Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)(88)

“I imagine. You two were always thick as thieves.”


That comment kicked her grief to the surface, not that she’d ever buried it deep. She scrambled to change the subject. “So retirement, huh? What will you do with yourself when you don’t have to slop hogs?”


“Maybe I’ll end up baby-sitting Deck and Tara-Lee’s kid,” he said with a laugh. “But since he’s getting a cut of the profit, Deck will likely be takin’…” He glanced up sharply. “Sorry. I know Deck is a sore subject.”


Do ya think?


“But now that the cat’s out of the bag, I want to explain—”


Georgia held up her hand. “Don’t go there. Please. We were having a nice lunch and I don’t want my appetite spoiled.”


“We do need to talk about this at some point, Georgie. It’s been seven years.”


The food arrived.


“So what’s your main responsibility in this job?” he asked.


Grateful that he’d switched topics, she smiled. “I’m at the rodeo grounds to make sure our portion of the event is handled properly. Working with the committees beforehand. Selling ads. Lining up radio spots.”


He sliced off a big chunk of meat. “What happens when the summer rodeo season ends?”


“I return to Dallas. But keep that to yourself. I don’t want any of our contractors afraid I’ll bail out early, since we’re the new kid around town.”


He grunted and steadily demolished his steak.


The conversation lagged, but not due to tension.


“Thanks for inviting me to lunch, Dad.”


“You’re welcome.” He leaned back in the booth, folding his arms and setting them on his belly. “So am I gonna get to see you again before you take off?”


“I’ll try. The road runs both ways. You could venture to Sundance.”


“I’ll keep that in mind.”


Her father was looking at her in a way she’d never seen before—with regret. “What?”


“People change, Georgie. Holdin’ a grudge ain’t no way to go through life.”


Was he talking about her forgiving Deck?


Maybe he’s taking about you forgiving him.


She inhaled a slow breath. “I’m listening.”



“Took me a while, but I’m finally starting to realize what anger cost me.”


“Who were you angry at?”


“God. For takin’ my boy away. I lost my faith.”


Robert Hotchkiss had always been a man of faith, not merely paying lip service to being a Christian. He’d tried to lead his life according to God’s rules and by example, expecting his family to follow suit. It hadn’t been the easiest way to grow up, but she hadn’t questioned it. Not until RJ had died. Although she’d veered away from the teachings of the church, she still didn’t judge those people who abided by the tenets of their religions, just as long as they didn’t try and push their beliefs on her.


So his response about losing his faith startled her—maybe that’s why her father had become so unrecognizable in the wake of RJ’s death. He’d had no one to turn to. So he’d turned on everyone.


“But the worst part?” he continued in a small voice. “Because of that anger, I also lost your mom. And you. I lost everything and everyone that mattered to me.” He looked down. “It ain’t right. And I don’t know what I can do to make it right.”


Neither do I.


“But I’m willing to do anything, Georgia.”


What did it mean that he wanted to try and make amends?


Her phone buzzed, reminding her of her next appointment. She said, “Dad, I have to go.”


“I understand. Thanks for makin’ my day. I…hate that it’s this way between us. I don’t know you as an adult, Georgie. That makes me sadder than anything in the world,” he said gruffly.


Completely at a loss, Georgia mumbled, “See you,” and practically ran out of the restaurant.


Tell’s week started out on a sour note and went downhill from there.


He hadn’t seen Georgia at all on Monday and when he called her, she sounded preoccupied, although she swore she was just tired.


Tuesday night was a wash. She’d invited him to her place after his dart game ended, but the way she’d gone on about how much fun she’d had with the new people she’d met and the old friends she’d reconnected with had brought out a jealous streak and he’d just gone home. Alone.


Wednesday night was Georgia’s girls’ night with Stephanie. And Leah and Roxanne. And a bunch of other women. Evidently she’d had a great time, a fact he’d heard Thursday morning from Ned. And even Dalton.


Weren’t you the one who encouraged her to cut loose? Have fun. Make friends. Get involved?


Yeah. Might make him paranoid, but now that Georgia had found a new crowd, maybe a cooler crowd, was she ditching him?


The niggling doubt was confirmed Thursday night when Tell tracked Georgia down at the Golden Boot—thirty minutes after they were supposed to meet for supper at Fields. He leaned against the wall and watched her as she chatted with the mayor, the superintendent of schools, the owner of the local real estate company, and the lawyer for a methane gas company.