I saw you here.” Gil scratched his chin, knowing better than to argue with the man. He studied his dad from across the seat and noticed the pallor of his skin, probably from jostling around in the truck. “You feelin’ all right?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been burning pastures longer than you’ve been alive.” His words came out choppy.
Trusting his instincts, Gil pressed on the horn to draw Mattie’s attention and motioned her to follow him deeper into the pasture, away from the burning flames.
“What are you doing?” His father frowned.
“Getting you out of here. Then I’m going to help Jake manage this fire.”
Mattie hopped out of the Dodge and stuck her head in the passenger side window. “Everything okay?”
Neither answered.
Gil peered into her eyes, and she seemed to read his unspoken words. “Come on, John, how about I take you to the house? You can help me unload our suitcases.” She opened the door and held out her hand.
He swiped it away. “After all I’ve done for you, I never expected you to turn on me. Must be the company you’re keeping.”
Mattie flinched as though slapped.
“There’s no reason to take your irritation out on her.” Gil grabbed his dad’s shirtsleeve. “Mattie hasn’t done anything to hurt you. If you want to be mad at somebody, be mad at me.” He could handle it, unlike Mattie, who seemed shaken by the hard words.
In a huff, his dad slid out of the truck. “Tell Jake to come see me when it’s done. Don’t want him thinking I skipped out on him.”
The worn look on the man’s face belied his gruff demeanor. In that moment, Gil realized his dad’s desire to feel needed was what spurred him to lash out. Was that what it was like when a man had nothing to live for? He’d experienced a portion of that when he retired, knowing he’d never play football again, but this seemed nine times greater. “Jake will understand. I’ll tell him Mattie needed you at the house.”
His dad glanced back with scorn. “Don’t you dare lie to him. If you’re going to tell him something, tell him I ain’t man enough to take care of this land anymore.”
Gil’s throat tightened, and he turned his attention to the burning prairie, to something he understood from boyhood and could handle. As he went to meet Jake, the crackling flames licked up the dry, dead grass, and he compared the charcoaled ground to his father’s life.
Spring rains would charge the roots to grow and burst forth in tender new sprouts so green they would brighten the earth with energy, but what did his dad have to look forward to?
A dead wife, a dead son, and another who antagonized him. Poor health and a ranch that had outgrown his capabilities.
For the first time in his life, Gil felt sorry for the man who’d raised him. A man who once held the admiration and respect of all who knew him, now reduced to a mere shadow of his former self.
His dad wasn’t invincible.
Gil ducked his head as this knowledge hit him square in the gut. It didn’t matter if he and his dad never made up, or if his dad made Gil’s life miserable from now until the end. One thing did matter, however, and it had nothing to do with Gil’s past or his own selfish motives. It had to do with things eternal. He had to forgive his father for his shortcomings, and he needed to share what gave his life purpose.
He’d spoken of his faith to Mattie, his teammates, even complete strangers in hospital beds, but not once had he shared it with his father, too afraid of his condemnation.
Now he knew that had to change.
MATTIE PARKED IN FRONT OF THE MCCRAY HOME TO LET JOHN OUT. The man barely said two words since leaving the pasture, and she was concerned about his pale lips and rapid breath.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m parched,” she said. “Let’s go inside and get us a drink of ice water.”
Mattie went around to his side of the truck to help him down. As she reached for John’s hand, he clutched his chest, his face twisted in agony, beads of sweat on his brow.
She measured the pulse on his wrist and noted the erratic rhythm. “John, are you okay? Is it your heart?”
“Need my pills,” he panted. “In room.”
Nitroglycerine. Mattie feared what might happen if she left his side. He stared at her, his eyes huge against