Dane started making coffee. “Fire away.” He pulled two mugs from the cabinet.
“I have some ideas on how to save our home.” His father folded his hands on the tabletop. “I screwed everything up, I know it. But I’m going to need your help fixing it.”
Dane rested his head against the kitchen cabinet door and sighed. “This isn’t going to be a five-minute conversation.” He opened the cabinet and pulled out some pain reliever.
“You started making coffee so I figured you weren’t in any hurry.” He pointed at the percolating coffeepot and mugs Dane had put on the counter.
“Fine. But you have to answer a question first.” He waited for his father to nod, then asked, “Did you steal our clover honey recipe from the Hills?”
His father’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched tight.
It was answer enough but he wasn’t about to let his father off that easy. “I don’t want reasons or justifications. I want a yes or no.” Dane poured the coffee and carried both mugs to the table.
“Yes.” His father growled the word. “But—”
“No. The why doesn’t matter. You did it.” Dane didn’t understand his father. Who could do something like this, live and profit off of it, and not own what he’d done?
He didn’t like his father. He certainly didn’t respect him. But saying any of that, out loud, would only perpetuate their screwed-up relationship. Instead, he sipped his coffee. “We’re not the only ones looking at losing our home and business. They’re all in on this honey contest. If they don’t win, they’ll lose everything.” He took another sip. “Honey Hill Farms will be gone. And Texas Viking Honey will, too. That’s on you, Dad.”
His father’s jaw clenched tight. “I’d rather talk about what we can do to save our home.”
“Fair.” Dane rolled his neck and took a deep breath. “If you sell the piece on the other side of the river, what sort of dent does that make?”
“A third of what we need.” His father propped his elbows on the table. “Waterfront property is desirable.”
“I know. It’s why I thought the cabins were a good idea.” He glanced at his father. “I don’t know what you want anymore, Dad. I’m not sure you know. And figuring it out is important, moving forward.” He spun his coffee mug slowly. “I know what I want. This place, my home to be safe. Texas Viking Honey to stay afloat. And...I want to be a partner now. No more secrets or hiding stuff. We need to get back to our roots—focus on honey. Everything else will wait. I’m willing to do what needs to be done to hold on to it. Are you?”
“Of course, I am.” His father stared at him for a long time. “I was thinking...” He cleared his throat. “What if I gave you 51 percent of the business—put you in charge? Let you do whatever it is you want to do?”
“Dad.” Dane frowned. “Are you sure about this? You make those sorts of legal changes, it’s not the sort of thing that can be undone.”
“I am.” He sat back in his chair. “Between selling off the land and the insurance money, we’ve got a start. And I was thinking we could parcel off the hunting cabin, too. It’s on ten acres—away from the bees and the house. If we sell it, we should break even.” He pressed his hands flat on the tabletop.
“That’s what youwant?” Dane pushed.
“Yessir. I want you to take over. I want you and Leif to have this place. I want Texas Viking Honey to go on—better than ever. But I don’t want to manage it.” He tapped one hand on the table. “I’ve got plenty of work to do here at home. I can’t lose you and Leif. You two are the only things that matter. I’m a fool for forgetting that.”
Dane didn’t say a word. His heart wanted to believe every word his father said but, until his father had made a real effort, he’d be wise to keep his guard up.
“Ever since your mother died a part of me has been missing. I kept looking for it in all the wrong places—women, mostly. The last one cost me. Cost all of us. Our divorce settlement wasn’t pretty.”
“And she said some things that could really have damaged Leif on her way out.”
His father shook his head. “She’s gone, the money’s gone and you called me out on it. All of it.” He tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “But you’re right. I don’t want to be some bitter old man who dies alone. I don’t want my sons to hate me. I’ve been hard on you, said some things I’d no right to say. Your mother would be ashamed of me.” His father’s chin crumpled. “But she would be so proud of you.”
Dane swallowed.
“I’ve made a mess of everything, Dane. I know it. I see it. I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try.” His father was staring at him. “Or am I too late?”
“It’ll take time to forge trust, Dad. Especially with Leif. But I don’t think it’s ever too late to try again. At least, I hope not.” Dane smiled at his father, hoping like hell he wouldn’t let them down again. He took a deep breath. “I have some of my 401(k) left—”
“No, no.” His father shook his head. “I want to sell the cabin. It’s the right thing to do.”
He and his father talked for another hour. There was no guarantee it would all work out, but it felt good to know he wasn’t taking this on alone. He was wary, this was his father, but he wasn’t ready to give up on him altogether. His father was a stubborn bear of a man—if he wanted to change, he would.
Leif came in and stared between them, instantly on the defensive. “Who died?”
“No one.” Dane shook his head. “Did you eat? I hope so because Dad cooked and it’s not edible.”
