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Melody
Daisy stands in front of Uncle Lovett and Uncle Dudley looking pissed. Her arms cross over her chest and her eyes narrow as I step out of the tower and face them. I’m distinctly aware of War back in the shadows on the stairs, and I can still feel him between my legs, his mouth on my mouth, his fingers deep inside—
And I have to pinch my thigh to get that image out of my head. This is absolutely not the time to daydream.
“What can I do for you, Daisy?” I’m proud of the way my voice doesn’t shake, even though a prickle of fear rolls down into my stomach.
My cousin takes a couple steps forward. “I wanted to have a conversation with you, Cousin Melody. I thought we might clear the air between us and make sure you understand the current situation.”
I glance back her toward my uncles. “And you brought back-up?”
“Melody,” Uncle Lovett says, a tall and skinny man with gray hair and wrinkles around his eyes. “We’re just here to make sure everyone’s clear about the situation. This doesn’t have to be confrontational.”
“How’s that supposed to work?” I ask him. “You two are going to stand there looking tough? You haven’t even said hello to me, you know, and I’m supposed to be your niece.”
“Things are complicated,” Uncle Lovett says.
“When was the last time you visited my dad?” I give him a hard look and spread my hands to encompass the others. “Any of you? Do any of you go sit with him?”
“I watched a movie with him with a few days ago,” Uncle Dudley says as if that’s more an admission of guilt than anything else. He’s heavy-set, softer than I remembered, and I get the feeling that none of these people have been working the ranch much in my absence. It sure as heck doesn’t look like it, at least.
Anger builds up in my chest. I don’t want to have this talk—I’m not interested in whatever Daisy has to say—but seeing my uncles like this, standing behind my cousin like they’re afraid of her, it makes me mad as hell. This place didn’t used to be so soft and weak, and there was no backstabbing and gossip. It used to be a place of business, a place to raise horses and train them and sell them, not some weird stomping ground for rich girls to flex their power. I knew my uncles were different from my dad, but I thought they had some backbone at least. Apparently not.
“None of that matters,” Daisy says, cutting off anything my uncles might’ve added in their defense. “I’m here to explain the situation to you, Melody, since you’ve been away for so long and so much has changed.” She comes closer, staring at me like this conversation is about to turn into a fistfight. And I almost welcome it: based on her manicured nails and her blowout, I’m pretty sure I can take her.
“I’m not interested,” I say as firmly as I can. “I came home to say goodbye to my dad and that’s it. I don’t want to get involved in your family drama.”
Daisy’s smile is tight. “Then perfect. You won’t mind listening to what I have to say then.” When I don’t argue, she continues. “See, after you left, someone had to step up and start running this place. Your father’s been on a steady decline for years, and at a certain point, it got so bad that we had to ask him to step down. And I bet you can guess how that went.”
I look away and try to picture my father, big and tall and proud, backing down from working on the ranch. That’d be like asking him to cut off his own leg and give up any purpose he had in this world, and I’m positive he would’ve fought against that like a rabid tiger. That fact that he eventually gave in makes me believe Daisy’s story, that he really was in bad shape.
“You weren’t here,” Daisy says, her voice low now, gentle and accusing. “You ran off when things got hard, and you left us to pick up the pieces. You stirred the pot, got everyone upset and angry and hating each other, and then you dipped out like none of that was your problem. Your father was a wreck when you wouldn’t come home, and slowly but surely, he fell apart, and the ranch began to fall apart with him. I had to make changes, streamline things, get rid of all the excess employees, trim the fat, or else we would’ve gone under years ago. You have no idea what state the ranch was in, Melody, but I do. Because I saved it.”
I try to imagine what she’s saying. It’s totally plausible the ranch was in bad financial shape—I never saw the books and have no clue how much was going out and how much was coming in—but itfeelsimpossible. My father loved this place, he wasobsessedwith making sure Leader Ranch was as successful as possible, and the idea that he’d somehow mismanaged it so badly that it was on the verge of closing feels crazy.
And yet neither of my uncles disagrees. They stand there looking hard and annoyed, probably pissed they have to deal with this instead of sitting down to watch basketball or whatever they waste their time with, and some part of my skepticism falters. If what Daisy’s saying is true, then everything my father told me and War is painted in a new light. If Dad really has been declining for a while, it’s about more than his lung cancer. There could be other problems, like Alzheimer’s or something like that, and I wouldn’t know a thing about it because I haven’t been around to watch it develop.
“Now try to see it from my perspective,” Daisy says. “I work hard to save the ranch. It’s not what it was, I won’t deny that, but at least it’s still open and functioning. I make the hard choices, the real sacrifices. I do the work and I save this place. Then you appear out of nowhere after years of being away, and you waltz back in here like you never left, and I hear your father is talking about leaving ownership of the ranch to you in his will. Imagine how I feel about you coming back when I’ve been here this whole time bleeding for this place. When I’m the one that kept it from going under.”
My jaw works as Daisy circles me to the left and back around to the right again. “I didn’t ask for any of that,” I say, staring into her eyes as she paces. “I don’t want Leader. I told Dad that already. If you think you’re entitled to this place then you can have it.”
“Good,” Daisy says, stopping. “Pack your shit and leave.”
My eyebrows raise. “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll bring your car around myself.”
“But I can’t. Not yet anyway.” I step toward her. Only a couple feet separate us now. It’s like the world is narrowed down into this moment, down into this tiny space, and all I care about is Daisy, the way she’s looking at me, the memories she drags up in me. Loathing swells, but also confusion, and curiosity, and I falter, thinking maybe she’s right if her story’s true, maybe I reallyamwrong to be here.
But none of that matters. She can think whatever she wants to think—I’m here for one reason and only one reason, and that’s to collect the money Dad promised to War for making me stay here. I want to cash my check, save Bomber, prove to myself that I can handle my own life, and move the hell on.
“There’s the problem,” Daisy says. “You pretend like you don’t want the ranch, butyou’re still here. You could pack and go whenever, return to your other life, go back to whatever you were doing before you decided to come blow up everything we’re worked for. Instead, you’re lingering with that weird boyfriend of yours, and I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”
“War isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Do you think I give a shit what he is to you?” Her eyes narrow in anger. “All I want is for you to drive on home, Melody. Leave us alone.”
I take a deep breath and let it out. “In a few days, I’ll be gone,” I say quietly. “I’m staying until the end of the week. I’ll visit with Dad and say my goodbyes. I’ll ride the ranch and spend some time with Renee. Heck, even you and I could try to get along, if you wanted. But I’m not leaving until I’m ready.”
