Page 27 of Chasing Liberty

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Page 27 of Chasing Liberty

"Given that he's both protective and a single parent, he's likely passed on his stubbornness.”

She gave a resigned shrug. "My hope was that he'd realize his mistake in pressuring us to marry, but it seems he's achieved his aim. His insistence has definitely created a significant hurdle within the family."

"You're all just too stubborn for your own good."

As she threw away the apple core, her thoughts turned to her father’s heart attack that had altered him in some ways, making him contemplate his life's fragility. Emotion swelled within her as she pictured the man she and so many others idolized, particularly his daughters, so vulnerable after his fall, laying in the grass until he was found hours later. He was fortunate that he was found, otherwise, he might not have survived. The close call quickened her pace of slicing the apple, the fear of losing him pressed heavily on her mind. Despite their frequent clashes, he was her world.

"When will you tell him about the baby?" Wyler asked as he helped her slice.

"After the Harvest Picnic. He’s usually in a bad mood around then. He loathes that event," she replied, placing sliced apples into a glass bowl.

"Why does he hold it, then?"

“I know this will come as a shocker, but Daddy has a talent of pissing people off. He’s all about business and doesn’t have compassion in a lot of his decisions. Years back he bought up some neighboring property, a foreclosure, for pennies on the dollar. The property belonged to Cecil Bennet, a long standing, respected member of the community who fell on hard times. It seems that Cecil, along with many residents, presumed my father would acquire the ranch and allow Cecil to maintain its operations and control.”

"Sam forced Cecil to leave his ranch?"

"He didn't directly force him out, but by stripping Cecil of any power, it's almost the same as losing it all. The men in Sagebrush Pine are prideful. They don’t want handouts, but they also don’t want to be kicked in the teeth when they’re down. Eventually, it led to a dispute between Daddy and Cecil, resulting in Cecil leaving—Daddy claims it was by choice, while Cecil said otherwise. A year after, Cecil died, leaving a lot of bad vibes and resentment behind."

"Is the annual Harvest Picnic organized to earn people's confidence and goodwill?"

“He began to contribute to the community. Constructed after-school facilities for kids, established a library, offered low-cost housing to families with limited income. It took years, but the people in town changed their perception. If he stopped holding the Harvest Picnic, he worries some might dwell on Cecil's unfortunate incident again."

"Perhaps Sam is dealing with guilt and wants to alleviate his own conscience."

"Hard to believe, but Daddy does possess some compassion."

"He may be stubborn, but at his core, he's decent. He's earned my respect, as well as that of many others."

Lost in her thoughts, she gazed at a bird perched outside the window. “I had a wonderful childhood and I want my child to enjoy life here too. I remember the excitement of Friday night football games, how Daddy has loyally followed the local team for twenty years. I cherish memories of Fourth of July celebrations and Christmas mornings. We'd eagerly wake up then go pester Daddy until he got up. I realize now he was probably awake long before us. Then we’d open gifts and later, wrapped up in new winter clothes and gloves, take a hayride around the ranch with friends. The snow always seemed to add a touch of magic to those times. Coming home to Dolly's hot chocolate and warmth was the best part.” Noticing his puzzled look, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“As a kid, we never had Christmas trees, until one year. One Christmas I woke up to a sad looking tree with a clumsily wrapped gift under it—the fishing rod I'd always wanted. I held it all day, even fell asleep with it in my hands, dreaming of warmer days so I could fish. The next day, the rod, and the dreams, were gone. My dad was on the couch, hungover. Turns out, he'd sold my present for alcohol.”

"Wyler, that’s terrible."

He shrugged. “Everything I endured has only made me stronger, but what if I'm unable to be a good father? What if I have my father's traits?"

She felt a flutter in her chest—needing to protect him. "You will be an excellent father. It’s normal for soon-to-be parents to worry about failing. While I'm unsure of my abilities, I am certain I'll give it my all."

“Okay, how about I show you how to make a crust?”

Obviously, he wanted to curb the conversation he wasn’t comfortable talking about.

Chapter Eight

"Cut the butter slices thinner," instructed Wyler, putting the crust ingredients into a bowl.

"Sure, chef," Liberty replied with a grunt. She carefully sliced the stick of butter. "I never asked whether you had a serious relationship before we got married."

"You're wondering now?"

“I am.”

“No, not anything to write home about. Before I got here the rodeo took up all my time. How about you?”

Her mind wandered to Reggie, and the fact that he had a daughter that she didn’t know about. He never spoke of her in all the time they had spent together. “You already know everything about my dating history according to bunkhouse gossip.” She smiled. She picked up one of the apple slices and bit into it. “I don’t believe you.”

“About?”




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