The Rancher's Legacy

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The Rancher's Legacy Page 15

by Jessica Keller


  Rhett pinched the bridge of his nose. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

  “Take it one day at a time,” Jack said. “And no matter what you decide, my family and I will be here to support you.”

  “Even if I did away with Camp Firefly?” Rhett didn’t know why he had tossed the question out there. Jack had come to know God because of Camp Firefly. The program meant the world to him. Of course he would want Rhett to reinstate it. But the cabins had been leveled and he’d been told it could take months for the insurance money to come through. So unless someone dropped a bundle of money and a crew of hundreds of workers on their doorstep, the ranch wouldn’t be ready to host visitors for a long time.

  Summer was only six weeks away.

  “Like I said.” Jack pulled on the gloves he wore to sift through rubble. The man had been stopping by in his off-hours to volunteer. “Whatever you decide, we care about your family, Rhett. You Jarretts might as well be cousins as far as I’m concerned. I want whatever is best for you guys and only you can make that decision.”

  Rhett thanked Jack before he headed outside, and not for the first time Rhett regretted how he had treated the man in the past. Jack had proved to be an invaluable help and an even better friend. Because of the man’s position with the Texas Department of Public Safety he was able to schedule relief workers, and since Red Dog Ranch had been the hardest hit out of anywhere, many of the volunteers were being diverted to them. Jack had been instrumental in coordinating transportation, food and lodging on the day of the tornado for all the remaining guests who had attended the fund-raising supper. He had also opened his house to Shannon and Rhett’s mom for the time being. Rhett had chosen to stay in his family’s house while the work was being done.

  Lives had been lost in the tornado, but none of the casualties had occurred at Red Dog Ranch. It was something Rhett found himself thanking God for multiple times a day. The morning after the storm they had held an impromptu church service in the small chapel near the mess hall, which had made it through the tornado completely unscathed. Rhett and the staff had sung worship songs together and had prayed and thanked God for His protection.

  Rhett’s property was mostly totaled, seven of his horses were missing, and at least an eighth of his cattle had perished, but Macy’s arm wound and a ranch hand with a broken leg had been the worst of their injuries. Much to Piper’s dismay no one had been able to locate Sheep and Romeo, which Rhett knew Macy felt terrible about, but they hadn’t found their bodies yet either so Rhett kept reminding both of them that there was hope.

  When Rhett finally decided to go into the office and assess the damages there, Kodiak tried to limp beside him, but the full cast on her back leg slowed her down considerably. Rhett sighed. He felt sorry for her. She couldn’t go in the water, couldn’t play fetch, couldn’t do any of the things that she loved.

  “Ah, ah, you.” Rhett picked his dog up and carried her back to the front porch of the family home. “I know it eats you up, but you have to stay off that leg. Don’t look at me with those sad eyes. Doctor’s orders.” He set her gently on the large dog bed he had hauled out there for her minutes ago.

  Kodiak harrumphed loudly but she laid her head down.

  “Stay,” Rhett commanded her. She had undergone surgery the night of the tornado and had had her back leg casted. Rhett had spent the night with her at the emergency vet clinic and hadn’t slept a wink.

  He still felt drained but he wasn’t sure if it was from not enough sleep or all the stress. More than likely it was a hefty mix of the two.

  Rhett had worked fourteen- to sixteen-hour days since the storm and during that time he had put off going to the office. He had told himself it was because there were plenty of other physical needs to attend to. Why should he spend time in the books when there were things to fix and repair? The office had been unreachable for the first forty-eight hours due to the fact that the tornado had seen fit to redecorate the building by dropping a bus on the front half of it. Rhett hadn’t been allowed in there until someone from the city had approved the structure.

  They had done so yesterday morning but Rhett had found other tasks to keep him busy.

  In truth, he had avoided it because it had been his father’s domain and Rhett had faced so many losses and setbacks, he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing the rest of his father’s possessions destroyed.

  But it was time.

  The bus had smashed into Macy’s section of the office so Rhett approached the back door, which led directly into his study. It was the door Macy had admonished him for sneaking out through that first night. Rhett sucked in a deep breath and then eased the door open. He was instantly hit with a strong musty scent. His dad’s books were scattered all over the room. The large desk was still in its place and for some reason that was enough to coax Rhett the rest of the way into the space. There was plenty of water damage from a large gap in the wall near the roof. Most of his dad’s papers were shot.

  Rhett’s throat burned as he assessed the area.

  Each smashed book, every scattered page and broken picture frame felt like another piece of his dad being taken away. He hadn’t mourned his father properly when he passed, but Rhett let the full impact of his death rest on him now as he stood in his father’s demolished office.

  His dad was gone. The thought hollowed him out just as much as the first time he had thought those words. Brock had been gone for more than a month, but knowing and accepting were two very different processes. Rhett would rebuild, but he would make it his own. The traces that had made it feel as if Brock was simply gone on an errand and would return later—all of that was gone.

  On the other side of the room the painting his mom had created of a herd of longhorns hung half off the wall, and there was another gaping hole in the wood paneling behind it. His mom had given the painting to his father as a Valentine’s day gift and Brock had cherished the thing. When Rhett still called Red Dog Ranch home not a week had elapsed without Brock gesturing at the painting and saying something like, “Look at that picture, my boy. That right there, it holds the secret to the most important thing in my life.” Rhett had always assumed his dad meant his wife. Marriage.

  Rhett made his way across the room to adjust the painting but the hook was gone. In fact... He lifted the painting away and balanced it on a chair to keep it away from the water. There was something behind the painting. What looked like a small fireproof chamber was built into the wall, perfectly concealed behind the painting. He pulled on the small handle and the door swung open to reveal a shoebox tucked inside. Rhett drew the box out.

  Heart pounding, he carried it to the desk and sat down. He opened the lid and the contents made his fingers shake as he tried to make sense of what was inside. A little stuffed red dog that was somehow familiar even though Rhett couldn’t remember ever seeing it before. And paperwork. An adoption certificate with his name and the names Brock and Leah Jarrett. His parents.

  But it didn’t make sense.

  Rhett dug into the box again and found pictures. A baby in a blue onesie sleeping next to the red stuffed dog. A baby laughing while he clutched the little red stuffed animal. He carefully flipped each one over and, sure enough, someone had written the dates on the backs. The pictures were of him. There were more papers in the box but Rhett didn’t know if he could handle what he might find. He braced an elbow on either side of the box, pressed a hand to each of his temples and stared at the contents. Spots flashed in his vision. He felt like a fish that had just been torn from the water and was left gasping for air.

  Brock and Leah weren’t his biological parents.

  Rhett’s head pounded.

  The back door to his office creaked on its hinges.

  “Rhett!” Macy burst in. “We found them! Sheep and Romeo. They were at the old Tennison Pond.”

  Rhett never took his eyes off the certificate of adoption. “That’s great.
Real great.” He spoke with no voice inflection.

  “Are you all right?” She stopped a few feet away.

  Rhett ran trembling fingers over his jaw. “I’m not sure.”

  Macy stepped closer. She scanned the desk and breathed, “Brock wanted to tell you. He loved you, Rhett.”

  Rhett’s head snapped up. “Did you know?”

  Macy held up her hands. “Let me explain.”

  “For how long?” He ground out the words.

  Her gaze darted away from his. She licked her lips. “It’s been less than two years.”

  “Two years?” Rhett shot to his feet. He jabbed at the adoption certificate. His adoption certificate. “You’ve known for two years that I was adopted and you kept it from me? How could you do that to me?”

  She flinched and took a step back. “I had to, Rhett. Please.”

  Rhett fought the rash urge to hurtle the shoebox across the room. Did everyone know? Was it some joke, some great prank they thought they could play with his life? He was thirty years old and just finding out the truth.

  They had lied to him. His whole life. It had all been a lie.

  He wasn’t a Jarrett.

  Macy’s shoe crunched on some of the wreckage in the office and the sound brought Rhett swiftly back into his surroundings.

  Rhett released a rattling breath. “I’d like you to leave.”

  “Hear me out.”

  “Right now.” He worked his jaw back and forth. “Please, just leave me alone.”

  “Rhett.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you about this. Not now.”

  He needed some time. Needed to process. Needed to be alone.

  He braced his hands on the desk and sank back into his chair. He suddenly felt very tired and very drained and Rhett didn’t think he could have kept standing if he had wanted to.

  He focused on the chamber in the wall that had hidden Brock’s secret.

  Rhett heard the door open again. Heard slow footsteps. Then nothing.

  She was gone and he told himself it was for the best.

  Chapter Twelve

  “All right.” Sophie Donnelley dried off the last cup, set it in a cupboard then pivoted to face Macy. She leaned against the counter. “We’ve left you to your own devices long enough. It’s time to spill.”

  Macy hugged her middle as she considered how best to dodge the conversation Sophie clearly wanted to have. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Not true.

  I’d like you to leave.

  I don’t want to talk to you about this.

  Rhett’s words flew through her mind like they had a hundred times since she left Red Dog Ranch. Guilt had draped itself around Macy, weighing her down. She had held a piece of truth about Rhett’s life and had kept it from him.

  In thirty-six hours Rhett hadn’t called her. Hadn’t texted.

  She wouldn’t blame him if he never forgave her.

  That day she had sat in her bungalow for an hour before deciding the only way to give Rhett the space he needed would be to actually leave the property. Red Dog Ranch had been her home for the last ten years and before that it had been her second home. All her friends were tied to the ranch in some way. Most of them lived on the property.

  After packing a bag, initially she hadn’t known where to go. She could have rented a hotel room in town, but she’d ended up absently driving around for a while. Intermittently switching between praying, turning up her music, pulling over to cry, praying some more. Without really meaning to she had finally ended up pulling into the Donnelleys’ driveway.

  Macy had almost left but Jack had happened to arrive home at the same time, and he had let her know that Shannon and Mrs. Jarrett had moved back to their property a few hours earlier because the windows had been installed and the power was back on. Then he’d told Macy he and Sophie wouldn’t hear of her going anywhere else as he’d ushered her inside.

  “Nice try.” Sophie draped the dish towel over her shoulder. She eyed Macy the same way Macy had seen her stare down her children when they needed a talking to. “Spill whatever it was that brought you to our door in tears yesterday with your belongings. Let’s start there.”

  She couldn’t evade the Donnelleys’ questions forever. Talking was inevitable. Besides, Macy had never been one to hold in her words.

  Except about Rhett’s origins.

  Except for the one time she most definitely should have talked.

  Macy gestured toward the table. “We should sit first.”

  “Jack and the kids are zonked out already so we can talk all night if you need to.” Sophie joined her there a few minutes later with two cups of sweet tea in hand. Macy told Sophie about when Rhett left the ranch and their first kiss. Then she shared about how she and Rhett had been treating each other like boyfriend and girlfriend ever since the storm.

  “I’ve loved him for so long and we’ve been through so much but...but I kept something really important from Rhett. Something he deserved to know.” Macy decided that Sophie didn’t need to hear every detail of the secret she’d kept from Rhett for her to understand and give advice. Besides, Rhett had only just learned he was adopted and now it was his right to tell or not tell people as he chose.

  There had been a time when Macy had almost asked Uncle Travis if he knew the truth, but she hadn’t been able to think of a way to broach the subject without revealing what she knew. If Travis did know, he had never said anything.

  When Macy finished telling her story, her chest felt empty, completely hollowed out. It had taken more than an hour and two refills of sweet tea to explain everything.

  Sophie tapped a finger on the table. “When he asked you to leave—”

  “Told me to leave.”

  Sophie arched an eyebrow. “He told you, like a command?”

  “I’m not sure, actually.” Macy shoved a hand through her hair. Her eyes hurt. She hadn’t slept much last night. “It happened so fast.”

  And her guilt might have been adding to the story.

  Sophie’s head tilted in thought. She pursed her lips then asked, “Did he say he wanted you gone forever?”

  Rhett hadn’t needed to say forever because Macy had seen it in the way he wouldn’t make eye contact, in his broken posture. Trust was hard fought and easily broken in Rhett Jarrett’s world.

  “He won’t want to see me again. Not after this,” Macy said. “Last time it took three years before we spoke. With what I kept from him this time around?” Macy hugged her middle again. Maybe she could keep her heart from feeling as if it was slinking away to some cave to hide. Probably not. “This is far worse. This could be forever.”

  “You only feel like that in the moment. But it sounds like last time around you two didn’t talk for three years for no other reason than you were both too stubborn and scared to return each other’s calls. How about try being vulnerable this time around and reaching out—with the understanding, of course, that he may need some time to process and that’s okay? Rhett taking time is not a rejection. You understand that, right?”

  But Sophie didn’t know what Macy had kept from Rhett. Macy had stumbled upon Rhett’s adoption paperwork when Brock was having the fireproof chamber installed. She had begged Brock to tell Rhett, but Brock had insisted she promise not to tell him. Supposedly he had made a promise to Rhett’s birth mother that Rhett would never know he was adopted.

  Later Macy had wondered more about the circumstances of Rhett’s birth. Why would a mother not want her child to know about his origins? She had approached Brock about it twice more within the first month of finding out, asking him to tell Rhett, but Brock had said he could never tell. He convinced Macy that Rhett would feel betrayed and could leave the family for good if he discovered the truth. With as divided as Rhett and Brock had been after Wade’s death, Macy had hardly
wanted a hand in driving them even further apart so against her better judgment she had agreed.

  Sophie’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Did Rhett actually say ‘I don’t want to see you again’?”

  “He didn’t have to.” Macy’s eyes burned. She needed to go to sleep. Needed to stop talking. “I really messed everything up, didn’t I?”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. Honestly, I feel like you’re making some leaps based on assumptions.” Sophie’s lips tipped up encouragingly. “I know we haven’t spoken much about it specifically, but you’re a woman of faith, right?”

  “I believe in God, yes.” Macy uncurled her arms so she could trace a notch in the table. Her other hand moved to cup the cool glass of tea. “Actually, when I was stuck in the tornado I had this moment of revelation. You see, my entire life I’ve felt like I didn’t measure up—not to my family, my friends or to God—but during that storm I realized that God’s always loved me and I didn’t have to do anything to earn His love.”

  “That’s a wonderful knowledge to have, isn’t it? There’s a Bible verse we’ve been going over in the women’s study group I’m a part of.” Sophie thumbed through a stack of papers on the table that was full of kids’ artwork. “I thought I had my notes here somewhere.” She pushed the papers away. “I can’t find the study sheet but the gist of it was that God never forsakes those who trust Him. The Bible mentions that truth many times. It’s almost as if God knew we would need to hear it over and over before we believed it.” Sophie smiled across the table. “God has not left you, He has not forsaken you and He will see you through this. Hang on to that.”

  Macy sighed. “God might be willing to ride this bumpy train with me, but what if Rhett’s not?”

  “I wouldn’t lose faith in Rhett if I were you,” Sophie said. “Give him time to absorb whatever it is he just learned about. Right now, be there for him in ways you can.”

  Macy’s sharp laugh held no humor. “I don’t think he wants me to be there for him at all.”

 

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