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Manuel stands as well. “I didn’t fucking know. All I knew was that you broke her heart, and she needed a way out.” He steps closer to Shane, challenging him.
Shane shakes his head, guilt in the slump of his shoulders. He sits down heavily on the chair. Ellen chooses that moment to intervene. “Sweet girl. You should have known you could come to us.”
“I know Mama Ellen. It wasn’t about being able to trust you or Manuel. Can we just talk about the will?”
Chapter Twelve
Shane
It seems to take Samantha forever to get her words in order. “I want to stay. I want Dakota to have a life here. To grow up here safe and loved.”
“Was she not safe and loved in Savannah?” I ask.
Her eyes slide to me and quickly away. She continues, “This is the legacy Dad left to her and I won’t see that go up in flames. I won’t be the reason all the people that depend on the ranch lose their livelihoods.”
What isn’t she saying? “So you’re planning to stay, then?” Manuel and I ask at the same time.
“Yes.” She says resolutely. “I plan to stay.”
“Will you need to go back for your things?” I ask curiously.
“There’s nothing.” She answers shortly. “I’ll replace everything soon.”
Manuel and Ellen seem comfortable with her answer. I’m not. Samantha is hiding something.
“One more question.” Mama Ellen says. “What about your marriage?”
“I’ll have my attorney draw up the divorce papers,” I say. “Samantha and I will figure it out from there.” That’s what I want. It’s what Samantha wants. Right?
Ellen looks at Samantha, sadness in her eyes. Samantha seems to mirror the look as if she’s disappointed in my answer. That can’t be right, though. She made it pretty clear how she feels about me. Ellen is sitting there twisting her hands together. Manuel sits stoically.
“I should go start dinner,” Ellen says quietly.
“I promised Dakota dinner at the diner. You’re more than welcome to join us,” Samantha offers.
“No, thank you, dear. You go ahead. I still have the men to cook for.” Ellen responds as she walks away.
“Can I have a minute with Samantha?” Manuel asks, looking at me like he wants me to argue.
“Sure. I’ll go grab Dakota and get her ready.” I say, standing.
My knee locks up when I stand. I try not to let it show on my face, but it hurts like a son of a bitch. I feel weak as fuck, broken.
Sometimes, I’d rather cut the fucker off than to deal with the pain. The doctor has offered me pain meds before, but I always turn him down. I need to be on my game to keep the ranch running the way it should.
Not only that, but the pills make me feel and act differently. I don’t like it and I don’t like the idea that I could become an addict like my dad. I’d rather swallow down a few ibuprofen and call it a day.
The doctors don’t understand my aversion, but they don’t need to. The only one that needs to understand is me. And now that I know exactly what happened six years ago, it’s even more imperative that I stay away from them. I will not be that person again.
I find Matt and Dakota down by the lake. He’s sitting on the old tire swing with Dakota on his lap as they spin in circles. Dakota is laughing and smiling at something Matt says.
I stand there and let memories drift over me. I’d told Samantha that I wanted a full life with her, including children. Standing there listening, I recall the weekend we went away to get married.
“I hope one day we have a little girl that looks just like you,” I tell Samantha after our small wedding. “With your smile and your laugh.”
Samantha smiles up at me. “And a little boy, just like you.”
“No. Our son will be so much better than me.” I counter.
