Page 109 of Strung Along
I’ve been bucked off horses and broken bones, swam in shallow lakes and cut my arms on sharp sticks. There are more scars on my palms from rope burn than a schoolteacher has paper cuts. No physical mark has carried more weight than the damage my father’s leaving caused.
I had years with the guy. Years of happy moments and bonding experiences that I’ll never get back. I’ve long since stopped thinking about the pathetic excuse of a man that bailed on his family when they needed him most. When I needed him most.
A boy loses his mother and expects his father to pick up the pieces she left behind. But that’s not what happened here. I haven’t spoken to the man since the day he left, and I hope I never do again.
Unlike me, my grandfather wears the pain of my father’s abandonment right beneath his skin. Not only did he take myfather in and treat him like his own flesh and blood, but he spent years training him to take over the Steele legacy. It was all for nothing. My packing up and leaving town tore deep. It left our relationship in tatters and brought him back to the place he was in when my father left, despite how thoroughly he tried to hide it. I’ve never forgiven myself for that, and he certainly hasn’t forgiven me either.
There’s so much ground to cover and nowhere near enough time.
“I was going to say that I’m proud of you for comin’ home. I’d have done the same thing for your grandmother,” he says.
My throat tightens. It’s been a long time since he’s said that to me. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear it until now.
“You raised me to take care of the people I love. I’m just doin’ that.”
“I taught you a great deal of things, Brody. But you taught me just as many.”
“I don’t think so. Where is this coming from?”
“I was just reminded of who you are instead of who I told myself you were. You taught me a full life of lessons, Brody. I didn’t have a clue how to raise a son. Your grandmother did most of the raisin’ with your mother, and I always regretted the lack of time I spent with her growin’ up. She was snatched too soon.” His voice cracks, and my chest splinters. “She left us her boy, and I have regretted a lot of things in my life, but takin’ my resentment for your father out on you is my worst mistake.”
I stare out at the outline of the stable up the road. The echo of my mother’s laugh fills every goddamn inch of that place, haunting me the moment I step inside. It’s too much. There are too many memories there that I don’t know how to move past.
It’s unfair to Sky. If I were a better person, I would have given her to another handler years ago. At least she’d have had the attention she deserved all these years. More than the briefmoments every few weeks or months that I’ve given her when the pain of being without her got too strong. It’s been twenty years since Mom died. I know Sky’s been taken care of and happy enough to continue loving so damn easily. But she’s mine, and I don’t have a lot of years left with her.
“I wasn’t easy on you and Grams either,” I say, tearing my eyes from the stable and dropping them in my lap. “You raised me pretty damn well. I think Anna would agree with me on that.”
“That girl is somethin’ else, Brody. Real special. Your momma would have liked her. I never thought I’d see a city girl so excited to try ranch life, but I gotta say, it fits her just right.”
Fuck. The burn in my eyes is a pain in my ass. “I’m too tired to listen to this shit.”
He keeps going, ignoring me. “Should’a told most of it to you a lot sooner. You’ve made me a proud man. Got a boy that wants the world to know his name and isn’t afraid to make it happen. I was just a stubborn old fuck who was blamin’ you for things you never did.”
“I’m not a boy anymore, you know?”
His laugh is watery, and a tear slips from my eye before I can stop it. I swipe it away quickly.
“That’s all you got from that speech?”
I snort. “We don’t do soft and gushy. We never have. But I’m grateful to have had you raise me. You’ve been more of a dad than a grandparent to me for the majority of my life.”
A slap of a hand on my shoulder and then a squeeze. “Drive us up to the house. You’ve got a girl inside chompin’ at the bit for a look at you.”
I put the truck in gear and go heavy on the gas, desperate to see my woman again. “Did she stay with you guys at the main house last night?”
We never had much of a chance to talk last night before she fell asleep. By the time I had my tickets purchased and my shitpacked up to go, it was already late. One quick call to check in was all I got before boarding and heading home.
“Yeah. Your grandmother put her up in your old room.”
“Good.”
A pause. “That reporter won’t come back here. He’s probably long gone back to wherever the hell he came from with his tail tucked tight between his legs.”
“He’s from Nashville. Must have been sent up here after I told the label to decline the rest of the requests for statements.”
His voice is hard, stern. “This ain’t your fault, Brody.”
“How is it not? I led them here.”