Page 71 of If I Didn’t Have You

My blood boiled at his words for a moment before I realized he was right. I was looking for a damn weak point so I could say I told you so. Fuck, what kind of father wanted his son to fail?

“God, I’m a bastard.”

“Sometimes,” he chuckled. “This will work, Pop. We’ll find our stride, and you’ll see, we’ll turn this around.”

I clasped him on the shoulder, feeling like such an ass. “I know it will. You did good.”

“You know, there’s always room for you. I never wanted to take over.”

“But you did, and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. You’ll do this ranch proud.”

I headed back to the truck, feeling a little less dejected than when I arrived.

I hadn’t been up and functioning at this hour in a long time. I wasn’t even sure why I listened to Sam and came. It wasn’t like I owed him anything. Call it curiosity. What exactly did he want me here at five o’clock in the morning for?

So, when I arrived in my usual attire and he smirked at me, I knew I should have stayed in bed.

“Figured you’d show up like that.” He tossed a gym bag at me that I just barely caught before it smacked me in the face. “Go change.”

“Say what?”

“Well, you can’t run in that.”

I looked down at my clothes, then back at him. “Run?”

“Come on,” he grinned, going through a line of stretches. “We’re burning daylight.”

I laughed, tossing the bag back at him. “I don’t think so.”

“No? So you like being a flabby old man?”

My eyes narrowed at the insult. Flabby, I was not. Mostly. I might not be the muscular kid I once was, but I was nearing sixty. I was allowed to be a little soft around the edges.

Just thinking the words was enough to change my mind. I strode back into the locker room and changed into the running clothes he’d packed for me, along with a pair of tennis shoes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d put on something even closely resembling this. Probably when I was in high school in gym class.

By the time I walked out, I was seriously questioning my sanity. I had to be going crazy to even consider what was about to happen. But I was no quitter.

Well, there was a time I hadn’t been a quitter.

It seemed like all I did now was walk away from things. I hadn’t been working on the house. I hadn’t seen my wife in over a week. Hell, I hadn’t paid attention to the ranch for so long.

“So, what are we doing?”

“Going for a run. Don’t worry. I’ll start out slow,” he grinned.

“Fucking great,” I muttered, following him out the door.

So, I jogged, but he kept kicking up the pace until I was panting hard, feeling sick to my stomach. Running was not something I ever wanted to do again, but every time Sam looked over his shoulder and laughed at me, I pushed harder, refusing to give up. I would not fail at this.

I didn’t know how long we ran for, but when the sun had been up for a while now, that meant it had been at least forty minutes. My lungs burned and my legs were cramping, but I refused to give in. Not even when it felt like I was about to have a heart attack.

Luckily, he stopped before I passed out. When he handed me water this time, I didn’t even attempt to drink it. I was breathing too hard, and the spots dancing in front of my eyes made it pretty damn clear that I needed to slow my heart down before I attempted anything else.

“Stretch it out,” he said, walking through a series of exercises.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re gonna cramp,” he taunted.