Page 63 of Red Hot Rancher

“She thought she was in love,” Rick added. “I think that was the problem with all those guys. She thought she should be in love with them.”

Joan nodded, her expression sage. “I can’t help but wonder if she stayed with him so long because she thought I liked him. As if I’d approve of a man who made my daughter feel horrible.”

Caleb’s brow rose of its own accord, but Joan saw before he could correct it.

She huffed, but it wasn’t aimed at him. “I know, right? Apparently, I’ve been making her feel horrible.”

He dipped his head. Joan was in a no-bullshit mood.

“The older she got, the more insecure she became. I thought I was helping her, not reinforcing those insecurities. I thought I was the support she needed. Those relationships seemed like what she really wanted, and I encouraged them.” Tears welled, and she inhaled a shaky breath. “She never said otherwise. You want to know what else she didn’t say?”

He kept his mouth shut. He had no idea where Joan was going with this, but this was the most she’d said to him in his entire life.

“She never said you treated her poorly. Because you didn’t. Right?”

His voice cracked. “I would never.” He hung his head. “Except for the last time I talked to her.”

Joan adamantly shook her head. “You never made her feel bad about her looks, her height, or her weight. You never made her search for a career she hated to make you happy. You never…” Joan’s direct gaze tagged his. “You never held me against her.”

“I…” Well, they were being honest. “I have always loved her.”

“And I knew that. I could see how you adored her.” Joan reached across the table, her hand stretching out. He brought one hand up, unsure of what to do. Joan gripped him, her fingers curled around his. “All this time, you were the one smoothing the way for her to be herself. And I held your upbringing against you.”

He stiffened at the mention of his past, but Joan squeezed his hand. “For what it’s worth, my comments were aimed at your mother. But the target they hit was you. I should’ve kept my mouth shut and supported you.”

Rick scooted closer and patted his shoulder. This moment was more affection than what his own parents had shown him.

“I can be overly protective of my children,” she continued. “And the way I go about it has hurt others. I justified it to myself, thinking that you had so much stacked against you, you’d only drag Brigit down.”

He flinched. It was one thing to suspect it, but to hear it was another.

“I did the same thing with Travis’s wife.” Her words were barely audible. “It scares me to think of how I could’ve interfered with his happiness. I think it’s time I learned my lesson.”

“We’re awfully proud of you, Caleb,” Rick said gruffly. “You were a good kid, a little reckless, but the man you grew up to be would make any parent proud.”

Caleb snorted. “Not any parent.”

“I’m sorry,” Joan whispered. “You’ve faced more than I can ever know. Justin tells us about you. Finishing school. Your recent promotion. The way you help him and still run your ranch.”

“I have a lot of help.” He couldn’t take all the credit when Justin, Jesse, and Farah backed him up.

“As you should.” Rick sat back in his chair. “I had four brothers and it was a hard life. Selling cars is a whole lot easier than selling cows.”

Joan patted his hand and sat back. “But it’s what Brigit wants. She told me about the extra courses she took. I think it doubled her guilt.”

It had.

Rick nodded. “Joan and I are doing just fine. We put our kids through school like we wanted to, and we live in a nice home and enjoy our jobs. It was worth putting retirement off.”

“It may take a while for Brigit to see that, but I think you can help. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

Caleb braced himself, but never would he have guessed what they had planned.

Brigit danced from boot to boot. Her gloves and winter coat were heavy enough to ward off the chill. Her nose was probably pink, but she didn’t care. Caleb would be walking out these doors at any moment.

The last few hours had been excruciating. Justin had brought her to the car that Brock had fixed up for her—a present from all the cousins, with a full tank of gas—then sent her off with the name of a hotel and a time of arrival.

It was quite a gamble, but Dad had texted that Caleb was on his way to Minneapolis. They’d flown Caleb there, and she could drive and get him—after they spent the night. The getaway was a little gift from her parents, paid for with furniture money.

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