Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Daisy’s smile is tight. “Then perfect. You won’t mind listening to what I have to say then.” When I don’t argue, she continues. “See, after you left, someone had to step up and start running this place. Your father’s been on a steady decline for years, and at a certain point, it got so bad that we had to ask him to step down. And I bet you can guess how that went.”
I look away and try to picture my father, big and tall and proud, backing down from working on the ranch. That’d be like asking him to cut off his own leg and give up any purpose he had in this world, and I’m positive he would’ve fought against that like a rabid tiger. That fact that he eventually gave in makes me believe Daisy’s story, that he really was in bad shape.
“You weren’t here,” Daisy says, her voice low now, gentle and accusing. “You ran off when things got hard, and you left us to pick up the pieces. You stirred the pot, got everyone upset and angry and hating each other, and then you dipped out like none of that was your problem. Your father was a wreck when you wouldn’t come home, and slowly but surely, he fell apart, and the ranch began to fall apart with him. I had to make changes, streamline things, get rid of all the excess employees, trim the fat, or else we would’ve gone under years ago. You have no idea what state the ranch was in, Melody, but I do. Because I saved it.”
I try to imagine what she’s saying. It’s totally plausible the ranch was in bad financial shape—I never saw the books and have no clue how much was going out and how much was coming in—but it feels impossible. My father loved this place, he was obsessed with making sure Leader Ranch was as successful as possible, and the idea that he’d somehow mismanaged it so badly that it was on the verge of closing feels crazy.
And yet neither of my uncles disagrees. They stand there looking hard and annoyed, probably pissed they have to deal with this instead of sitting down to watch basketball or whatever they waste their time with, and some part of my skepticism falters. If what Daisy’s saying is true, then everything my father told me and War is painted in a new light. If Dad really has been declining for a while, it’s about more than his lung cancer. There could be other problems, like Alzheimer’s or something like that, and I wouldn’t know a thing about it because I haven’t been around to watch it develop.
“Now try to see it from my perspective,” Daisy says. “I work hard to save the ranch. It’s not what it was, I won’t deny that, but at least it’s still open and functioning. I make the hard choices, the real sacrifices. I do the work and I save this place. Then you appear out of nowhere after years of being away, and you waltz back in here like you never left, and I hear your father is talking about leaving ownership of the ranch to you in his will. Imagine how I feel about you coming back when I’ve been here this whole time bleeding for this place. When I’m the one that kept it from going under.”
My jaw works as Daisy circles me to the left and back around to the right again. “I didn’t ask for any of that,” I say, staring into her eyes as she paces. “I don’t want Leader. I told Dad that already. If you think you’re entitled to this place then you can have it.”
“Good,” Daisy says, stopping. “Pack your shit and leave.”
My eyebrows raise. “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll bring your car around myself.”
“But I can’t. Not yet anyway.” I step toward her. Only a couple feet separate us now. It’s like the world is narrowed down into this moment, down into this tiny space, and all I care about is Daisy, the way she’s looking at me, the memories she drags up in me. Loathing swells, but also confusion, and curiosity, and I falter, thinking maybe she’s right if her story’s true, maybe I really am wrong to be here.
But none of that matters. She can think whatever she wants to think—I’m here for one reason and only one reason, and that’s to collect the money Dad promised to War for making me stay here. I want to cash my check, save Bomber, prove to myself that I can handle my own life, and move the hell on.
“There’s the problem,” Daisy says. “You pretend like you don’t want the ranch, but you’re still here. You could pack and go whenever, return to your other life, go back to whatever you were doing before you decided to come blow up everything we’re worked for. Instead, you’re lingering with that weird boyfriend of yours, and I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”