to argue. Would it really hurt to let my friends know how I lived? If my trailer and RV combo scared them off, then they weren’t good enough to be in my inner circle. I was desperate for friends, but I wasn’t desperate to get treated like crap. I’d had enough of that.
Dumping the helmet back on the bench, I walked out of the shed.
My friends couldn’t listen to my sob story if I burned down my shed trying to weld. I was too tired and hungry and distracted to keep going.
I could only take care of two of those three obstacles. I could eat. I could nap if I needed to. But I was afraid that I’d never get Dawson off my mind.
Dawson
Dad hadn’t gone back to work by the time Grams was discharged. It was only the two of us at the house. Aiden had driven Grams to Billings. Xander had taken Beck to the airport in Billings the day after Grams had gone home. Between my brothers, they’d checked on her. I had stayed away.
I entered the house after it was dark enough to hurt myself if I kept working. Dad had quit before sunset, which wasn’t early this time of year, but I couldn’t go back to my place and think about how I’d love to wind down with Bristol in my arms, watching a show.
It couldn’t be over between us. It’d been so abrupt.
Toeing my boots off, I hooked my hat in its usual place. Dad was in the kitchen. Savory smells filled the house.
“You cooked?”
“I still have some skills.” He shoved a plateful of crispy hash browns and sausage toward me.
I sat on a stool and dug in. My stomach thanked me for the food but my heart hurt too badly to feel the hunger. “I thought you were supposed to be eating better.”
Dad hardly talked about his heart attack, but his meals had more fruits and vegetables than they had when growing up. And I was diligent about offering him heart-healthy items when he was home.
He went to the fridge and withdrew a bowl. He slid it across the counter. Salad greens tossed with tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, and avocado. “I am eating better. But a guy can still have sausage and hash browns,” he grumbled.
I smirked but dug in. Telling a rancher he had to cut back on red meat and potatoes wasn’t always successful. But Dad and Kendall had done their research. They wanted to be together for a long time.
My smile died. That was my dream too, but I’d messed it up and Bristol didn’t want to talk to me. I shoveled food into my mouth out of habit.
When I was done, I shoved the plate and salad bowl away. “I’m going to Billings tomorrow. I’m switching banks.”
Dad leaned on the island, his gaze unwavering. “Your grams called today.”
“Worried she missed too much business while she was in the hospital?”
“That too.” Dad didn’t sugarcoat it. Grams would always have her priorities and her family wasn’t always at the top. “But she wanted to know how you were doing.”
“Did you tell her I was shitty?”
“No, I said that you’d have to be the one to talk to her, if you wanted to. I also told her that none of us condoned what she’d done.”
Dad didn’t stand up to Grams too often, but when he did, he made it count. “I want to be so angry at her. And I am. But . . . I can’t help feeling like it would’ve turned out the same because I waited too long to do what I had to do. Except for Bristol getting blamed for Mama’s death.”
“Bristol was a kid. Your mom was worried about her when the rest of us should’ve been too. Hell, I can kick myself until the end of days, wondering what I could’ve done for each of them that night, and I will. But that won’t do Bristol any good today.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to me. We could discuss it, work through it, but she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Doesn’t mean you need to give up.”
I glowered at Dad. “I’m not a teen that needs advice.”
“No, you’re a grown man who might be smart enough to think your old dad still has something worth saying.” The look he gave me made me feel like a teen getting a lecture at the dinner table all over again. I slumped onto my elbows, ready to listen. “Think about