Ignoring his protests, Calla got her hands underneath his armpits and lifted him up. Until he started shouting in her ear, “Don’t need no help getting to my damn feet!”
He pushed her away even though he was collapsing back to the mud by doing so.
Calla finally pulled back, heartbroken as her father glared her down. “Get on,” he waved a hand toward the barn that was still half a field away. “Animals won’t feed themselves.”
He didn’t really mean for her to just leave him there, did he? “They can wait a few more minutes.” She reached for him again. “Just let me help you—
“Dammit girl, am I not speaking English?” He jerked his tremoring arm away from her. “Get on your damn way.”
“Daddy, just—”
“GET!”
Calla turned away and jogged toward the barn, tears stinging her eyes.
“Calla. Calla, it’s just a bad dream. Shh, you’re here with me, baby.”
Calla blinked and startled awake.
There was a warm body at her back. Arms around her. Holding her.
“Liam,” she managed, swallowing and swiping at the tears running down her cheeks.
“Shh, gal, I’ve got ya.” Liam rolled her so that her face came against his chest. Calla hid her face from him. Dammit. She hated crying.
The dream had felt so real. Probably because it wasn’t just a dream. It was a memory.
Dad never would listen to reality when it came to the ranch’s finances. He’d gotten more and more distant every time she’d tried to talk to him. She didn’t know if that was because he just didn’t know what to do about the debt or if it was because of the Huntington’s.
Getting less communicative was one of the symptoms. Memory loss, too. It about broke her heart when her dad would repeat something he’d said just a few minutes earlier. Even when she did manage to get him talking, it was like he wasn’t tracking the conversation in real time. He’d respond to something she’d said five or ten minutes before as if she’d just said it.
Heart. Breaking. Like a machine had come in and bulldozed little sections, one chamber at a time. She’d left little pieces of her heart all over that ranch.
One piece with Prissy. Another chunk lost the day she had to drive her dad to the nursing home. More when he refused to speak to her the whole way except to point a tremoring finger at her. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
Another tear crested and fell down her cheek. She swiped at it angrily.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Liam asked.
“Nothing.” She gave what was probably a weak smile and tried to pull away from Liam. He didn’t let her go.
“It’s not nothing. Talk to me. I know I’m usually just a pompous asshole, but I swear I can listen.”
Calla balked. “I’ve never thought of you as a pompous asshole.”
One half of Liam’s mouth quirked up. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”
His words made Calla’s chest warm. She still pulled away and Liam let her. She swallowed and looked at the ceiling the moment her back was to him. How much more of her heart had she lost last night? How long before there was nothing left of her to lose?
“Calla?”
She felt Liam sit up behind her. She tried to shake off the dream. She’d just spent the night with Liam O’Neill. Her. Calla Carter. She’d woken up in his arms. And last night, with Liam… and Mack. Where had he gone when he tore out of there like a bat outta hell? Would it be awkward the next time she saw him?
Pretty sure, yeah, it would be. He had his cock inside you. She didn’t know how you just smiled and pretended that never happened.
“I’m not sure how to do this morning after thing,” she murmured. She’d been serious but Liam laughed, his arms coming around her waist. He dropped a kiss to the top of her spine in between her shoulder blades and she shivered.
“What time is it?” she asked. She looked back at Liam and he leaned over to grab his phone off the nightstand.