sideways glance. “Turn that camera off.”
My guard went up. “Why?”
“Because I’m talking to you, not our class.”
I lowered the camera and set it in the bag.
“Here’s the deal. You think that an animal is just like you. That it’s cold when you are, hungry when you are, sick the way you are. It’s not the same. Like pigs in farrowing crates. You know they can roll over and kill their piglets? Or that some pigs even eat their babies? It keeps them safe. Lets us raise more for the resources we do use instead of wasting it all. There’s more to it, but you have to know, animals being treated well is in everyone’s best interest. A sick animal, a scared animal, is an animal that can’t gain weight. We make our money on them having as good of a life as possible, and I’m damn proud of that.”
His words hit me hard, because I could see how much he cared, but I could also see the house of cards my life was built upon. What if my parents had been wrong? What if the way we made our money was only hurting people like Ray and his family? They worked hard—I could see that up close and personal. I may not have known much, but I knew they believed they were doing the right thing. They didn’t deserve our judgement or condemnation.
His voice was gruff as he said, “Go ahead, argue with me.”
I slowly shook my head. “I don’t have anything.”
“No more questions?” His lips quirked slightly. “I know you must have one.”
I did. But was I brave enough to ask it? I decided I was. I had to be. “Why have you been so mean to me instead of just telling me this?”
Ray let out a heavy breath and put the pickup in drive.
“No answer?” I accused, barely keeping the bitterness from my voice.
“Give me a second, okay?” he said harshly. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter than I’d see him do all day.
I stayed quiet, my hands in my lap, but inside, my mind was screaming questions. Why was he so upset? What was the truth behind his behaviors? Because the guy I’d seen today wasn’t the same one who was mean for no reason. He loved his dad, cared for his siblings and mom, was gentle with cattle, and worked hard even though he attended one of the most academically challenging schools in the state.
It wasn’t adding up.
He got out of the pickup, opened the gate to the corrals, drove in, and then shut the gate. I wanted to tell him I could handle getting the gates, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood to ask for help—or accept it.
He drove slowly, and the cattle parted around him, some even reaching for the bale with their long tongues. I retrieved my camera and got some shots of them eating, stretching for straws of hay.
He stopped somewhere in the middle and lowered the bale, then got out and cut the twine that held it together. Fearlessly, he walked past the large animals and got into the pickup.
Now I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for his answer. Would he tell me the truth, or was he just stalling long enough so he could dump me by my car and send me on my way?
Outside of the corral, he put the vehicle in park and turned to me. “I love ranching, wouldn’t trade it for anything. My dad dedicated his entire life to raising food for other people.” He gazed over the pasture, toward his house, and clenched his hand on the steering wheel. “I’ll be damned if I stand around while anyone suggests he died in vain or that we should be ashamed of the work he did.”
He hung his head and breathed deeply, like this was the most exhausting thing he’d done all day, and that was saying something since we’d ridden horses for what felt like forever and my legs were already growing sore.
My heart went out to him. Although Ray presented as strong and capable, he was still a son without a father. Despite how my parents’ overprotectiveness irked me, I couldn’t imagine life without them. I reached over and put my hand on his where it rested on the bottom curve of the steering wheel. “You should be proud of the work you do.”
Under thick lashes, his blue eyes met mine and made my breath hitch in my throat. “Do