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Daddy cocked one bushy, gray eyebrow. “You don’t think you and Gerty will make it?”
“I think I’m going to be taking over here before Gerty will be ready to get married, yes,” Mike said. “Probably beforeI’mready to get married.”
Daddy didn’t say anything, but he clearly absorbed that information. He looked over to Hunter again. “Can I steal my son?” he asked.
“I think he can be done for today, yes.” Hunter sighed as he sank into his chair. “I wish I was.” He flashed a tired smile and woke his computer. “Unfortunately for me, I have a report to read, and then about six thousand emails to respond to.”
“You can never keep up with the emails,” Daddy said. “You’re still trying?”
“A little bit every day,” Hunter said. He grinned then and lifted his arm as if tipping his cowboy hat. He kept two on the coat rack beside the door, and when Mike had asked him why, he said he sometimes went straight from this office to the farm, a play for Lisa, his ten-year-old, a soccer game for Charlotte, his eight-year-old, or some other family or church event.
Daddy put his arm around Mike and said, “You got anything you need to bring with you?”
Mike nearly dove for the folder Hunter had put on the corner of his desk that morning. “Yes.” He collected it and said, “See you on Monday, Hunt.”
“I’ll be at the farm this weekend,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll see you then.”
“All right.” Mike then led the way out of the office, knowing his father would take him to a restaurant he’d funded during his time as CEO, and they’d have to have a talk about why Mike felt like his world was falling apart one breath at a time.
17
Hunter Hammond loosened his tie as he stepped off the elevator. A few steps down the hall sat the only apartment—the penthouse suite—where he’d lived for the past eighteen years. Molly and the kids came all the time, and they also had a house on the outskirts of the city, closer to Ivory Peaks.
The kids went to school out there, and Hunter made that drive any time it was feasible to do so. Sometimes a storm would keep him in the city, and sometimes his workload kept him behind his desk until late in the evening and neither he nor Molly saw any point in him making the forty-minute drive just to collapse into bed and leave again the next morning before anyone else got up.
If he simply came to the city apartment, he could video-chat his wife and kids, and he’d actually get to spend a little time with them.
In the summer, Hunter worked four days during the week and took a three-day weekend. Molly’s busiest time at Pony Power was in the summer, and they loved having family time on the farm.
“A few more months,” he said to himself as he entered the apartment and turned to lock the door behind him. He opened the fridge and pulled out a protein shake—about all he kept in terms of food in the apartment.
He was so ready to retire. Seventeen years as the CEO of the Hammond Manufacturing Company. He’d thought he’d run it for maybe eight or ten years. Just long enough for Mike to get a degree and take over.
But his cousin had gone into the military after college. He’d been an amazing pilot, and Hunter had pulled some strings and gotten eyes on the official report about his accident overseas. The man was lucky to be alive, as was everyone who’d been aboard his helicopter. The reason they’d all survived?
Michael himself. He’d taken them down in the safest place possible, laying them on the tail to slow them down before the belly crashed into the hard, dry, baked desert.
He tapped to call Molly, noting the time. Just after six. The only thing happening right now would be cleaning up after the riding lessons, and then she’d have to herd all of the kids into their enormous SUV to make the drive home for dinner.
At least they didn’t have homework in the summer. Not only that, but Molly didn’t have to be at Pony Power until noon most days, so she and the kids had time to sleep in, go to breakfast or an early lunch, take in movies, and a whole slew of other family things.
Hunter was tired of missing them.
“Hey, baby,” Molly said, and his soul quieted.
“Mols,” he said as he sat down at the dining room table.
“You staying in the city?” she asked, peering at the screen.
“No, I’m going to drive home,” he said. “I had to get out of the office, though, or I might never have made it.”
“Revolving door today?”
“You got it.” He twisted off the top of the protein shake. “Do you want me to get dinner on my way home?”
“I always want you to get dinner on your way home.” She smiled at him but quickly looked away. “No, those go in stable two. Thanks, Britt.” Her attention came back to Hunter. “Not Mexican and not fast food.”
“Pizza?” he asked just as she said, “And not pizza.”
