With a sigh, she leaned away. “Maybe you did. After all, I’m giving you advice.”
With a shrug, he admitted, “I have no advice, not about fathers and their kids.” Closing the top of the carton, he taped it then started filling another.
Finally she said, “I’ve learned something over the years, Zack. I do have to accept reality. Wishing my dad would change only brought me heartache, so I accept him for who he is and don’t expect anything. That way I don’t get hurt.”
Her acceptance of her own father’s shortcomings made him feel like a jerk. He shouldn’t have complained about the childhood he’d had when Jenny’s had been so much worse. Losing her mom as a kid couldn’t have been easy. Staying with a neighbor who really wasn’t interested in babysitting while her father was gone had to have made Jenny feel unwanted.
She proved that as she told him, “After Mom died and I had to stay with Mildred when Dad left for the circuit, I disappeared into the library downtown and learned everything I could about horses … to fill up my life and I guess my heart, too. I didn’t have the guts to come to a place like the Rocky D to learn what I needed to know to become a horse trainer, but I went to smaller ranches, asked if I could help with chores and got paid enough to buy clothes for school. I didn’t care about the money as much as I just wanted to be around the animals, to know more about them. Some of those horses were my best friends until I went to high school and really got to know Mikala and Celeste. Up until then I shied away from the other girls because I felt they made fun of me … and looked down on me. Celeste and I had a lot in common because we were both girls from the wrong side of the tracks. I’m not sure how Mikala hooked up with us, maybe because her mother wasn’t around much when she was growing up. But they became my safety net—they were always there for me. How did you and Dawson and Clay become friends?”
“The reverse of you and Celeste and Mikala, I guess. Our families went back to the founding fathers of Miners Bluff. In one way or another, we were all rebelling against authority, against our fathers, our families. Don’t get me wrong, we didn’t talk about it. Guys didn’t do that.” He shot her a wry grin. “But we knew we all wanted to be independent and forge our own course, no matter what anybody else thought.”
“Rebels with a cause?” she joked.
“Minus the motorcycles. Clay and I used horses. Dawson had a Mustang.”
She laughed at the pun.
Whenever he and Jenny found a nonvolatile subject, he enjoyed the ease of talking to her, just as he had when he was a teenager.
In high school, they’d all hung out at Mikala’s aunt’s bed and breakfast where her refrigerator and pantry was overstocked with everyone’s favorite drinks and snacks. As he and Jenny started spending more time alone after she moved in at the Rocky D, long talks about anything and everything had taken place in the barn and hayloft. Long talks … and plenty of kisses….
But they weren’t kids anymore and the shadow of him leaving and her refusal to go with him sidled in and out between them now, along with the electricity that never seemed to cease buzzing.
“Is there anywhere else you think I should look for a stash like this?” He waved at the remaining bottles.
“You could ask me,” Silas said from the doorway. Both Zack and Jenny jumped, startled by his appearance.
“All right,” Zack agreed quickly, deciding to face his father head-on in everything now. “Is there anyplace else you’d like me to clean out?” He tried to ignore the fact that his father was leaning on a cane and looking pale. His physician had warned them not to expect too much too soon, but it was hard seeing his father like this.
Silas entered the room and straightened up to his full six-foot height. “You don’t have to clean anything out. I haven’t had a drop of liquor for a year. I keep that assortment for my friends, or for cocktail parties, like the one I had to introduce Clay Sullivan to some possible clients. It was the same night we all watched your new movie.”
That derailed Zack’s thoughts. “You got a pirated copy?”
“I did. I didn’t want to wait for the premiere.”
Sometimes Zack forgot how well his father was connected. “You never told me you watched it.”
“Does it matter?”
Good question—and he really wasn’t sure of the answer. Did he want to know what his father thought about it? Chances were good Silas would have something critical to say. Not that Zack couldn’t take criticism. He’d had to take plenty of it to get where he was now. But coming from his father, it would be nice to hear something positive, some sort of encouragement or pat on the back he’d never gotten as a kid.
Silas stroked his mustache. “If you’re looking for cigars in addition to the liquor, you’ll find a box in my bottom desk drawer in my office. They’re underneath the Bible. I haven’t had a smoke in the past six months.”
As Zack looked into his father’s eyes, he wished he could believe him. But after years of hearing his dad lie to his mother so many times, he knew trust hadn’t even been a word in his father’s vocabulary.
Deciding to leave this discussion for the present, Zack asked his dad, “Is there anything I can bring you from upstairs to make you more comfortable down here?”
“I’ll only be comfortable when I’m in my own room again,” Silas grumbled.
Jenny, who’d been absorbing the conversation, stepped in. “It’s only for a few days, Silas. Besides, you’ll have a great view of the back pasture from the guest room. You can watch the yearlings when we let them out on the nice days.”
“Nice days?” Silas barked. “You won’t be seeing many more of them. I heard we’re in for snow next week.”
“So you can watch them frolic in the snow when I exercise them,” she responded, unfazed.
“While I eat sawdust and vegetables.”
“Do you think I’d let Martha serve you sawdust and vegetables? I’m smarter than that. We’re going to make such tasty recipes you won’t be able to resist.”
Finally, Silas broke into a slow smile. “If anybody can do it, you can.” He sighed and ran a hand through his halo of gray hair. “Already I’m more tired than if I’d ridden out to Feather Peak. Jeez, how long is this going to last?”
“You know what the doctor said. It could be a while—a month, two, maybe even three. But with a new diet and some exercise when you’re ready, you’ll be feeling better soon, Silas. I promise you.”
He looked at her the way a doting father looks at a loving daughter. “Your promises I believe.”
With a last glance at Zack, he said, “I’ll make that list.”
After Silas had gone, his cane tapping on the hardwood floor down the hall, Zack turned to Jenny, feeling somewhat unnerved by witnessing the bond that had developed between her and his dad. Was he envious of it? Yet how could he be when it had been his choice to put his dad in the recesses of his life for so many years?
“What if he doesn’t feel better in three months?” he challenged her. “What if the way he’s feeling now is as good as it gets? That happens, you know.”
“Maybe so. But I can’t think that way and Silas doesn’t need you thinking that way. We have to encourage him, day by day.” She studied Zack for so long it made him uncomfortable.
“What?”
“I don’t think you’re used to encouraging anyone, are you?”
“That’s not true. I deal with temperamental actors all the time.”
“That isn’t the same thing at all. I’m talking about common kindness, compassion and an optimistic