Her dad sank to a crouch beside her, running his hands down her arms. “What’s hurt, baby?”
My heart.“Nothing.”I’m bleeding out.“I’m fine, Dad.”
“You’re sitting on the ground, your skin’s the color of chalk dust and corral slop is soaking into your jeans. And from thesounds of it, your horse is protesting being left in the trailer.” He reached out and gently removed her hat. “Talk to me, Mac.”
The use of her nickname made her throat tighten. It was the name Michael had bestowed on her when he’d found out their mom had dared deliver him a sister instead of the brother he’d requested. Michael had refused to call her “a girl name,” and Mac had stuck.
“I’ll get your mother.” Her father made to stand.
“No,” she all but shouted as she reached out and grabbed his arm. A single tug pulled him off balance and down he went, landing with a squelching sound on the ground beside her. “Please.”
The look of surprise on the infamous Malone’s face eased the tension in her, but not as much as his comment did. “You’re going to be the one to tell your mother later why I had to go—what’s it called when you don’t wear underwear beneath your britches? Commandeering? Soldiering?” His face brightened. “Going mercenary!”
She laughed as heat infused her cheeks. “You have to stop with the modern slang, Dad. It’s called going commando, and no, I don’t want to tell her why you’re going to shuck your underwear in the barn.”
He reached over and yanked on a piece of her hair. “You just landed me on my ass in the muck, kiddo. It’s soaked through my Wranglers and my unmentionables are now soggy. I’m ditching ’em as soon as I can. I think there’s a pair of clean coveralls in the barn I can pull on.”
She plugged her fingers into her ears and began to chant, “La, la, la, la.” Then she met his amused gaze. “I’m not pulling my fingers out of my ears until your lips stop moving.”
He grinned.
She dropped her hands. “I’m ruined. You realize that, right? No daughter needs to know these things. As far as I’m concerned, you and Mom are Ken and Barbie.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You have no defining—” she blushed furiously and waved her hands about “—parts, Dad.Parts.”
His booming laughter was answered with coyote chatter, their yips and barks carrying across the night breeze from who knew how far away. Wiping away tears, her dad grinned down at her. “Ken and Barbie. Does that make you... What was that teenage kid’s name?”
“Don’t,” she said, smiling. “Don’t even try to remember Skipper’s name, Dad. You’ll ruin childhood memories by renaming her something like Petunia.”
“Fair.” He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Kenzie’s ear. “You never were much for dolls.”
“They weren’t—”
“Horses. I know.” His smile was wistful.
She suddenly felt as if she were five again and the world,herworld, was centered right here on Malone land. Leaning over, she rested her head on her father’s shoulder. “I needed that, Dad. Thanks.”
“What’s going on, baby girl? Talk to me.”
“What makes you so sure anything’s going on?” She was stalling, but she couldn’t help it.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, honey.”
She nodded, fighting the wave of nausea that rose up her throat. “I want to...” Resting a hand on her chest, she forced herself to meet her dad’s open gaze. “I should to talk to you before I see Mom.”
“Sure.” He whistled and Andy reappeared. “Do me a favor and walk Kenzie’s mare out and then put her up.”
“Sure, boss.” Andy moved with bowlegged agility, unloading the horse and moving away with her before Kenzie could summon an effective protest.
Jack Malone turned to her. “So spill.”
She sucked in a breath and held it to a slow count of ten before letting it rush out on a harsh exhale. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to flee, seeming to understand this was a fight she’d never be able to win. Fighting down the urge, she rose, moved to the wooden corral fence and scrambled up to the top rail, where she perched, waiting for him to join her.
Her dad followed, standing in front of her with a suspicious look on his face. Crossing his arms over his chest and widening his stance, he took two deep breaths and schooled his features. “Go on, then.”
If she was going to deal in hard truths, she might as well start with him. She’d spent her whole life trying to please this man, but never more so than over the past decade. Not once had she felt she’d succeeded. What she had to tell him now would irrevocably cement her sense of failure. She’d survived a lot of crap over the years, but she wasn’t sure she could survive this.