“You know, when Clay called me about the old man dyin’, I was in a bad place. I was in such a bad place that every mornin’ when I woke up and looked in the mirror, I started seein’ Buford lookin’ back at me. I would be just as drunk and angry as I was when I passed out the night before. I hated that so much—becomin’ him, I mean. I hated it so much that I would spend the day keepin’ myself drunk in order to forget that image. I couldn’t break the cycle. I was so damn lost, angry because of it, unable to get over the hump to see a way out. All it took was one call from Clay and I felt somethin’ I hadn’t felt in a long damn time. Hope. Stupid as it sounds. I know I could have come back without that call, but it was like a rope danglin’ down to where I had been sitting at rock bottom.” He’s so lost in his thoughts, just petting Earl and looking off into the distance, not focusing on anything. I give him the time he needs, knowing that there’s more to come.
“I used that to help drive me. Motivate me to put down the bottle and see, for the first time, that I hadn’t lost everything. Instead, I was given a new chance to right everything I thought I had lost. So there I was, finally sobering up, but even with all that ridin’ me, I was still nowhere near leavin’ that bad place I had been stuck in. The second I got into Texas, it was as if the hope had disappeared. A feeling of dread over returnin’ to Pine Oak had joined the drive. I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about everything that happened before I left. What I did to you was a big part of it. By the time I got here I was feeling so sorry for myself that I used that and my anger with Buford to turn me back into that person I hate. Him.”
I pause, remembering the snarling hellion that had flown at me outside the church the day of Buford’s funeral. “You were grieving, Maverick. You were justified in your emotions.”
“I wasn’t grievin’. Not him, at least. I thanked the good Lord the day I found out he died.”
I nod, understanding his words a little better than I might have otherwise, thanks to Quinn. It doesn’t matter that Buford had worked hard to try to right his wrongs when he faced his own mortality. Sometimes it really is just too late. Buford did what he could to gain a semblance of respect from his oldest and youngest children—but whenever Maverick’s name would come up, he just kept saying that it was a lost cause and to let it be.
What if that’s the case here too? Are we a lost cause? Should I just let it be?
The silently asked questions make me pause as my heart speeds up.
“That man hated me, Leigh. Always did. I don’t have a single memory of him not hatin’ me. I didn’t find out until I had been gone for about four years that he didn’t just hate me because I was my mama’s favorite. He didn’t hate me because I didn’t love the ranch. It wasn’t because I wanted to ride. He hated me because when Mama left, she left her bastard son behind. When she left me she left him with a daily reminder of her infidelity. When it became clear that my callin’ was ridin’ and not ranchin’, I might as well have signed my own death certificate. I found out after my first big win that my biological father was another rider that she had caught the eye of when the rodeo came through Austin. There I was, his bastard, followin’ in my real father’s footsteps.”
He reaches out, leaning over Earl, and my shock-filled eyes drop to his outstretched hand.
“Bottle,” he commands.
I mutely hand it over, watching his throat work as he swallows.
“He beat me, Leigh. It wasn’t so bad when I was a real little young’un, but when I stopped ridin’ around the sheep—things got bad. After that day that I started learnin’ the ropes and ridin’ the stationary barrel over at Triple R ranch, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t put his hands on me. I never understood what I’d done wrong. I couldn’t figure out how to make it stop. I hid a lot of how bad it was from Clay and Quinn, but even so they understood that why I left had everything to do with runnin’ from him. I knew that it had to be done because every single day that went by, he was breakin’ me further. That was when I started trainin’ harder and focused on one thing—usin’ my talent and gettin’ the fuck away from Pine Oak.”
I swipe at the wetness under my eyes and keep my silence, letting him say everything he needs to say. Having him opening up like this, letting me in, and showing me a part of him that I know brings him pain has me nervous that one sound or movement might break the spell. My heart continues to break with each word he speaks, but even through that, understanding why he left goes a long way to ease the pain I’ve carried around like some stupid scar since.
“I found my mama, you know. What a mistake that was. She was so strung out on booze and drugs. She had no clue who I was. She thought I was someone lookin’ to score some ass for a couple bucks. It took me almost nine hours to get her coherent enough to even hold a conversation that made a little sense. The second she realized who I was, she just put it all out there. How I was a mistake from one night of fun. She got that taste of the high life and couldn’t think of anything else. Stuck around, but even I’m not sure how she did that and still managed to bring Quinn into this world. The second Quinn was in school, though, she was gone. I still can’t wrap my mind around the woman I saw as my mama bein’ the same one wasted out of her mind on the streets. She’s done so much damage to herself that she might as well be a vegetable.”
“Where is she now?” I ask, my throat thick with emotion. He gives a little jolt of shock, almost like he had forgotten I was there. His silence continues as he looks into my eyes, and I silently curse myself for speaking and halting his train of thought.
“In California,” he tells me in a sad tone. “She requires constant care now and will remain at the long-term-care facility until she dies. Last I checked she had a grocery list of health issues that wasn’t getting any shorter. The doctors are shocked her body hasn’t shut down yet, but for whatever reason, she’s still breathin’.”
My mind fires and I know instantly, without a doubt, that he is the one taking care of her. Even after everything she did to him and his siblings, he can’t let her go. “Do you still see her?”
He shakes his head, his blazing green gaze holding me captive. “I haven’t been in a year or so. The last time I was there she had to be sedated, she got so upset. All I did was walk into her room and it was like she had seen a ghost. She went insane, Leigh. I decided it was too much, her seein’ me, so I keep my distance and make sure she’s comfortable.”
“I’m sorry, Maverick.” And I was. I hated that this was the reality for him and his family. “Clay and Quinn, they don’t know all of this, do they?” I ask.
“No. What good would it do? They don’t need to see her like that anyway. It’s not somethin’ I’ll ever be able to get out of my mind.”
“You should probably let them make that call on their own, honey.”
He had looked off in the distance again, but the second the endearment slips from my lips, he jerks his eyes back to my face, studying me. “Maybe. Something to think about,” he allows.
“Do they know? About Buford not being your real dad?”
He shakes his head. “They’re all I have left, Leigh. Admittin’ I’m not their full biological brother would change things. I just know it.”