Page 67

RYE

Monday night,after my parents had finished eating the chicken cacciatore the indomitable Calla Graves had slaved over for hours (we knew because Mama told us), I cleared my throat.

“Mama, Dad, I need to talk to y’all.”

When they weren’t entertaining company, we ate in the kitchen, at the little table I’d grown up eating on.

Mama had filled the house with fine things she loved, but she’d never gotten rid of this kitchenette. It was the heart of our family, and I could still see the crack in the wood my dad had repaired with putty when I’d gotten pissed at Junior for sitting on my favorite hat and crushing it. I’d pushed him so hard he fell against the table. It slammed against the wall, almost taking out our brother Shelby’s arm, and made a hole in the drywall. The table cracked right down the middle and nearly broke in half.

“What would you like to talk about?” Mama asked, straightening her empty plate and silverware in front of her.

I looked my dad in the eye and took a deep breath, all the happy memories of growing up on this ranch swirling like dust devils in my head.

“I quit.”

Those memories had been trying to make me lose my nerve and change my mind, but I knew deep in my bones that the path I’d been laying out for myself was the right one.

“The hell you do!” my dad boomed, and he threw his napkin onto his plate. It soaked up leftover tomato sauce and turned the folded paper towel a dirty red color.

Mama intervened. “What’s this all about, Ryder?” When I looked at her, she nodded. “Maybe if you explain, Daddy will understand it better?”

“Yes, ma’am.” My eyes found my father’s again, and they flashed the same blue as my own when I was mad. “I’ve made an offer on land I’m plannin’ to buy, and I’m gonna start up the regenerative cattle project you want nothin’ to do with.”

My dad stood, pushing his chair out behind him with his legs. It scraped across the floor. “This ranch is called GravesandSons! What the hell you think I’m gonna do without even my youngest workin’ here with me?”

“See, that’s part of the problem right there, Dad. I’m just your youngest. To you, that means least. If Junior and Shelby don’t want anything to do with the ranch, then you’ll take what you can get with me. Ain’t that right?”

“Son—”

Dropping my napkin on the table, I stood too. “No, Dad. Let’s be honest with each other. It’s about time, don’t you think? You don’t want anything to do with my ideas, but I can’t continue in this line of work doin’ the same damn things every other cattle rancher has done for ages. There’s new ways.Betterways. And if I don’t go off on my own and show you, you’ll never understand.

“But I’m done tryin’ tomakeyou understand. I need… I need my own goddamn air. My own land. I need to prove to myself that I’m notjustGrady Graves’s son. It’s time I planted my own roots.”

His enraged stare didn’t convince me he understood at all.

Throwing my hands up in the air, the frustration I’d felt all my life while I’d waited for him to notice me began to break loose from my chest. “I don’t get it! You’re the youngest in your family. The baby just like me. So why all my life have you treated me like I’m nothin’? Like I’m not good enough. Smart enough. Strong enough. All I’ve ever wanted was to honor your legacy.”

“Yeah, I’m younger,” he clipped, and he swung his arm out. It knocked over his empty beer can, which almost fell over the edge of the table, but Mama caught it. “And I had to scrape and climb to make this business and the lifestyle you take for granted.”

“Take it for granted? How have I ever done that?”

He bristled, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about buildin’ somethin’ from the ground up. You’ve had it easy.”

“Easy?” I laughed. “If you think workin’ for you was easy, maybe dementia’s settin’ in. You’re right. This ain’t my business. Ain’t my ranch. You never let me forget it. I didn’t build it. You did. And dammit, I’ve always been proud of you for that, but you’ve never been proud of me for anything. Nothin’ I do is ever good enough. So I’m done. I love you. God knows why some days, but I’m just done.”

I downed the rest of my beer in one long gulp, then crushed the can in my hand. “Oh, and I’m takin’ Presley and Blue with me.”

My dad said nothing, and Mama reached a hand toward me.

“No, Mama. You can’t patch this one up. Thank you both for givin’ me a job all these years. I couldn’t have done this without your generosity, but I’m out. It’s time I go somewhere I’m appreciated.”

“Son,” my dad said again, and I wanted so badly to hear regret in his voice that I actually imagined I had, but it was only a manipulation he thought might make me change my mind. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“I know youthinkyou didn’t mean to run me like every other cowboy who’s ever worked this land, but you did. But that’s all fine. You taught me everything I know about this business, and I’m grateful. You gave me a foundation to build on, and that’s what I plan to do, so with the deepest respect,boss, I quit.”

Mama’s soft voice broke through the rough air between Dad and me. “What are your immediate plans, Ryder?”

“I’m leavin’ in a week. I’m gonna drive up to Oregon, to those farms I’ve been tellin’ you about. There’s a lot I can learn up there. I’ll be back before the drive, and that will be my last contribution to G&S. I’ve already worked it out with Presley. He’ll take over for me until y’all can find a new foreman. He even agreed to move into my cabin temporarily so he can be close when you need him.”