Page 62 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

He was sunk.

Chance whistled through the revelation, a grin stuck to his mug. He wandered up to the back porch of the main house and looked up to where Ace kept a small study off of his bedroom. A faint glow filtered through the glass. In this small space, Ace stacked up history: books, papers, maybe even a secret or two.

Inside the main house, the air smelled faintly of pipe tobacco and old leather, and he frowned. Smoking was off limits for Ace. Had been for a long time. He found his father sitting in his usual spot—an armchair by the fireplace, though no fire burned in the hearth tonight. Just the lamp on the side table casting light across Ace’s weathered face.

“You made it,” Ace said, his voice raspier than usual.

“I made it.” Chance stepped inside, his eyes searching for remnants of his father’s cigar. When he didn’t find it, nor evidence of a pipe, he asked, “Doing okay tonight?”

Ace frowned and stilled his gaze. He was either annoyed or amused. Maybe a little of both. “Not planning to keel over tonight, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Twasn’t, but alright.”

Ace gave out a garbled laugh, then coughed into his fist. “Haven’t changed, son. I say what I mean. I didn’t say come ‘cause I’m dying. I said come ‘cause I’ve got something on my mind.”

Chance took a seat on the leather love seat. He leaned forward, intent on what his father had to say. He waited, forearms resting on his thighs, hands clasped. Ace didn’t like to be rushed.

“Been thinking.” Ace shifted in his seat. “Far too much, I admit. Sitting around this much has made me introspective.”

Chance smiled softly. “You’re not much for sitting still.”

“No. Never was. Neither was your mother.” Ace’s gaze wandered toward the empty fireplace. “She always said I’d die with my boots on. Maybe she was right.”

Chance’s chest tightened. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Dying is a part of life, son—but right now, that’s not what I’m thinking about.”

“I’m listening.”

“I think it’s getting close to when I will begin to hand off some of my ranch responsibilities. Maybe I’m not there yet, but, in the meantime, I am trying to make absolutely sure that therightpeople are in therightplace when the time comes for me to take a step back.”

Chance sat straighter. “You thinking of stepping back?”

Ace rocked his head side to side, measuring the words. “I can’t do all this forever. Between you and me, I’ve made a few mistakes trying to.”

Chance didn’t say anything, but the wordRafaelhovered in the back of his mind.

Ace lifted his chin, looking downward at his son. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Tell me what I’m thinking.

“You were blindsided by my foreman decision.”

Chance crossed his arms in front of his body. “Didn’t have to be that way, you know. We could’ve talked it over first, presented a united front with the decision.”

“Maybe I should’ve. In hindsight,” Ace admitted. “But I needed to see how you’d handle it. Whether you’d get bitter and withdraw or keep showing up.”

“And?”

Ace nodded deliberately, his lips pressed together. “You’re here.”

“Want to know why?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Because this place matters to me—you matter to me.”

Ace leaned his head against his chair, his hands folded over his stomach. “You’ve always done your work. You’re reliable. But for a long time, I couldn’t tell if you wanted to be here, or if you were just here ‘cause there wasn’t somewhere else to be.”

Chance let out a slow breath. “I chose this. I came back.”

Ace nodded, quiet for a moment. “It has not gone unnoticed.”

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