Page 22 of Let Me Be the One
“I snuck and visited Reggie a few times. When I graduated high school, he sent me a gift card to a fast food restaurant.” The memory had her grinning. “I met him there and we had lunch together using the gift card. Same when I graduated college. I told him he shouldn’t spend his money on me, but he said he’d ‘scored big’ and planned to use it all on gift cards as an excuse to visit me.”
“Reggie was feast or famine, but his idea of scoring big could have been a hundred bucks or five thousand. He didn’t value money the same way other people do.” And that included Tanner. He’d been poor, hungry, and dirty, and he knew the importance of every dime.
“He continued to send gift cards, but…then my life got busy. I called him a few times, and we talked about getting together.” Her voice lowered. “We never quite got around to it.”
“Hey, life happens.”
With a shake of her head, she softly admitted, “I didn’t even see my parents that often. Honestly, I didn’t think about Reggie. How awful is that?”
“I’m sure Reggie understood.”
“No, you said he was sick. He should have had some family around him. Even if it was only a weekly visit, I should have made the time.”
Tanner didn’t want her starting her day with guilt, so he might as well give her some truths. “The last few years, Reggie drank a lot. His liver was completely shot. The doctors told him if he didn’t stop drinking he’d die, and still he drank. Couple of times there it got so bad he’d spend a week in the ICU.”
Stricken, Callie stared at him. “I didn’t know that.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered. He’d get out of the hospital, last a few days, sometimes even a few weeks, then he’d get back to it. The man had a bad drinking problem and there’s not much you could have done for him. Believe me, Addie tried. We all did.”
New concern darkened Callie’s eyes. “That had to be especially hard for you.”
“Because of my dad? You’d think so, right? But Reggie was an all-around nice guy and a funny drunk. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. The worst he did was fall asleep with the chickens.” Remembering the day he’d found him there, passed out near the coop, Tanner shook his head. “Drunk or sober, he was generous and a good neighbor. But toward the end there, his liver just stopped working.” Reggie had been a mess, suffering and sorry, and he’d given up.
In a way, Tanner was glad Callie hadn’t witnessed him like that. “I’m sure your uncle wanted you to hold on to the better memories of him.”
Unconvinced, she rubbed her forehead. “I still feel terrible about it, especially since I didn’t even know he’d died until Dad told me after he was notified that Reggie named me in his will. He left me his house, a small bit of cash, and everything on his property.”
“I don’t expect it’ll be much. He has an old Buick that runs but is a little noisy. If you decide to sell it, I know a kid who could really use a reliable car.” He moved right on from that before she could ask for specifics. He didn’t want her to draw a parallel to his own miserable childhood pre-Addie. “Reggie’s tractor is in decent shape.”
Without much inflection, she asked, “Tractor?”
“To cut the land that’s cleared. You could use a riding mower, but it’d take a lot longer. Reggie used the tractor for his garden, too.”
“Garden?”
Tanner bit back a smug smile. Those one-word questions showed a lot of uncertainty. He’d give her a week, tops, and she’d be throwing in the towel. “Lots of hauling to do on acreage. There’s always a downed tree or two after every storm. We have storms in the forecast right now, you know. Tornadoes sometimes in the spring. If a tree limb hits your house, you’ll have shingle repairs—maybe roof repairs. We once had a big tree branch take out a window. Other chores are cleanup for the animals, clearing out the bugs all spring and summer, and you have to watch for critters. Raccoons especially. They’re hateful.”
After all that, Callie appeared shell-shocked, but she merely sipped her coffee, likely giving herself a second to absorb everything he’d thrown at her.
His conscience was nudging him at that point, eventhough running her off would be easier on them both in the long run. He wanted to distract her, maybe get her focus back on him, which might explain why he said, “I heard you in the woods.”
“Yesterday, you mean?”
Nodding, he clarified, “While you were talking to your cousin about breaking things off with some asshole named Sutter.”
Appalled, she slumped back in her seat. She wasn’t overwhelmed now. Nope. She looked embarrassed and annoyed, but only for a moment.
Thenshe smiled, and damn, it looked mean.
He rubbed a hand over his whiskers, heard the rasp, and wondered if he should excuse himself to shower and shave. He even glanced at the doorway.
Callie asked, “Am I holding you up?”
Had she read his mind? If so, it perversely made him determined to stay. No way would he be the first to retreat. “How could you, when I came to the kitchen for coffee?”
“Not for coffeewith me, though.” She cradled the mug between her hands as she eyed him. “You can run along, you know. I don’t mind.”
“I can do any damn thing I want. I live here,” he reminded her. She was the interloper—an interloper he’d confided in for some damned reason. Now there was an excuse he could dig into. “I told you about me. Turnabout seems fair, so what’s with this Sutter jerk?”
