Grady cut Maren a look across the cab. “Wow.”
Instantly, Maren’s face fell, remorse inhabiting every feature. “Grady, I’m sorry. That was cruel. I didn’t mean that.”
“No, I get it. I have a terrible dad, if you can even call him a dad. We all know he was awful. And I’m not at all saying your dad was like mine, there are just some things you don’t know about him. Some things I’ve never told you.”
“What things, Grady?”
“For starters, the fact that he forbade me from seeing you.”
Whipping her head, Maren’s eyes collided with Grady’s across the cab. “What do you mean, he forbade you?”
“That first summer when you came back from college, I was at your place waiting for you. Your dad and I got to talking. That’s the day he told me I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“He said you weren’t good enough?”
“Yeah, I think his words were something along the lines of me having too much talent not to pursue a future as a pickup man and you having too much potential for him to allow me to pursue you,” Grady confessed, surprised that he’d held Walt’s exact statement within him all of these years. “Your dad warned me more than once to stay away from you, Mare.”
Maren’s voice was hardly above a whisper when she muttered, “I had no idea.”
“How would you? I never told you.”
“But that night at the trailer…you seemed so sure when you said we were over. I thought you hated me, Grady. You were so convincing.”
Grady reached over and took Maren’s hand resting on her thigh. “I was not going to be the man to come between you and your father, Mare. Never. That wasn’t my place. I respected Walt, you have to know that. But I always loved you. That didn’t change just because he told me I wasn’t allowed to.”
“Why wouldn’t he want me to be with someone like you? I don’t understand. You always do the right thing, even when it’s hard. My dad knew that about you.”
“Yes, but he also knew that life on the rodeo circuit would provide temptations that apparently he didn’t think I was strong enough to resist.”
Maren’s forehead crinkled. “I don’t think that was his decision to make.”
“What it comes down to is that your dad didn’t want you settling for a cowboy. I’m sure that’s why he was always so encouraging when it came to your move to the city. I remember him telling you to set your sights high. Look for a life beyond those barbed-wire fences. He wanted more for you.”
“What does that even mean?” Maren’s pitch shot higher. “More for me? I think he just wanted something different for me. Because I’ve looked for more, Grady. I’ve tried to find someone that I could love more than you. And I’m telling you that man doesn’t exist.”
Hearing that made the words Grady was about to say next almost impossible to get out. “Maybe your dad wasn’t entirely wrong, Maren.”
“How could you say that?”
“Maybe someone else might provide you with a better life than I’ll ever be able to. I’m going to lose the ranch if I don’t start making a steady income and working as a pickup man at a handful of rodeos isn’t going to cut it. I’ll either have to travel a whole lot more or start something entirely new. Leasing our land to run cattle on helps, but it’s not going to be enough. I don’t have a plan, Mare, and you deserve someone who does.”
“I don’t need a plan, Grady.” Her fingers clenched around his. “You’re my plan.”
As much as he wanted to believe that was enough, he knew better. “What other questions do you have?”
Maren turned to look out the passenger window. Miles of barren land stretched out beyond the glass, rusted t-posts and bent wire fences the only mark of a human touch. She didn’t bring her eyes back to his when she asked, “How did he die?”
This was a long time coming and Grady knew it. He owed Maren this information—she had every right to it—but it wasn’t something he wanted to ever speak out loud. Still, he had to tell her.
“He was chasing that dang coyote off the property. The one that had been bothering your mom’s chickens. It had been hot that day and he and Remy posted up under the oak for a bit to find some shade. That’s when a huge branch snapped and Remy spooked. He reared up and over, landing right on top of your dad.” Grady swallowed. “I’d been out feeding and heard the whole thing. The crack of the branch. Remy’s horrific whinny. The chaos and commotion. I can still hear it when I think about it.”
Grady steadied one hand on the steering wheel and held tightly to Maren’s with the other, needing to hold onto any piece of her that he could as he said the next words.
“I got there and your dad was in a really bad way, Mare. Conscious, but barely. I gathered him up in my arms. Called 911. Prayed for him. He started confessing his sins, almost like he knew it was the end. At the time, I didn’t think his injuries were going to be fatal. But I suppose they were mostly internal.”
She didn’t bring her eyes back but Grady saw the lone tear that slipped from Maren’s eye as she stared out at the blurring periphery as the car continued down the highway.
“He asked me to take care of his girls. Those were his final words and I made that promise. I promised I would look out for you and your sisters,” Grady continued. “But honest to God, Mare, I’m doing a terrible job. Your mom is selling the house. You and Josie aren’t good right now—”
“We’ve never been good,” Maren interjected. “That’s not your doing, Grady.”
He pulled his hand from hers and raked it down his face. “I don’t know how to go from being told to stay away from you to being told to take care of you. But I gave your father my word that I would always look out for you, Mare, and I’m not going to break it. One way or another, I’m going to honor that commitment until the day I die.”
25
Maren
Maren didn’t want a big fancy life anymore. Truth be told, she never really did. Her time in San Francisco was fun, sure, but it wasn’t a place where she could permanently settle. She’d laugh when she’d hear the song lyrics, “I left my heart in San Francisco.” It was the opposite for her. She’d left her heart in Riverburn and all that she’d taken with her to the big city was an empty shell of the girl she once was.
She didn’t know how to tell Grady that—that he was her heart now.
When they finally pulled up to the Friar farmhouse—after a drive that ultimately left them both with more questions than answers—Maren hoped the tower of cardboard boxes lined along the porch railing would do the talking for her.
Grady squinted through the window as the rental car drew near, his gaze settling on the stack of packages that looked so out of place. “Seems like your mom and sisters are already packing up,” he said quietly, knowing that the sale of the ranch was still a tender topic.
“Those aren’t their boxes.”
He looked confused.
“That’s my entire San Francisco apartment.”