Page 38 of Tough Love

I flick the knife on the table around on its weighted handle. It spins easily on the polished wood.

“That so? What did it say?”

“A write-up about her losing her horse in the accident.”

“Oh, how did that happen?” Harry asks.

I flick the knife harder.

“Snake bite on a show jumping course.” Reed’s answer is short but accurate. As if he can sense my growing annoyance at the both of them talking about Addy.

“Show jumper, hey,” Harry says, as if imagining Addy sailing over a jump.

“At the Olympic qualifiers, too. She must have been really something, Harry,” Reed adds.

I slam the knife on the table. Both men snap their gazes to where I sit, knife still under my hand. “Stop talking about her like she’s some topic of gossip!”

Reed throws both hands up over his shoulders. “Take it easy, Huddo. I’m only telling Harry her story.”

“If she wanted you all to know, she would have told you.” I push up out of the chair and storm to the study. The laptop is still on. I don’t dare look at the tabs Ma has open. I don’t want tosee or hear or imagine anything else about Addy hurt or scared or in pain.

Fucking sweet Jesus.

I run both hands through my hair and my shortened breaths steel my steady footing. I slump on the reading chair in the corner before I sink to the ground. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. Thinking of taxes, shoveling horseshit, and anything that will get that picture of young Addy and her beloved horse out of my head. And when her broken face from yesterday stops flipping through my mind on replay, I sigh and open my eyes.

Ma stands in the doorway.

“She told you?”

I don’t trust my words. Anger, frustration, and something like helplessness are still coursing through my veins. So, I simply nod.

“We wanted to understand, Huddy. It wasn’t meant to be intrusive.”

“Great job, Ma.”

She swallows, and I know I hurt her feelings. And when I am sure I won’t say something even stupider, I stand and walk to where she leans on the doorframe. “Sorry, Ma. I don’t know why this is riling me up so much.”

She pulls an incredulous face and tilts her head before patting my chest. “My love, I am one hundred percent certain you’ll figure it out.”

Dinner is quiet. Only the sounds of cutlery clinking make it past the guilt-ridden murmurs of my family.

“Oh, I forgot to say, Mackinlay is coming home this weekend. He got off tour early.” Ma’s face lights up.

“Awesome, I could use some better company than king grumpy over here.” Reed points his fork at me.

I throw him a scowl, and he huffs a laugh.

“How long does he have off?” Harry asks.

“A few months, possibly three if the other team can fill in for his unit. He won’t be here for Thanksgiving.” Ma’s expression deflates. She misses him and worries like nothing else for Mack. Having a son in the army wasn’t part of her plan for us boys. But Mack has always done what Mack wants. And when he enlisted, she supported him the only way she knew how—with unconditional love and a shit ton of baked goods.

“Speaking of family business,” Harry starts. Reed puts his fork down and steeples his fingers. I slump back in my chair. “We should go over the last quarter for the ranch and the company holdings.”

“Fire away,” I say, waving my hand in the air.

Harry sits up in his chair and picks up a small manilla folder from the table by his plate. “This will be the last roundup I’m on. You will take point this roundup, Hudson. And when we get back, the money from these cattle will go towards our off-ranch investments, namely the clinic. Justin wants out. So, we will be buying him out. Along with the clinic, we have half shares over in Great Falls. And with the equity that brings, we will start looking at other ranches. Adding another two into the business is smart. However, all this is to say that the outcome of the roundup will be your testing point. It’s high time you called the shots. If you are to take over the ranch at the end of the year, I want to see some leadership. The ranch doesn’t need a yes-man, son.”

Reed’s gaze is firmly fixed to the plate in front of him. Harry’s burns into mine.

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