Seeing You Read Free Page A

couple months.”
    Well, shit, I hoped so. How long could a man live with filth like this?
    “Yeah, about that. Why isn’t Mary coming out here still? Wade wouldn’t say.”
    Erin sighed and confirmed my suspicions by saying, “I don’t really know. I asked her when I saw her in the grocery store the other day, and she didn’t really give an answer. All she said was she felt bad, but she has a family.”
    “So he probably wasn’t paying her either.”
    “What? Are you serious?”
    “Yeah. Damn. I wonder if he’s even looked at the books lately.”
    “It’s really that bad? Oh God. I knew things were getting thin, but I never thought… He’ll never survive it if he loses the ranch too. Never.”
    “He’s not going to lose it. I won’t let that happen.” My voice came out sounding sure and strong, and I was glad.
    “I’m glad you’re home, Dylan. Real glad. Now come over here for dinner tonight. Mike’s coming home from work early, and he’s anxious to hear how you got along with all the snobs on the East coast. See if you can drag Wade with you, but come without him if you can’t.” Her tone of voice said she had little hope I would actually be able to convince Wade to go.
    “All right. Sounds good. Tell the girls they better be prepared to help me fill my bear hug quota. I have fourteen months to make up for.” More than she knew.
    We said our goodbyes, and I stood there staring at the wall and thinking.
     
    Returning to the ranch later that night after dinner at Erin’s, I turned off the engine of my truck and just sat there staring out into the darkness. I could hear Billy and Joe talking and laughing on the front porch of the bunkhouse, and I tried to identify the feeling that was running through me.
    It felt foreign, and I tried to pinpoint it. I thought back to dinner and the worry in Erin’s eyes when she asked about Wade and the ranch, to the disappointed looks on the girls’ faces when they realized Uncle Wade wasn’t with me, to all the work I did today and the endless list for the next day, and the next, and the next.
    I felt the feeling move through me, pumping my blood, quickening my breathing, tightening my hands into fists, and I recognized it from the days after Simon’s death. Anger.
    It had been a while since I felt anger at anyone else besides myself, and I took a moment to savor it. It actually felt good.
    The next minute I was out of my truck and racing into the house, calling Wade’s name. I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer, and I went tearing up the stairs, searching all the rooms until I found what I was looking for.
    Fifteen minutes later, I stood back and admired the way Simon’s three paintings looked on the wall in Wade’s bedroom. Looking at the one of Wade seated atop Rudy out near the pond, it was obvious why other people had been willing to pay Simon to teach them how to paint. What was also obvious, and what couldn’t be taught, was the emotion that rolled off that painting. So much love.
    I knew exactly how Simon had felt.

Chapter Four
     
    I was sitting at Wade’s desk the next morning, digging through the mess of paperwork to try to figure out where the Lazy G stood financially, when the man himself stomped in and slammed both hands down on the desk. He towered over me, probably trying to intimidate me. It might have worked if I hadn’t seen this bluff play out over the many disagreements he and Simon had over the seven years they lived together.
    I decided a little preemptive strike was necessary here and said, “Do you even know if the Lazy G is in the black these days?” Wade looked briefly taken aback, and before he could answer, I waved my hand at the mess of papers on his desk, and said, “Of course you don’t.”
    Wade ignored that. “Were you the one who put the paintings back up?” Oh, yeah, Wade was angry. Growling. Despite feeling happy at the evidence that Wade wasn’t a completely empty shell, I used the residual anger I