Page 113 of A Forever Kind of Rancher

“What?” she asked.

“You are the best daughter I could ask for. You are the daughter I want to have, no matter what you do.”

“But...but I just...”

“You don’t need to live your life atoning for your sister, Grace. You shouldn’t live your life for anyone. Not even me.” He took a heavy breath. “I think I’ve been too rigid, Grace. Success has always been important to me, and to your mother, because we know what it’s like to live in a world where opportunity is lacking. But...hearing you speak now, I feel... I feel that success, doing what someone else might think is right, is not so important if you are miserable in it.”

“I don’t want you to have to worry. The way she made you worry.”

“Grace, I’ll always worry. I’m your father. But that’s my job. And yours is to live.”

A tear rolled down Grace’s cheek.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too. No matter what you do. No matter where you work. But I’m not sure about an artist. They don’t make any money.”

She laughed. Her dad was handling all this much better than she could have anticipated, but even he had his limits, apparently. “Well, that’s the least of your problems, Dad. Because the artist doesn’t want me.”

“What an idiot he is.”

She swallowed hard. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”

Chapter Ten

Grace adjusted the strap on the back of her black stiletto before getting out of the car in front of the gallery.

She didn’t know if Zack would be thrilled to see her, but then...he might not see her. It was a crowded event, and Zack was the featured artist.

That show he’d been alluding to for the past couple of weeks was, it turned out, a charity event. And he’d never said. That man and his secrets. He was so closed off. So terrified of everything. And she couldn’t blame him.

For her, pain was a vague fear. She’d tested her worst fear, losing her father’s approval, and she’d been met with such kindness. Her fear hadn’t had teeth in the end.

The fear of a husband and father was the loss of his family. Zack had found that fear to be very real. For him, the worst nightmare could come and get you when you were awake, and she had no idea just how much that might color the rest of your life.

Or rather, now she did, because she’d seen it in him.

He was the strongest man she’d ever known. The most talented. Funny, sexy and genuinely life-changing. And he was locked up inside of himself. She couldn’t help him and it killed her.

But she could come to this. She could donate. She could give in the way that she could, and then maybe, after, she would feel a little more able to let him go.

The thought stabbed her in the chest like a knife, deep and deadly. She didn’t want to let him go. She wanted to keep him forever.

It just sucked that wasn’t an option. Like, big-time sucked.

It was amazing how two weeks in your life could change everything. And she never would have believed it if she hadn’t experienced it.

She smoothed down the front of her dress, and did a quick check to make sure the sweetheart neckline wasn’t giving away too many secrets, not that she had many to tell, then she walked up the steps and into the gallery, flashing her ticket as she went through.

The lobby area was filled with people glittering and chatting, drinking champagne and eating little canapés that passed on trays.

Zack must hate this. All of this. It was so very not him. The glitz, the tiny food...the lack of beer. But he was here, giving himself. Giving his talent.

This was Zack’s love on display. His love for his daughter.

Her heart squeezed tight and she walked through to the gallery. She stopped when she walked through the door, and just stared, a smile tugging at her lips.

The first piece was an iron bull, large bars of metal bent and twisted into impressionistic shapes that managed to look very real, even without minute detail. It was the strength in it, the movement, even as it was motionless on its pedestal.

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