Decker opened his door the rest of the way and came around to my side of the truck. When he opened my door and gave me his hand to help me out, I grasped it. “Don’t let go of me,” I pleaded.
“Never.”
By the time we entered the near-empty diner, my father was walking toward us. I stopped, leaving enough room between us that he couldn’t reach out and touch me.
“Hello, Mila,” he said as if he’d seen me yesterday. “And, Decker.”
As much as I wanted to look at Decker to gauge his expression, I couldn’t take my eyes off Judd; if I did, he might step closer, which I couldn’t allow.
“Why don’t we take a seat?” he said, motioning to the booth where he’d been seated.
“I’d prefer a table.”
With his hand still holding mine tightly, Decker led us farther into the restaurant. He pulled out a chair for me that faced the door. He took the seat beside me, forcing my father to choose from two that would mean his back was to the entrance.
“You did some damage to one of my vehicles,” he said, looking directly at Decker.
“I don’t like tails.”
“Neither do I.”
I studied the exchange between the two men. Decker appeared on high alert, not at all friendly with Judd, which had been my initial concern.
The only read I could get on my father was that he seemed to know he wasn’t in control of the situation. It would be interesting to watch him attempt to wrangle it, like he did everything else. My money was on Decker, though.
“I was saddened to hear of your sister’s death, Mila.”
I opened my mouth to respond and then closed it. Saddened? Interesting word choice. I would think that a parent who lost a child would be devastated, inconsolable. Sad was something an acquaintance might feel, not a father.
“Who told you?”
“The sheriff.”
“I’ll make arrangements to have her buried in Bluebell Creek next to Mom.” Why had I told him that? Did he really care what happened to Sybil’s remains? He hadn’t even spoken her name.
“Can I get y’all anything?” asked a waitress as she approached our table. “Oh, y’all didn’t even get menus. I’ll be right back.”
I let go of Decker’s hand and pushed back my chair. “That won’t be necessary. We’re leaving.”
Decker stood and put his hand on the small of my back as we exited the diner. When he held the door open for me, I froze. Three men were getting out of an SUV parked next to Deck’s truck.
“They’re with us,” he whispered into my ear, but then continued walking toward the truck as though he didn’t know them.
We were on the highway before Decker spoke. “I won’t feel comfortable until I get you back to the ranch, even with an escort.”
I nodded when he looked over at me.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
“Do you mean Judd?”
Decker shrugged. “He’s the elephant in the backseat.”
I smiled. “You have a knack for putting me at ease, Decker Ashford.”
He reached over and squeezed my leg right above my knee.
“I don’t have a relationship with my father. I haven’t for a very long time.” Had I ever, if I really thought about it?