Chapter 36

“Dayton, I was about to get on a horse and come looking for you myself!” Martha scolded him, when more than a half hour later he walked into the kitchen. “It’s been dark for ages!”

Leaning down, Dayton kissed his mother’s cheek, then tiredly pulled off his hat, “If I’d known you were about to get up enough nerve to ride, I’d have stayed out later.”

Shaking her head at him, she hurried over to the stove where she was frying pork steak in a huge iron skillet, “Where have you been anyway? The hands have been gone for at least an hour or more.”

“A cow was missing over in the east pasture. I was looking for her.”

Martha glanced up from the frying meat to see her son swipe a weary hand over his face. “Did you find her?”

He nodded, “Finally. Is supper ready?”

“By the time you wash, it will be,” Martha told him.

Down the hallway, in his bedroom, Dayton sluiced his face with hot water, cleaned his hands, then changed his muddy denim shirt for a plaid flannel. His jeans were also muddy and splotched with manure, but he didn’t have time to change them or his boots. He’d do that later when he got ready for bed. And the way he felt at the moment, that wouldn’t be too long from now.

Martha sighed as she watched her son slump into a chair at the kitchen table. “You look exhausted, Dayton. You work too hard.”

Dayton shrugged. “There’s always something that needs doing, Mom. You know how it is.”

“Yes, I know,” Martha replied, her tone affectionate yet firm. She turned back to the stove, flipping the steaks with practiced ease. “But you still need to take care of yourself. You’re not invincible, you know.”

Dayton chuckled softly, though it lacked his usual warmth. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Martha set the skillet aside, moving with the practiced grace of someone who had spent years preparing meals for her family. She walked over to Dayton and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I worry about you, Dayton. You’ve been through so much. Losing Mel was hard on all of us, but especially on you. You need to give yourself time to heal.”

Dayton looked up at his mother, his eyes reflecting a deep well of pain and fatigue. “I know, Mom. But the work helps. Keeps my mind off things.”

Martha nodded, understanding but not entirely convinced. “Just promise me you’ll try to find some balance. You deserve a life outside of this ranch, Dayton. You deserve to be happy.”

He gave her a small, tired smile. “I’ll try, Mom. I promise.”

Martha returned to the stove, flipping the pork steaks one last time before transferring them to a platter. She brought the food to the table, setting it down in front of Dayton. “Eat up, son. You need your strength.”

“Tea or coffee, Dayton?” Charlene asked as they ate.

“Coffee. I need something to unthaw me.”

She poured him a cup and passed it down to him. Martha joined them at the table with a platter of biscuits.

Dayton glanced from his mother and sister, then to Shayna’s empty chair. When he’d passed her bedroom in the hallway, he’d noticed a light coming from under the door, but he’d figured she’d simply left it on.

“Shayna isn’t coming to eat?” Martha asked Charlene.

Charlene shook her head glumly, then slanted an accusing look at her brother.

“No. She said she wasn’t hungry.”

“The child has to be hungry,” Martha reasoned with a frown. “She didn’t eat but a few bites at lunch.”

“I tried my best,” Charlene said, “she doesn’t want to join us. She says she wants to finish that presentation for the decor she’s been working on all evening.”

Martha held the platter of biscuits out to Dayton. He forked three to his plate before passing them on to his sister.

“I’ll take her a tray of something later. Maybe she’ll eat then.” Charlene said.

Dayton suddenly slammed down his fork, “What the hell are you going to do that for? She doesn’t need to be coddled!”

Charlene turned a glare on her brother, “No. She needs to be treated like a human being. Something, it appears, that you’ve forgotten how to do.”

Dayton frowned at her, “What’s that supposed to mean? It isn’t my fault that Shayna doesn’t want to come out and face us!”

“And just whose fault is it, Dayton? Mother and I weren’t the ones who accused her of being a fugitive from the law!”

“She told you that?”

He was close to shouting the question. Martha looked at him calmly, “I had a talk with Shayna, Dayton.”

“And now I’m supposed to feel guilty because I questioned her about leaving New York? That shouldn’t have insulted her. Unless she’s guilty of something.”

Charlene made a snorting noise while Martha said, “Perhaps it was the way you went about it?”

Dayton’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, “She’s supposed to be handled with kid gloves. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“I’m just saying you could be a little more sensitive,” Martha suggested.

Frowning, Dayton stabbed a biscuit with his fork, then ripped it open. “Why should I be? The woman pumps me for private information.”

Charlene groaned, “Dayton, it’s a good thing you’ve never been inclined to marry again. The way you are, I doubt you’d have much luck keeping a wife.”

A cold, distant look crept slowly over his features, “I doubt I would, either. After all, I didn’t with the first one, did I?”

Charlene’s expression was suddenly remorseful, “Oh, I—I’m sorry, Dayton. I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t talking about MEL.”

Dayton was suddenly too weary to eat. Picking up his coffee cup, he rose to his feet, “Forget it, sis.”

Charlene reached out, her eyes pleading. “Dayton, wait. Please don’t leave like this. I know you’re hurting, but you’re pushing everyone away. Even Shayna. Can’t you see she’s just as lost as you are?”

Dayton halted, his back to his sister. The tension in his shoulders was palpable. He turned slowly, his face etched with pain and frustration. “Charlene, you don’t understand. She doesn’t trust me. She thinks I’m just another man who will hurt her. And maybe she’s right.”

Charlene shook her head, rising to her feet and moving toward her brother. “That’s not true, Dayton. You’re a good man. You just need to show her that. Be patient, be kind. She’s been through hell, and she needs to know she can rely on you.”

Dayton set his coffee cup down on the counter, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve tried, Charlene. But every time I get close, she pushes me away. I don’t know how to break through her walls.”

Charlene placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to break through anything. Just be there for her. Consistently. Show her that you’re not going anywhere, no matter how many times she tries to push you away. She’ll come around eventually.”

Dayton sighed. “I hope you’re right, Charlene. Because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Charlene smiled, “I know I’m right. Just hang in there, big brother. Things will get better. For both of you.”

Dayton nodded, the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Thanks, sis. I’ll try.”

Charlene watched him go, her heart aching for her brother and the woman who had clearly touched his heart. She hoped they would find their way through the pain and uncertainty, and come out stronger on the other side. For now, all she could do was offer her support and encouragement, and hope that it would be enough.

At the far end of the house, there was a study that Dayton used as an office. He hated paperwork and usually put it off until his desk was running over with statements and receipts. But tonight he was looking for anything to get his mind off Shayna.

In the small room, Dayton switched on a desk lamp and turned on the radio. The polished mahogany desk gleamed under the light, and a neat stack of feed bills rested on the corner. Dayton began posting them in the ledger, his movements precise and methodical. As he came to the last and latest one, he muttered a curse under his breath.

Horse feed had taken a sharp rise. Twenty cents more on a sack. With his ink pen, he scratched out a quick tabulation on the margin of the ledger book. At that rate, he’d be paying eighty dollars more a ton. Three hundred and forty dollars more a month.

Tossing the bill to one side, he leaned back in his leather chair and linked his hands at the back of his neck. The ranch could easily absorb the extra expense, but he’d definitely rather be spending the money on new fencing or perhaps upgrading the stables.

Dayton considered his options. He could get rid of two, maybe three of the older horses, but in the long run, that wouldn’t make much of a difference to the ranch’s bottom line. Besides, he might as well face it, he was attached to all of them, and deciding which two or three to sell would be like deciding which leg or arm he wanted to give up. That’s why he’d been eager to show the horses to Shayna. They were like his children, and he’d wanted her to enjoy them as much as he did.

He turned his attention to a different set of papers, detailing the ongoing upgrades to both the main ranch and the new property he had recently acquired. The renovation of the old barn on the new ranch was nearly complete, and the plans for the guest cottages were coming along nicely. However, the contractor’s fees were higher than anticipated. He made a note to review the latest invoice from the construction company, ensuring there were no discrepancies.

Dayton’s eyes skimmed over the detailed financial reports, checking the expenses for new fencing, improved irrigation systems, and the installation of solar panels on the ranch house and barns. The upgrades were part of his long-term plan to make the ranch more sustainable and efficient. He was determined to invest in the future, even if it meant higher short-term costs.

His phone buzzed on the desk, displaying a message from one of the contractors working on the new stables. The foundation had been laid, and they were ready to start framing next week. Dayton typed a quick response, approving the next phase of the project.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. Running two ranches was no small feat, but he took pride in his work. The expenses were substantial, but he had the means to cover them without cutting corners. He was committed to maintaining the high standards his family had always upheld.

Dayton’s thoughts drifted to Shayna. He had hoped she would appreciate the ranch and the effort he put into it. The argument with her still gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside for now. There were always a thousand things demanding his attention, and he needed to stay focused.

Shayna! Why did she keep coming back to his thoughts? Why couldn’t he forget about the way he’d kissed her? The way she’d kissed him back!

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Knowing how his mother hated it when a person didn’t eat, he expected to see her come waltzing into the room with a loaded tray of food.

Without looking around, he said, “Mother, I’m not starving to death, I’ll eat—”

“It’s not your mother.”