“It’s on the house,” Tyler told him, and reached for a glass.
* * *
TWO WEEKS LATER, Tyler was questioning his decision. He put his truck in Park in front of the ranch house, but just sat, too tired to move. He and Miles had been up all night with a cow who’d calved early. Really early. The poor calf hadn’t made it, and even though Tyler knew that this kind of stuff happened on a ranch, it still felt emotional. Like maybe they should have done more, or realized sooner that the birth was going badly.
The rest of the day hadn’t gone much better. A cold front had come in, colder than a normal December, and they’d decided to move the cattle into the long barns for the night. It was freezing work, rounding them up, and he’d fallen, somehow fallen, off his horse.
Miles had laughed long and hard about that. Would probably be telling that story for years to come. How his bull-riding champ of a brother couldn’t sit a quarter horse in a routine cattle roundup.
Tyler rubbed his tired eyes with the sleeve of his heavy parka. Then reached into the chest pocket and pulled out the thing that was probably unsettling him the most. The postcard that had arrived a couple days ago. It was the first one Kit had addressed directly to him. The photo was of a colorful restaurant—the Southern Cross—in Belize. She’d written that she worked there, that she was sorry she hadn’t written, that she figured they’d both needed some space. It wasn’t much, nothing romantic. But she’d reached out to him and that was something.
He wondered why she’d written now. He suspected she was letting him know that she was settling down somewhere far away, to make sure he knew she wasn’t coming back.
The light was fading from the day, afternoon turning to evening so fast in these winter months. Just like this postcard was sucking any last hope out of his heart. She had a job. She’d be living in Belize.
A horn sounded, startling him. He turned and was surprised to see Parker and his dad pull up. They were due home tomorrow. His dad had needed a double bypass and insisted that Miles and Tyler stay home to run the ranch while he had the surgery. This would be the first time he’d seen his dad since he’d moved here to help Miles.
Parker climbed out of the driver’s side and Tyler went to meet him. And got the breath knocked out of him by Parker’s strong hug. The guy must be desperate for the company of his brothers, or of anyone remotely sane, after two weeks of trying to look out for their mulish dad.
Tyler grabbed the suitcases from the back of the truck while Parker went to help their father. His efforts were rewarded by a “Back off, I’m fine.” Yep, that was Dad. Maybe they should have asked the cardiac surgeon to inject a little patience and compassion into Dad’s heart while he was under.
“Tyler.” His dad leaned on a cane and Tyler was struck by this proof that his dad was getting older. A lot older. They were lucky Dr. Miller had caught the heart problem before his dad had a heart attack all alone in some remote corner of the ranch.
“Dad, great to see you,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get in out of the cold.”
Inside, his dad sat heavily in his favorite armchair by the fire. Miles came in to say hello, then returned to the kitchen to finish making dinner. He was the best cook among them by far. Parker, looking beat, disappeared somewhere. Probably to go see his horses. That’s usually where he went when he was frustrated, and spending two weeks in a hospital with their dad would have tested a saint.
Tyler took the suitcases into his father’s room. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked when he came down.
“Nah.” His father stared at the flames crackling in the fireplace. “Sit down, son.”
Tyler sat warily in the opposite chair.
“Tell me how things have been around here while I was gone.”
Tyler told him about how they were dealing with the sudden cold weather, about the calf, about the hay delivery he’d refused because he could smell the mold in the bales.
As he talked he realized that it had been a great two weeks, being on the ranch, working so closely with the cattle. Working alongside his brother.
And the surprising thing was the Dusty Saddle did fine without him. Tim and Lila had everything in control. They checked in with him about big decisions, but every time he’d stopped by, the place was immaculate, the customers were having a great time and everything was running smoothly. It was strange to realize that he and Kit had created something so organized and well-thought-out that it barely needed them anymore.
When Tyler ran out of things to say, there was a short silence. He went through what he’d said, wondering which part his dad was upset about. Because he always said the wrong thing when it came to his dad. Always.
His father cleared his throat and Tyler braced himself for the criticism. Instead he got gratitude. “I appreciate you pitching in around here. I know you have your own business to run.”
“I’m glad I could help out.”
“While I was in the hospital, Parker showed me a bunch of videos. Of you riding bulls and winning all those titles. Of your world-championship ride.”
“You watched them?” His brain could barely take it in. “You never watched me ride. Not once.”
His father’s expression was almost sheepish. “I couldn’t stand to. It was a lot easier to watch it now when I know the outcome.”
The meaning in the words trickled through Tyler’s confusion. Gelled until he understood. “You never watched me because you were worried?”
“You’re my son. And I didn’t want to witness you getting killed or destroyed by one of those bulls.”
“I had no idea.” Tyler slumped in his chair. Years of perceived rejection and misunderstanding evaporated, leaving him crumpled. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were pissed because I wasn’t ranching. Or that you just didn’t like me.”
His dad straightened in his chair at that. Then clutched his chest.
Tyler was by his side in an instant. “Are you okay?”
Looking pale, his father leaned back in the chair. “I’m fine. Just too much too quickly.”
“We can talk about this another time,” Tyler said. “Why don’t you let me take you upstairs and get some rest?”
His dad gave a wheezy chuckle. “If there is one thing I learned the past couple weeks, it’s that there might not be another time. So let’s finish the conversation.”
Reluctantly, Tyler sat.
“Of course I like you, son. But I’ll admit, I never understood you very well. Maybe because your mom passed when you were young, so I wasn’t paying close enough attention to getting to know you. Maybe because we’re different. I was always real studious in school. I toed the line, you know? Did what I was told. I’m not what you’d call a risk taker.”
It was strange to hear his father’s perceptions of himself. Tyler had always thought of him as strict. Unwavering. Could some of those behaviors come from fear? Aversion to risk. It explained a lot.
“Then I got a kid like you. And you were climbing the tallest trees and riding the biggest horses before you even went to kindergarten. You hated school and you loved adventure. And maybe I should have tried to do a better job understanding you, instead of just trying to keep you safe all the time. Because what you taught me when you joined the army, then took up bull riding, was that there was no way I was ever going to keep you safe. No matter what I tried.”
His dad’s eyes glistened in the firelight. Tyler was sure of it. His rigid, unemotional dad was almost crying. It was disorienting, as if everything in life was out of order. “But I was safe.”
“I know that now. But I didn’t know it then and I felt guilty. Like a failure. When your mom was dying, she made me promise I’d look after all three of you boys. That I’d guide you into being solid, stable men. It was easy with your brothers. They were so much like me. But you... I couldn’t figure out how to
get you there.”
His brothers were solid and stable. He was the problem child. He’d known it forever, but it still hurt to hear it said so bluntly aloud. “So that’s how you see me? As a failure?” The defensive note in his voice betrayed him.
“I saw myself as a failure because I couldn’t get you to choose a career, and a lifestyle, that would keep you safe. I’d broken the promise I made to your mom.”
Tyler sat, elbows on knees, staring at the fire. His dad had just been worried this whole time? Blaming himself?
“I watched those videos of you and I was so damn proud. You earned the title of champion, son. No one else rode the way you did.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Tyler said weakly, wondering if maybe the surgeon had done something a little different to his father’s heart after all. Or maybe swapped it with someone else’s.
His dad paused for a long moment. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I was so scared I’d lose you that I pushed you away, and I lost you anyway.”
“You didn’t lose me.” Tyler swallowed the emotion. “I’m still here.” They sat in silence, then Tyler asked what was still on his mind. “And me owning the bar? Why is that so hard for you?”
His dad sighed. “I guess I wanted you to come home. To lean on me, just a little, for once. But I know I lost my right to have that a long time ago. And now here I am, all sewn back together, leaning on you to keep the ranch up.”
“You’ll be back on your horse in no time,” Tyler assured him. “The doctors all said so.”
“I sure hope so.”
Tyler wondered if he should try one more time to get him to go to bed. But then his dad started to speak. “But I’ll tell you, I was glad that Kit talked me into going to the bar that night. You took that old bar and turned it into something special. And I realized that you’ve grown yourself into that solid, stable guy your mama wished for. You just did it in your own way.”
The praise meant everything coming from his dad. Through the emotion, Tyler registered what his dad had said about Kit. “She talked you into coming that night? I thought maybe she had, but she wouldn’t say.”
His dad smiled slightly. Which for him was a lot. “She didn’t let on, huh? I can see that. She’s got fire, that woman. She came out here and laid it all out for me, clear as day.” His voice went creaky. “She loves you, son.”
“Well, I love her, too. But she’s gone now. She’s in Belize.”
His dad regarded him silently for a moment. “Huh,” he said. And that was it.
“What?”
“I’m just wondering why you’re sitting here. If you love her, you should go after her. The same as you’d do with anything else you want in life.”
“She was pretty clear that she doesn’t want me going after her.”
“Well, all I can say is that she sure as hell went to bat for you. So maybe you should do the same for her. Why do you think she came out here that night? Because she enjoys my company? I’m not exactly her favorite person after the way I treated her dad.”
“Garth works for me now, by the way. He’s doing a fine job.”
His dad ran his palm over his face. “I messed that one up real bad, too. I was taught to play by the rules. To stick to ’em like they were gospel. I should have bent them for Garth. He deserved that from me.”
“I got him covered. His finances are just fine now.”
His dad shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess. If I write a check, will you take it to him?”
“I think it would mean a hell of a lot more to him if it came straight from you. It wasn’t just the money, Dad. Your ranch was his life’s work. The way you let him go, it knocked his pride right out of him. It’s taken him a while to get it back. I think you should take that check to him personally. With an apology.”
“I’m not very good at all this heart-to-heart stuff.”
Tyler walked over and put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Seems to me like you’re doing it just fine. Now, come on. You need to get to bed. One of us will bring your dinner up.” He helped his dad out of the chair, startled when his father pulled him in for a quick hug and a clap on the back.
“You’re a good man, Tyler. I’m proud to be your dad.”
It was hard to get the words out, but no way was he going to bawl like a baby. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate that.”
“Just don’t go riding too many more of those bulls.”
“I was thinking of breeding some. I was hoping to get your advice on it.”
He watched his dad’s eyes light up at the thought. He rested his arm across Tyler’s shoulders as they made their way slowly upstairs. “Now that’s something I can help you with. You get me the bloodlines you’re thinking of. Let me check them out. You don’t want to buy from any rancher who’s gone in for too much of that inbreeding.”
“I’d appreciate your help,” Tyler said, trying to take in this moment, so perfect, such a relief, that it almost felt surreal. “I really would.”
His dad kicked him out at the bedroom door and Tyler headed down the stairs, trying to absorb their conversation. Trying to let the information settle in. All his life he’d believed his dad thought he was nothing but trouble. But it hadn’t been quite that simple. Mostly, his dad had been scared. Scared he’d lose another person he loved.
Tyler went to where his coat hung on a hook. He pulled Kit’s postcard out of the pocket. The white sand, the palm trees, were so exotic they looked unreal. He’d never been anywhere like that. But it seemed like a pretty good time to give it a try. Especially because the woman he loved was working there. And if his dad was right, there was a chance she might love him enough to let him back in her life.
She might tell him no, she might send him back home, but he had to try again. He’d missed out on decades with his dad due to misunderstandings and fear. He wouldn’t let those same problems ruin what he might possibly have with Kit.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KIT SWIPED AT the bar with a clean rag. The sun had gone down, the dinner guests had cleared out and the late-night crowd at the Southern Cross was growing. This was her favorite time of night. When the locals showed up. She loved the cheerful crowds, the stories they told of growing up on the island. Tonight some of Rogelio’s friends had brought their instruments and were playing the traditional punta music of Belize. Its African-sounding rhythms had her swaying behind the bar.
She’d never lived anywhere like San Pedro. The camaraderie reminded her of working at the Dusty Saddle. Locals looked out for each other. They danced and sang together. And thanks to Rogelio’s and Angel’s friendship, they were welcoming her and making her feel a part of their community.
A young American couple who’d had lunch here today threaded their way through the dancing crowd to the bar.
“Hey!” Kit shouted over the music. “You made it back!”
“You were right!” the girl shouted back. “This is amazing. What great music!”
“Isn’t it incredible?” Kit often tried to get tourists to come by for the late-night music. She was no expert on Belize culture, but to her nothing seemed more essential to what she knew of this island than these impromptu parties at Rogelio’s bar.
Kit made them their drinks, glancing nervously at the growing crowd waiting for her help. Usually Rogelio helped her bartend at these parties, but she hadn’t seen him in several hours.
A movement at the end of the bar caught her eye. A man stood there, quite still. He was tall and broad, and wearing a cowboy hat. “You need a little help back there?” he called, and his voice went straight to her heart.
“Tyler?” She slid the drinks across the bar and ran to him on instinct. But stopped before she reached him, remembering their fight, the harsh words. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping you, I think.
You’re swamped. Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
“I can’t afford to pay you,” she told him, her heart taking happy leaps in her chest. “But I could use the help. Work for tips?”
“Deal.” He grinned and stepped behind the bar. “Who’s thirsty?” he yelled to the crowd, and picked up a pint glass, flipping and catching it in his best Tom-Cruise-in-Cocktail style.
Kit laughed and took her next order, snapping the tops off of a few bottles of the local Belikin beer. Tyler caught her eye and flashed her that wide smile she’d first fallen for.
“Why are you in Belize?” she asked when they stood near each other for a moment.
“To see you. Nice place you’ve got.”
“Well, it’s not mine. But thanks.” Her words were stilted but there was no way to be fluent when her mind was busy trying to comprehend that he was here. “Is everything okay at home? What about the Dusty Saddle?”
“Everything is good. Your dad is happy running the barn, and Tim and Lila are managing the bar now. Hey, these folks want rum punch. How do I make it?”
“It’s the local specialty. Watch and learn, grasshopper.”
He laughed. “Just like old times.”
She showed him the measurements of white and coconut rum and added orange juice, pineapple juice, a spritz of lime and a dollop of grenadine. She decorated the glasses with a tropical garnish and put them on a tray. “There’s your rum punch,” she said, sliding the tray to him. “You should try one later on. They’re delicious.”
“Maybe, but it looks pink. And fruity.”
“You’re in the Caribbean now,” she reminded him. “And you’re sort of an expert at pink drinks back home, if I remember right.”
He grinned. “I might have to take this recipe back to the Dusty Saddle and start a new trend. I could use a break from making cosmopolitans.” He took an order for beer and reached in the big cooler below the bar for bottles. “Maybe we could name it after you. Kit’s Island Elixir.”
She laughed. No matter how they’d left things between them, it was so good to joke with him again. “My own memorial cocktail. I’m honored.”
His Last Rodeo Page 24