Tulip’s saddle with a loud smack, causing the horse to prance to the side. Mattie shoved the mare back into position.
“If you ask me, football ruined him.” John’s displeasure carried through his gruff tone. “Those college coaches with their fancy scholarships got their hands on him, and he got too big for his britches. Didn’t give ranch life a second glance after that. Just off and left for bigger things.”
Mattie had seen in her own family how pride and fortune could bring a person down and guessed that’s what had happened to Gil. “Speaking of Gil — ”
“One of these days, some cowboy’s gonna sweep you away from here too, Mattie. I feel it in my bones. My luck, I’ll already be in my grave and will miss hearing your sweet voice say I do.”
Mattie laughed. “I swear you’re worse than my daddy.”
“Don’t think marriage won’t happen. You’re a dandy girl. Don’t settle for second best.”
“I’m content to live the life God’s given me right here in Charris County. Especially if I can wake up to these hills every morning.”
John chuckled, then his expression turned sober. “These hills won’t keep you warm at night. I know that for a fact.”
Mattie’s cheeks flushed at his remark. She heaved the sturdy saddle off the mare’s back and eased it onto a stand, glad for the excuse to exert a bit of energy. Fearing the subject might change again, she forged ahead with her news. “You’ll never guess who I saw coming down out of the sky, right there in your pasture.”
John’s eyes gleamed. “Superman?”
She took Tulip’s lead rope and headed to the stall to feed the horse a little grain. “No, it was Gil. He’s walking up to the house right now. Should be here any minute.”
John’s face paled. He looked at her as though she’d hit her head on a rock in the pasture and given herself a concussion. “What are you talking about? Gil’s in Wisconsin.”
A hulking shadow appeared in the passageway of the barn. “No, Dad, actually, I’m not.”
FIVE
GIL SET HIS DUFFEL ON THE GROUND. “A FRIEND OF MINE GAVE ME A lift in his plane.” Gil jammed his hands in his jean pockets, feeling strangely awkward being back home. He studied the man he hadn’t seen for so long, surprised by how much he’d aged. What was his father now, seventy-two?
Not wanting to stare, Gil turned to the red-haired woman lingering in the horse stall. Pretty and strong-willed, as already evidenced by her dramatic welcome in the pasture, why would she befriend an old man like John McCray? At least, he hoped they were merely friends. His mother had been gone for a couple of years and no doubt his father suffered bouts of loneliness. It wouldn’t be the first time an old-timer hooked up with a girl less than half his age. The idea sickened him.
“I probably should have called, but with the game and all . . .”
“No need to explain.” With the help of a cane, his father moved closer, then stopped.
At this range, Gil saw the deep lines etched in the weathered face. Again, he looked away, this time at his brown leather loafers — not the worn cowboy boots he used to wear as a teen. Another reminder of how much things had changed.
“I’m surprised you came, considering how busy you are.”
Gil lifted his gaze to stare into eyes that mirrored his own. “I would’ve come sooner if I could have.”
His father scowled. “I’ve heard that before.”
The comment hit Gil harder than any linebacker ever had. “You know I had no choice then. I did everything I could to get home before she died.”
“Whatever you say.” His father waved his hand in a disgusted manner as Miss Evans eased her way from the shadows. “I guess you’ve met Mattie.”
“She’s a better watchdog than Hank.” Gil kicked his heel against the dirt floor and watched as the woman neared. “So, Miss Evans says she’s your friend?” He tried to keep the revulsion in the pit of his stomach from coloring his tone.
“Miss Evans is the vet I told you about. The one caring for your horse.” The answer came out clipped, a biting punishment for thinking the worst of his old man.
Gil’s jaw dropped from embarrassment and surprise, and he fumbled for his next words more than he’d ever fumbled a football. “I’m sorry . . . Dr. Evans . . . I didn’t realize.”
Mattie’s face lit with amusement. “That’s quite all right. It’s