"No," she said. "I sure as hell didn't peg you for the marrying kind."
I knew I wasn't that type, but hearing it from June, the girl I used to think I'd marry, still stung. "I was, once."
"Yeah, well, you're right, you know. The Cade I knew back then is long gone. I thought I saw a glimpse of him over the past couple of days, but I was wrong."
Part of me wanted to argue with her, tell her that Cade, the one from high school, was still there, that I wasn't completely lost. But that wasn't true. I was, and I'd been lost for a long time.
"Nope. You're right," I said. "That Cade is long gone." I turned away from her. I didn't want her to see my face. She'd always had an uncanny knack for being able to tell when I was lying to her. I started to walk away, toward the hallway, but stopped. I couldn't help but get in a parting shot. "I guess you'll have to find a new fuck toy now."
"Cade," she said, her voice cracking. For a moment, I thought about turning around, but I knew if I did I would be at her mercy. She already had too big a hold on me.
It would be better for her if she hated me.
It would be better for her if I were gone.
"I wondered when you'd be back," my dad said. His back was turned to me, and he ran a brush along the flank of one of the mares.
"You need some help with anything, Pop?" I lingered at the door of the barn.
"Need some help mucking out the stalls," he said. "Pitchfork is over there."
I worked silently, losing myself in the physical labor. Working the ranch had always helped me quiet my mind, no matter what the problem was. I was hoping it would work when it came to the thoughts about June. I just needed to silence what was going through my head.
"So," he said, finally turning to me when I'd made my way to the stall right beside him. "You've been at June's place for the past two days."
"Let it be, Pop." I didn't want to answer questions about her.
He ignored me. "Are you going to do right by that girl?"
"Pop." I turned toward him, set the pitchfork up against the side of the wall. "What are you talking about? Me and June, we're not anything."
He looked at me, his gaze unyielding. "Son, you and June have always been something. You've been something since the day you met. Now, I stood by and watched you throw everything away, push away everyone who loved and cared about you, when you ran off to California with the biker gang."
"Pop, I - "
He held up a hand. "Son, you're going to let me finish. I've been wanting to say this for some time now, and I'm going to say it. Now, I was right proud of you when you became a Marine. I was bursting with pride when you got the Silver Star. And I thought about what you said, about not really wanting to know what you did, being a sniper."
"I don't want to hear about how disappointed you are, dad. I've heard it enough."
"Cade Austin," he said, his voice clipped. "Let me finish."
I knew my dad meant business when he got that tone. But as much as I didn't want a lecture from him about how I was ruining my life, I also knew better than to just walk away. No matter how much I wanted to.
"You were right about me not really knowing what you did. I didn't want to think about how those deployments affected you." He kicked the hay on the floor around absently, looking down at his dusty boot. "I liked having you be a Marine, someone I could be proud of. But that was selfish. I didn't see the wear on you, not back then."
I swallowed hard. My dad was a man of few words. He never talked like this.
"When you got out, when you came back home for a couple weeks, your mother saw it. She said you were hurting. But I refused to think that way. I just couldn't see it."
"I was fine, dad." But I wasn't. I hadn't been fine in a long time.
"I'm a stubborn old man," he said. "I was wrong. Your mother was right. When you left to go to California, to work at the warehouse, I thought it was for the best. I thought it would be a fresh start for you."
I dropped my eyes to the floor. Here comes the guilt trip, the talk about the MC, I thought.
"I was angry when you joined the MC, couldn't see how you didn't understand you were throwing your life away. Now, I know - "
I laughed. "Now you see that I'm throwing everything away? Sorry to disappoint you, dad. I'm not the prodigal son you'd hoped for."
"No, you're not a prodigal son," he said. "You're just my son. You always have been, and you always will be. That's true, whether you're in the biker gang or you're not."
I hadn't cried in years, but I felt a lump in my throat. I cleared my throat, not able to look up and meet his gaze. "Okay."
"I know I've not been the best father," he said. "And I'm no good with words. Expressing things has never been my strong suit. Your mother complained about that fact until the day she died. But I do hope you know that I love you, Cade."
Jesus, I wasn't about to start crying here.
I cleared my throat again. "I love you too, dad."
My dad nodded, his eyes reddening. Then he coughed. "All this hay in here," he explained. "It's making my eyes water."