More than once I’d come across him standing outside the master bedroom door trying to decide if he should go in or not. He looked so lost in those moments that I’d wanted to pull him into my arms and take his pain away. I couldn’t imagine what having Randall Ellis for a father was like, but I doubted it was pleasant.
I had made up my mind yesterday morning that I was through killing myself in order to stay away, but when I came back for lunch, he was doing freaking yoga in the sunroom. I saw him in those low hung yoga pants, and I got out of there so damn fast you’d have thought my ass was on fire.
This morning, while I was working on the front section, I saw his bright pink Jeep driving down the road. I didn’t know if I was relieved he left or worried ‘cause he was gone, but either way, I urged King back up to the house to take advantage of the situation. I was in the barn removing his tack when Landon offered to finish up for me. I wouldn’t usually take him up on it. Grooming King after a ride was something I enjoyed, but today I was on edge, and it seemed like a good idea.
I started for the house, but Cruz was waiting for me. He was my oldest friend and knew me better than anyone else. We met when we were both new to the rodeo, and then competed together in team roping for years. You didn’t become that in sync with someone without knowing them well. We walked in silence for a minute, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Just spit it out,” I said.
“Spit what out?”
“Whatever it is you’re wantin’ to say. I can see you got something on your mind.”
“You can’t keep pretending he isn’t here,” he said simply, not beating around the bush.
“I know.”
“Have you given any thought as to why it's bothering you so much for him to be here?”
“What is there to think about? Randall agreed to sell his half of the ranch to me; assured me his son didn’t want to be here and would sell me his half, as well. Then the SOB up and died and left it all to the kid.”
“He isn’t a kid, Reed. He’s a grown man.”
“I’m well aware of what he is,” I insisted.
“How would you be? You’ve barely spoken two words to him since he got here.”
“And the rest of you, on the other hand, have spent so much time with him,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Actually, Bart and Landon have spent quite a bit of time with him. Landon is thrilled to have another gay man on the ranch his age, and I spent most of yesterday afternoon with him.”
I jerked my head toward Cruz. “You what?” I grabbed him by the arm, stopping him from walking.
“While you were out checking fences that didn’t need to be checked, again, I spent the afternoon with him. He helped me reorganize the tack room after someone pulled everything out when they were frustrated. Nothing was where it belonged, Reed. We had a good afternoon, but man he’s hurting something awful being back here on the ranch. I’m not sure if it’s losing his dad or just being back home, but something’s got him all messed up.”
“It’s probably just being here. Randall said he always hated it here,” I insisted, knowing that wasn’t true.
“I’m not so sure about that. Did you know, when he was a kid, he showed sheep in 4-H? That was why that old barn is off over behind the house. He’s real interested in gardening, too.”
“City boy is interested in gardening? Yeah, right,” I scoffed.
“Odds are, when this year is over and done, he’ll be willing to sell the ranch. I know you know that, so what’s really going on with you?” he asked. I didn’t say a word, just resumed the walk to the house. “Reed, you’re going to have to get your shit together. Your boy is going to be here for a year.”
“He isn’t my boy,” I spat out.
“And that’s the real issue, isn’t it? I’ve seen the way you watch him. I don’t think you’ve wanted anything the way you want that boy, not even our last championship. How long has it been since someone called you Daddy?”
“Tell me again what I was thinking when I told you about me and Dean?”
He laughed. “No idea, but you did.”
“Seriously, Cruz, it’s been way too long, but it’s not like there are very many cowboys out there looking for a Daddy, and not that many other guys willing to live on a ranch.”
“Yet, here’s Ripley, on the ranch, with boy written all over him.”
“And in a year’s time, he’ll be my boss. Well, I guess technically he is now since he’s already half-owner. He’s been rude from the moment he got here, he doesn’t want to be here any more than I want him here, and he has a hot pink fucking Jeep.”
“What does the Jeep have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know, it just seemed relevant at the time,” I growled, and Cruz cracked up laughing while I glared at him. “I’m going to go inside where there’s peace and quiet. You go pretend you work here.”
He tipped his hat at me. “Sure thing, boss man.”
I shook my head at him and went into the house. In the kitchen, I fixed myself a sandwich and grabbed a drink. I took that to the office and pulled up the accounts on the computer. It wasn’t my favorite part of running a ranch, but it had to be done. I took a bite of my sandwich, and as I lowered it back to the plate, I heard a whimper. I looked down and Ripley’s little dog was sitting there looking at me expectantly. I glared at the dog and took another bite. Its eyes followed my sandwich like it was starving to death.
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to have people food. Go on, get out of here.” It just looked at me and let out another pathetic little whine. I scooped it up and took it to the kitchen where its food bowl sat. It looked at the bowl, turned, and ran down the hall toward the office. I took off after it but wasn’t fast enough. I rushed through the door just in time to see the little shit jump from the chair up on the desk, grab half my sandwich, hop back off the desk, run around my legs, and down the hall. I plopped back down in my chair and looked at my plate. At least it took the part I had already eaten most of. I finished my sandwich and took my plate back to the kitchen. I planned to go back to the office to get some more work done, but I heard a sound coming from the mud room. A high-pitched growling sound with an occasional yip mixed in. I went to see what the commotion was about. Just inside the door we had a boot rack that we all put our boots on when we came into the house, and damned if the little runt wasn’t attempting to drag my boot off the rack. She was tugging and growling at it. It was easy to see she was highly offended by my boots refusal to be her latest chew toy.
If Ripley insisted on having this sorry excuse for a dog in the house, we were going to have to get some gates and set up some physical boundaries. I bent over and picked the dog up cautiously, prepared for it to try to gnaw on me like she had my boot. It was rarely a good idea to grab a growling dog. It froze as I lifted it and as soon as I was standing up straight, it squirmed in my grip. I had to tuck the dog close to keep from dropping it and wasn’t that just what I needed. I could picture it now. But Ripley, I didn’t mean to drop your dog on its head and break its neck. Yeah, not happening.