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Randy sways toward me, and I reconsider how many drinks the man’s had. “Why are you always taking up for him? He’s just using you, don’t you see it?”
“And what’s your excuse?” Porter points an accusatory finger. “You’re using the Sullivans as a babysitting service. Maybe instead of worrying about my family, you should be spending more time with your kid.”
“You leave Patricia out of this!” His face is red with anger. “You’ve got her wrapped around your finger too!”
When Randy shoves Porter, I’m sure they’ll come to blows. Instead, Porter grips him hard by the shirt, gets in his face, then roughly lets him go.
Randy falls on his ass, and Porter storms off toward the exit. “Need some air.”
The entire group is silent, some of them glaring at the man on the floor, as if finally seeing him for who he’s become. Or maybe they always knew but kept their mouths shut, like all of us.
But I can’t work in this kind of atmosphere, and I’m tired of bending over backward for a man I thought was too proud, but now I just wonder if he’s simply ungrateful.
“Consider this your final warning,” I say as Randy gingerly gets to his knees. “Get yourself together, or you’ll no longer be working for the Sullivan Ranch.”
Panic transforms his features. “Now c’mon, boss. You wouldn’t put a ten-year-old little girl out on the street, would you?”
Just as I’m about to give him a piece of my mind, Bulldog steps in front of me. “That the way you’re gonna play it? You drunk-ass fool! You better hope no one calls social services on you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Randy slurs.
“Wouldn’t I?” Bulldog replies, getting in Randy’s face.
“You boys knock it off,” Wade says sternly, and Bulldog takes a step back.
“Will you make sure Randy doesn’t get behind the wheel again?” I say to Wade. “I’m gonna…”
“Got it, boss.” He looks over my shoulder. “You make sure he’s okay.”
I head toward the door, wondering how this night got away from us.
Chapter 28
Porter
“Port.” Bishop shoves out of the door behind me.
“Not now, Sully.” My body shakes with what feels like a fever, I’m so angry. Still, I find myself whirling around on him, not wanting to talk but not having it in me not to do it either. “What he said about my dad…”
“Doesn’t matter.” He reaches out to grab me, then seems to realize what he’s doing and drops his arm again. “It doesn’t matter what Randy thinks. I know who you are, and you know who your dad was.”
But do I? In some ways, yes, I do. Regardless, he was my daddy. He taught me to ride and made me love ranching…but he wasn’t perfect either. He had his flaws, a whole lot of them, some I’ve taken on myself. That part of what he said is true. “I don’t think he cheated on my momma, but I know there were rumors, and the job thing…hell, I don’t even know what he’s talking about. He always bounced between jobs. He did work at the factory once, came home pissed because he got fired but didn’t give us the details. I know he didn’t always do the right thing, but I loved him.”
I lean against Sully’s truck, wishing I could suck the words back in. There’s not a chance in hell I would have said them to anyone but him. It’s like he’s a magician, my magician, who knows all my secrets and can unlock parts of me, making me do and say and feel things no one else can.
“Of course you did.” Sully moves closer, doesn’t stop until he’s right up in my space.
“Someone will see.” I eye him, unwilling to look away.
Sully sighs. “Let me take you home. I wanna touch you and kiss you and show you how much you mean to me.”
My stupid insides feel all melty. It’s miserable and wonderful at the same time. I rode out here with Bulldog, but after what just happened, the guys won’t think anything is up if I ride back with Sully.
A pang hits my chest at that thought, that they can’t know, that I almost feel like a dirty little secret, but I push it aside, nod, and without a word, walk to the other side of the truck.
We’re quiet most of the ride out to the ranch. Sully tries to make conversation about the fun we had before Randy showed up, but I’m not in the mood. My muscles still feel too tight from the confrontation. The instincts are still inside me to lash out, and while I held them at bay tonight, part of me wishes I hadn’t.
He drives his truck under the large Sullivan Ranch sign, and for the first time in a while, my gut clenches. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s all the talk about my dad tonight.
