Ford was pulling through the gates of the ranch before he noticed the file folder of bank documents wedged between the truck door and the seat. Before he could try to formulate an appropriate response to them, a grin spread the width of his features. He had to return that folder to her, which meant he'd have to see her again. That definitely should not have pleased him as much as it did.
But a man can only exist with self-imposed guilt for so long before he begins to grow weary of his own self-loathing. He had no more business heading into his parents’ house at that moment than he had being so pleased, but he was going to do both anyway.
If he'd timed it right, he'd catch his daddy between his meeting with one of their cattle buyers and him heading back out to check the steers.
"Hey, Mama." He grinned as he stepped into the kitchen. That room had been one of his favorite places to be when he was a kid. She was almost always in there. Something was almost always cooking, and they had the perfect view of incoming storms from the window over the sink. As far as he was concerned, there was no better place to be.
"You don't know how good it is to see you smiling," Sara Holder stood on her tiptoes, jerked him down to her barely five-foot height, and kissed his cheek. "Now, sit down and tell me if this sauce needs more salt." She spoon-fed him a bite of some kind of tomato sauce.
He considered. "Yeah, maybe, but I'm a cattle rancher not a cook."
"But you used to like to eat," she countered. That wasn't her first comment about him not eating the way he used to. For the past few months, he just hadn't had much of an appetite for anything.
"It's good," he skirted the comment entirely. "Is Dad still talking to Miles?"
"Miles left an hour ago. He's in there with Dale."
The constant anxiety that had ridden Ford in the last few months bled to terror in an instant. Dale Miller was the lawyer who'd represented Ford against Meritt. His cousin Meridian was the deputy district attorney in Holder County, but Dale handled the civil accounts for the Holders. "What's Dale doing out here? She signed the damned papers yesterday. Jesus, what else does she want?"
And there it was. That sorrow he hated, but that everyone continued to display when they regarded him, formed on his mother's kind features. Everyone but Callie, he reminded himself. "I doubt it's got anything to do with Meritt, honey. It's probably something about us buying that parcel from the Tillmans. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No," Ford sighed, "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I need to get my head out of my ass." It had been an endless battle of Meritt demanding money from the joint Holder Family accounts and the Holder Land and Cattle business accounts, none of which she was owed, nor did Ford have sole access to. He was so tired of arguing over money, he swore if he could work out some kind of barter system for food, equipment, and clothes for the rest of his life, he would. Meritt making demands he had no hopes of meeting had created some kind of knee-jerk reaction for him. He was tired of feeling like a fucking failure.
His mother shook her head at him. "Some people aren't loves, sweetheart. They're lessons. Stop being so hard on yourself."
Yeah, well, if Meritt had been a lesson, it had taken him damned long enough to learn it. He'd obviously been in some kind of remedial course on marriage or something. For a rather large portion of this life, he'd told himself it was love. He'd become an expert on lying to himself the same way Callie said she had. They seemed to have a lot in common.
He didn't know which was worse—to have to acknowledge the truth that he'd never been in love or to realize he'd lived a lifetime mistake. Doubt continued to increase in magnitude until it closed its fists around his throat. Everything he'd once believed in was no more solid than the dusty wind he existed in. He hated that the solid ground he'd once stood on had turned to quicksand under his boots.
The familiar slap of the screen door and murmured talking preceded his brothers spilling into the kitchen.
"Knock the shit off ‘a your boots before you come in my kitchen," his mother called without taking her eyes off of the sauce.
Jamie, Dalton, and Wes retreated slightly, toed out of their boots, and then headed Ford's way.
Jamie slapped him on the back, laughing. "You're a dog, man, but damn, I guess you showed Meritt."
"What are you talking about?" Ford demanded. There was nothing like the sensation that you were watching your own life through some kind of old television set without an antenna. Things kept happening around him, to him even, but he seemed to always be the last one to figure shit out.
Wes's smirk was a duplicate of Jamie's. "Are you seriously gonna lie to us about last night? Come on now."
Last night? Ford's mind instantly filled with thoughts of Callie—the sheet marks that had marred her pretty features that said she'd slept well. The soft swish of her long skirt. Her worry over what she might have done with him. The way he wanted to take care of her. None of it made any sense at all, but he was too worn to have much control over his own thoughts. "And I repeat—what the hell are you talking about?"
"Would you three leave him be," his mother demanded. Jesus, that's just what he needed—his mother coming to his defense against his baby brothers.
"We're just proud of him, Mama." Dalton laughed.
"What the hell for?" Ford was growing weary of never knowing what the fuck was going on in his own life.
"Callie Monroe," Jamie spoke through his teeth now, but Sara Holder could hear one of her boys trying to hide something from her four thousand acres away. The distance of the expansive kitchen wasn't going to throw her.
"Callie?" His mother puzzled for a moment. "Are you talking about Abe Monroe's little girl?"
"From what I heard, she ain't so little anymore, Mama," Wes chuckled.
Ford rolled his eyes, but realization wound its way around his chest and made it difficult to breathe. He'd been certain word would get around town that he'd taken Callie home last night, but if all three of his brothers had already heard, the rumor mills were clearly running at full steam. He shook his head. "She had a rough night. I was just helping her out. I barely know her. Nothing happened," he vowed but couldn't quite ignore the hint of regret that tugged at him.
Jamie gestured his head towards their mother in an effort to get the rest of their trio to shut up, as if she was the reason Ford wasn't spilling details on his night. He wondered for a moment where their little sister, Halle, was. She was the only person he knew who could get all of her big brothers to shut the fuck up. If his own brothers didn't believe he and Callie hadn't slept together, he had no hope of convincing the entire town. And some devious part of him couldn't quite help but wonder if it would bother Meritt, if it might hurt her the way she'd hurt him. He shook that off. He did not want to be that guy.
He and Meritt were over, and he didn't want to hurt her, not really. He just wanted to be done with her. He wanted the vicious memories to give him peace. Besides, he didn't want Callie to have anything to do with his ex, even in his own mind.
Before he could futilely attempt to convince his brothers of anything, his daddy and Dale Miller made their way into the kitchen. Since talking to his father was the purpose of his visit, Ford hoped he could get rid of Dale quickly.
"Ford, how are you doing today?" Dale gave him that same polite but doleful smile that made Ford want to drive his fist through a wall.
"I'm fine," Ford insisted and didn't spare his lawyer his glare.
"Good. Good. Takes some time, of course."
"Dad, can I talk to you for a sec?" Ford's tone was more of a demand than a request, but he knew everyone in the room would let him get away with it. At least pity was occasionally useful.
"Sure, son," Barrett Holder nodded. "Can I get some coffee first or is this urgent?" His father, at least, managed to keep his sorrow to himself for the most part. He treated Ford just like he always had.
His mother shook her head. "You go on and talk to Ford. I'll bring your coffee in there in just a minute."
Dale offered the family a wave. "Barrett, I'll check on that lien, but I doubt it will slow up the purchase. They appreciate you buying the parcel off of them. They're anxious to get the papers signed."
His father gave a weary nod. "Well, I'm anxious to get cattle on the grass out there. I've got a shipment of steers heading in next week. Sara gets a little ornery when I have to put them in our yard."
Ford's mother gave them a quick grin. "Not that it's ever stopped you."
Everyone in the kitchen chuckled at that.
"That's because I married well." Barrett cringed at his own statement, and Ford fought not to beat his head against his mother's butcher-block countertops. Now even his father was walking on eggshells around him. Great.
"Anyway," Barrett cleared his throat, "having a mutual goal generally makes things easier. Thanks for stopping by."
"Nice to see all of you." Dale headed out the kitchen door.