Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders 15)

“I sort of went overboard. Get tired of cooking for one so be warned. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Always.”

“So the last time I talked to you, you were getting ready to lead your last hunting party of the season. How’d that go?”

“Great. Hunters are always happy when they get an elk. All three guys did. They were lucky they got to see the rugged beauty of Montana and not the rugged weather.”

His mother poured him a cup of coffee and sat across from him. “I promise I will get up there sometime.” She shot him a look. “Unless you’re moving back to Sundance permanently?”

He hedged. “So you didn’t let Brandt and Tell know we’d kept in contact the last three years?”

“No. If they suspected I knew where you were they never pushed me to tell them.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I appreciate that you did keep in touch with me, Dalton. You’re a grown man, but I still worry. I’m thrilled you got out of Wyoming and saw the world. Even if you’re still trying to find your place in it.”

“You ever encourage Luke or Brandt or Tell to take off?”

She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Luke? No. Brandt? No. Wait, I take that back. Maybe after Luke started stepping out on Jessie. Brandt wanted to be anywhere besides on the ranch where he had to watch his brother act like a fool and destroy the woman Brandt loved. But Brandt was loyal to both of them even when it ripped him apart. And Tell? If you remember, I did push him to go out on the road rodeoin’ that one summer. But he had it in his head he’d never be good enough to make a living on the rodeo circuit, so he came back home.”

“Casper tellin’ him he sucked all the time might’ve played a part in that,” Dalton said dryly.

“Not that I disagree, but bein’ the cousin of Chase McKay had a lot more to do with it.”

Dalton cut a dumpling in half and popped it in his mouth. The taste took him back to his teen years. Mealtimes were some of his favorite memories growing up. His brothers laughing and teasing each other. Casper had behaved for the most part, rarely picking fights with his sons at the dinner table, lest his wife stop cooking. She’d insisted they’d enjoy at least one civilized meal each day.

“Dalton, sweetheart, are you okay?”

He glanced up at her and smiled. “Yeah. Just thinkin’. This food takes me back. To, you know, growing up.” He paused. “It wasn’t all bad, was it?”

“No son, it wasn’t. When you boys were little, for a few years, it was decent. I’d hoped Casper…” She shook her head. “Like so many things with him, it didn’t stick.”

“Why did you stick around?” Dalton couldn’t think of any woman who’d put up with what Joan McKay had.

“Because I thought I loved him. I wanted to believe that Casper was capable of being a good father. I thought if I didn’t micromanage every second he spent with you boys, he’d grow into his role in your lives.” She reached for his hand. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, besides burying Luke, letting you boys work with him every day.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Look how that turned out with you. I had no idea what he was doing and you paid the price for my trust and hope. I’ve gone over this dozens of times with my counselor—”

“You’re still seeing a counselor?”

“I stopped for a while. Then Tell and I had that big blowup and I realized not all the changes I’d made in my life since the divorce were good. I’m more…settled when I have an unbiased person to unload on.” She squeezed his hand. “Which still makes me wonder if you resent me.”

Dalton wasn’t sure how to answer. Wasn’t sure if he should answer.

His mother retreated. “You know what? Scratch that question.”

“No. It’s okay. There’s no way you could’ve protected us from him twenty-four/seven—especially not in the family ranch environment. Luke told me he’d figured out when he was fourteen that if he didn’t learn how to do everything on the ranch and teach us how to do it, there wouldn’t be anything for us to inherit. He also explained that Casper failing on his section of land didn’t reflect poorly on him, but all the McKays. That’s what Casper wanted—to be a burden to his brothers so they couldn’t ignore him.

“He’s that guy, Mom. An expert at verbal abuse and manipulation. Takin’ out his bitterness on everyone around him. He showed us that ugly side and it wasn’t like you were safe from his mean mouth. I’d resent you if you’d hid in the house so we bore the brunt of whatever f**king anger was eating him, rather than you. But you’ve never been that type of mother.”

“I appreciate you understanding that.” She sniffled. “I did leave Casper once.”

A sick feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. “When?”

“Tell was just out of diapers. I don’t remember what Casper had done, wasn’t anything like he did in later years, but I’d had enough. I left for five days, maybe a week.” A faraway look entered her eyes. Then she caught herself. “Didn’t mean to ruin your appetite with this conversation. Eat up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” But he couldn’t. He wanted to know where she’d gone and what she’d done when she’d walked out. Who she was with. But the words stuck in his throat.

“So Casper is in a rehab unit?”

Dalton nodded. He’d wondered if she’d ask. “He can’t speak and refuses to work with the speech therapist. Which is why I don’t understand…never mind. My opinion won’t matter.”

“It does matter. Tell me.”

“Why are Brandt and Tell wasting time with him when it’s obvious he don’t want them there? They got pissed off at me today, like I was some callous—hell, they even called me selfish—asshole for not wantin’ to sit in his room for hours on end watching him glare at the TV.”

“They’re there out of guilt.”

“But why? It ain’t like he’s gonna have a change of heart and become a completely different person.”

“It’s been known to happen with strokes. There’s part of your brothers that have always held hope for reconciliation.”

Dalton raised his eyebrows. “Meaning that Casper will wake up one day and have such remorse that he’ll try to make things right with his sons?”