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“I don’t know about that. He wanted me to build a life outside Deer Creek so badly, I can’t imagine he’s happy I’m back, let alone with the decision I made to fix his place up.”
“So, you decided on staying?”
Maggie nodded to the cart that housed half her list of supplies. “I did. I don’t know if it’s nostalgia or stubbornness, but I can’t let it go like this. He’d hate that.”
“Ah, well, I doubt that. He was always goin’ on about you, Margaret. How proud he was, how much it was worth it, seeing you live your dreams.”
“How much of what was worth it?”
“Your schooling.”
Maggie gripped her list like it was a lifeline. Her dad’s silence where their finances were concerned fluttered in, making too much sense after all this time.
“Harvey, did my dad pay for my college?”
Harvey shrugged, the matter obvious to him. “Well, yeah. Of course. Thought you knew all that.”
Maggie shook her head and unfolded her list. No, she hadn’t. But it threw the disrepair into harsh light. All the broken parts, the cracked machinery—it was all her fault.
“I thought I had a scholarship. DCHS handed me the certificate.”
Harvey’s cheeks turned flambeau red. “You did. Just, he wasn’t expecting all the fees and the price of housing in Houston.”
Fees? Housing? God, how hadn’t she thought to ask about all of that? She’d just put her head down and studied without thinking to ask where the money was coming from. Of course, he would have made sure she never needed to ask. That was her dad, a hero behind the curtains.
Her chest squeezed tight.
“Shucks. I’m sorry to share somethin’ like that. I just always figured you knew where the money came from.”
“It’s not your fault. He probably didn’t expect me to come back and find out. Is that why he couldn’t keep his ranch hands, Harvey?”
Harvey nodded, and Maggie’s chest ached under the weight of it all.
“Bennett Marshall helped out a bit, but your dad nixed that after a few months. Said he had to handle it on his own.”
“But I was there. We made plans to modernize his tractors, feed stalls—all of it. Why didn’t he tell me how bad it was when he knew I could fix it?”
“I suspect he thought he had time to right the ship. We’re all guilty of that, aren’t we? Thinking we’re gonna get all the chances in the world?”
“Yeah, sure.” Her chest heaved with loss.
“Sorry, Margaret.”
Maggie was about to tell Harvey it wasn’t his fault her past was raining down on her like a category five hurricane, but the bells announced another customer’s arrival.
“Well, speak of the devil,” Harvey said. “If I’d’ve known I’d be hosting a reunion, I might’ve sprung for some of Mae’s punch.” He hugged Maggie and nodded his goodbyes.
Maggie turned around and wiped at her eyes, which were damp with memories she couldn’t escape. Speak of the devil, indeed.
“Bennett,” she said, moving past him toward the fencing supplies.
“Maggie. Thought I might find you here.”
“You came looking for me?”
He shook his head, his smile amplified by the fact that some time in the past twenty-four hours, he’d shaved. Maggie tried not to look too closely, lest her fickle heart remind her what those lips and smooth skin felt like against hers. Some time may have passed, but not near enough to forget that.
“Nope. Came looking for this,” he said, showing off a pewter socket wrench, “and got you as a bonus.”
