modest. A bunch of tract houses that all look the same. But it’s safe and close enough for me to visit when I need to.”
They hit a rut in the road, and the truck creaked on its springs.
“How is the old man doing?” Hugh asked.
Caleb shrugged, and that was enough of an answer. Some days with his dad’s worsening dementia were good, some weren’t so much. Mostly they weren’t, though, and Caleb had endured a lot of those days this past month or so, as he’d finalized the purchase of a new home for Aunt Rosemary and his dad and moved them from her former house near Dallas.
He could just see his aunt now, as they set up his dad’s room with his sleep apnea equipment and the walker he refused to use as much as he should.
“We’re so grateful for everything you’re doing, Caleb.” Rosemary had seemed so tiny, sitting on the bed in a pair of sweats, her hair gray and thinner than it had ever been. But she had smiled as she talked, her cheeks soft and rosy, as she’d glanced around her new home.
Ten years older than Dad, Rosemary had always been a maternal figure for him since they’d lost their parents early on, sticking with each other through thick and thin. She’d insisted on taking care of him now, too, especially since Dad’s dander rose whenever Caleb was around.
Yup, Caleb knew that Aunt Rosemary was grateful. Not so much Dad, though.
“It’s the least I can do,” he’d said to her.
They hadn’t talked about how he and his dad hadn’t ever been good buddies or how he had always refused any of Caleb’s help, even back when he’d been in his right mind. An only child, Caleb had been too much of a “party boy,” in Dad’s estimation; although, as Caleb had matured, he’d always lived up to every vow he’d made and every responsibility he’d had. But that had happened only after Mom had died, shortly after Caleb had graduated from the local high school and he’d left home, finding work at the Flying B, where he’d pretty much been raised the rest of the way to adulthood by Tex Byrd and the ranch hands.
It seemed as if Hugh had sensed the direction of Caleb’s thoughts.
“You know you’ve got family here, Caleb. You always have and you always will. You were like Tex’s own son.”
Tex. Even the sound of his name made Caleb’s chest hurt.
“Hey,” Hugh said. “I know what you’re thinkin’, and it isn’t right.”
“What?”
“That you weren’t around when Tex passed on. It wasn’t your fault that he lied to you about just how sick the doc said he was when he told you to go on and see to your own dad’s needs. He would’ve been fit to be tied if you’d stayed with him and refused to see to your father.”
That much was true. Tex had been adamant about Caleb making up with Dad, no doubt because the family rift with the Byrds had gone on for so long and Tex regretted that he’d missed out on being a part of his own children’s—and grandchildren’s—lives.
The last thing Caleb had wanted was for Tex to be disappointed in him, so he’d gone. But he hadn’t made it back to the Flying B in time—he’d only been here for the funeral, staying in the background before seeing to the last of Dad and Aunt Rosemary’s new home—and that dogged him.
Grieving for Tex alone. Wishing he could’ve done something to keep him around for much, much longer.
Even with the note Tex had left him, telling him how proud he was of Caleb and how he hadn’t wanted Caleb to see him wasting away in his final days, there was still that raw sense of loss and failure.
Hugh gave him another sidelong look, and Caleb decided to move on.
“The Flying B’s a different place without him, isn’t it?”
“It’s a kind of different that Tex would’ve approved of. When he gave the girls the east side of the property, with the ranch and its buildings, and the Byrd boys the land that wasn’t being used, he stipulated that they use their inheritance money to develop both sides after he passed away.”
“I like what they’re doing.”
“I hear you like even more than that.”
Caleb grinned. “It’s no secret I get along with women.”
Hugh’s chuckle was a rasp. “The snooty Byrd isn’t the one I would’ve chosen for you.”
“Donna Byrd isn’t snooty. She’s just a fish out of water.”
“And you’ll reel her in. Is that right?”
“Why not? It’s about time I settled down.”
He’d come to that conclusion after seeing Donna for the first time. It’d been an instant, overwhelming attraction, even if it would be a challenge to hook her.
Hugh shook his head, and it rankled Caleb. Maybe the older ranch hand thought Donna was out of Caleb’s league, or that a ladies’ man like him would never settle down for anyone, even a Byrd. Or maybe Hugh was even thinking that Donna might be way too much trouble for him in the long run and he shouldn’t pin his hopes on anything with her.
But Caleb couldn’t blame his friend for any of that. No one, not even Hugh, knew how much of a father figure Tex had become to Caleb after he’d taken him in—even more than his own dad. Tex had sorely missed his own sons, and somehow, Caleb had filled a void, sitting down with him on the main house’s old creaky porch swing after a long day, smoking cigars, talking for hours and drinking the good bourbon and wine Tex used to collect. The old man had never told Caleb the details about what had torn apart his relationship with his sons Sam and William—and what had made them dislike each other so intensely that it’d caused a tear that made their relationship ragged even today. But Caleb had heard rumors around the ranch, anyway, about how Savannah Jeffries had been dating one twin, William, during college. She’d come home with him one summer, after he’d suffered a broken leg in a car accident, and during his convalescence, she’d supposedly fallen for Sam, Donna’s father.
Nope, no one knew just how much Tex had meant to Caleb.
Hugh sighed gruffly as he pulled the truck off the road, toward the fences that required their labors.
He turned off the engine. “Maybe you think that there’s some kind of love bug going around since the Byrd kids have come back, Caleb, but from what I hear, Donna’s probably immune to it. She’s a cool one.”
“I’ve melted my share,” Caleb said.
“So you have.” Hugh grabbed Caleb’s shirtsleeve before he could open the door. “Just keep in mind that she’s got a lot going on.”
Although the older man didn’t explain further, Caleb knew that Hugh only meant to protect him, and he gave the man a gentle, fond shove.
“Don’t worry about me, boss.” He exited the truck, his boots hitting the dirt.
He was as grounded as ever, with his feet back on familiar territory.
And
