“He was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. He turned his back to play one of those Duck Hunt games, and when he was done, she was simply gone.”
My chest constricted, empathy curling around my heart that I didn’t want to feel. It was easier to think of Hayes as a jerk rather than someone trying to protect his family and shouldering baggage that wasn’t his to carry. “I’m sorry he’s going through that.”
Julia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am, too, but it doesn’t give him the right to be an ass.”
I barked out a laugh. “It wasn’t that bad.” She arched a brow. “Okay, it wasn’t good.”
“That’s what I thought. I’m sorry he hasn’t treated you fairly. He’s got a good heart in there, and once he pulls his head out, he’ll see the light.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I wouldn’t give voice to my disagreement.
“So, tell me what your plans are for this place?”
I traced a design in the condensation of my glass. “I’m creating an animal sanctuary.” I didn’t say “I wanted to” or “I hoped to,” because failure wasn’t an option. And not just because it had been the last thing my mother had asked of me, but because I needed it, too.
“What a wonderful idea. Even though you’re on the mountain, you’re low enough to have some good grazing spots.”
“There are definitely a lot of inclines, but there are some flatter areas, too. It’s going to be a lot of work to get everything ready, and I’ll have to start small—”
Julia cut me off with a look. “Even taking in just one animal changes the world for that creature.”
My mouth curved but my ribs constricted. This was what I’d missed from my mother—gentle encouragement. I had flashes of her guiding me through the planting each spring and helping to gentle a skittish horse, but they were almost sepia-toned, aged and worn. “I’ve got to figure out what to do about the barn first. It’s a mess.”
Julia glanced towards the leaning structure, her lips pursing. “I don’t want you in there. It looks like it could go down with a strong gust of wind. And the house doesn’t look much sturdier. I’ll have Gabe come out and take a look. He’s overseen all the construction projects on the ranch. Usually works alongside whatever crew we bring in.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”
“I want to. We want to help. And I know Shy will love the idea of a sanctuary.” She nibbled on the corner of her mouth. “She’ll make her way up here for sure. Don’t be offended if she walks off mid-conversation, it’s just how she deals with things she doesn’t want to talk about. Or if she’s simply had enough people for a while.”
“She’s free to be whoever she needs to be with me.” I could barely get the words out, knowing the reason she handled life the way she did was because of my father.
Julia patted my hand. “That’s one of the greatest gifts a person can give another. The freedom to be who they truly are.”
I hoped she was right because I didn’t have anything else to give to the woman whose life my father had broken, leaving it tattered and torn.
8
Hayes
My mom drummed her fingers on the counter as she glanced at the clock for the dozenth time in the past twenty minutes. “Maybe you should call your Search and Rescue team leader.”
I laid a hand over hers. “She’s fifteen minutes late. That’s not a call for S&R.”
“She isn’t answering her phone.”
Dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You know how Hadley is when she’s hiking. She’s on her own schedule.”
Mom’s mouth thinned. “She should have the courtesy to let us know she’s okay, if that’s the case. Calder told us he couldn’t make it, so we’re not worrying about him and the girls.”
I winced and stole a glance at Shiloh, who was on the floor with Koda. Shy didn’t look the least bit concerned. But then she knew her sister, and this was one area where they were incredibly similar—their need to break free and be out in nature alone. It drove my mom nuts. I’d done everything I could to alleviate her worry and make sure my sisters were safe. Given them emergency kits, even satellite phones. But it still put Mom on edge.
Tires on gravel sounded, and Mom hurried to the front window. I could just make out Hadley’s SUV. As soon as my mom caught sight of her youngest daughter, she turned and retreated to the kitchen, busying herself with dinner prep. The slightly frenetic energy told me that we were in for it.
I sighed and squeezed the bridge of my nose where a headache was forming. The front door slammed, and Hadley called out. “Sorry I’m late. I went longer than I’d planned.”
Mom chopped a carrot with a bit more force than necessary. “Would a phone call be too much to ask when your family’s expecting you?”
Hadley’s steps faltered. “I didn’t know that I still had to report my movements now that I’m an adult.”
“Okay, ladies, I think that’s enough,” my dad began. “Hadley, your mom was worried. I think you know why. Julia, let’s give the girl some freedom. She’s grown.”
Mom huffed and turned back to the salad. “The lasagna’s done so everyone can sit.”
Hadley went to the sink to wash her hands, and I came up alongside her, bumping my shoulder into hers. “Your phone was off.”
“The battery died, and I didn’t have my car charger.”
“Hads, that’s not safe.”
“Quit it. I don’t need you on my case, too. You’re my brother, not my keeper. You know, people lived their lives before cell phones.”
I bit back every retort that wanted to fly from my mouth, every statistic about what could happen to a woman alone. “I’ll get you another charger and an external battery for your pack.”
Hadley simply rolled her eyes and crossed to the table, sitting as far away from Mom’s chair as she could. Shiloh gave Koda one last rub and then followed suit. I turned to Mom. “Want me to carry the lasagna?”
“That would be good. Thank you.”
I squeezed her shoulder and then grabbed hotpot holders and the casserole dish. I set it carefully on the risers on the table’s surface just as Hadley muttered, “Kiss-ass” under her breath. The tension between my eyes throbbed.
Mom set a salad and the garlic bread down and then slipped into her seat. “So, how was everyone’s day?”
Silence met her query. I hurried to fill it. “Three calls from Ms. Pat about her missing cat.”
Dad chuckled. “It might be worth some taxpayer money to get that cat a tracker.”
“It always comes back,” Hadley muttered. “She should just leave it be.”
Mom’s hand tightened on her water glass. “She’s worried about her.”
“I bought a new horse,” Dad interjected, steering the conversation in a different direction.
For the first time in the evening, Shiloh’s gaze sharpened, focusing in on Dad. “Where?”
“Ramsey Bishop.”
I set down my beer. “He let you come out to his place?” Ramsey brought the term loner to a whole new level.
“No, he brought the gelding here.”
“There aren’t any new horses in the barn,” Shiloh argued.