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)
He shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Nobody else wanted to do it.”
I’m so frustrated I could scream. “That’s not good enough. Why weren’t you the one making all the hard choices, Uncle Lovett? I always thought Daddy looked at you as his second-in-command, but now here you are working alone out in the garage, doing a little girl’s bidding. What happened to you?”
Anger flashes into Uncle Lovett’s face, and I know I went too far with that, but his comments about Rosie and what happened to me and all his questions, it’s driving me insane because I know he’s full of shit. Uncle Lovett never once questioned whether I was telling the truth—he’s only using that like a cudgel now, trying to hurt me, trying to make me weak so I won’t press him. I believed Kerry when she apologized, but no part of me believes this.
“Nothing happened to me,” he says. “You wouldn’t know how things went down because you weren’t here, were you? You ran off to Dallas and put the family behind you, all because we wouldn’t believe your sad little story.” He makes a face, a terrible sneer. “Poor little abused Melody. You couldn’t keep your fat mouth shut, could you?”
“It wasn’t my fault,” I say, shaking with rage. “I told Renee in confidence. I didn’t mean for anyone else to find out. I was only venting.”
“Good, blame Renee, that’s easy, isn’t it? Convenient that you’re the real victim in all this. Why’d you come back, Melody? Was it really just to say goodbye to your daddy? Because if so, go back in that house and sit with him while you can, and get the hell out of here in the morning. We’re doing fine without you.”
“I don’t think you are,” I say, and my voice is an anger-fueled whisper. “I think the ranch is falling apart. I think you’re standing back and letting it happen because you’re old and tired and you can’t handle this place anymore.”
“And you’re some little lying bitch that doesn’t know when enough is enough,” he snaps, voice rising, and War steps forward, his hands curled into fists. Uncle Lovett laughs at him, his voice throaty and harsh. “What are you gonna do, boy? Beat up an old man?”
“I’ve done worse,” War says.
“Stop it,” I say, and War hesitates, glancing back at me. “Enough. That’s enough.”
War grunts in acknowledgment and steps aside, but I still feel his animosity, his rage, like a tiger prowling behind bars.
I stare at Uncle Lovett and try to order my thoughts, but the way he’s whiplashing around between hating me for what I said about Rosie and wondering if maybe I was telling the truth—it’s messing with my head. Even after all these years, even now that I see this man for who he is, some little pathetic part of me wants to make my uncle proud like I did back when I was a girl.
I need to take that part, carry her out to the river and drown her.
“Something is rotten here,” I say and keep my voice as steady as I can. “This used to be my home and I hate what happened to it since I left.”
“But there’s the problem, isn’t it? You left and you have no claim to the ranch anymore. Go back to Dallas, Melody. Go back and live your life and forget about this place. Your daddy’s not going to be around forever, and neither will the rest of us. Let Daisy and the cousins run the ranch the way they see fit. This isn’t your home anymore.”
Not my home. I stare at my hands. Not my home. He’s right and that’s the hardest part. The ranch hasn’t been my home for a long time, and even though it feels so familiar, there’s also so much that has changed. I don’t fit in here anymore, and I keenly miss Ford and Kat and Bomber and everyone else. I miss my life.
But this place, it’s too important and it’s too good, and it could be something better if it weren’t being mismanaged by a bunch of selfish assholes.
“When you’re ready to tell me what’s going on here, I want to talk,” I say and turn my back on Uncle Lovett. I put the unopened beer down on the work bench. “You know where to find me.”
“Hiding at the top of your momma’s tower like you always used to,” Uncle Lovett says as I walk away. “You don’t change, Melody, and that’s the problem.”
Once outside, War puts an arm over my shoulders. “Hey. You okay?”
I shrug away from him and keep walking. Past the driveway, the cars, the main house. Past the tower and toward the paddock. I reach the fence and stare at the moon and the stars. It’s past twilight and into the early night hours when the fireflies are active, their lights twinkling through the field, tiny lanterns dancing in the black. War stands next to me and we watch them buzz and flutter, and I even reach out and manage to catch one. It’s glowing tail brightens my fingers and fades, brightens my fingers and fades, pulsing like a slow heartbeat.