Wind River Rancher (Wind River Valley #2)

Shay smiled at Reese as she picked up a large bone with meat and sauce on it. “I’ve been smelling this all morning. I’m starved.”

“You’ve earned this meal,” Reese told her. He raised his head, glancing at Ray, who sat opposite him. He was pretty good with his left hand, considering he was right-handed. He was making short work of that barbecued beef and the corn.

She looked over her shoulder. “Gosh, the place is suddenly quiet.” Everyone was taking at least a forty-five minute break to eat and rest.

Ray looked up, his gaze on the crane. “You’ll get that roof enclosed by tomorrow, sure.”

“I’m hoping so,” Shay agreed, wiping her mouth with the paper napkin. “It’s a huge place, Father. Sometime, I’d like to get you down there so you can see the inside of the arena after its finished. It’s really going to be amazing.”

“How the hell do you think I’m gonna get down there?” Ray jabbed his finger toward the arena. “I’m stuck with these goddamned wheels, girl.”

Reese opened his mouth to speak, but Shay beat him to it. Her voice was light.

“Father, if there’s a will, there’s a way. We already have plans to pour a concrete walk from our house up here, around the corral over there”—she pointed toward it—“and then on to the main entrance to the arena.” She reached out, touching his shoulder. “And when it gets done, we’d love to have you come out and give it your blessing.”

Reese ducked his head to cover his smile so Ray couldn’t see it. The man just stared at his daughter, mouth open, nothing coming out of it. Pride moved in his heart for Shay. She’d handled that perfectly. Instead of getting snared within Ray’s anger and frustration and becoming trapped by it, she was detached, which in this case was a good thing. Shay had pointed out the positives and gave Ray something to look forward to in the future.

Reese glanced over at Ray. The man was looking at Shay like she was an alien from Mars who had just landed. He wanted to throw his arms around her and hug the hell out of her for breaking her old pattern of getting hooked into her father’s anger. Glancing to his right, he saw Shay was composed and had resumed eating her meal as if nothing had happened. Her courage to try to change struck him profoundly.

“Well,” Ray grumped, stabbing his fork into the mound of macaroni salad, “I’ll think about that.”

It took everything Reese had to swallow his smile.

“What do you think of the four homes we’re building?” Shay asked him, waving her fork in that general direction.

“How big are they gonna be?”

“Twelve-hundred square feet. There will be two bedrooms and two full bathrooms.”

Reese tensed, knowing that Ray didn’t like vets in general. He saw his eyes narrow speculatively on his daughter.

“I just don’t understand you, girl. You could not only hire real wranglers, but charge them rent for stayin’ here, too. Instead, you’re mollycoddling these guys.”

Shrugging, Shay studied her father. “These vets are wranglers. And given that they’re donating fifteen percent of their paycheck back to the ranch monthly, I think it’s a just trade-off.”

Reese heard the strain and tension in Shay’s tone and saw hurt in her eyes. Her father didn’t get it. His daughter was a military veteran. She had “another” family, the men and women with whom she’d served. But Ray didn’t understand that dynamic in her life. He’d never been in the service.

“Instead, you could rent or lease those four houses out to anyone,” he muttered angrily. “That could be a lot of money comin’ in! Not a stupid fifteen percent!”

Shay winced and set her fork down next to her plate. “I’ve thought of that too, Father. But these men served with honor and they deserve our help. Our country has ignored them, but I refuse to. If I can offer them a hand up to get on steady ground once more, I’m going to do it.”

The grit in Shay’s voice made Reese’s heart swell. He knew better than to try to stand between father and daughter. They had to hash this out on their own terms, but he was coming damn close to telling Ray to stop calling his daughter “girl.” He held off, the tension turning brittle at the table.

Ray wrestled with himself. His thin lips pursed and he glared at Shay and then looked out toward the arena. Fingers never still on the fork, he kept tapping it on the card table. “You’re bullheaded, girl.”

“Father, stop calling me ‘girl.’ I’m not a girl anymore. I’m a grown woman. I passed that age and stage a long time ago, don’t you think?” Shay burrowed a look into her father’s squinty eyes.