as glad to get over needing them.
Don just stared at the phone in his hand.
“Are you gonna call him back?” Shel asked.
“I’m thinking about it,” Don said. He gazed at the phone like it was a coiled rattler about to strike.
“If Daddy called, it must have been important,” Shel said.
“It could have been a mistake.”
Shel snorted. “Wimp.”
“Nope. Just thinking things through. The one thing that keeps coming back to mind is that Daddy has never- and I do mean never — called me on my cell phone.”
“All the more reason to call him.”
“He might have accidentally hit the buttons.”
“And dialed your cell phone number?”
Don grimaced. “Does sound pretty weak when you say it like that.”
“It is weak,” Shel said. “Give me the phone and I’ll call him.”
Don started to hand the phone over, then pulled it back. He eyed Shel suspiciously. “If I give you the phone and you chicken out, Daddy’s going to see my number on his caller ID.”
“I didn’t know Daddy even had caller ID,” Shel said. His daddy was notorious for being against technological advancement, though he’d gotten satellite television once it became available.
“He’s got it,” Don said. “You can call him from the hospital.”
“If I call him from the hospital, they’ll mask the numbers. When he sees a number he doesn’t recognize, he’ll probably ignore it.”
“Don’t you have a cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you use it?”
Shel tried to be very patient. He also tried not to think about his daddy having a heart attack and calling for help.
“Because Daddy won’t recognize that number either. Give it up, Don. Your phone is the only one we can use.”
Reluctantly Don handed his phone over. “Have you ever thought about how ridiculous it is that two grown men have trouble calling their daddy?”
“Not really,” Shel replied.
“Well, maybe you should,” Don said.
Shel found the number and hit Send. His breathing grew shorter and tighter, and he felt like he was going into combat. He hated the fact that the machinery connected to him revealed that rising stress level to Don.
Tyrel answered on the second ring.
“Don,” Tyrel growled.
“It’s not Don, Daddy,” Shel said. “It’s me.”
“Where’s Don?”
“Went to the bathroom. He left his phone on the nightstand. He’ll be back directly.” Shel was conscious of how his accent had crept into his words. “I figured I’d call you back and see if something was wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Shel listened to the slur in his father’s voice. Tyrel drank every now and again, but he never let it get ahead of him. In all his years growing up on the Rafter M, Shel had never seen his daddy drunk. He suspected he was listening to that now.
“I called to talk to you,” Tyrel said.
“Yes, sir,” Shel said.
“I didn’t come up there because I figured you were too mean to kill. You got too much of your old man in you for that.”
Shel honestly didn’t know whether to feel proud or angry about that comparison. Other people had always compared him to his daddy, but he’d never done it himself.
It was something he would never do.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Are you doing all right?” Tyrel asked.
“I am.”
“Nurses taking good care of you?”
“Yes, sir.” Shel felt uncomfortable talking to his daddy like this. Tyrel wasn’t one for talking about things. It’s the alcohol, Shel couldn’t help thinking. He braced himself as best he could because he knew the call could be as unpredictable as a roller coaster ride.
“I wouldn’t… want nothing to happen to you, boy.” Tyrel’s voice cracked at the end.
Before he knew it, and without even understanding why, Shel had a lump in his throat. It wasn’t just his father’s admission that he cared about him, which wasn’t something Tyrel McHenry had ever owned up to; it was the fact that his daddy was anywhere near to losing control.
The only time Shel had ever seen his daddy hurting had been at his mama’s funeral. Even when Shel’s mama had died in the hospital and they’d all been sitting in that hospital room listening to her gasp for her last feeble breaths, Tyrel McHenry had never shown weakness.
When she’d gone on, when the heart monitor had flatlined and the constant chirp filled the room, they’d watched as the nurses had disconnected everything. Then Tyrel had stood in those straight-legged jeans he always wore, taken his cowboy hat off, and walked over to his dead wife. He looked at her for a time, then bent down and kissed her gently on the forehead.
“Sleep easy, ol’ gal. I got my hand on the wheel. I’ll get your young’uns raised up right,” he’d whispered.
Then he clamped his cowboy hat on and turned to Don and Shel with his face like stone.
“You boys tell your mama good-bye. I’ll be outside waiting when you’re ready.” And he’d walked out.
That day, Shel had hated his father. It had been everything Don could do to keep him from forcing a confrontation right there in the hospital parking lot.
Then, days later at the funeral, Tyrel had stood at the back of the family area in the funeral home and listened to the preacher’s words. Tears streaming down his own face, Shel had turned to watch his daddy. Only one time, and only briefly, Tyrel had sipped at a breath and hiccuped. His face had knotted up in agony. Then he’d forced it back to that harsh mask he’d always worn.
That was what Shel heard now, and it left him shattered and scared in ways he’d never felt even when he’d been under fire on the battlefield.
“I’m fine, Daddy.” Shel was surprised by how tight his voice was. “I’m just fine.”
“Well, you stay that way, boy. I won’t put up with anything less.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The reason I was calling is this.”
Shel waited.
“That boy you shot-”
Shel wanted to point out that Bobby Lee had been a full-grown man, but he didn’t.
“-had a daddy,” Tyrel continued.
Through the haze that swirled inside his head and muddied his thoughts, Shel tried to get a sense of what his father was trying to tell him. He felt like he was going to have to defend himself for shooting Bobby Lee.
Instead, Tyrel said, “I knew that boy’s daddy. He’s a vicious man, Shelton. He’s one of the devil’s own. You’re going to need to watch your six for a while. And if there’s a way you can punch Victor Gant’s ticket for him, you might just be better off for the doing of it.”
Shel barely breathed. He couldn’t believe what his daddy was telling him.
“You hear me, boy?” Tyrel growled.
“Yes, Daddy,” Shel whispered.
“You watch yourself for the next little while. And you take care of Don, too. He ain’t like you and me. He looks more for the gentle side of things. He ain’t gonna know how to look for somebody like Victor Gant. You hear me?”
