Macy’s lips formed a tight pout. “It’s heartbreaking to hear you say that. Your father needs your help.”
“You want me to
His brain wouldn’t go there. Not after what his father had put him through. Not after he’d sent his mother to an early grave and almost killed Rocky in that fire. Fathers were supposed to raise their children, not the other way around. “He doesn’t deserve it, Macy.”
Macy set her coffee cup down on a post, making sure it didn’t teeter, before she turned to him, her voice firm. “Everyone deserves another chance.”
“He’s used up his quota of chances.” Carter gulped coffee too fast. It burned his throat on the way down. “Damn it.”
“Carter,” Macy pressed, “you can’t just give up on him.”
“I can. I have.” He didn’t want to have this conversation right now. “But you should know, it’s not for lack of trying. I’ve spent years trying to clean that man up. It’s impossible.”
Macy looked toward the corral. She pretended to watch the horses, but he could see her mind was a million miles away. Then softly, as if she were speaking on a breeze, she said, “Maybe if someone took my father by the scruff of his collar and shook some sense into him, he’d be alive today.”
Carter glanced at her profile, the stubborn slant of her delicate chin. Macy still ached from her father’s death. Maybe she was feeling guilty for not intervening with him. Or maybe she’d just wanted to make a point. But her situation was different. She’d been a young girl when her father died. Carter had put up with his father’s antics for his entire life. People got hurt and lives were damaged.
“You don’t know the facts, Macy. And I’m not about to spill my guts to ease your guilt. Just drop it.”
She whipped around to face him, a spark of defiance in her eyes. “I’m not trying to ease my guilt. I have no guilt. Just regret. And you’re being bullheaded!”
Carter kept his gaze trained on her. He wasn’t going to let her get involved in this. His patience was shot to hell. He raised his voice. “I’m telling you how it’s going to be. It’s none of your business.”
“So, you’re saying butt out?”
“Bingo, you win the prize.” He winced at his harsh tone, but he wouldn’t back down.
She stared at him for the longest time, then grabbed the mug from his hand, lifted hers from the post and then twirled around. Marching toward the house, she held her head high and mighty as if she was right and he was the fool who couldn’t see it.
Damn it. They’d just had their first argument, and it was about his
It sure wasn’t the way Carter wanted to start the morning.
Bill Fargo was a wise old goat, clean-cut and stately and just the type of man Carter would have liked to have for a father. It still plagued him why the man wanted to work at Wild River Ranch for a modest wage, when it was obvious he could be holding down a more lucrative job. But Carter wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever the reasons, he was glad to have Bill.
“I came in early to explain what happened last night,” Fargo said after Carter let him into his office.
“We spoke on the phone last night. That’s enough for me.” Carter leaned against the edge of his desk, offering Fargo a seat, but the old guy decided to stand.
Fargo rubbed the back of his neck. “I appreciate that, but I take pride in my work and I’d feel better you hearing it from me in person.”
“Okay.” It was a fair plea.
Fargo’s brows gathered as he recalled the incident. “I’d just checked on Macy about ten minutes before it started storming. I had driven clear across the other end of the property when the rain came down hard. Soon as it hit, I turned the truck around to get her and bring her back to the main house.”
“Did you see the intruder trying to break in?”
“No. When I got there, I noticed the broken window first, and that’s when you drove up. I think we spotted him at the same time. He took off running into the brush. You told me to go after him while you checked on Macy. I lost sight of him in the darkness, and by the time I got to the truck he was gone. I searched for an hour but couldn’t find him. I’d first thought it might be a youngster thinking the place was abandoned, wanting to get in out of the rain. But what I saw changed my mind. It wasn’t a boy but a man, and he wasn’t so much fast as he was cagey. He could have been close to my age. You said you thought you knew who it was.”
Carter tensed. Every time he thought about his old man, his nerves jangled. He’d never make Father of the Year, but was staying on the right side of the law too much to ask? “Yeah, unfortunately I do. It was my father, Riley McCay. It’s an old song I won’t sing again, but he won’t be bothering Macy or coming onto the property again. I paid him a little visit today. Not that his word is any good, but my old man has managed to stay out of jail all these years. He knows that’ll change if he’s spotted on my property again. Next time, he’ll be hauled in by the law.”
Confronting his father hadn’t been pleasant, but it had been necessary. Carter cursed himself silly for feeling sorry for the guy after he’d left his father’s place.
Fargo’s eyes narrowed and his face slanted in a thoughtful expression. “You’ve had a tough childhood.”
The spot-on assessment surprised him. “You think I’m bitter?”
Fargo shook his head and spoke with sincerity. “Not at all. The truth is the truth, and it’s not always pretty. I’ve had my share of bad experiences, so let me say this, no one should judge you or what you do, because they don’t know what you’ve gone through in your life. And I bet you’ve been the adult in that relationship since you were a boy.”
Carter stared at Fargo and then smiled. Yep, he
Fargo laid sympathetic eyes on him. “You got strong pretty fast, I’d say.”
Carter sighed and leaned back, painfully admitting, “Not fast enough.”
Fargo acknowledged him with an understanding nod.
“Macy thinks I’m too hard on him,” Carter confessed. It felt pretty darn good releasing his frustration and the emotions he’d bottled up inside. Just being able to say these things aloud gave him some measure of relief. He felt he could trust Fargo with his thoughts. Man, was he looking for a father figure or what?
“And Macy’s opinion is important to you?”
Carter had to think about that a second. He wasn’t sure what Fargo was getting at, but he knew that after making love with her, the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. He still felt it wasn’t any of her business, yet it was hard for him to admit that he should have held his tongue. After all, she’d given him the best night of sex he’d had in a long while. Then he’d turned on her. He felt like a heel. “She’s told you about her father, right? He died as a result of his drinking.”
“And you think she’s transferring that situation onto yours?”
Carter lifted away from the desk and shrugged, his impatience getting the best of him. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Seems to me that you might want to straighten things out with her.”
Carter’s stubborn nature wouldn’t have allowed that before this conversation, but Fargo made him realize that he owed Macy an apology. Her opinion did matter. He cared what she thought about him.
An hour later, Carter strode out of his office with a plan. The air was warm, the sun still bright as he walked with purpose to the inn on foot, trying to clear his head of Jocelyn’s duplicity, his father’s latest antics and his feelings for Macy.
Halfway there, Rocky joined him, coming from the direction of the inn, his tail wagging and his body twisting in jubilation. “Hey, boy.” Carter bent to give him a pat on the head. The dog lifted up, pawing at his thighs, begging for more attention. “I hear you there. Is Macy giving you the cold shoulder, too? Nah, she wouldn’t do that to you. I’m the only dog she’s mad at.”
