot more. Because…I’m quitting.”
“Quitting?”
“I need to find something closer to home so I can be with my family. If Peter has luekemia…”
“He doesn’t have leukemia, Dad.” Even as I said the words, denial’s fingers squeezed out my voice. “Th–there’s no way.”
He drew a deep breath. “Regardless. I’m needed at home.”
“Because of Mom? You have to quit your job because of Mom?”
He shook his head. “I’m quitting because my priorities have been out of whack for a long time.”
I scoffed. “You’re quitting because if you’re not in bed every night, Mom will replace you.” I wished I could slap the words back into my mouth. I didn’t want to hurt Dad more than he already hurt.
“Things weren’t going well between us for a long time. But instead of fixing it, I turned to work. These are the consequences. I’m learning the hard way.”
“Dad!” I blurted. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“I’m not blaming myself. I’m trying to fix what I should’ve fixed a long time ago.”
Hot tears welled in my eyes. “You’re staying to–together?”
“As long as your mom wants, yes.”
I shook my head. “So, you’ll just forget it ever happened?”
“No, of course not. But your Mom has asked me to forgive her and agreed to marriage counseling.”
“But what she did was unforgivable.”
“So what, Hollie?” Dad sat up straighter, looking me dead in the eye.
“You want me to leave? Blow apart our family because I’m hurt and angry?
” He took a heavy breath. “It would be different if she wanted to leave. But she doesn’t.
She wants to work it out. None of this ever would’ve happened if I had listened to her in the first place. ”
It took all my self-control not to explode with rage. “About what?”
He sighed, the sound shaky and hollow. “She tried to tell me a lot of times that she needed more help and was having trouble with her mental health, but I didn’t listen, Hollie. I let my family down by bailing when my teammate needed me.”
My tears broke free, racing down my cheeks. “How could you say that? Nothing excuses Mom for what she did. Nothing!”
“Let me tell you something about men, Hollie.” He looked at me, a layer of deep tears welling in his own eyes.
“Men are the thermostat in a relationship. And…I let us grow cold. After Estelle was born, your mom struggled a lot. She was knee-deep in little kids, crying herself to sleep every night, and she asked me for help. But I was off chasing a dollar. Her finding help…somewhere else…was the overflow of my neglect. I’m supposed to guard her heart and keep it safe, but I didn’t.
So, if you’re going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me.
I let us down by driving highways that took me further and further from the only thing that really mattered. ”
My jaw was on the floor.
He could not be serious.
“So, as long as she wants to stay and give me another chance to love her better, I’ll give her that chance, too.
That’s why I’m quitting my job. I’ll find a quarry and drive a dump truck for a while or maybe pick up some contract work.
Things will be tighter financially, but it won’t be forever.
We’ll have to say no to some things, but fixing us is a lot more important. ”
I stared at him—unmoving, unblinking.
“I know that’s a lot to process.” He patted his thighs like he was about to stand. “We will tell the kids about Peter soon. In the meantime, talk to him. He’s in his room. They just got home a little bit ago, and he’s afraid.”
“And when will you tell them what happened between you and Mom?”
“We won’t.” He stood, his stern gaze falling on me. “And neither will you.”
I wanted to protest, but I knew arguing was pointless.
“There’s no point in scaring the kids about Mom and I. If things…” His voice faltered. “If, God forbid, Peter really does have leukemia, everyone will be plenty scared without adding adult problems into the equation. You understand?”
Reluctantly, I nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Alright. You dancing tonight?” He glanced at my bedroom clock. Quarter til seven.
“I plan to.”
He leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Have fun. And be careful out there.”
“I will, Daddy.”
I looked up at him and he smiled down at me, his eyes full of tears. “I love you.”
Present Day - June
“Good morning, Cooper.” I brought his plate and coffee to the porch table.
As usual, he had a cap on. Backwards again today. “Morning.”
This weekend, he was the only one I had to feed.
Harlan had a weekend off since there were only a few horses at the ranch.
The majority of them went with Tag and Jesse to a huge rodeo in Rio Grande.
They’d left early Thursday morning, which relieved my stress levels.
Ever since our conversation on Tuesday afternoon, I’d avoided Jesse.
He even tried to flag me down a few times, but I ignored him.
My emotional stability was precarious as is, and I couldn’t afford another meltdown if I wanted to do my job at Meadowbrook well.
And I wanted to because I loved cooking for everyone, caring for the guests, looking out for Bea, and taking afternoon strolls with the girls.
For the first time in my adult life, I felt like I had a purpose outside of my children.
Serving everyone was somehow filling my cup.
And I didn’t want to waste my stamina on a stupid argument with Jesse—who was a danger zone in every respect.
I was far safer with Cooper, who loved my company.
By Saturday morning, Cooper and I had a routine.
I’d warm up his breakfast, make a cup of coffee, and chat with him on the porch while he ate.
Cooper was, without a doubt, crass and rude and possessed no filter whatsoever—he honestly reminded me of Jackie—but I liked his quirks.
Since I was the only person who knew about his bird hobby, I made sure to ask him lots of questions, and Cooper was eager to talk.
We were discussing the endangered golden-cheeked warblers when Cooper’s phone rang. He brushed the biscuit crumbs stuck to his hands onto his jeans, picked it up off the table, and frowned at the screen. After a few beats of confusion, he swallowed. “I…I need to get this.”
“Sure.” I squeezed my mug of coffee closer to my chest. “Go ahead.”
He swiped across the screen and lifted his phone to his ear. “Hello?”
I couldn’t hear much, but it was definitely a peppy male voice on the other line.
A breath of air rushed from Cooper’s lungs. “Wait.”
The voice stopped.
“Is this Greg?”
I heard a canned, but distinct well who else would it be through the phone.
I had no idea who Greg was—but Cooper obviously did.
My heart flopped as the blood drained from his face.
Cooper rolled his lips, his eyes cutting to the driveway.
In the blink of an eye, he had shriveled up.
His aura had shredded, leaving him looking very much like a frightened boy and not the confident man educating me about warblers.
Cooper struggled to stand up, the toe of his boot catching on the bench as he tried to step away from the table. He faltered, caught his footing, hissing into the phone. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling me?”
I stood, following Cooper toward the end of the porch, my heart pounding in my chest. Whoever called him was bad news. It was written all over his face.
He stepped off the porch and charged through the barnyard toward the bunkhouse.
The gravel crunching beneath his feet drowned out his words.
He didn’t look back, just disappeared through the bunkhouse door.
For a moment, I stood there, waiting for him to come out.
He’d only eaten a little of his breakfast, and hadn’t even touched his coffee yet.
Five minutes later, I began to pace the wraparound porch.
Something was wrong.
Why was he not coming back?
Fifteen minutes later, I crossed the barnyard and stepped up the stairs to the bunkhouse door. I lifted my fist, about to knock, but stopped. I didn’t really know Cooper. Why was I making his phone call my business? I hesitated, my knuckles hovering over the door, when I heard Cooper’s voice.
“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I think I could do that.”
I stopped breathing to hear better.
“I could call you when I’m on my way?”
Silence.
“Yep. Sounds good…Alright. Talk soon.”
Floorboards creaked as Cooper moved in the house. I scrambled down the steps but it was too late to escape. His eyes fell on me as he opened the door, and his words came out like venom. “What are you doing?”
“I—I came to check on you because you didn’t finish your breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
His shoulders were pulled tight, his breathing heavy, and sweat had beaded on his brow beneath the rim of his hat. And I knew for fact the cowboys kept that bunkhouse at arctic temperatures. Feeble courage pulled a whisper out of my mouth. “You’re lying.”
He narrowed his eyes like he didn’t trust his hearing. “What?”
“You said you’re fine but you’re not fine.”
He said nothing, instant rage flickering beneath his icy expression.
I pressed. “Who was that?”
“Why is that your problem?”
“It’s not. I’m just asking as a concerned friend.”
“Save your energy.” He turned his shoulders, brushing past me at the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t have any friends.”
With that, he stalked off to the barn and I returned to my duties.