Page 50 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)

I glanced at Gertrude one last time before I rang the bell. She gifted me with a bright, confident smile and squeezed my hand in reassurance. My heart clenched and my stomach flipped dramatically as I realized it was too late to leave.

There was the sound of the chain being unlatched, then the brown wooden door swung open and I was staring at my father.

His mop of dark hair was lined with white streaks.

His gray eyes widened in shock before he smiled, lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes.

He looked between me and Gertrude over and over like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Tate, son, what are you doing here?” he asked.

Son.

I remembered the last time I saw him; he was walking away from me and getting into his car.

My mother was screaming abuse in the background, and I kept running after him, begging for him to take me too.

My hands latched around his waist as I peered up at him.

I was fourteen and my growth spurt hadn’t kicked in yet.

I was just a young boy desperate for love.

Now we were the same height, now I stared directly at him. All the memories that I had choked down years ago began to rise to the surface in a tidal wave of emotion, crashing into me. A strangled sound fled my throat.

Gertrude’s hand gripped mine so tightly my bones cracked, but I didn’t care.

I needed the reminder that she was here, she was the only reason I could do this.

If I didn’t have her by my side, tempting me with the life I could lead if I worked for it, if I earned her, I never would have gotten to this point. I owed her more than I could say.

“Extreme exposure therapy,” I gasped, trying to hold back the emotion.

He didn’t react to my words, instead he stepped to one side. “Please, come in.”

My eyes flicked behind him, over the threshold and I saw a nice, tidy home. Family pictures lined the wall, pictures that didn’t include me or my mom, and bitterness twisted my gut.

Suddenly, I didn’t remember that sad, lonely boy looking for love. I remembered the anger and hurt that had driven me for years afterwards. The torture I’d been putting myself through trying to achieve perfection so one day he would come back.

Planning my mother’s funeral all alone. Going through life all alone, thinking that’s what was best.

I could feel my emotion turning into white, hot rage but before it spilled out, Gertrude stroked my arm.

“We’d love to,” she answered, pushing past him, knocking him back because for some reason this damn woman couldn’t just move around someone.

She tugged me with her, like she knew exactly where my thoughts were heading and that I needed to be dragged inside before I raged and set back my recovery even further.

Or hell, didn’t recover at all.

How I’d gotten the courage to come here today, I’ll never know, but it definitely had something to do with the tiny, powerful woman I was smitten with. She’d shown me over and over again what it took to be strong.

My father closed the door and then gestured for us to follow him into the kitchen.

The dark, cherrywood cabinets were offset by white marble style counter tops littered with cookbooks, a state-of-the-art coffee machine, air fryer and wooden chopping boards.

A large circular wooden dining table and four chairs sat in the middle with a powder blue tablecloth covering the top.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, turning to us, his eyes darting over me quickly. “Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?”

“Gin?” Gertrude offered.

My father laughed, the sound deep and rumbling, and similar to mine when I ventured to do it. Which I’d only done more now I was around Gertrude.

“Water?” I rasped, my throat dry.

I watched my father go through the mechanics of fetching a glass and filling it from the faucet, droplets running down the sides, pooling at the base and marring the table.

He didn’t notice, continuing to chatter away to Gertrude who kept shooting me comforting looks.

But my impulses screamed to wipe it and make it perfect and clean, then everything would be okay and that’s when it hit me, and my words tumbled out.

“You ruined everything.”

My words broke through the stilted conversation, and a hush descended the room. My eyes swung to his and a thousand apologies screamed at me, but I hardened my heart. I had shit to get off my chest.

“For years I worked tirelessly to be as perfect as possible, shedding my own weaknesses because I couldn’t comprehend why you would leave us.

That way, if I could show you how perfect I was, you would come back and love us again.

Except you didn’t. I drove myself to madness perfecting myself.

” I jerked up from the chair to pace, my fingers continually clicking, creating a beat, an even beat that soothed me as much as it irked me.

“Mama blamed me. Said it was all my fault. God, I drove myself to ruin running over every interaction in my mind and wondering how I could have been better.”

“Tate,” he began but my sharp stare cut him off.

“I wanted to gain your love so badly but where were you? You didn’t even want to know me. Your own son. Your only son or so I’d thought,” I chuckled darkly.

He hung his head. “Please, let me explain?”

“If I’d been better, would he love me? If I’d been smarter?

If I’d been more helpful? After Mama killed herself, I shut myself off from anyone ever again.

I grew even more controlling and particular.

I stifled my emotions and cut off anyone who could get close to me.

” I looked at Gertrude, her eyes shining at me, her damn bottom lip wobbling and it shattered me.

“I lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“But you know what she taught me.” I pointed at Gertrude.

“It wasn’t me. I wasn’t unlovable. My imperfections were perfect, they were the reason she cared for me.

I realized the problem was you. And fuck that was so freeing.

Finally, I felt free and full of life. Except here we are, I still can’t move on, can’t heal or grow.

I need to, because I can’t continue like this now I’ve found something worth living for.

And I sure as hell won’t put my trauma on my child.

So here I am, hoping like hell something will come from this so my life can finally begin. ”

My chest heaved with my words and emotion, and yet the weight lifted from my shoulders.

He hadn’t said a word and I already felt a million times better than before I walked in here.

I felt like I’d gotten it off my chest. My clicking fingers stopped, they still itched and twitched to move but I felt like it was more from habit than impulse.

My father stood up, his expression world weary and exhausted. He reached out to me then dropped his hand, shaking his head.

“I have no words to make you feel better. I can only offer an explanation which is that I simply fell in love. Wouldn’t you do anything for love?”

I scoffed and then my eyes met Gertrude’s. I probably would. Except abandon my child.

“I was a weak man. I was too young and didn’t know how to cope with an unwell wife.

It’s my only excuse; it’s just the way I felt.

I didn’t know what to do with her, I was drowning in her depression and toxicity.

Then I met another woman, someone who understood and we fell in love.

We were only together one time but it was enough, she became pregnant.

I was devastated at first. But what did I do?

I couldn’t abandon her the same way I couldn’t abandon you. ”

“But you did!” I shouted, all of us jolting.

His eyes pleaded with me. “I know. And I have no excuse for it. I was young and na?ve and thought everything would work out. I figured space between me and your mom would help. I tried to come back and see you but she made me promise…”

A shiver trekked my spine. “Made you promise what?”

He looked away, not wanting to reveal his secrets but then I think he just decided enough was enough, we’d all been hurting too long.

“She threatened to take you and move away, to get sole custody. I’d had an affair, had another child on the way. I was scared that those things would be used against me and I’d lose you. Like I said, I was young and na?ve, I didn’t know if that was true and I was too scared to find out.”

I shook my head, covering my mouth. “No. She wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Tate, she did.” He reached for me again, palms out in surrender and gently touched my arm.

“I was exhausted. Now I look back and see all the things I could have done better but I felt beaten down. She wasn’t like that when I first met her, but over the years she changed, and it was too late for me.

She threatened to hurt herself if I stayed out too long, or if I looked at another woman.

I didn’t understand why and didn’t try to get her the help she needed.

But something about our separation broke her and I could see it in her eyes.

” His other hand came up to grip my arm until he was facing me, holding me tight.

“I was terrified of what she would do and I couldn’t be the reason you lost your mother.

So I promised her I would stay away, that she could have you all to herself.

And when you were older, I would come back to you.

I only had to wait another year or two. It was agony but I did it, only then… ” he trailed off.

“I didn’t want to see you,” I finished, remembering the day he turned up.

The way I screamed at him that I never wanted to see him again.

A tear trickled down my cheek now at the memory and he blurred before me.

He continued talking but my mind drifted away to all the times Mama had threatened to hurt herself, until one day it wasn’t a threat anymore.

“What happened, you said she…” He couldn’t finish his words but I nodded, then he collapsed into me.

“She did it. She always said she would, and she did. When I left for university.” My words were muffled against his sweater.

“I’m sorry Tate, I’m so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. I really thought I was, I swear,” he pleaded.

My throat had a boulder lodged in it and I couldn’t speak anymore, just nodded as we gripped each other tight. We hugged for a long time, for the years we’d missed. There was silence and then it was broken.

“Dad?”

I glanced up and my half-brother, Jake, was peering at us from the kitchen doorway, rubbing his eyes. I looked at his face, so similar to mine. How I’d resented him when he’d never done anything wrong. I’d kept us apart. Kept away my family.

Breaking away from my father, I went to Jake. His eyes widened and he started to speak but I cut him off and tugged him to me, gripping him tight in a fierce embrace. I felt him shake against me, then my dad’s arms enveloped us both.

I’m not sure who kept saying I’m sorry but eventually our sorrys all blended into one.

Then Gertrude was ushering us to the table and making hot cocoa while we just stared at each other in silence, wiping our tears.

Once Gertrude placed the cocoa in front of me, she went to take a seat, but I gripped her hip and pulled her to me.

I needed her close. I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.

However, when she wound her arm around my shoulders and leaned into me, peace flooded me.

My father broke the silence. “I want to be a family again, if you’ll let me. I gave you space, not wanting to push you and only praying that one day you would turn up at my door. I stopped praying when my Katie passed away.”

Jake sniffled at that, and Dad squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

Shame rushed me when I realized what they’d been through and who Katie was.

He’d lost both his wives and the mothers of his children.

And Jake had lost his mom too. I’d been holding onto all my rage and resentment when they were going through something traumatic that I could have supported them through.

I shook my head. “No more. I can’t do this anymore.”

My dad looked away, nodding and biting his lip. “I understand. We’ll leave you alone, won’t bother you again, if that’s what you want.”

I realized he thought I didn’t want to see them again. That I hadn’t forgiven him. I don’t think I had yet, but I was willing to work on it.

“No, I mean, I can’t do this separation anymore. I want the same, to be a family again.”

My dad’s head shot up and a slow smile split Jake’s lips.

“You mean it?” he asked, his eyes eager.

“I think it might take some time, but yeah,” I glanced up at Gertrude, my rock, my love and I knew I could do anything with her by my side, even if she was my friend and not my lover. “I want to do this.”

“Well shit,” my dad choked out and burst into tears again.

“Oh God, I can’t cope anymore,” Gertrude cried and nudged herself between him and Jake and wrapped her arms around them. I laughed, loving her big heart and need to comfort someone in distress. It was a beautiful trait and I was glad my girl had it in spades.

We made plans to take it slow, we didn’t want to rush and push each other for too much too soon. A coffee date, simple, easy and not too intimidating.

Then Gertrude and I were leaving, getting in my car. I looked over at her as she clicked her seatbelt into place, and I couldn’t go another second without telling her again how I felt.