Page 5 of Roots of Redemption (Hicks Creek #4)

Chapter Three

Sutton

Ten years later

“ S utton, it’s Dad. I…I need your help.”

I listened to those words twenty times since I saw that he left me a voicemail twenty minutes ago.

“He’ll come around, babygirl. He will,” Mama had said on repeat when I came home that first Christmas at college.

My father had taken one look at me and said, “Did you fail college already? I knew you wouldn’t last. You don’t belong anywhere but this ranch.”

He, in fact, disowned me as I was leaving that time. He told me that I was a selfish, spoiled brat and that I was dead to him.

He stormed out of the house, and I gathered my things and left. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. If I came home to see my mother, I stayed with Dez or at a hotel.

“He misses you. I almost got him to come with me today, but you know how he feels about these fancy hotels,” Mama said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Mama, you don’t have to sugar coat any of this,” I sighed. “You said the same thing when I graduated with my bachelor’s and again when I graduated as a doctor. Stop making excuses for his bad behavior.”

She let out a long sigh, shaking her head as she did. “He doesn’t know any better, Sutton. It’s how he was raised.”

“And at some point, he should have realized that what he’s doing isn’t working. He’d rather be a stubborn old mule full of ego than repair his relationship with his daughter. But he doesn’t.”

“Well, he thought you were going to come home and—”

“Why would I come home when the man hasn’t spoken more than a sentence to me since I was eighteen years old? I’ve given up hope on ever having a relationship with him, Mama. I don’t need you to pretend.”

“All these awards you’ve been getting,” Mama said, her face glowing with pride. “You sure are something else. Award for excellence in bovine research, in preventative medicine, researcher of the year. Your daddy—”

I put my hand up in the air to stop her. “Please don’t taint my awards by saying his name.”

Mama’s face fell, and I could see how much of a toll all of this had taken on her, even though she’d never admit it. Just like she always did, she’d explain that I just didn’t know Daddy like she did, and if I did, I’d understand it all better.

I would never understand how a man could turn his back on his only child because she was accepted to college.

I stared down at the phone, our old landline number like a neon sign on the screen. Tears pricked at my eyes.

Five years ago, I returned to Hicks Creek for Mama’s funeral.

She’d always been the buffer between us, and I was on edge about how I thought it would go.

I walked into that house and saw my daddy sitting in his old La-Z-Boy recliner, his jean overalls on and an old Georgia Bulldogs hat on his head.

He was staring off into space. I was there a full two minutes before I cleared my throat, and he finally looked up to notice me.

“You broke her heart when you left and didn’t come back. This is your fault.”

Those words will forever echo in my head. I had already felt guilty for not being there, for not picking up the phone the last time she called. The venom in his accusation was too much to bear, and I turned around and walked right back out.

Most people would give him a little grace and think that he’s a grieving man who lost the love of his life. Others would point out that he’s a cowboy through and through and he doesn’t know how to handle any sort of emotions.

Me? I call bullshit on all of that. He’s a man whose never been held accountable for his shit behavior his entire life.

He was raised that way, yes, but my mama and everyone around him always made up excuses and enabled that behavior.

No one, not even me, stood up to him and told him that he was an asshole.

What kind of man blames his only daughter for her mother dying?

Mom and I would FaceTime every day, numerous times a day. She came out to visit me regularly without my father’s knowledge.

You can imagine my surprise when I got a voicemail from that same man telling me that he needed my help.

Is he dying? Did the devil finally come for him, and now he’s trying to make amends?

My phone begins ringing in the middle of my thoughts.

“Hey, Kels,” I say into the phone.

“Ughhhhh,” she groans before giggling. “What a freaking week this has been.”

I laugh. “Same here. What’s happening on your end?”

“Full moon. What else?” she teases. “But also, there’s been an outbreak with at least three cattle farms in the area, and it’s spreading rapidly while also having owners losing their shit on me.”

“Oh no, do you know what it is?”

“I’m not positive. I’ve tested for a lot of different things, but nothing is coming back conclusive. They’re all using the same feed, though, and that’s where I’m leaning.”

“You can send some samples to me if you want.”

“I’m already labeling it as we speak,” she giggles, something she does a lot when she’s overly stressed.

“It’s the real reason why I was calling.

Not everyone can say their college roommate and friend has a Zoetis Award for Veterinary Research Excellence, and I need your expertise, you know?

Also, not many other people understand what it’s like to have these crotchety old farmers screaming at them. ”

“I lived that my entire life,” I joke.

“I remember the stories,” she laughs. “How’s it going in Billings?”

“Not as exciting. I did just get a voicemail from my father telling me that he needs me.”

“What the fuck?” she gasps.

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Did you call him back?”

“No, I was listening to the voicemail on repeat, trying to figure out what to do next.”

“You should call him.”

“I haven’t talked to him in five years, and before that was five years.”

“You’re due then,” she says lightly. “And I understand that. I do, but…maybe it’s time.”

“Kels,” I start.

“No, you know that I had a similar relationship with my sister, and then…she died in a freak car accident, and I regret our silly little tiff every single day of my life. I understand why you’re upset with your dad and that there’s nothing silly about how he’s treated you.

It’s downright wrong. Your feelings are beyond valid, but…

maybe you should call him back and see what he needs.

You didn’t answer your mama’s call, and that still bothers you, Sutty. ”

I let out a long groan.

Kelsey sounds like Mama. She would tell me to do the same thing. She was always asking me to extend the olive branch to him, but the one time I did at her funeral, he lit that bitch on fire.

“I’m not saying that you need to help him, but it’s not going to hurt to just call and see what he needs,” she continues.

I groan again.

“Are you still there, or has some grumpy child taken over the phone call?” she teases.

“Fine. I’ll do it right now before I talk myself out of it. Be prepared for a ranting phone call.”

“I’m proud of you!” she calls out before I hang up.

I let out another groan and take a few minutes to gather the courage I need to hit the call button on the voicemail.

The last thing I want to do is speak to my father in any capacity. He’s not a nice man, and I only have one memory of him ever telling me he was proud of me, and it was when I was five and lassoed a horse that got out. I don’t know if he’s ever told me he loves me.

My heart squeezes, and I feel that all-too-familiar anxiety gripping my chest. What could he possibly want after all these years? My daddy ain’t never needed anyone in his life, so hearing him say that over a voicemail has me terrified of what he’ll tell me when I call him back.

I take a deep breath, blow it out, and then push the call button.

Please don’t let me regret this. Please don’t let me regret this.

My dad picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s…Sutton.”

He’s quiet on the other end of the line for a full minute.

I pull the phone away from my face and look to make sure that the call didn’t get disconnected.

Then I hear him clear his throat. His voice is gruff, grittier than I remember.

I can almost picture him standing in the kitchen and using that old beige phone that was attached to the wall.

“I need your help,” he growls without so much as a greeting.

His phone skills still need work, I see.

“Okay.”

“The cattle are dying. They’re dropping like flies, and I…

I don’t know what’s happening. I can’t…Doc Lucy is doing everything she can, but nothing’s working.

I’m going to go broke trying to fix it or lose the ranch.

It’s not just me, though; it’s…it’s the whole damn town.

Every ranch owner is having the same issue. ”

“I work in a research lab. I don’t work in the field.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he hisses. “You’re the best in the country with infectious diseases, Sutton. I need you to come home and help me figure this out.”

Did I hear him correctly?

His words roll through my brain, and I’m surprised by them. I am the best in the country with bovine infectious diseases and have the awards to prove it. If he knows that, does that mean that he’s been following my career?

My father just complimented me for the first time in my life and asked for my help. I’m stunned into silence momentarily as I try to figure out what’s happening.

My father has been kidnapped by a pod person. That’s the only explanation.

“Dad,” I start softly, my voice filled with emotion that I don’t want him to hear.

“Cowgirls don’t cry, Sutton. Sooner you learn that, the better you will be,” he had growled at me the first time I fell out of a tree and broke my arm. “You want to work this ranch, be successful, then you got to close off those emotions or you’ll never survive out here.”

I mull over my words carefully, not really knowing how to continue the conversation. I’m in total shock by everything that’s happening.

“Sutton, you left this family, and…you turned your back on us. Don’t do it again.”

And there it is.