that is exactly what he’d done, Sam didn’t respond.
“Dear Lord, I’m right, aren’t I? You looked at some pictures on the line—”
“Online, Gramps,” Chelsea said and Sam wanted to object. Don’t encourage him.
“And maybe read, what, a couple of books or magazines? Now you think you know how it’s done?”
Still, Sam didn’t respond. He wasn’t as naive as they thought. He knew he’d be faking a lot, but he was doing the best he could with the little he had.
“My God, don’t do this.” Gramps slammed his juice cup onto the table. “It shows disrespect for real cowboys. They aren’t some cliché you see in old movies. They’re real hard workers. I admire those men and women. They are as tough as they come but can be real gentle when they need to be.”
“What do you mean, Gramps?” Sam’s daughter, who didn’t care about anything Sam said these days, hung on her great-grandfather’s every word.
“They love their animals, but will put one down in the blink of an eye if it’s in pain. Tough people.”
“Put one down?” Chelsea squeaked.
“Yep, sweetheart. If they have to.”
“Even their own, like, horses?”
“Or dogs. Knew a kid, only thirteen, out plowing in the field. Ran over his dog. No one else was home. Dog was mangled, suffering something fierce, dying. That boy ran to the house and loaded a rifle. When he got back to his dog, he shot him. Put him out of his misery.”
Chelsea covered her mouth with her black-nailed hands. “He killed his own dog? Gramps, that’s awful.”
“Yeah, but it was the right thing to do. Showed compassion. Said it was the toughest thing he’d ever done in his life. ’Course, his life isn’t over yet. Who knows what else he’ll be called on to do before his life is over.”
Chelsea stared at Sam, the look in her eye clearly saying, “Could you do that?”
Chelsea and Gramps didn’t get that he could be as tough as he needed to be to protect his family.
Sam knew how hard the job would be, but he also knew he was strong. Maybe not in the same way but durable enough in spirit. He’d be damned before he let anyone in this town get the better of his grandfather.
“You think you can take on that kind of job?” Gramps watched him.
“I will do the job to the best of my abilities. I’m a hard worker, I don’t mind putting in long hours and I’m more capable than you think.”
Gramps’s expression softened. “Your parents were quick to share your accomplishments. They were always proud. I know how smart you are and all the things you’ve done, but this is another barrel of horseshoes altogether.”
Sam needed to steer away from this argument.
“Who are the other women? I forget their names.” He didn’t really. Sam had a mind like a steel trap, but he hoped Gramps might have some new information to help Sam get the job done.
“Nadine Campbell, Honey Armstrong and Max Porter. Oh, and a new one. Samantha Read.”
“Any relation to the guy, Travis, who we’re heading off to meet?”
“His sister,” Gramps responded. “New to town like him.”
“If these women are so keen to do something for this town, why don’t they create something of their own instead of taking over your fair and rodeo?”
“Because the fair is there and already set up. The rides, the concession stands, the fairgrounds, the barns and stables. All they have to do is renovate and update.” His grandfather stared out of the window again. “I never wanted it to lie fallow all of those years. It’s special, Sam.”
Before Sam could say anything, his grandfather glanced from his grandchild to his great-grandchild. “Go see the fairgrounds. It’s your heritage. Take Chelsea. It’s her heritage, too.”
“We did, Gramps,” Chelsea said. “I love it.”
“You saw it?”
“On the way over here.”
A slow smile spread on Gramps’s face. “You love it?”
“Yeah. It’s magical.”
“It sure is,” Gramps agreed.
The two of them talked like children, Gramps taking a childlike delight in Chelsea’s enthusiasm. While pleased to see him happy, Sam had to remember to bring it up with Gramps’s doctor. Was it regression?
To Sam, he said, “I never agreed with your father’s decision not to bring you home to visit.”
Sam didn’t like criticism of his parents, even if their values didn’t always jibe with his own.
“Don’t grimace, Sam. This should have been as much your home as New York was. It’s your heritage. And now you can finally get to know the place and the people.”
“Why didn’t Dad ever come home? He would never tell me when I asked.”
“A woman,” Gramps barked. “Why else? He was young and foolish and heartbroken. Silly pup.”
“Who? Did the woman stay in town?”
“She married someone else. She’s still here.”
“Dad did all right with Mom. They seemed to be happy.” His mom had died five years ago.
Gramps motioned for Sam to come around to the back of his chair. “Push me out to the sunroom. Faces east. Too hot in the morning. Have to wait until afternoon. It’ll be cool enough now.”
Sam wheeled him down the hallway, with Chelsea walking alongside holding Gramps’s hand. “Which way?”
“Right at the far end.” He took a big plaid hankie out of his pocket and blew his nose. “Pretending to be a cowboy might be your first failure, Sam.”
No, not his first. Not even close.
What of his marriage? What of his wife leaving in the most dishonest way possible? What of not protecting himself from his father-in-law?
What of not being able to protect his child from the fallout?
He glanced at Chelsea. What of his failure to bridge the gap that separated them?
Sam positioned Gramps beside a window that looked out onto a golden field with low purple-gray hills in the distance.
“Can you visit while you’re staying in Rodeo or will that blow your cover?”
Blow his cover? “Gramps, this isn’t a spy movie. But, yeah, we’ll visit a lot. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” Or maybe they would. Were cowboys still expected to break in Mustangs? He didn’t have a clue. He’d have to look it up online. Why? No way could he fake that.
Could he fake any of it?
In the solarium, another resident, a tiny woman with an eye for Gramps and a tiny shih tzu in her lap caught Chelsea’s attention, and she went and played with the dog and talked to the woman.
Yet again, she had more smiles for everyone else than she did for him. A split second of despair rattled him. How did he bridge the gap?
“She sure likes animals, doesn’t she?” Gramps asked.
“She’s never met an animal she didn’t like.”
“How long you planning to stay?”
“I have a month to determine the intentions of these women.”
“How come you can take so much time off work? I know you’re the