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On the bright side, he could now form sentences. Libby had removed her hand as soon as his dad had approached. For which he was both grateful and miserable. And still tortured. He did feel slightly better though when he turned to see her looking just as tortured as him.
Lowering his voice so only she could hear, he spoke into her ear. “You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.”
“Does that mean you’re ready to go through door number two?” Her tone had turned playful.
“Hell, no. But when you change your mind, I’ll be right here waiting.”
With that, he excused himself from the table. It wasn’t often his dad wanted to talk. Especially in private, so it would be rude to keep him waiting.
As he entered his childhood home, he weaved between his mother’s beloved floral couches and through the old-fashioned, wood-panelled dining room until he reached the back of the house.
Knocking on the door, he tried to think back to when he’d last been inside his father’s study. But, nothing. Had it really been that long?
As he questioned his memory, his father called him inside.
He was greeted by the sight of the large, mahogany desk, which took up most of the room. He couldn’t help but notice the stacks of paper piled high across each surface. Which struck him as odd. His dad was known for being a neat freak. Yet at the moment, his study was anything but tidy.
Following his dad’s cue to sit, he settled into the crimson leather armchair that was positioned opposite the desk.
It took a while for his dad to actually say anything. There was lots of huffing. Some paper movement. And pen clicking. But it was a good few minutes before words echoed around the book lined walls.
“Listen, son,” was what he started with. Zach could tell from just his tone that this was serious. All of a sudden, a feeling of dread started to bubble. “As you know, as my first born, it has always been my intention to leave this ranch to you ... after, well, after I’m gone.”
He skipped straight over the ranch part and read between the lines. “Are you sick? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
The silence felt deafening. His eyes hadn’t left his father, though. Every frown line was noted as he tried desperately to use body language to decipher what was going on.
“Stop staring at me like that, son. Christ. I’m not on my deathbed if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve had a few issues with the old ticker, but nothing for you to worry about. Your mothers on top of it as always. She’s got me eating rabbit food and everything.”
Zach started to relax a little and found himself smiling at the thought of his mother policing his dad’s food. “Okay ... so if you’re not going anywhere, why are we sitting here talking about your will?”
“Well, I’ve decided to retire.”
“Retire?” Talk about a shock. He never thought he’d see the day.
“Yes, Zach. Retire. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. This ranch is your birth right. Your legacy.”
He was just getting his head around the idea of his father retiring, he wasn’t prepared for words like “birth right” and “legacy” to be thrown in his direction. “My what?”
“Your legacy, son. And seeing as I’m retiring, there’s no better time than now to hand over the reins.”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
When Zach simply gaped at him, his father continued.
“No point waiting until I’m six feet under. I want to sign the land and the business over to you now. What do you think?”
What the fuck is going on?
Freaking the hell out, Zach jumped out of his seat and began to pace the small space. “What are you talking about, Dad? In case you’ve forgotten, I have a job. A good one. One that I love. Wade, Jonah, and Matt are the ones working the ranch. Not me. It should go to them. Give it to them.”
His father’s chair scraped back as he too rose, bringing Zach’s pacing to a halt.
As he took the sight of his dad in, it hit him. His dad looked older. Tired. Fragile. His skin no longer looked tanned, but weathered, and the grey streaks that once highlighted his dark blonde hair had now taken over altogether. When had that happened?
“You’re right. Your brothers are the ones working here. And they’re doing a damn fine job. But you’re the oldest, Zach. And it’s time for you to step up. The ranch needs you.”
He was sure he was missing something. There had to be more to this. This decision didn’t make any sense. “And why exactly does it need me?”
