lap without so much as a shrug . . . or a fight? Don’t you know how much this land means — to the both of you?”
Gil shook his head. “It means something to you, Mattie . . . not to me.” His voice came to her, soft and persuasive.
John let out a disgusted sigh. “I’ve heard all I care to. Don’t need to listen to anymore,” he said and ambled from the room.
When he was out of earshot, Mattie turned on Gil like a pit bull. “How can you say that?”
Gil closed the distance between them and lifted her chin, made her look into his eyes. What she saw there contradicted everything that came from his mouth — pain, regret, and a longing for peace. He’d never find that peace by running away from the source of his sorrow.
“I have good memories here, but there are also some really bad ones I’d like to forget. Dad’s going to do what he wants with this place. What good will it do to argue about who gets it? My life’s in California.”
Mattie wrenched her chin from his grasp and stared at the red tiled floor. “But you’ll stay until the ranch is repaired? You’ll do that for your dad?”
“I won’t leave until the work is complete and Dusty’s recovered. How about you? Will you help me purchase some mares?”
She stared down at her boots. “I guess I could make arrangements.”
“The other day after we caught the bull, you called me a coward. Do you still think that of me?”
Mattie considered their conversation from that day when she’d accused Gil of running away from the ranch and his responsibilities. “That depends on how you handle this mess with your father.”
In one smooth motion, Gil seized her hands. “I’m no coward, Mattie. One day you’ll see that.”
TWENTY-NINE
THE NEXT FEW DAYS, MATTIE SORTED THROUGH THE BOXES IN HER office. Still amazed by Gil’s generosity, she took inventory of every item, determined to settle with him cent-for-cent. By Friday, the room began to look like a veterinary office, complete with a sectioned-off examining space where she could perform minor operations.
Mattie sat at the new computer, forced to load client records from a local phone book. Her puppy lay at her feet as she typed in the missing information. She paused to sip her coffee and heard Gil hammering. All week he’d been repairing broken windows and shingles on his father’s house, hard-pressed to beat the ice storm forecasted to hit their area on Sunday. Although snow lingered on the ground, the temperature had risen above freezing, which at least made his job easier.
John McCray knocked on the clinic door and entered the room. “Mildred wanted me to check on you. See if you needed anything.”
Mattie shook her head, appreciating the gesture. She held up her cup of coffee and smiled. “I’m drinking my morning dose of caffeine now. Tell Mildred I’m good, unless she wants to trade places. I’ll gladly cook lunch, if she’ll perform a miracle on my accounts.”
“Mildred hates computers ’bout as much as I do. She did learn to work that email, though, so she could write to her daughter.”
“In Texas, right?”
“She and her family moved to Houston a few years ago. Breaks Mildred’s heart not being around her grandkids anymore.”
Mattie hoped this wouldn’t trigger another tirade about him not having grandchildren. From what she could tell, John and Gil were being civil to one another since their argument, and she prayed it would stay that way. She took another sip, and the robust liquid seared her throat. Her sister, Jenna, lived in Houston, but they didn’t talk often, by phone or email. “I ought to keep in touch with my family more than I do. A person gets busy, you know?”
“Everybody’s busy.” He jerked his thumb toward the house. “Boy’s up there making so much ruckus, I can’t even sleep. Bam, bam, bam. Runs that hammer like a machine.”
Mattie smiled. “Gil’s excited about the renovations — you should be too. Your house is getting a face-lift.”
“I guess I don’t mind so much what he’s doing — just have to wonder about his motivation.” John tapped his hand on his knee to play with the pup, and the beagle, eager for attention, licked his fingers. “Can’t understand why Gil came back. He’s made it clear he has no desire to stay — no interest in the place. Don’t make no sense to me.”
“Maybe he’s trying to compensate for the time he’s been