Free Donovan by Vanessa Stone

personality?" Donovan asked.
"I haven't noticed anything."
    I merely
lifted an eyebrow at him. "Donovan, you haven't seen your mom in what,
almost ten years? Are you telling me you don't think she's any different?"
    He
frowned. "We'll of course she's older, she looks older, and right now,
she's under a great deal of stress what with Dad’s passing. But I haven't
noticed anything—"
    "Well
I have, and I can assure you that everyone else in your family has as well. At
any rate, Frank didn't want your mom worrying, so he swore me to silence."
    "How
long has this been going on?"
    "By
the time I took over the books, probably a year or so before that."
    "But
how—"
    "A
bad crop year here, low yields on beef prices the next, needed repairs on
equipment, new equipment purchases, repairs to the barn, repairs to the
irrigation system, you name it. Donovan, the ranch has been bleeding money for
years."
    "Why didn't
anyone tell me?"  
    "Why? How?" I demanded, striving to keep my voice down.
"Donovan, you walked away eight years ago. You made it clear that you
didn't want to have anything to do with the ranch, running the ranch, or
anything else associated with the ranch. What did you expect anyone to
do?" I shook my head, my ire growing. I took a sip of beer to calm my
emotions. "Frank always thought that the next year would be better, but
there was always something else that needed fixing, feed prices were up, bad
weather… you know how life is for ranchers and farmers out here.” I paused,
turning my mug around in front of me. “At first, he was able to keep up all
right… robbing Peter to pay Paul, that kind of thing. He’d take the money for
hay and put it toward repairs, or take money he’d tucked away for a new tractor
and put it toward grain, seeds for the new crops, or repairs. Still, the debt
just grew to the point that neither he, nor I, to be completely honest, thought
it could ever be repaid."
    Donovan
sat silent, took a sip of beer as he gazed out the window. "I wish I had
known," he said simply.
    "And
then what? You would've rushed back to fix everything?" I asked.
"That's not how it works and you know it. Your dad would've been the last
one to accept charity from anyone, especially you. Even if—" I didn't even
want to get into it. I had started to say even if he had come back or had known
about the problems. He and his dad had been estranged for years, and I knew
Frank well enough to know that he never would've taken a dime from Donovan. No
sense in rubbing Donovan's nose in it though.
    "I
could've helped," he sighed.
    "Be
that as it may," I said, taking another sip of beer. "Frank still
wouldn't have accepted it from you."
    Donovan
said nothing for several moments, but merely continued to sip this beer,
staring out the window, a frown of concentration furrowing his brow. "What
are you thinking?" I asked, while at the same time wondering why I even
cared.
    "Honest?"
    "That
would be nice," I remarked.
    "I
regret leaving the way I did. I regret not making an effort to smooth things
over with Dad. Now, it's too fucking late. I can’t fucking turn back time."
    I said
nothing, realizing that his regret was genuine. Donovan would never have a
chance to make amends, to reunite with his dad and enjoy a future with him. I
did feel some empathy for him over that, but at the same time was not yet ready
to forgive him completely for just turning his back on everything, and
everyone, that he had left behind.
    "I
also regret leaving you like I did," he said.
    He looked
at me, his expression serious, his eyes riveted to mine. "I've been a fucking
fool. It's as simple as that. I've thrown away some of the best things, the
best people, that I've ever had in my life. There's no coming back from
that."
    I felt a
surge of emotion and swallowed hard. I blinked back the warm tears that flooded
my eyes. He could have no idea the impact his words had on me at that moment.
Perhaps I was just feeling vulnerable. Perhaps it was the beer,