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I’d never seen Ma cry. By the time I had arrived home after I learned Kane was hurt, Ma had returned to her formidable self.
She cleared her throat. “This ain’t an easy life, Laney. Even when we’re raised in it, years like this make us feel pretty damn helpless. It’s our experience that gets us through. The ‘this too shall pass’ shit. Kane didn’t have that experience. He’ll see. It’ll be fine.”
“He won’t,” I spat out. “Because he won’t be here. I get it. You got stuck with me. You had your son; you had your successor. I was the surprise that ended up being nothing but baggage. But guess what? I’m here, and I want to do this. Kane doesn’t. So unless you want to drive him back into his depression, you’ll encourage him to follow his dreams, and you’ll even help him move. Then you’ll burn down that trailer house to show him he has your utmost support and always will. At least one of us should have that from you.”
Ma blinked. She blinked again.
My chest was heaving. I hadn’t realized my volume increased as I went. I adjusted the bill of my cap, pulling it down.
After several moments of silence, Ma finally said, “Shit, Laney.” Her throat worked again. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“You obviously aren’t trying to either.”
“Don’t be acting all high and mighty now that you’re one of them.”
“Oh my God, Ma. My marriage has nothing to do with Kane or this ranch.”
“And it never will.”
I drew back. “What?”
“Figure it out.” Ma started to saunter away. “Since you’re so much smarter than me.”
I stared after her. The back of the pickup was still loaded with bags of mineral.
Figure it out.
I was so over the Barron last name and all the baggage that came with it. I was Laney Granger. I’d married a man named Archer. Why couldn’t it be that simple?
* * *
Archer
Cheryl stormed toward the barn. I looped the lawn mower around and craned my neck to look for Delaney. She was inside the shed, watching her mom walk away. The intensity of her glare could rival the sun.
I finished the row I was mowing and ambled the mower toward the shop. Delaney yanked a bag out of the pickup, her wiry muscles bulging as she carried it into the shed. She’d do them all, one by one, and then grab a sandwich to eat while filling the water truck. Delaney’s expression was full of all the thunderclouds the land needed in the sky.
I killed the engine and hopped off. Jumping in, I grabbed a bag, my core muscles firing up. This wasn’t gym equipment. I wasn’t pulling a weight sled or doing planks. This waswork. I found where she was stacking the mineral.
Dust filtered through the shed as we worked, grunting and breathing hard. By the time we stacked the last bag on the pallet, her expression had relaxed into resignation.
“Wanna talk ’bout it?” I asked.
She sniffed and brushed the back of her hand against her cheek. “Just Ma being Ma.” She slammed the tailgate up and propped an elbow on it. “Kane told her he’s moving, so she’s blaming me.”
“Why?” Cheryl had to see it was what he wanted.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but I caught the glint of moisture wicking over her eyes. “Just Ma being Ma.”
I crowded closer, dropping a hand to her waist. She needed support, whether she wanted it or not. “Why, Delaney?” I asked quietly.
“Not only wasn’t I planned, but she thinks Kane’s leaving because I’m here and he’s not needed. She won’t admit that everything she planned for him is everything he doesn’t want.” She sniffled. “And then I had to go and become a Barron, and she’s apparently pissed about that.”
“Well, that explains why I wasn’t invited over for tater tot hotdish.” Delaney hadn’t thought I knew what it was, but Dad had made it when we were kids. Mama was born and raised in Texas, but she’d been fascinated with his love of the casserole.
She scrubbed her face, leaving streaks of dirt behind. “Ugh. Moping doesn’t get the cows fed, and I have to figure out how the hell we’re going to do that the rest of summer and all through the winter.”
“The hay we cut won’t be enough.” I stated the obvious.
