Madeline glanced down, wishing she would hear something about Grant that she could honestly admire. Just one small thing that would make her feel as if she hadn’t descended from a long line of losers.
“He wasn’t all bad,” Mr. Kendrick said, as if she’d voiced her thoughts out loud. “I mean, he really was trying to help me out. He thought he was a wheeler-dealer and was probably just shy of the law, but his intentions were good. He knew I needed the money for Leo.”
“For Leo?”
“Yep. Insurance only covers so much, and that was back when I could get insurance for my son.”
Madeline bit her lower lip. He’d sold the ranch for so much less than it was worth so that he could take care of Leo.
“I take it he wasn’t much of a dad,” Mr. Kendrick said.
“You’d have to ask Libby,” Madeline said with a shrug. “I never knew him.”
Mr. Kendrick nodded. “I won’t make excuses for him,” he said. “But I’ll let you in on a secret—Grant himself told me he was never the same after his son died.”
Madeline started. “What? What son?”
“Hadn’t heard about that? He had son with his first wife. To hear Grant tell it, he doted on that kid. They had a little house out in Florida somewhere. He’d just gotten out of the military, was doing something with aviation equipment. Said he was really happy then. But that kid, somehow he got out from under their watch and they found him in the pool. He was about two when he drowned.”
Madeline’s stomach dropped. She’d had a brother? A baby who had drowned? She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. “I didn’t… I never…”
“Well I guess he kept that ache to himself then,” Mr. Kendrick said. “I don’t think he would have told me, but when this last wife left him, he came over one night, just as drunk as he could be, and he poured it all out.”
“Oh my God,” Madeline murmured.
“Now I never approved of the way Grant handled his kids, I can tell you that much. But after he told me, part of me always wanted to cut him a break. I just know how crazy I’d be if I lost one of my two.”
They sat in silence for a long moment. Madeline swallowed down a lump in her throat. She had never thought of her father as anything other than slightly less than human. She could not imagine the pain of his loss. And here she was sitting next to a man who had sacrificed so much for his child. A child he would lose.
She felt guilty for something she hadn’t done, guilt by association. “Mr. Kendrick, about the ranch—”
“Now Madeline, you do what you need to do about that,” he said, cutting her off. “We’ll be fine. We’ve made it this far and we’ll keep making it, no matter what. One thing I’ve got is two strong sons. We can weather just about anything.” He smiled, then surprised her by squeezing her knee. “You take care of you. Do what you need for you.”
She appreciated his sentiment, but the little green house was scarcely big enough for Leo’s wheelchair. How could she worry about only herself?
Libby appeared before them, her purse on her shoulder. “There you are. Are you ready?” she asked brightly.
Luke walked up behind Libby. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“We have so much to do tomorrow,” Libby said. “The Johnsons will be here on Thursday.”
Madeline stood up and looked at Luke. He said, “Are you leaving?” She had the feeling he was asking her something else entirely, something much deeper, and Madeline didn’t have an answer for him. She could feel a sea change in her, as if everything she had ever known, everything she had ever been, was turning over, bottom-up. It felt big, overwhelming. This time, she couldn’t reason everything out, couldn’t chart it and follow a predetermined path. She felt strangely paralyzed by the life she’d worked so hard to achieve.
She looked at Luke. He deserved some explanation from her. He deserved the best the world had to offer, not some woman from Orlando with a trunk full of emotional baggage. She wanted to tell him how she felt about him and what she meant to do, but honestly, standing there, she didn’t really know what she meant to do. “I have to go,” she said simply, and smiled sadly.
She could see in Luke’s pained expression that he understood her.
Luke walked Libby and Madeline out to their car after they’d said their good-nights. He stepped back inside the fence and watched until the red taillights of Libby’s car disappeared around the corner. When he turned back, he was surprised to see Jackson with one hip perched on the railing of the porch, watching him.
“So what’s up, Luke?” Jackson asked shrewdly. “You look a little like a sick puppy.”
“Funny,” Luke said.
“Hey, I got a call from your attorney, Dan Broadstreet. He had a few questions for me.”
“Did he?”