I’m not afforded even two seconds to figure out my reaction because we’re interrupted by Jessie, who bounds into the room and announces dramatically, “I’m starving past death.” She’s followed by the rest of my family.
Dad takes his place at the head of the table, Mom sits beside him, Gramps across from her, and the rest of us are in the seats we’ve sat in every day since we can remember.
We start eating, but I can’t taste my food. I’m on autopilot. My mom’s eyes look worried, and Wyatt asks, “What’s wrong, Mom?”
Her eyes flash over to me before she answers. “Just one of my goats. She was limping today. She’s just a little thing.” She bites the side of her lower lip, and I get the feeling she’s not making it up. “I’m not sure what happened. I hope she’s all right.”
“She’ll be just fine, Mom,” Warner assuages. “I think you love those goats more than you love us.”
“Depends on the day,” she teases. It sounds forced to my ears, but nobody else appears to notice.
When dinner is over we go our separate ways. Warner heads to his cabin, Jessie leaves to stay the night at a friend’s house, my parents are reading in the study, and Wyatt takes off in his truck, probably headed to a bar in town. I step out front and call Dakota again. This time, I leave her a message. “Hey. Just checking in. Haven’t heard from you.”
When I turn around, Gramps is sitting in a chair behind me, two cold-looking beers set out on the table. “For a slow-mover, you’re shockingly agile.”
He flips me the bird and tells me to sit. I listen, popping the tab on both beers and handing one to him.
He takes a long drink, holds a fisted hand to his mouth as he burps, and says, “Beautiful out here, isn’t it?”
“Always is,” I respond, taking a pull from my beer.
He gestures out at the sunset with a flattened hand, his palm parallel to the horizon. “You see that salmon color? It was your grandma’s favorite.”
I nod. “I bet you miss her. I know I do.”
“I miss her like you wouldn’t believe. Right here.” He thumps the skin over his heart. “I feel it right here. The rest of me just hurts because I’m old. I’m telling you Wes, aging is a real bitch.”
I chuckle and keep my own aches and pains to myself. Something tells me my saddle soreness is nothing compared to what he feels.
“How’s Dakota?” he asks, his gaze sliding over to me.
“Good, Gramps. She’s good.”
“You sure about that? Because I heard Warner telling Wyatt she’s ignoring you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You can’t hear half the shit we say to you, but gossip about my love life you manage to hear?”
He doesn’t respond, just waits patiently for me to provide a real answer. I sigh. “My mom put her nose where it didn’t belong and something tells me Dakota didn’t appreciate it.”
“I’m sure your mother meant well.”
I nod. “She did. Still doesn’t mean she should’ve done it.”
“Good point.” He looks back out at the sky.
“Do you know Dad changed the trust? I can take over the ranch now without being married first.”
“Who do you think told him to do it?”
“You…?” My eyebrows lift. When he nods, I say, “Thank you.”
“The rule was outdated, and it means something different in these modern times. Back when my dad decided on the rule, people were more likely to marry for practical reasons, and nobody ever said love was practical. Did you know your grandma and I knew each other less than a month before we got married?”
I stare at him, surprised. “How have I never heard that before?”
“Your parents probably kept it from you because they didn’t want you going and doing something so crazy.” He laughs at his own joke, and it makes me smile.
“Too late,” I quip, tipping the can to my lips.
“Barely one month we knew each other before we tied the knot, and we were married fifty-six years. Marriage is hard no matter what, Wes, and dating her for years before marrying her wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. Just woulda kept me from having her in bed, because back then we didn’t do that before marriage.” He cackles while I cringe, trying not to think of my grandma that way. “From what I can tell, you’ve gone and fucked this up something awful, but it’s salvageable. Everything is.”
My hand flies to my chest. “I’ve fucked this up?”
“Yep. You young people make it all so difficult. You went and asked her to marry you to get the ranch, and I can see why, but I think you bit off a little more than you could chew. I might be near deaf, but I’m not blind. My advice? Cut the shit and tell her you’re in love with her. You can still marry her, but don’t do it without telling her how you feel. She deserves that.”
My head’s spinning. It’s like he reached into the recesses of my mind and said everything I think but can’t seem to say. And how does he even know about marrying Dakota to get the ranch? When I ask him, he says, “Overheard your mom and dad talking.”
I throw up my hands and he snickers. I gather both our empty cans and stand, but Gramps stops me with an outstretched arm. “Your dad told me you attended a meeting at the VFW.” He nods at me, serious now. “Proud of you, Son. There’s nothing braver than a man getting help when he needs it.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, uncharacteristic shyness creeping in.
“So, what are you going to do about Dakota now that the trust has been changed?”
“I don’t know, Gramps. I just found out about it. I need time to think.”
“I won’t tell you to hang on to something you don’t think is right. What I will tell you is that if you think you’ve got a shot at happiness, you owe it to yourself and to all those men you fought alongside who didn’t make it back. They didn’t fight so you could mope around your house and deny yourself life’s pleasures. This is the land of the free, remember? They fought and died for your freedom, and that affords you the opportunity to love the person you see fit to love. Denying yourself would be a fool’s move.”
I’m stunned. “Gramps, I…”
He waves me off. “Don’t say anything, Wes. Just think about what’s best for you. If you could have everything you wanted, what would that look like?”
Gramps gets up. He tells me goodnight and walks into the house. After a few minutes, I follow him in and deposit the cans in the recycling bin. I check my phone. Still nothing from Dakota, but an idea pops into my head and it makes a grin spread on my face from ear to ear.
I type out a quick message to my friend who I had look into Dakota. My embarrassment at jumping to conclusions at that celebration dinner hasn’t faded.
Lucky for me, he’s still at work and writes me back.
All set, he says.
I slip my phone in my pocket and head toward the back door. Excitement flurries through me, making me take my steps at double-speed. I need to grab my truck keys from my cabin and get into town. I need to see Dakota, need to tell her that I just—
Warner bursts in through the door as I’m reaching for the handle. Panic makes his eyes wide and wild, his movements shaky. “The barn is on fire.” His voice is just above a whisper, as if he can’t believe the words are coming from him.