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“Dad found her a couple of years back when she was a pup. The mother was dead, killed by a hunter.” Ry glanced at the wolf and smiled. “And all the cubs were dead except Penny.”
“Seems like a soft name for such a big animal,” Cal replied.
Ryland shrugged. “She’s about as soft as a bucking bronco when it comes to strangers. But we’re her family. She’d died defending us.” Ry’s eyes narrowed, and it was pretty clear who he considered family. For the first time since he’d been back, Cal realized just how big the divide he needed to bridge was. It chased away any more words he had, and with nothing more to say, Cal got up and grabbed the empty plates from the table and rinsed them in the sink.
“I’m gonna check on Indy,” Ryland said. He called for Penny, and the wolf followed him outside, leaving Cal alone with his father.
“Indy?” Cal asked casually, turning back to face his father.
“A horse he’s been working with. A paint most likely from Pryor that wandered over here in the summer. Ry broke him in last month.” There was pride in Manley’s voice. “That horse has just about as much stubbornness in him as Ryland. For a while, I wasn’t sure which way it was gonna go.”
“He’s missing school. You okay with that?”
If his father was affected by the coolness of Cal’s tone, he didn’t show it.
“The boy needed some time.”
“I think his teachers would disagree with that.”
“You the expert on what goes on in this family?” Manley asked, eyebrows raised.
The fact that Cal was even having this conversation with his father stoked a fire in his chest, one he found hard to contain. “And you are?” He all but scoffed at the notion. “From what I remember, the only thing you’re an expert on is whiskey.”
“I haven’t had a drink in three and a half years.” Manley shook his head slowly, those eyes of his never leaving Cal’s. “Not one drop.” He shrugged. “There ain’t a day that goes by I don’t think about it, and some days are harder than others, but I don’t let it take me. Not like before.”
“Well, good for you, I guess. Forgive me if I don’t share your optimism for an alcohol-free future.”
“Calvin, I’ll always be a drunk, but I’m a sober drunk, and it took a lot to get here. I’m still your father. That affords me some kind of respect.”
That mountain inside Cal was crumbling. He nearly shook from the intensity of his feelings. “You lost that right the night Mom died. Don’t talk to me about respect.”
“I’ll never forgive myself for not being there when it happened.” His voice rasped. “Never.” Manley’s face was granite. “There are things I’ve done. Things I’ll never be able to take back or fix. But I’m trying.” He sighed and whispered. “I’m trying.”
Cal gritted his teeth. “I want Ryland back at the ranch tonight. He needs to get his ass to school in the morning. I’m calling the shots while Bent’s in the hospital, and it’s something I’m glad for.” He paused, sobered at the thought. “I need this. To be back here. I don’t think I realized it until just now, but I want you to understand one thing. None of it’s for you. I don’t want anything to do with you. You can play cowboy or dad or recovering alcoholic, or whatever the hell you want to, because I don’t care. I know how that story ends.” He slowly exhaled, trying his best to get a hold of his emotions. “I have no idea how you got Benton to agree to you living in the Founder’s Cabin, but it won’t work with me. I see right through you, old man. You’ll have to look for redemption somewhere else.”
Manley didn’t argue. Instead, he surprised Cal with a question. “How long you here?”
“Why does it matter?”
Manley held his gaze for a good, long while and then slowly shook his head. “I guess it don’t.”
Cal whirled around and grabbed up his coat. He shoved his feet into his boots and reached for the door.
“Your mom would be proud of what you’ve done.” The words were quiet, but the weight of them was so loud, it nearly took Cal’s breath away. He wasn’t ready to discuss his mother. Not with Manley.
Chest as tight as his jaw, he said nothing and closed the door behind him. Ten minutes later, he barreled down the mountain, skimming the top of the snow on a sled that could push nearly one hundred and twenty miles an hour. The wind whistled in his ear and the cold stung his face, tugging at his skin and bringing tears to his eyes.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Because damned if he was gonna shed tears for a man who didn’t deserve them. He didn’t give a crap if his father had changed. It was only a matter of time before it all fell to shit, and Cal had no intention of sticking around to see it happen.
CHAPTER7
Thursday nightsat the Sundowner were busy. Rib-eye steak with all the fixings was half-price, and for an extra buck, you could get a slice of the best butter cake around. The beer was cold, the crowd was up for anything, and the live music was always a good time. Generally speaking, the place filled up around six in the evening, with the first act hitting the stage by seven. But on this particular Thursday, every single chair at every single table had a butt in it, and the crowd around the bar was four deep before the clock hit four.
“What the hell?” Jennifer, the new server, raised her eyes dramatically at Millie as she grabbed her beer-laden tray. Her bright purple hair was hard to miss, along with the piercings above her left eye, nose, and lip. She was a transplant from New York, had ended up in town the month before when her ailing Honda Civic died on Main Street, and Millie had liked her instantly. Her energy was big, open, and honest. And while it had taken some time (on account of the purple hair and piercings), most of the regulars had warmed up to her as well.
“You couldn’t pack any more bodies in here tonight, and we’ve got hours to go.” Jennifer laughed. “You’d think some famous person was in town.” She winked. “Seriously, he’s just some honkytonk singer, isn’t he? I mean, one with a great ass and bedroom eyes, but still.”
