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Grandfather would love an excuse to cut me off and send me packing.
It’s mortifying how badly that scares me.
I’ve never lived on my own. I don’t know how to wash a dish much less how to get a real job that isn’t at my family’s horse farm. Passing that vet tech course was the highlight of my life and it really was as brainlessly easy as possible.
The idea of living on my own makes me tremble worse than the thought of marrying a stranger.
“I’ll do my best, Grandfather,” I say and stand.
“Step up, Katherine. Do right by the family. Try to fix some of the damage your mother has done over the years.”
“Yes, Grandfather. I won’t let you down.” The words taste like vomit in my mouth as I spew them out.
He nods and waves a hand in dismissal. I turn and hurry out of the room and pause in the hallway, my heart racing, sweat beading under my arms. I feel sticky and gross and used, like Grandfather just held me under a microscope, pinned my arms and legs back like a butterfly, and used me for some sick science experiment. I’m nothing more than meat to him, a sack of walking and talking flesh that can be bought and sold at a whim, and I’m letting him get away with it.
I hate myself for being so passive and eager to please, and I hate him for taking advantage of it over and over again.
But I will do my duty. I’ve always done my duty, despite being asked to be twice as good as everyone else in my family, all because I have an unknown father and a junkie mother. Everyone’s always waiting for me to screw up somehow, and I’ve gotten to the point where I’m waiting too.
Maybe for once I can make my grandfather proud.
Except I doubt that’s possible.
Chapter 3
Ford
Grandpop walks with a pronounced limp and leans heavily on a walking stick. He’s in his mid-eighties and still does a three-mile hike through the Texas wilderness every morning, rain or shine, heat or freezing, though it’s mostly just heat. He pauses at the top of a rise, and we watch the sun spill up over the hills. I have to admit it’s a beautiful sight: gold grass waves in the morning breeze as red and orange light glimmers through the sky.
“I don’t know how many more of these I have left, Ford,” Grandpop says without looking at me.
I’m not sure how to answer so I say nothing. Better to let him enjoy than to ruin it, but I can tell Grandpop’s mind is elsewhere. He’s been quiet for the last few days, which isn’t like him. My cousins have been all over his ass, asking what’s the matter, doting on him like children, like he’s an invalid or something, and I can tell it’s been pissing him off. I kept my distance and waited, and now I’m rewarded with this.
A hike at the ass-crack of fucking dawn.
But I know it’s important or else he never would’ve brought me. Grandpop likes his hikes solo unless there’s something big on his mind.
“Come on,” he grunts and gets moving again, picking up the pace as we descend the hill and curve along a path that skirts a shallow valley. “I’ve been thinking about your father a lot, Ford. How long’s he been gone now?”
“Ten years,” I say and look at the scrub brush, remembering my father’s twisted and broken body lying at the bottom of the steps.
“Ten years. Feels like yesterday my boy was still with me.” Grandpop laughs bitterly. “Time moves fast when you get to be my age.”
“Why are you thinking about him?”
“I thought your father would succeed me one day. That was the plan for a very long time.”
My eyebrows raise. “That’s news to me,” I say, and I’m practically buzzing with excitement. Grandpop never,everdiscusses succession, not even when asked directly, and this is the first time he’s even mentioned the possibility. I didn’t know my father was the first one in line and I doubt anyone else did, including my old man. Otherwise, he might’ve gotten his shit together, forced himself to get sober, and he might still be here today.
“Don’t be so surprised. Your father was the only one that truly gave a shit about Mack’s Barbecue. The rest of my useless kids thinks it’s beneath them to run a restaurant chain, but they don’t understand the value of hard work. They only see our family name and think that should be enough.” Grandpop spits and shakes his head. He’s a rugged old bastard, a gritty, hardscrabblesort of Texan that thinks he’s still a cowboy even though he spends most of his life in luxury and hasn’t ridden a horse in twenty years at least.
“I’m mostly surprised you’re bringing it up at all. We’ve all noticed that you don’t like discussing about your successor.”
Grandpop snorts. “Would you like talking about that? Do you want to talk about how you’re gonna be put out to pasture one day?”
“No, but it’s sensible to have a plan.”
“I have a plan.” His jaw works for a moment and his pace slows. “I’ve done a lot in my day, Ford. I started Mack’s when the family was at its lowest and I saved all our asses by creating an empire. I’ve won bets, married beautiful women, had a big family, traveled the world. I killed a bull in Spain and kissed a girl on the Eiffel tower. I’ve done everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m still restless.”
