Page 187 of Mad As Hell

He let out a desolate sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him, standing near the foot of the bed. “But why would I change anything?”

“Because this will be your home,” he replied, like the answer was obvious.

When I couldn’t think of anything to say, he gestured to the chair adjacent to the bed. “Please, sit. But first, there’s a box in the top drawer of my dresser. Would you please get it for me?”

Nodding, I went to the dresser and opened the top. Sure enough, there was a red box inside sitting beside a stack of photos and old letters wrapped with a rubber band.

I took it out and slid the drawer shut before I went to the chair he’d indicated. Reaching over, I tried to hand him the box, but he waved me off.

“Open it.”

Frowning, I tugged the lid up. Inside was a simple silver ring. There wasn’t anything fancy about it, and it was definitely way too big for me. I shot him a curious look.

“That was my wedding ring,” he explained. “Clara put it on my finger, and I didn’t take it off until a few weeks ago.” He held up his left hand, looking at it with longing. “The tumor eating away at my brain stole most of my appetite, and with the weight loss, it kept slipping off. I finally put it aside when I nearly lost it last month.”

His eyes lifted to mine. “I want you and Ryan to have it. I know you’ll likely get your own, but since everything is happening so fast, I thought you might need a ring.”

I glanced down at my engagement ring, the same one he’d given his wife when they’d had nothing and his family had disowned him. “You chose love over your family.”

He looked surprised. “Ryan told you?”

“When he gave me the ring. The first time.” I wrinkled my nose. The beauty of that memory had been tainted by the shitstorm that kicked up later that night.

“I love my grandson, but he can be a fucking idiot.”

My jaw dropped.

The twinkle in his eye was something I’d seen in Ryan and Cori. “I know he messed up. I’m glad you gave him another chance. His father is like napalm. Corrodes and corrupts everything he touches. He messed with that boy’s head for years.”

“Beckett’s an asshole,” I agreed.

“I can’t promise Ryan won’t mess up in the future,” he warned.

I grinned a little. “Oh, I’m sure he will. Then again, I’m no saint myself.” I closed the box and wrapped both hands around it. “Thank you for giving us this. I know it’ll mean a lot to Ryan, and it means something to me, too. Family’s never really been a thing I had.”

“You do now,” he assured me. “You have a family and a home.”

“Ryan said this place has been in the family for generations,” I started, “but your family disowned you, didn’t they?”

“For a bit. Until my father died. My mother was always the softer of the two. We reconciled after his death. She never wanted anything to do with business, so Clara and I agreed to take over Brookfield. She loved working the land. She was always in the fields during harvest season.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” Seeing the husks that remained from the last season made me want to know what it looked like when the land was full of life and promise.

“And I’m sorry I’ve seen my last,” he admitted. He took a slow, deep breath and began coughing. When he turned away, I jumped up and grabbed the box of tissues on the medical cart by his bed.

“Here.” I pressed them into his hand and helped him sit up until the fit passed. With a grimace, I took the used tissues and tossed them into the garbage can, trying my best to ignore the flecks of blood dotting the white napkins.

“Sorry about that.” A wheezing rattle echoed in his chest.

“No need to apologize,” I assured him, meaning it. I sat on the edge of his bed and wrinkled my nose. “I’ve cleaned up my mom’s projectile vomit more times than I can count. A few used tissues is barely a blip.”

He gave a low chuckle and patted my hand. “You’re a good girl, Madison. I can see why he loves you. But I need to ask a favor of you.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t let Beckett ruin him.” The fierce spark in his eyes was at odds with the pale color of his cheeks and the frailty of his body. The weathered hand atop mine squeezed with surprising strength. “I vowed I would get him and Corinne free of their father, but I fear I’m running out of time.”

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