Cory’s resigned disappointment stirred up Kurt’s temper. Stalking across the room, he all but slammed the plate down on the small table, glaring at Leland who had turned from the window. “I’m assuming you’re backing out of going in for therapy again.”
“Don’t start. You know what today is.”
Kurt looked at Cory. “Go get breakfast. The people in the kitchen are preferable to this stubborn coot.”
At least Leland waited until his aide left the room before rounding on Kurt. “You of all people should know how difficult today is,” he snapped.
“Since you never let me forget it, yes. What does that have to do with you going to the clinic for therapy?”
“I’m not in the mood, and I told you I know you weren’t to blame for anything,” he returned with a stubborn set to his jaw.
“That was your excuse last week for skipping therapy, and acknowledging your mistake is a good first step, but it’s not enough, Dad.” Crossing his arms, Kurt glared at him, refusing to back down. “I’m getting tired of pulling your weight around here. There are things you could be doing, and more things you would be capable of if you would put out a little effort.”
“Fuck this God damned ranch!” he burst out, his face mottled with anger as he spun his chair around. “You have no idea what it’s like to lose a child. It rips you up inside, leaves a hole nothing and no one can fill.”
Bitterness roiled in Kurt’s gut and rose in a nauseous ball to clog his throat. If it wasn’t for Leslie, he would go pack and leave for good. All his efforts in running the ranch these past weeks meant nothing to Leland. Saying he wasn’t enough to fill the gap in his life from Brittany’s death hurt. Leland had lost Kurt for eight years, and yet he still refused to work his way back to standing by his side.
“Well, thanks for letting me know where I stand once and for all. Sit there and rot. I’m done with this.” He pivoted and stormed out of the house, never seeing Leland’s shocked face or the sympathetic dismay in Roy, Babs and Leslie’s gazes as he stomped by.
Leslie glanced toward Cory, who sat at the counter. “How could he talk that way to his son?” she questioned after hearing the argument between Kurt and his dad. He dashed out so fast she barely caught the anger tightening Kurt’s jaw that belied the despair swirling in his eyes, but it was enough to make her own heart ache for him. The need to go to him and ease his pain and show him she cared nearly overwhelmed her, forcing her to grip the counter edge to keep from chasing after him.
In that brief moment, when she realized her need to alleviate his pain overrode her desire to protect herself by keeping her distance, she tumbled the last drop into love, losing the war she’d been waging with herself since she’d taken his hand and accepted his help up from the sidewalk two months ago.
“I haven’t been able to figure him out since I started working for him.” Cory swallowed the last bite of cinnamon roll and rose. “I better get back in there and see what I can do.”
“I would go with you, but I’m too pissed right now,” Roy said, slapping his hat back on his head. “Stubborn doesn’t begin to describe that man.”
Babs blinked away the tears swimming in her eyes as Leslie started cleaning up. Twenty minutes later, as she dried her hands and glanced out the window above the sink, she spotted Cory walking back to the house from where he’d left Leland sitting inside the fenced family plot. Shoulders slumped, the older man appeared lost in dejection and her heart went out to him despite her pique over his treatment of Kurt.
“He was just as morose when Kurt lived in Houston,” Babs said as she joined her at the window. “I really thought Leland would perk up once Kurt moved back.”
Remembering the spasms of guilt Leslie had glimpsed crossing Leland’s face that Kurt missed, Leslie harbored doubts as to the reason for his behavior. “Mmmm, I think I’ll go sit with him for a while,” she murmured.
Her first year in Montana, Leslie learned how early winter arrived and how long it lasted. Changing into a sweatshirt, she strolled across the wide lawn, grateful for the sun and lack of wind as the air carried a decided nip. The iron gate to the hilltop plot creaked as she opened it, drawing Leland’s hopeful look around. His face fell when he spotted her before he smoothed out his features.
“I’d rather be alone,” he stated with a dip of his brows.
“No you wouldn’t.” Taking a seat on the quaint garden bench next to his chair, she said baldly, “You’ve just backed yourself into a corner and now don’t know how to get out of it.”
“What are you talking about, girl?” He huffed in annoyance and slid his eyes back to the ornate headstones.
“I’m sorry for your loss, but that’s no excuse to hurt your son.”
And there it was, that quick flash of guilt that stripped the color from his lined face and caused the slump of his shoulders. Only this time, he didn’t try to hide or erase his feelings.
“What I said this morning, it came out wrong and he misunderstood.”
Leslie patted his leg, surprised to feel a firmer quad muscle than she’d expected. Another revelation he needed to account for. Later though. “If you’re worried about losing him, or think you already have, why aren’t you trying harder to get him back?”
Leland shook his head. “How can I ask him to forgive me for the way I lashed out at him after Brittany’s death? Whenever I think about those times before he left, I can’t imagine how I could do such a thing, or why he’d ever forgive me. I told him I no longer held him responsible, hoping that would be enough.”
“Leland, you’ve been blinded by grief for so long, you can’t see what’s right in front of you.” She pushed to her feet. “He came back every year just so you wouldn’t have to spend the holidays alone. Upon hearing about your stroke, he dropped everything to rush to your side and then didn’t hesitate to make immediate arrangements for returning and helping you out. How can you think he wouldn’t let past hurts go in favor of having his father back?”
Pivoting, she made it to the gate before he called back to her. “You’re a good girl, Leslie, and good for my boy.”
“I just wish that was enough to keep me here,” she said, thinking of her own problems.
Halfway across the yard, she hailed one of the hands exiting the large barn and asked him if he knew where she could find Kurt.