CHAPTER 22
“What is it going to take for you to take me seriously? Settling down with a wife of your choosing?” Adrenaline surged through Axel as he paced in front of his father. Why did Eddie have to be so damned stubborn? Eddie refused to acknowledge that the ranch was sliding nearer and nearer to the redline. Instead, he clung to an outdated idea of success.
“Settling down would be a start. It’s time for you and Gunn both to demonstrate your commitment to growing our legacy.”
Axel fisted a hand at his side. “And what are you going to do if I don’t? Shun me the way you did Uncle Monty?
Eddie’s face grew red. “Don’t push me, son. You don’t know nothin’ about Monty. I don’t take kindly to people threatening me. Not then, and not now.”
Axel’s neck grew hot. He wanted to punch something. Someone.
How had his father grown so harsh? Had he been too blind to see it? Or too cowardly to address it? The realization that he’d been complicit in this ongoing conflict with his father made him slightly nauseous. He was as much responsible for this impasse as his father was. He could have left at any time. Taken the Monty treatment. But he hadn’t been brave enough.
Axel’s jaw ached from the clenching. “This conversation is over… for now,” he gritted out, shaking his hand loose.
He spun on his heel and stalked out of the barn, slamming his shoulder into the heavy door, and sliding it shut with all the force he could muster. Let Pops stew in the dark. Maybe it was because of Coop, maybe not, but with each passing day, Axel grew more certain that the ranch was on the wrong path, and that he could so something to help it. The world was changing. Had already changed radically. And if they were going to keep up, keep the land in the family and a life they loved, they were going to have to change too.
And if Pops wouldn’t change…
But Axel hated the thought of leaving here. This was his home. He paused at the top of the hill where the trucks were parked to look out over the stables. The trees stretched out toward the river, and in the distance, he could see a few of Sinclaires’ bison munching on the prairie grass. These hills grounded him, connected him to himself. And at night, when he gazed up at the black sky, millions of stars shining down on him, he knew his place in the universe.
If only he could talk to someone about this. Not someone… Coop. But what would she say? She didn’t have the sense of obligation to place or family that he had. Not her fault – she’d grown up with a different set of experiences. It amazed him how she always landed on her feet, no matter what. Like a barn cat. She was scrappy and tough. Hell, maybe he needed to be more like that.
“Did you run into that brick wall that’s yer pa’s head?”
Great. Warren.
The last thing Axel needed right now was a ‘chat’ with Uncle Warren, but he wasn’t going to be a dick to his uncle just because he was pissed at his dad. “That obvious, huh?”
“He stickin’ his head in the sand again?” Warren tossed a crate and a few burlap bags into the back of his beat-up old pickup truck.
Axel laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”
“Lemme tell you sumpin’ ’bout yer pa.” Warren fixed his brilliant blue eyes on Axel. “He hates change.” He chuckled, more to himself than to Axel. “Hell, he’s still wearin’ the same crew cut mama gave him in the sixties.”
“What’s your point?”
“You ever learn why yer pa runs the ranch and not me or Monty?”
Axel bit back an angry retort. Warren’s love of story telling was never convenient. How many times had Warren pinned him or Gunnar down for a rambling story that rarely seemed to have a point? Maybe he could hurry the story along. “Let me guess. Does this have to do with Uncle Monty dying?”
Warren shrugged, a sly smile curving the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know that you can say that definitively. I was never interested in running the ranch. I was happier working with the horses, like Hope.”
Warren paused and dug his phone out of his pocket. Axel had to hand it to Warren. Warren might be a crusty old cuss, but he’d changed after his near death experience a year ago. Even more, with the birth of his grandson. Axel secretly loved it when he ran into Warren carrying little Henry in a front loading baby carrier Maddie had bought him. Warren was tickled to be a grandpa.
Longing curled through Axel’s gut. Would his father react in the same way? He couldn’t imagine Eddie wearing a baby. But then again, six months ago he couldn’t have imagined Warren wearing a baby either.
“Here, you see this?” Warren shoved the phone at him, looking pleased as punch.
Axel took the phone, and pressed play on the video Warren had pulled up. Henry’s face was big on the screen, giggling and gurgling happily at Warren singing Old MacDonald and making barnyard noises. Axel grinned in spite of himself, shaking his head. “Maddie see this?”
Warren’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yep. Sent it over yesterday. I told her as soon as he can walk, we’ll buy a miniature pony. Just like the one we had when Maddie was small.”
Axel’s throat grew tight at the thought. Would he ever have a child to teach how to ride? They all joked they’d learned to ride before they could walk. And dammit if Warren wasn’t doing more to perpetuate the family legacy than he was. That stung.
Warren stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “Now Monty… Monty was a lot like you. Always tryin’ new stuff to see what stuck. Drove Eddie nuts. But Monty was the oldest, so what he said, went.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s how we’ve always done it. To keep the peace. Someone had to be the decision maker. We all share the land, but the oldest calls the shots. That’s the way it’s always been.”
“Well what if it shouldn’t have been that way?”
Warren’s eyes grew bright. “Now yer followin’. Sometimes that means the person who should be in charge, isn’t. See, son, yer like yer pa too. Always chafin’ at the bit… you hate bein’ told what to do. Have yer own ideas.” Warren leaned back against the truck. “So things came to blows between my brothers. Eddie yellin’ at Monty he was sick of bein’ bossed by someone who didn’t even live on the ranch anymore. Not to mention Eddie hated Monty’s ideas. Called them harebrained and crazy.”
“Okay… and your point is?”
Warren chuckled drily. “Hold onto yer britches. I’m gettin’ there. Eddie threatened to go to yer grandpa Ollie and ask for the spread to be parceled into thirds.”
What?
Surprise coursed through Axel. His father had very nearly been responsible for breaking up the land? Holy smokes.
Warren continued. “Only Monty had already convinced Ollie to get on board with his latest money making scheme.”
“Was it?”
“A scheme?” Warren’s face clouded briefly, and he shrugged. “Some see it that way. I still maintain Monty was tryin’ to do right by us.”
“Well what was it?”
“Raising rodeo bulls.”
If Warren had said titty bars, Axel wouldn’t have been more surprised. Rodeo bulls? They had the land for it, certainly. But Axel had always thought you needed to be a special kind of crazy to get involved with any aspect of bull riding. Those animals were raised to be ornery. And their whole operation, in contrast, was so gentle. Axel’s mind raced, trying to put the puzzle pieces together with what Warren wasn’t saying. “So does this have something to do with how Uncle Monty died?” He’d been twelve when Monty had died in some kind of an accident. Ironically, his cousin, Cody, who’d been six at the time, now rode bulls for a living.
Warren gave him a sad smile. “You catch on quick, son. Turns out yer pa was right and Monty was wrong.” Warren sighed heavily, a far away look in his eyes. “And it cost him his life.”
Why wouldn’t anyone be direct where Monty was concerned? Nobody liked it on the rare occasions he’d been brave enough to bring up Monty in conversation. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“Monty was a stubborn cuss. Hansen trait.” Warren cleared his throat and stared right through Axel, reliving whatever had happened twenty years ago. “He got too close to a bull,” Warren mumbled, voice thickening with emotion. “The whole thing…” Warren shuddered. “Well, you can imagine how it went.”
Axel held his breath. He’d never heard anyone speak of the day Monty died. But given what Warren had just disclosed, he guessed it wasn’t pretty. “Was it…” he searched for a tactful word but came up short.
“I’ll never forget it,” Warren’s eyes glittered with grief. “And I don’t go a day without missing Monty. He was a good cuss. And while he may have been wrong about rodeo bulls, he was right about plenty more.” Warren took a breath and looked like he wanted to say more, but then he shook his head as his shoulders sagged.
Axel scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I still don’t understand what this has to do–”
“With yer dad chewin’ you a new asshole?” Warren harrumphed. “Put two and two together, son. He’s afraid to lose you. Monty died in his arms. He vowed to make sure no one else got hurt. Offered to let Peggy and the kids move back and use the other bunkhouse, but Peggy was done with us after that.” Warren’s face looked bleak. “Can’t say I blame her.”
He should say something. But Axel was too stunned by Warren’s story to do anything except stare at Warren’s old, scuffed boots.
“Look at me, son.”
Axel raised his eyes to meet Warren’s. “Do you understand yet?” he asked fiercely. “Eddie’s afraid he can’t protect you if you move away. Hope’s incident only reinforces that. He feels somethin’ terrible that he wasn’t there to help her. He don’t realize he’s killin’ you by keepin’ you here under his thumb.” Warren wrinkled his face like he was searching for something more to say. “I know you think I’m ramblin’, and maybe I am. But I see how you moon after your lady.”
Axel covered a tiny smile. Moon? So did everyone have an opinion about him and Coop?
Warren pinned him with a serious look. “Most of us don’t get a second chance at love. I never did. It would be a damn shame if you followed in my footsteps.” Warren pushed off the side of the truck, and shuffled to the door, hopping in the truck and settling himself behind the wheel.
The truck sputtered to life, and Warren rolled down the window, leaning an elbow out. “Never be afraid to be your own man, son. There’s no dignity in bein’ someone else’s man.” He pulled forward and barreled down the drive.
Axel stayed watching the truck until it disappeared from sight, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in its wake.