Page 16 of Wrangle Me

Pa leans back in his rocker, slow and methodical. His eyes are on the fields, but I know he sees more than just crops and fences. He’s looking at legacy. At the life he built. At the parts that still ache. The old man’s always been quiet, but when he speaks, it counts.

We both stare out at the land while the whole ranch sleeps under the stars. I swear, it’s easy to see the life that should be unfolding between Maisie and me. The future we could still build is so clear in my mind. All I have to do is convince her that I’m the man she thought I was.

The moon casts soft silver across the pasture. I can hear the distant moo of a cow and the rustle of dry leaves in the breeze. It’s quiet out here, but not empty. It’s the kind of silence that invites the truth. I head for another beer, then hesitate. It seems strange to drink with someone who had such a long road to find sobriety.

But Pa doesn’t miss a beat.

He waves me off and settles deeper into his rocker. “Go on. Have another. It don’t bother me none. It’s been a long time since I went looking for answers at the bottom of a bottle.” He pauses. Then he takes a slow sip of his water, and his head tilts ever so slightly. “When are you gonna come clean about what the problem is?”

I let out a dry chuckle. “What, I can’t show up to sit with my dad for the night?”

He snorts. “Y’all can. But you don’t. You come here to throw darts, get in stupid-ass fights with your brothers, and raid my fridge. Since none of that’s happening tonight, why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

I take a long drink and let the cold burn settle in my chest. The words roll around in my mouth for a beat, then slip out before I can second-guess them. “Maisie’s pregnant.”

The words land between us like thunder. But I don’t regret saying them. Instead, hearing it out loud makes my chest swell with emotion. It’s equal parts fear and pride, yet I still can’t believe it’s real. Pa doesn’t flinch at the weight of my words. Instead, he trains his steady gaze on mine.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, a slow smile forming. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, I think it is. I just found out today.”

He reaches across his rocker and claps a hand on my shoulder. His touch is firm and grounding. In our family, this is as close as I’ll get to a hug, and it is comforting.

“Congratulations, son. You’ll do one hell of a job.

“Thanks, Pa.” I look down at my boots, scuffed and dusty like everything out here. “Only… I can’t even get her to talk to me about it. She’s freaked out. She totally shut down and pushed me away.”

“Then convince her not to be,” he shrugs. “No matter what it takes. Don’t you let her go, Callum. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. A better one than I ever had, and you don’t want that kind of regret.”

“Yeah, I know.”

We let it sink in for a beat. The silence grows deeper and heavier now.

“You’ll do better than I did. I’ve got more regrets than I know what to do with. But not you, you’ll figure out how to give her what she needs.”

“You did alright, Pa,” I murmur. “Worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

He huffs a breath through his nose, half laugh, half something else. “You think so?”

I glance at him and let out a chuckle. “Six out of seven ain’t bad… Are you ready to come clean about Danner?”

He doesn’t even blink. Instead, he just waves me off. “Didn’t think I needed to. The world's already figured it out. The boy looks just like the rest of y’all.”

It’s as close to an admission as I’m going to get, at least for now. It’s nothing I didn’t already know, but hearing him confirm it unsettles me. “Nah, he’s not nearly as good-looking as the rest of us.”

Pa grunts, but it’s laced with a touch of amusement.

I smirk. “It was the D name that gave it away. Alexander, Bowen, Callum, Danner, Fallon, Geoffrey, Holden…” I tilt my head toward him with a laugh. “Hell, we’ll name the baby with an E. That way, we can round out the alphabet you never quite completed.”

His jaw ticks. His eyes narrow just slightly, like I’ve struck something deeper than I meant to. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

That gets my attention. I straighten. “What does that mean?”

But Pa waves me off again with that same old evasive flick of his hand I’ve seen a thousand times. It meansnot tonight, not now,or maybe,fuck right off.

“Go fix things with your girl,” he says, getting to his feet. “That’s where you ought to be right now.”

I stare at him for a long moment, knowing our conversation is over. It’s times like this that makes me remember that Pa is just a boomer doing boomer shit at his core. He’s made peace with whatever it is he isn’t saying, even if I haven’t.

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