Page 56 of The Last Dance You Saved
I nodded.
“She thought I was someone else. A stranger. She never would have hurt me if she’d known it was me.”
Acid burned up my throat. “She cut you?”
She shook her head. “No, she elbowed me out of the way, and I lost my balance. I fell and hit my head.”
I rubbed my beard. Anger at Lauren welled inside me, self-loathing cresting like a giant wave for not being someone my daughter could trust with the truth, for not being someone she could rely on.
I softened my voice as much as possible so she wouldn’t think I was upset with her. “You could have told me. I would have listened, Fallon. I should have known what was happening.”
Tears ran down her face as she shook her head. “You would have made me leave.” The words were pained, and each syllable held a crack of agony that snapped in the air. “You would have had even less reason to keep the ranch if I wasn’t here. And she needed me, Dad. She couldn’t lose me and Spence at the same time. You said it yourself. She’s barely surviving now.”
My throat closed, and I had to fight back the tears that stung my eyes. It took me several long seconds to pull myself together enough to say, “I know it feels like you’re an adult, Ducky. At your age, I would have sworn I knew everything important there was to know, but you aren’t, and you shouldn’t have to deal with adult problems and situations.” She started to protest, but I cut her off, surprising her by joining her on the bed and pulling her into my arms. It took her a minute, but eventually, she relaxed, settling her head on my shoulder. “You’re not alone, even if I made you feel that way. You’re not Buffy, Fallon. I’d never let you fight a battle to save the entire fucking world by yourself. I’m sorrier than I’ve ever been for anything in my entire life that you thought you had to.”
She sobbed. “I wanted to be able to handle it myself so I didn’t cause anyone more trouble.”
Sadie’s words from earlier, about how my daughter thought it was her fault our family was broken, returned to me.
I kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tight. “Listen to me closely. No one thinks you’re trouble. Not a single person. You were a gift we were lucky to receive. It was our job—Spence, your mom, and me—to protect you and to make sure you knew how much you were loved. I’m so damn sorry we failed you in that way. So sorry that our adult bullshit, our screwed-up relationships, landed on you and made you feel as if you were responsible for breaking us.”
My emotions leaked out, making the words deep and guttural and raw.
“I’m the one who did the breaking, Fallon. Me. Not you. Not your mom. Not even Spence.” The truth of it hit me hard. I was angry when I left the ranch, and I’d taken it out on Spence and Lauren when the person I was most angry with was myself.
I was the one who’d let down my family. I’d known Lauren really loved Spence, and I’d tried to make her mine anyway. In hindsight, leaving was probably still the best thing I could have done, because it had allowed them to love each other without always looking over their shoulder to see if I was watching and brooding and staining what they had with my own ugly emotions.
I’d achieved every damn success in my life out of spite, determined to prove to them that I didn’t need them. That I could make more money, achieve more, have more success than any of them could ever imagine. And I’d done it—done it in spades—but I’d lost my daughter, my brother, and the ranch in the process.
“I’ve tried to keep it from falling apart, Dad. I really have.”
“Again, it wasn’t your job. It was the adults in your life who needed to shoulder that responsibility. Not you. I’m sorry you felt like you had to. But I’m here now, and you won’t ever have to shoulder anything alone again. I promise you.”
She sniffed and pulled away, giving me a watery smile. “Does that mean you’ll let me keep the ranch?”
A strangled laugh escaped me because she was so smart and savvy and so like me that it made me ache. “I can’t promise you that yet. But I will promise to look at where everything stands and what it would take to make it viable, even if it means turning it into some damn dude ranch. Can I ask you to promise me something back?”
She looked nervous but nodded.
“I want you to consider what your life might be like if you left the ranch someday.” She started to shake her head and protest, but I cut her off. “You’re too young not to explore all your options and all the possibilities this big world has for you. I don’t want you to get trapped into this life and someday look back and resent it. I don’t want you to regret never allowing yourself to have any other dreams simply because you thought you needed to make Spence and Lauren’s dreams your own.”
When she looked away and down, I knew I’d hit upon a portion of the truth. She didn’t want this to fail because she didn’t want Spencer’s dreams to wither away.
“And if this is what I really want?” she asked.
God. Would I keep the dying dinosaur alive just so she could have what she wanted most? Wouldn’t any good father give his child the moon if they asked for it?
“Let’s both just promise to look into all the possibilities for now.”
A knock on her door was followed by Maisey and Sadie walking in, each carrying two mugs. The smell of steamed milk and melted chocolate drifted through the room. I rose from the bed, letting Maisey take my spot. She distracted Fallon, telling her how Sadie had made the hot chocolate from scratch and how it tasted a million times better than anything from a package she’d ever had, even better than the one at the coffee shop downtown.
I recognized the constant chatter as Maisey’s way of easing her friend’s worry, and I appreciated the teen even more than I had before when I’d seen her as the counterbalance to Fallon’s energy.
When I took a cup from Sadie, our hands brushed, and heat zipped along my nerve endings. When I met her gaze, I could practically see the hundred questions she had floating in her eyes.
Sadie and I drank our hot chocolate in near silence, listening to the girls instead. When it was clear everyone had calmed down, that the tears and fear had been taken over by talk of high school and boys, I felt it was time to leave before I lost my cool—this time over the idea of some hormonal teen putting the moves on my daughter.
“I’m going to sleep in the guest room across the hall tonight,” I told Fallon. “I’ll be right here if you need anything. There’s no one in the house who shouldn’t be, but I still would like it if you slept with your door locked for the next few nights. And we all need to make sure the house doors are kept locked at all times.”
