Page 7

“How’s it been going?” he asked.

“Good.” I continued to keep my hands busy going about my morning tasks. “How was Texas?”

“Signed the closing documents on the land purchase, so things are going to be ramping up.”

“Exciting.” My tone didn’t quite match my words.

“Should’ve done this shit a long time ago, but better late than never.” He took a long gulp from his tumbler. “Did you drop Maple off at her momma’s house?”

“I did.” Here it came, the reason he was popping in.

“And how’s Dial?”

“You know Dial, even when she’s bad, she’s good.”

“Did you two talk about Texas?”

“It didn’t come up.” One of the reasons I barely saw my father was because I’d been actively avoiding this very conversation.

He released a breath. “Ozzie—”

“Dad, I know I said I’d consider going to Texas, but a year is a long time.” Palmer Horse Ranch was planning an expansion, opening up a second facility in Cooper Canyon. And my father wanted me to oversee the day-to-day operations until it was up and running. Truthfully, his ultimate goal was to have me relocate permanently. But Texas was almost a thousand miles away from Hume, which would place me a thousand miles away from Maple and Dial.

“That’s why you need to square things with Maple’s momma. Look, you said you wanted to take more on—well, here it is. This is a big opportunity for us, son. Palmer Horse Ranch needs a secondary site; we’re already spread thin at this single location. Plus, think of the money. You’re always squirrelling shit away for a rainy day and this could go to Maple’s college fund or to finally build that dream home you’re constantly going on about.”

“And I get that. But I don’t think I can be away from her for that long. And I’d be forcing Dial to carry my load… again.” She already believed I’d deserted her after Maple was born, which I one hundred percent didn’t do, but I understood why for her it felt that way.

“When I was your age, I was always on the road. I bounced from one set to the next.”

“And we noticed.” My father would sometimes be gone for months at a time. His definition of being a good dad consisted of our being clothed and fed, with a roof over our heads. Who needs quality time when you have three hots and a cot? But I didn’t want to sacrifice spending quality time with my daughter to forge some family legacy. I was proud of my work at Palmer Ranch, but it could never compare to listening as Maple recounted minute details of her day while we cooked dinner together.

“Your mother held this family together, she always did. It’s time for Dial to do the same.”

“But that’s the thing-Dial and I aren’t a family. And she couldn’t give two shits about what I have going on in my life. All she cares about is Maple.”

“You’d be going to Texas for Maple.”

As a horse trainer, I was also one of the handlers when our animals were on set. On the weeks I didn’t have Maple, I’d usually fly or drive out, spend a week on a location, and then hightail it back to Hume in time for my afternoon pickup. Occasionally I’d be unable to get home on a Monday, and Dial was accommodating, but only because I didn’t make that shit a habit.

The thing about me was that I didn’t give a fuck about Hollywood. I couldn’t tell you who half these celebrities were. All I cared about were my horses and the safety of everyone on set. My dad was the one pushing me to travel more. Perhaps because, at sixty-seven, he was starting to feel his mortality and wanted to ensure his legacy was in capable hands.

“Construction will begin before you know it.”

“I still have a couple of months.” Building a ranch of this magnitude required contracts, permits, and greasing politicians’ hands. By the time everything was approved, the approaching winter months would stall construction. Our stables alone were a sight to take in, with chandeliers, sunroofs, and iron beams. We weren’t talking some mom-and-pop farmstead—Palmer Horse Ranch owned over one thousand acres of land in Hume, offering equestrian facilities, indoor and outdoor arenas, paddocks, and riding trails. The Texas property would be similarly outfitted. I had time to sit on this for a bit longer.

“Get this shit sorted with Dial so we can move on to more important things. Do you hear me?” This was not a suggestion. It was a directive. I was his son and future owner of the ranch. Going to Texas wasn’t up for discussion. My father didn’t listen; he just barked orders with the expectation everyone around him would comply… especially me.

“Yes, sir.”

As I pulled up to the Birch house, a flood of memories came rushing back. Cyrus and I had spent hours roaming the land, flying kites or competing in various strongman competitions. The Birch home, oftentimes, had been more like home than my own. I hadn’t visited in years—this place was Dial’s domain, and I tried to be respectful of the boundaries. Admittedly, I was a habitual line stepper when it came to attempts to find myself in the same room as Dial. What she chalked up to coincidence was often the result of deliberate planning on my part.

But today I’d been invited here by Cy. The permits giving us the green light to turn the Birch homestead into a bed-and-breakfast had been approved, which meant it was time to get to work. When Cyrus had approached me about being a partner in this venture, I was hesitant. I knew Dial would be involved, which meant she didn’t want me anywhere near this project. Cyrus had reassured me that Dial was on board, claiming her pragmatic side overruled her vindictive one.

“You made it,” Cyrus shouted from the porch.

“Am I the first one here?” I shut my truck door and headed toward the house.

“Yep, the others should be here shortly.”