Page 3 of The Science of Attraction

“He’s right,” my mother gently reproved the old shepherd. “You can take a seat if you want, but this is not your argument.”

Marty grunted and stepped inside. But rather than sit, he stood with his back to the gleaming cream granite worktop that ran the length of the back wall to the scullery and was currently groaning under the weight of about two million jars of preserves. When my mother was stressed, she bottled everything in sight. Enough said.

Chip gave a soft whimper, reflecting the tension in the room, and my father immediately dropped his good hand to scratch the border collie’s ears, like he was seeking comfort himself. The realisation gave me pause and I took a few seconds to calm the fuck down. There were many things about my father that had changed since the stroke, but this new vulnerability, albeit cloaked in pissy, stubborn anger, was the hardest to get my head around. Paddy Lane had never shown any weakness.Ever.

I sighed and lowered my voice. “You can’t continue criticising people and expect them to keep taking it. You’ve got Stuart applying for jobs down Queenstown way, and I’ve never seen Tennyson so upset as he was after he left that meeting with you yesterday, which I never even knew about, by the way.” I eyeballed him. “He showed me the note and all the instructions you gave him?—”

“What note?” My mother’s gaze shot to my father who refused to meet it. “Paddy, you’re not supposed to be...” she trailed off with a sigh. “What have you been doing?”

I shook my head. “What the hell were you thinking, telling Ten you wanted the western mob moved because the stock looked poorly? Tennyson is the best stock manager around these parts, and the mob are in first-class condition. He brought you that fleece you wanted yesterday, so you know damn well how good it is... and why. That extra feed I bought wasn’t a luxury spend and you know it. It didexactlywhat it was meant to. But did you tell Ten how good the wool was? No, you complained it could’ve been better and insinuated it was because of Ten’s management and his inability to keep me in check.”

I chanced a look at Marty who was openly staring at my father, confusion written on his face. “The wool is good, Paddy. Real good.”

So the old man wasn’t a complete lost cause after all.

My father had the grace to blush and look away, but he said nothing.

I pressed, wanting him to understand. “There isn’t a station around these parts that wouldn’t give their right arm to employ Ten. You know that.”

My father’s hand froze on Chip’s head. “He... wouldn’t...” He frowned and didn’t finish.

“I dunno, Dad. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I can tell he’s not happy. I can’t run this place on my own, and right now I can’t run it with you like we did before either. Not yet. Maybe not ever and you know that.” I let that sink in. “But if you want the station to continue being successful, you need to let me run itmyway. You have to start trusting me. I’m not cutting you out. You knoweverythingwe’re doing. We talk every day, and I listen, Dad. I really do listen. But the doctors were super clear—if you don’t make big changes to reduce your stress and hand over a lot of the station responsibility, you’re heading for another stroke. Maybe worse.”

The kitchen fell silent—a hundred years of history, a hundred years of family arguments and laughter and celebration and grief, all waiting on another instalment. My father ground his teeth and wiped at the fine line of drool making its way down his chin. The drum of rain on the skylight above the table grew louder and I sighed. Just what I needed. I’d be soaked to my skin before I made it home that night.

“What Jules is saying is true, Paddy.” My mother took my father’s good hand in hers and I was surprised he didn’t fight it. “You still get... episodes.” She winced. “Remember this morning? You had no idea what day it was or even if it was winter or summer until after breakfast.”

My father shot her a furious glare like she’d betrayed him.

She stiffened, eyeballing him in a way I’d never seen before. “Don’t you give me any of that.” She poked him in the chest and I almost fell off my chair. “The people at this table know you better than anyone else. Whether you like it or not, Jules is running this station. He needs to know. So does Marty. You’ve tried to convince everyone you’re fine, that it’s only getting around that’s the problem. But it’s not true. You can’t just pick up the reins again, Paddy.” She looked to where Marty stood with his mouth hanging open, my father’s ongoing episodes of confusion clearly news to him. “He can’t, Marty, and that’s all there is to it.”

I blinked. It was the first time I’d ever heard her speak to Marty like that about my father, and it shocked the hell out of me.

My father’s gaze immediately dropped to the floor, his jaw set in anger.

“No one’s saying you can’t be involved.” She spoke more quietly. “But it has to be in the background. You’re in no position to take any responsibility for this place right now.” She smiled and leaned into him. “And I’m not ready to lose you yet, you old goat.”

He glanced up and I could’ve sworn there was a glint of tenderness somewhere in his eyes, although I wouldn’t have bet on it.

Still, my mother must’ve seen it because her expression softened. “Right now, we need to focus on reducing your stress, managing your diet, and getting on with your rehab just like the doctors said.”

My mother’s expression remained unrelenting, and my father eventually sighed and pushed the keys back across the table. There was reluctant resignation and an element of defeat in his eyes, but he said nothing.

I took the keys and held his gaze. “And can you try being, if not nice, then at least a tiny bit grateful to the people who are trying to help keep things on track for you, forus? And that includes Zach and Holden and the rest of the Miller crew.”

His expression soured and he grunted something that may or may not have been agreement. Most likely not.

Still, I pressed my luck. “And no more notes to Ten, okay? Any instructions go through me, so remember that when you see him this afternoon.” I stared him down, knowing full well he wanted to fight me on it.

He glared a moment longer, then reluctantly nodded. “Fine.”

It was a small win, but I took it. There were few enough to be had when it came to my father.

“Ah... hello? Sorry to interrupt, but I did try the front door.”

All eyes turned to the man standing in the open veranda doorway, water dripping from his soaked hair down his face. “When no one came, I followed the voices. I hope that’s okay?” Warm hazel eyes tracked the room, lingering on mine for just long enough to set a curious buzz running under my skin.

If I hadn’t just been checked out, I’d eat my fucking hat.

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