Page 106 of Second Start: Family
“Tell him,” she whispered to both.
“There was a lot wrong between your mom and me, Dan. Nearly all of it was wrong between us from the start and it didn’t get better. But not you. Not you and Molly and Lizzie and Bobby. You are all that was right. You are all that made me get up every day and do my damnedest to keep things going, with her, with the ranch, with everything. Because it didn’t matter how you might have come into the world. It only matters that you are. And the fact that you are is what’s kept my heart pumping from the instant you were born.”
“But… but…”
“I haven’t wanted you to go away on that scholarship, because I don’t want to lose you.” Hall took a step toward Dan. “To lose you for good. I kept hoping … Somehow… Somehow we’d find a way.”
“But…”
Hall’s broad back blocked her view of the boy, but she heard tears in his voice.
She edged toward the door.
Without turning, Hall’s arm reached out, gathering her in.
“You’re going to hear this, too.”
Then he addressed his son again.
“I love you, Dan. Always have. Always will. You can make me angrier than I ever knew I could get, but I suppose that’s part of it, too. I love you and I’m proud of you. How you are with people, especially your sisters and brother. Your good thinking and your courage during the fire. How smart you are in school.
“The scholarship … I didn’t want to lose you, Danny. That’s why I fought it. I didn’t want to lose you — and I thought I already had.”
The memory was there between them — the other hospital waiting room, the raw shock of Annie’s death, the bitter, slicing words.
Why couldn’t it have been you?
No … not between them. Connecting them.
“What I said…” Danny started, faltering.
Hall interrupted him. “Wasn’t anything I hadn’t said to myself.”
“You—?”
“Yeah. We don’t get that choice, though. What matters now is how we go ahead.”
“But… I’m no good at ranching.”
Hall gathered in his son with his other arm, holding the boy against his chest. “You can learn if you want to or you can do something else. We’ll figure it out.” He tightened his arm around Kenzie as she let her tears flow. “If I say you can take the scholarship—”
“I haven’t even taken the test or—”
“You’ll get it. And if I say you can accept it, there’re strings. You have to come home, Danny. A lot. You have to call. You have to make time for us to visit you.” He pulled in a breath. “You have to be part of the family. You have to be my son.”
Moisture slid from his son’s eyes. “After what I said, I didn’t think you—”
Hall stopped the words by tightening his hold. Letting Dan know through touch that Hall wasn’t letting go. Ever.
“You’re my son.”
*
Two hours later, the main waiting room door swung open to a jubilant Grif.
“It’s a girl! She’s perfect. Ellyn’s perfect. I just came in to let you know. I’m going right back. Then the kids will see her.”
He spun around, nearly knocking over the aide behind him.
