He missed having Shay come with him. Usually she did, but today she had to go see her father. Scowling, Reese dropped the reins on Smoke’s neck, lifted the Stetson off his head, and pushed his fingers through his freshly cut hair. He worried about Shay every time she saw that mean bastard. She always came home pale, her eyes looking wounded, moist, and sometimes reddened. It meant she’d cried by herself in the truck.
Aching to hold her during those times, Reese’s mouth flattened. He pulled the Stetson down across his brow, picked up the reins in his left hand and allowed the quarter horse to follow the fence. Up ahead, he saw wire was down. His horse automatically slowed, seeing it too. Reese grinned and as Smoke came to a stop, he dismounted and drew the tools from the saddlebags. The horse was trained to remain where he was once Reese dropped the reins to the ground.
As he worked to repair the three strands of barbed wire that were broken, he worried about Shay. She hadn’t told her father yet about the arena-raising, or the four homes that would be built at the same time. She had worried he’d be angry, but for the life of him, Reese couldn’t see why. She’d just shrugged and said it didn’t take much for him to get angry. He didn’t like what she’d done, taking the ranch in a different direction, helping fellow vets. For the past week, Reese had seen her trying to work up to telling her father. Shay knew that gossip about it would eventually get back to Ray, and she didn’t want him to be surprised by it. Damn. Reese’s protectiveness toward her was building powerfully within him and he’d almost asked if she wanted him to come along for that confrontation. But he hadn’t.
His leather chaps darkened with the dew on the grass as he knelt down and began to cut out the old, frayed wire. Shay was going to be seeing her father shortly after breakfast, and Reese had let Garret know he was going to ride instead of eat. Planning the arena-raising was taking up all his time, and his other work was falling behind. The only way he could continue to repair fence was to get up earlier, at sunrise, and make it happen.
*
Shay girded herself as she peeked in the open door of her father’s room. His empty breakfast dishes were on a rolling tray that he’d pushed away from his bed. He was in a pair of pale green pajamas that hung on his once powerful, muscular frame. Over the year, he’d lost a lot of weight. His black hair was thinning across his skull. She remembered when it was rich and thick. His brown-eyed gaze snapped up at her as she entered.
“You’re early,” he muttered, scowling.
Shay shut the door. She hated when his yelling at her drifted down the hall. Even the staff at the desk always gave her a sad look, knowing she was going into the lion’s den, as they referred to her father’s room. She forced a smile and placed her leather purse on the nearby dresser. “I had to get an early start, Father. There’s a lot going on and I have to keep ahead of it all. How are you feeling?” She wiped her damp palms on her jeans as she approached his bed. The sunlight was pouring into the large room, making it feel good and positive. But one look into her father’s eyes, and her stomach knotted.
“The same. Why the hell should I feel any different?”
“Just hoping.” She reached out to touch his hand that had cuffed her so many times growing up. Only now, the veins on the back of it were prominent, the skin shiny and thin, like the rest of him. She wrapped her fingers around his, squeezed them gently. He pulled his hand away, bringing it onto his lap, frowning.
Her heart sank. She wished he could love her. She wished he could say the words to her. But he never had. Shay had grown up knowing she was always underfoot. Her father hadn’t wanted any children, she’d found out. But her mother had insisted. She was the result. Her father had never been demonstrative. She’d never seen him kiss her mother, embrace her, or even hold her hand. She’d grown up calling him the Ice Man because she didn’t think he had a heart in his chest.
“What’s going on that you’re so busy?” he demanded.
Shay swallowed and tried to prepare herself. Launching into the plans for the arena-raising, how it came about, her words streamed rapidly out of her mouth. As they did, she saw her father’s thinning black brows go lower and lower. When she finished, breathless, she placed her hands on the side of the bed, fingers digging into the mattress.
“You’re taking handouts from strangers!” he yelled at her. “What the HELL were you thinking, Shaylene?”
Wincing, she felt the full power of his rage striking invisibly at her. She stepped away from the bed, fighting tears that always wanted to come when he yelled at her. “It’s not a handout, Father. Maud and Steve have given other ranchers desperately needed money to make ends meet. She has the finances to do that. She wants to do it for us.”
Curling his lip, he glared at her. “It’s SHAMING to us as a family. I NEVER took a dime from anyone!” He jabbed a finger down at the bed. “That ranch grew and was damned prosperous when I ran it! It’s humiliating to take money that don’t belong to you, girl! Just plain, damned wrong! What’s the matter with you?”