Cowboy Take Me Away (Rough Riders 16)

Since Cord had married AJ a dozen years ago, Ky had called AJ Mom, a fact his biological mother Marla wasn’t happy about. But since the boy visited Marla in Seattle maybe once every two years, and AJ was in Kyler’s life every day, Carson didn’t see the issue. “What’s goin’ on with her?”

“She wants me to apply to Washington State.”

“Huh. I didn’t realize that team was on your radar.”

“It’s not. But as soon as Marla found out about the other teams throwing out offers, she contacted the athletic director and sent in an audition tape.”

“Without asking you?”

Kyler nodded. “Kinda slimy, I know. She did it because she means well, but all Dad sees is manipulation.”

“Is WSU sending a scout?”

“I guess.”

“You interested in goin’ there?”

“I don’t know. I want to base my decision on which football team has the best shot at playing in a national championship the years I’m on the team. Dad says there’s more to the decision than that.” The soda can dented after Kyler squeezed it with obvious frustration.

“He tellin’ you where you should go?”

“He says it’s a no brainer; I should pick UWYO.”

“What’s his reasoning on that choice?”

Kyler looked him in the eye. “Sentimentality.”

Whoa. Such an astute kid for seventeen. “You wanna explain that?”

“Because he could come to the games and because I wouldn’t be far from home. But he also knows if I choose a bottom tier division one school then my chance of playing pro ball after college is practically none.” He tacked on, “Not that I think I’m good enough to go that route now. But if I don’t choose the best possible program, then I won’t grow as an athlete.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “And the other thing? I don’t want to get a degree in Ag management.”

“That’s what he’s suggesting you do?”

“Yeah. But sure enough if I earn that degree and come back here and try to ranch with him, he’ll get pissy and remind me he’s been a rancher for far longer than I have and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way he does things and most things about ranching can’t be learned in books anyway.”

Dammit, Cord, didn’t you learn anything from me? Pushing that boy in one direction—your direction—is gonna push him away from you.

“Sounds like him.” Carson sighed. “Hell. That sounds like me.” He shot Kyler a look. “That’s why you want to know what happened. So it doesn’t happen between you and your Dad.”

“I also wanna know if it’s some freakin’ pattern with McKays that I’m destined to repeat regardless of what I do.”

“You askin’ if I had the same issue with my old man?”

He nodded.

“Yep.”

He groaned.

“It’s just one of them things. Different personalities and differing philosophies creates friction. Can’t tell you how many times when I was in my early twenties that I told my old man to f**k off and I’d never run the ranch the way he did.” Carson’s eyes narrowed. “You tell your Gran-gran I swore in front of you and I’ll deny it.”

Kyler snorted. “I’m pretty sure after being married for almost fifty years Gran-gran knows exactly how much you swear, Grandpa.”

“She still gives me hell about it.” More than anything in the world he wanted that woman to wake up and snap, “Carson McKay! Language!” at him.

“What did your dad say when you told him you didn’t wanna be a rancher like him?” Kyler asked.

“Told me to pull my head outta my ass and get my work done because he knew I was bluffing. Sounds like sappy bullshit from an old man, but the truth is ranching is in my blood, although some years I’da happily traded in the hard work and low pay for a steady job workin’ in the auto department at Sears.” He sipped his soda. “Does Cord know you wanna do something else with your life?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I do. Maybe four years away from here and my family will make me miss it.”

Cord lasted almost three years in Seattle before he returned to Wyoming—not that Carson planned to mention it. “You have options. No one’s gonna fault you for lookin’ into them.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.” Kyler stood. “It’s about time for your hourly visit with Gran-gran so I’ll let you be.” He jammed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Will you, ah, tell her I miss her and I can’t wait until she’s better?”

Carson didn’t trust himself to speak so he just nodded.

“Later, Gramps.”

He cleared his throat. “I thought you wanted to hear about the big fallin’ out between me’n your dad?”

“I do. But I’ll ask him.” He offered a sly grin. “Maybe it’ll help him remember what it was like to be the one wanting to get away.”

“Good plan. But remind him I told you that the way I handled it was wrong. All wrong. Maybe that’ll prompt him to do things the right way.”

After his grandson left, Carson pushed out of the chair, grimacing at the pain in his lower back. Getting old sucked. But at least his hip wasn’t bothering him.

He stared out the window without really seeing anything, his thoughts focused on the fight he’d had with his oldest son right before he left Wyoming…

“No.”

“Jesus, Dad, will you just listen to me?”

Carson reined his horse around. “So you can tell me that I’m an idiot? That you know so much more about what we oughta be doin’ in this section?”

“It’s not like I’m demanding we switch to raising all Angus or something. All’s I’m sayin’ is we oughta look at planting a different kind of grass mix here. We ain’t had the yield we ought to in the last two years since we bought this acreage and you damn well know it.”

He did, but how was he supposed to admit he’d been wrong?

Encouraged by his silence, Cord railed on. “And while we’re talkin’ about it, I don’t think because that’s the way we’ve always done it is the only damn answer you ever give me. But every time I’ve tried to talk to you, you shut me down.”

“Then you’d think you’d learn to keep your opinions to yourself.”