Page 130 of One Last Shot

Oaken walked to the window, stood beside him. “I just... I hate the fact that I didn’t go after her. I knew she was angry and that there was a blizzard coming...”

“So you’re angry at her. And yourself. Anyone else?”

Oaken looked at him. “Okay, yeah. I’m angry at my mom for leaving my dad for Nashville. And my dad for not going after her?—”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “So this not going after someone you love—otherwise known as pride—runs in the family.”

Oaken drew in a breath. Stared past him. “I guess . . . I hadn’t . . .”

“That’s what my father might call a generational curse, Oak. Anger and pride being passed down, father to son. I think it’s time to break that.”

Oaken made a face.

“What?”

“You’re going to tell me I have to forgive my father too.”

“Nope. It’s worse. I’m going to tell you to forgive him to his face. Set you both free.”

Aw.

Which was why Oaken now found himself on the back of a horse, grimy and sore, separating the handful of heavily pregnant cows from the herd.

He pulled out a rope and started to whoop, sending them walking toward the barn as he tried to figure out how, exactly, to have that conversation.

He did, however, find a tune to “Storm Song,” let it run through his mind.

When the dark clouds gathered and tearsfell like rain,

I found comfort in his shelter, where I’d remain.

In the trials I faced, I learned to hold on,

And in the toughest moments, I grew strong.

He moved the cows into the pen, then closed it and latched it and climbed down from Rio.

The sound of horse’s hooves made him turn. His father, riding into the yard. He slowed to a walk, let the horse cool down.

Oaken took Rio and walked him around the yard too.

His father finally caught up. “Let’s put up the horses, then I think there’s some coffee waiting for us at the house.” He pulled his foot from the stirrup, swung his leg over, and hopped down. Still spry at sixty-five.

They led the horses into the barn and removed their tack.

His father filled the water tank, the water lukewarm, and they stood there in silence, listening to the animals drink.

Now. Tell him now.The urge swelled through him... “Hey, Pop?—”

“Get the bucket and let’s wipe these guys down.”

Right. He found the bucket, and his father filled it with warm water. Oaken led Rio over to his stall, tied him to the door, and ran the thick sponge over him, wiping him down. He checked Rio’s legs for any cuts and his hooves for stones or damage.

Then he followed his father and his horse with Rio for a final walk around the barn before leading the horse to his stall.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said to Rio and caught up to his father, walking toward his truck.

They got in, and silence filled the cab.Now...