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The remark prompted Chase to recall Maggie’s insistence that their son regarded him as some kind of mortal god. He couldn’t feel less godlike than he did right now.
“I’m a man, Ty.” Weariness pulled at him, weariness of everyone expecting him to be strong for them when he had trouble being strong for himself. “I get lonely and tired . . . and fed up just like everyone else.”
Part of the reply struck a nerve. “Why should you feel lonely when you’ve got Mom?” This time Ty leveled a glance at his father, trying to flatten the dark glitter of anger in his eyes.
“Just because you love someone, that doesn’t mean you stop being lonely,” he replied while his narrowed eyes flicked keenly over Ty.
Sally Brogan approached the table carrying two plates mounded with french fries and draped with T-bones. Ty avoided looking at her and lifted his beer glass to drink it dry while she set the meal in front of him along with silverware wrapped in napkins, the steak knives lying across the crisply cooked meat.
He rocked his chair onto its back legs, observing his father while the red-haired woman placed a food-laden plate in front of him and paused at his side. “Anything else?”
“Not for me, thanks,” his father refused with an air of reserve and swung her a brief glance that seemed hard with regret.
“How about you, Ty?” So calm-sounding and natural.
The chair came down on all four legs with a loud clump. “I’ll have another beer.” He pushed the empty glass onto the table in her direction but Ty never looked at her.
The salt and pepper shakers were exchanged without conversation. A fresh glass of beer was set in front of Ty and he mumbled a short thanks. The meal appeared to occupy the attention of both of them, but Ty’s thoughts continued wrestling with this discovery about his father.
If his mother ever found out he was carrying on with Sally Brogan, she would be brutally hurt. How could a man love a woman and do that to her? Yet was it any different than his relationship with Tara: loving her while using other women to satisfy his body’s lust? He instantly rejected the comparison. It wouldn’t be like that after they were married.
He didn’t know how to deal with the situation, on one hand hating his father for betraying his mother this way, and on the other trying to find excuses that would justify his father’s behavior. Every time the hot bile of resentment rose in his throat, he washed it down with cold beer.
When they had finished the meal, his father ordered a cup of coffee, but Ty asked for another beer. “In a few weeks you’ll be leaving again to start your last year of college.” His father lit a thin cheroot and blew the smoke upward to join the hazy layer of air near the ceiling. “I guess you know I’ll always think your time would have been better spent on the ranch. But at least it’s nearly over and you’ll be back for good.” When Ty failed to respond, Chase lifted his head, sensing something was wrong. “Or do you have other plans that I don’t know about?”
“No. None.” The sweating beer glass left a wet circle on the table, and he turned it absently within that perimeter. “I’ll be coming back after I graduate.”
“You had me wondering for a minute.” His mouth relaxed into a faint smile. There was a small break in the conversation, a lull that was filled by the growing hum of laughing voices in the background until his father spoke again. “Dyson will be flying up sometime next week for a visit. He called this morning to say he was going to be in Wyoming. Since he was so close he decided he’d take an extra couple of days and stop by the ranch.”
“Will Tara be with him?” Ty had to ask.
“Not that he mentioned.” He glanced at Ty while he tapped the slim cigar in the ashtray. “Are you serious about her?”
“I’m going to marry her,” he stated.
His father took his time digesting this assertion as he idly rolled his cigar. “She’s a beautiful girl.” His glance moved with deceptive laziness back to Ty. “Are you sure you love her?”
No one had ever been able to explain to him what love was. With Tara, he had discovered it to be hunger—a driving hunger that ate away at him until he craved her the way a starving man would sell his soul for a loaf of bread.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“I won’t tell you that you’re too young for marriage, even though I think you are. If she’s got you tied up in the kind of knots I think she has, you’re beyond knowing what you feel or listening to anyone else. But if you do love her, bring her to the ranch before you marry her—for her sake.”
“Why?” At the moment, TY resented any advice from his father regarding marriage or women.
“Some people can’t adapt to the isolation. Life out here won’t be like what she’s known. There aren’t any fancy shops or theaters or country clubs, or so many things she takes for granted. You owe her the right to know what kind of life she’ll have after you are married.”
“Mother enjoys it here,” he stated.
“Your mother was born to the country. Tara is city-bred.”
“And that makes all the difference?” There was a trace of sarcasm in his voice at this constant preaching on the subject.
“If she doesn’t like it here, you’ll find yourself with an insurmountable problem,” his father warned. “Every marriage has its problems.”
“What’s yours?” Ty demanded.
His father drew back, eyes narrowing. “That’s a private matter between your mother and me, something we have to work out alone.”
