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But I can’t do that until I feel like my son is ready to step up to the goddamn plate.
“What’s the problem?” I ask, not bothering with any preliminary bullshit.
“Problem? Who says there’s a problem?” Tiny says like an asshole. I rock my neck back and forth and sigh.
“Your eyes say it, for fuck’s sake,” I retort with a narrowed gaze. “You look jumpier than a damn jackrabbit. More than usual. You think I can’t tell when there’s a problem just by lookin’ at ya?”
Tiny nods, licking his lips nervously. “Okay, fine, there’s a problem.”
But when he doesn’t expand further, a deep sigh slides through my lungs. “And what is it?”
“What is what?” Tiny asks.
Dear God.
“The fuckin’ problem, Tiny.”
“Oh, right,” he answers quickly with big eyes. “I saw Rhett out at the barn earlier this mornin’,” he rambles as quickly as his slow drawl will let him. “He was gettin’ ready to saddle Sonny.”
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, sinking my head into my hands.
Tiny nods enthusiastically. “I tried to stop him, but well…he didn’t take too kindly to me tellin’ him what to do.”
No kidding. Only one person more bullheaded than me and that’s my son Rhett. It’ll make him a good boss one day, when he can get his head out of his own ass and stop being so damn stupid and careless.
“All right.” I nod. “I’ll handle it from here.”
Tiny nods, clearly relieved to be absolved of this responsibility. I shoo him out of my office with a wave of my hand, and he takes off like a three-legged cat, more than ready to get out of my lion’s den.
“And, Tiny?” I call when he makes it to the door. He turns around to meet my eyes, and I level him with a stern stare that’s sure to make a showing in his nightmares tonight. “Next time you wait this long to tell me shit like this, I’m gonna snatch off what’s left of the hair on your head myself. Understand?”
He nods fervently.
I jerk my chin up. “Good. You can go now.”
To an outsider, it might seem like I’m being hard on him, but it’s necessary.
I love Tiny like family, but he’s been working at my ranch long enough for me to understand the man needs clear, stern directions in order to guarantee a follow-through.
I release another heavy sigh and scrub a hand down my face before leaning into my desk on splayed hands. The surface is covered with cattle contracts and applications for workers and profiles on some of our VIP guests. There’s a mile-long to-do list for setting up for our big summer rodeo celebration and exhibition, and I haven’t eaten a goddamn bite of anything for lunch.
Still, I know that if I don’t put all of that shit aside and get my son in hand, he’s going to end up with a permanently fucked-up leg and a bitter taste in his mouth for the life that should be bringing him joy.
The life I know he’s meant for, a life that will bring him the purpose he’s been searching for, if he’ll just let himself accept it.
I pick up the phone and dial the one person I know he’ll answer to—my wife. With a sweet manner and a strong heart, she’s the woman you go to with your problems, knowing she’s going to keep them safe and guarded. She’s the love of my life, and even as a grown man, the one woman my son’ll actually listen to.
If I call Rhett in here to the office, I can almost guarantee he’ll turn me down or stand me up without guilt. But if his mama calls him—that’s a whole different story.
Boys always listen to their mamas, even when they’re full-fledged men.
Well, at least, the good men do.
And at this point, I’m damn desperate enough to set myself up to get in trouble with both of them. Because make no mistake, when my wife realizes I’ve used her to trap her only child, her baby boy, in a conversation he doesn’t want to have, there’s going to be hell to pay.
Sitting in my favorite leather chair in the living room with a newspaper in front of my face, I wait patiently for my son and granddaughter to arrive for dinner. There’s a roast in the oven that smells like heaven, and I only wish I were going to get the chance to eat it. In fact, it’s almost worth waiting until after the meal to have the conversation with Rhett I know I have to have, but only almost.
There’s been enough beating around the bush, enough coddling, and it’s time he got served a slice of cold, hard truth.
The front door opens, and Joey’s laugh precedes her as she comes running down the hall.
With big blue eyes, blond hair and dimples, my granddaughter is the kind of adorable that has the power to win anyone over. She’s the apple of my wife’s and my eye and has become a constant source of joy for everyone around her since the moment she made her debut into this world.
