Grimacing, Shay looked at him. “I hope you’re wrong about this.”
“I do too,” he said. “Let’s take this one step at a time. You’re overwhelmed and I can see it in your eyes.” He released her hand and gave her a sympathetic look. “Maybe your father is lonely. Maybe he just wants to be back home. That nursing facility can’t be much fun to live in. And maybe that’s behind his request to come out here. It could be that simple, Shay. So we can’t afford to jump to conclusions. What we can do is be aware of possibilities, and that’s it until he shows us otherwise.”
*
Shay sat on the side of the house, on the porch swing, watching dawn light up the tips of the Wilson Mountain Range far to the west and across the valley. The birds were singing gaily, flitting around, and she saw a herd of elk skirting the fir trees in the distance. She enjoyed the fog that lay in soft, gauzy strands across the pasture. Everything was quiet right now and she hungrily absorbed it. Looking at her watch, she knew the vets would be up in a few minutes. There was a lot of preparation to be done today to get the arena-raising on track and working fluidly for Saturday.
Her heart turned to Reese. Last night she almost asked him to come and sleep with her. Intuitively, Shay knew Reese would hold her and she’d sleep deeply in his arms. He was a calm, safe harbor in her life. He always said the right thing to her at the right time. He never told her what to do, as her father had always done. He treated her as an equal and someone he respected. It felt so good, and she ached to be in his arms, to know what it would be like to fully love this man.
So much stood in their way. Shay found herself wanting Reese. She loved each time he would hold her hand or touch her. She always wanted to touch him. The conversation where he’d said that he felt he was half the man he used to be, ate at her. And she couldn’t ignore how Reese saw himself. Shay understood better than most about the shame that always came to a vet who had hit bottom. It was so hard to be objective and see that even she had made progress. Reese didn’t see it in himself, either. She wanted to remind him of his goodness, of the things he did well, the people he helped and supported. Reese saw none of it. Not yet. With her help she silently promised him, one day, he would.
She moved the swing slowly with the toe of her boot; she was wrapped in a warm nylon jacket to ward off the cool morning air. The quiet was going to be broken soon. Everything was changing. Shay prayed that she had the strength and flexibility to change with it. A part of her heart wanted her father at the ranch for the day. Her head did not. He could become contentious, a burr under the collective saddle of their efforts to make the arena-raising a success.
Rubbing her brow, a headache lingering, Shay wondered if Garret was right: that her father had his eye on running the ranch once more. There was a lot of darkness in Garret toward his own father. Was he projecting that onto her’s? Shay didn’t know.
Her heart ached for Reese. How she wanted an intimate relationship with him. Shay knew it would help her. And she knew she could support Reese emotionally and help him, as well. He was a bright spot in her life. But what part would her father play in her life? Like Reese, Shay wanted to believe he was missing the ranch. Who wouldn’t? Garret had darker suspicions, and she squirmed inwardly, feeling tightness begin in her stomach once more. Was she going to have to fight Ray at some point for control of the ranch? Was that his real reason for his change of mind?
Shay felt as if she were at the edge of a proverbial cliff with nowhere to go. Was her father coming out to watch, and then savagely scream at her and tell her she was destroying the family legacy? He was capable of doing it. He’d done it to her so many times before.
Wishing that Ray could see the good she’d done, how hard everyone worked to get the ranch back on its feet, was what she hoped for instead. But her father was an alcoholic. And he never admitted he had the disease, nor did he think he had a problem with liquor to this day. He was still in denial.
If her father could be that blind to himself, what made her think he was any less blind about the ranch? The headache worsened and Shay closed her eyes, wrapping her arms about herself as she rocked. Inwardly, she sensed Garret was right; that Ray wanted the ranch back. Wanted to remove her from running it. And if that was so, Shay knew he’d drive off the four vets. And herself. God . . .
Chapter Eighteen