Stetson yawned and glanced over at the clock. 6:26 a.m. He bolted upright.

"How did I manage to sleep in so late?" he muttered aloud as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. After he finished dressing, he unplugged his phone from where it was charging on the nightstand and shoved it in his back pocket. He didn't know what the plans were for the day but what he did know is that he was late. And he despised being late to anything.

When he walked into the dining room, his mom and dad were finishing breakfast. He scanned the room but didn't see Shay.

"Mornin', momma. Mornin', daddy. Have either of you seen Shay?" he asked. They glanced in his direction. His mother nodded and finished swallowing before she answered.

"She was still sleeping when I checked on her 'bout fifteen minutes ago." He huffed.

"That was me fifteen minutes ago too. I haven't slept that long since I was..." he thought for a minute. "I don't even know." His mother sent him a warm smile.

"It's alright, Stet. Your daddy was just talkin' about taking you to the auction up in Sulphur Springs. I figured I would keep Shay with me." He hesitated. Shay was mad enough about his perpetual absence and he was sure this wouldn't help. But then again, since when did his father ask him to go anywhere with him.

"You got anything particular in mind or are you just browsing?" Stetson asked.

"I figured I'd see if they had a seeder for Kyle's tractor. He was talking about looking for an older model since he's determined to show Trent that older equipment works just as well as newer stuff." Stetson smiled. Trent had been best friends with Kyle since their freshman year in high school. He was honestly glad to hear that they were still friends.

"I'm not sure if I can go or not." he said. Both of his parents looked at him in surprise.

"You've got other plans?" his father asked as his mother grabbed a spare coffee cup, filled it, and urged him to sit down. He plopped down into the seat and stared at the near-black coffee still swirling in his mug.

"I don't feel like I've been doing a very good job of being a father." Neither of his parents made a comment to his brief statement so he continued. "Shay was pretty upset with me last night for being away so much. I don't know how to keep her happy anymore." He leaned his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. Defeated. He felt completely and absolutely defeated. He managed to repair one part of his life and another started failing.

"You know," his father cleared his throat, "a man wasn't made to raise kids alone, Stetson. It's hard tellin' how you boys would've turned out if I hadn't had your momma to help me out." Stetson thought of his father's words. Then he glanced up. At some point, his mother had managed to slip noiselessly out of the room.

"I don't know how to fix that." Stetson said. Hank nodded.

"Generally starts by meeting a gal you like and lettin' her know how you feel about her." Hank prompted with a smile. Stetson laughed bitterly.

"That's never worked out well for me, dad." The older man nodded once again.

"What about Heather?" Hank asked.

"What about her?" Stetson returned.

"I just thought that maybe you and her seemed to be getting along pretty well. Figured maybe you were starting to feel more than friendly toward her." Hank said. Awe man! I don't want to tell him. He sighed. Maybe he should. After all, his father clearly knew how to catch a good woman. The thought made him smile.

"I went and talked to her the other day. I don't think she feels the same way I do." Hank made a show of rolling his eyes-something Stetson had never seen him do. He almost laughed at the sight. "She straight-up told me she thought I was lonely and looking for help with Shay."

"Aren't you?" The sensible question repulsed him.

"Well, sure. But that wouldn't be the only reason I would marry her." Stetson said.

"Well then, why would you?" Hank asked. Is that what everyone thinks?

"She's smart, she's kind, a good mother. She is respectful. Not too citified." Stetson counted off the points on his fingers.

"Not to mention good-lookin'?" Hank threw in. Stetson stuttered for a brief minute.

"W-well. I mean. Sure. I think she's a nice lookin' gal." His dad shot him a look that suggested he was telling a half-truth. "Alright fine. I think she's very beautiful. But Lisa was too. And look how she turned out."

"I never met her." Hank stated. Stetson huffed.

"Heaven's mercy to you for certain. She would have irritated the heck out of you." Stetson said. He forced unpleasant memories from his mind. His father once again gave a short nod as if he didn't doubt Stetson's assessment.

"What did you tell Heather?" Hank asked after a minute or so of silence.

"I can't remember. I just remember her rejection and that stung like a mad hornet." He hated the very memory of it.

"Pride." Hank said. The assessment irked him.

"Wisdom." Stetson shot back.

"Fear." Hank continued. Stetson felt his temper start to simmer.

"I'm not a coward, dad." he said bitterly.

"You can't stand being rejected, son. It's the simple truth of it. You hate it when not everyone loves you." He couldn't deny his father's words even though they rubbed him wrong.

"So what? Who doesn't want acceptance?" Stetson asked.

"Everybody wants it, son. But only weak people need it." Stetson stood up too quickly and knocked his chair over. His father stood slowly and managed to pin him with a no-nonsense stare.

"I am anything but weak. Strength doesn't come from never failing. It comes from never quitting. And I've had a whole lot thrown at me in life, but I've yet to stop trying." Stetson fumed. Rage pooled in his veins and he worked to control his temper. His father simply stared at him.

"Are you coming with me or not?" Hank eventually asked after an intense interlude. Stetson was honestly surprised his father even bothered asking. He figured the offer had flown out the window at the onset of the fight.

"I'll let you know in a minute." Stetson replied. He walked back to Shay's room where he found his mother braiding Shay's hair. The scene warmed his icy feelings slightly. What his mother never got to experience with daughters, she was getting with Shay. And he was glad for it. He walked into the room and stood behind Shay's wheelchair. She looked up and saw him in the mirror. She smiled.

"Good morning, daddy." she said softly. He melted a little.

"Good mornin', baby girl. Did you sleep well?" She nodded once and then remembered her grandmother was braiding her hair.

"I have a question for you." he said. She looked at him expectantly. "Your granddaddy asked me to go to an auction with him. But if you'd rather me stay...I can do that too." She watched him before glancing down.

"You should go with pawpaw." Her voice sounded certain but sad.

"Why?" he asked.

"Cause you need your daddy too." He felt his heart splinter into a thousand pieces like a weak arrow. He was holding back a rebellious tear—fully prepared to protest her argument—but his mother sent him a sharp look. At his questioning gaze, she led him out into the hall.

"I didn't say a word to her about this, Stetson. She must have heard you two talking. I think you need to go." Jill insisted. He glanced down the hall, mentally seeing his father sitting at the large oak table finishing off his coffee and waiting for him to decide whether he would go or not. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. The decision wasn't an easy one.

"I don't want her to feel like I always have." Stetson said.

"But she's making the choice. Not you. Had your daddy asked if you wanted to spend time with him, you might have felt differently about the situation." He rolled her words over in his mind for a few minutes—still uncertain as to whether he should go or stay.

"Let me talk to her for a minute." he said decisively. His mother nodded and he walked back into the room. Shay was in the same spot in her wheelchair. She glanced up from her lap when one of the floorboards creaked under his weight.

"Shay, can I tell you somethin'?" he asked.

"Sure." Her pretty blue eyes were full of uncertainty, doubt, mistrust, and anger. A proverbial hurricane brought on by the events of the past few months. The joy that once shown in them had dimmed significantly. It broke his heart to see it now, just knowing what it had been like before the wreck.

"When I was your age, my daddy spent a lot of time away from the house working. And it made me feel kinda left out." She watched him as he continued. "When you were angry with me the other night, it made me realize that I've kinda been actin' a lot like my daddy did. And when I got bigger, I wasn't very close to him. I didn't think he cared about me all that much. I don't ever want you to feel that way, darlin'. You are the most important person in the world to me and I don't ever want to do something that will make you feel the way I felt."

"I want you to go with pawpaw, daddy. I want you to feel loved too." This time he couldn't fight the tears. He sniffed and wiped one off his cheek.

"Honey," He did his best to strengthen his voice but it still shook. "I don't need love from-"

"Yes, you do!" Her shout wasn't angry but it was forceful and it startled him. "You need to go with pawpaw. I want you to." She softened her voice. "Please, daddy." He couldn't understand how she had grasped the trait of selflessness at such a young age. He was still figuring it out himself. How could his six-year-old daughter already have it mastered?

"Are you sure, Shay? Cause I'm certain I would enjoy hangin' out with you just as much as I would going with your granddaddy. If not more." He whispered the last part as if it was a great secret. She smiled—a true and bona-fide grin—and it was impossible not to smile back.

"I'm sure, daddy. But," she held up her pointer finger, "I want a bedtime story. And I need a hug before you leave." He chuckled.

"I think I can accommodate that, little princess." She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. He returned the hug which ended up lasting a straight two minutes. When she pulled away, he instantly missed it.

"I love you, daddy." she said.

"I love you too, angel. Be good for your grandma, okay?" he said.

"Okay! Have fun!" she said.

"Yes, Miss Dalton." She giggled at the new nickname as he walked out. He found his mother clearing dishes from the table.

"Your pa's out in the barn giving orders before he leaves." Jill said.

"Keep an eye out for my Shay?" He asked it though he knew she would.

"Of course. Make sure your daddy doesn't spend too much. You know how he likes auctions." Jill said, shaking her head.

"Are you sure he's the one you should be concerned about?" Stetson asked. He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. He threw her a wink. "It's probably a good thing I'm practically broke. We might need a couple trailers." After mumbling something under her breath about the dangers of men around tools, she shooed him out of her kitchen-or "her domain" as she called it. He kissed her cheek and moseyed out to his truck. He drove down to the barn and parked by dad's dually. He wasn't anywhere in sight. Huh. Must still be giving orders. He walked into the barn where he found Hank talking to one of the new hands. Charlie was his name if he remembered right. Just a drifter going from ranch to ranch looking for jobs.

In short, he was the stereotypical cowboy from the movies. Bow-legged, gruff, and stubborn as all get out.

"I can do that, boss. You want 'em all moved or just the older ones?" He heard more of their conversation as he got closer.

"Why don't you leave the first-timers in the lower pasture since it's closer to the barns here. So we can make sure nothing goes haywire. You can move the rest of 'em up to those other pastures. There's still some forage there for them to eat down before we get snow." What snow? Stetson thought with a grin.

"Yessir. Anything else?" Charlie asked.

"Nope. Well, actually. Tell Kyle to take it easy on Legend when y'all are movin' those cows up Greenhorn Hill. I don't want him gettin' cocky and spoilin' a good gelding." Charlie nodded once more and set off to fulfill his duties.

"Legend ain't ready for Greenhorn. He has too much energy." Hank turned at Stetson's comment.

"Your brother knows what he's doin'." Hank said. Stetson ignored the statement. Kyle was comparable to Mr. Incredible in the world of horses but no man was invincible. And if you take a green horse on a rocky slope, you're no longer considered brave. That's when stupidity kicks in.

"I decided to go." Stetson said.

"Alright then, let's go load up." Hank said.

"You hitchin' the trailer first?" Stetson asked.

"Nope, I'll send Austin to pick the stuff up if we get anything." I guess that works. The gas mileage on his dually was bad enough without the extra weight of a trailer. No sense in wasting money.

"Whatever you say. You're the boss." Stetson said.

"Thata boy!" His father applauded with a teasing grin. "You're gettin' the hang of it." He shook his head and smirked. Just as they were about to get in, he had a thought.

"Do you want to take grandpa's truck?" Stetson asked.

"Do you?" Hank asked.

"I don't know. Do you?" Stetson asked again with a chuckle. His father turned around and looked at the little truck.

"Why not? I haven't ridden in that thing for years." Hank said. Stetson shut the truck door and walked around the driver's side of the smaller truck. They both got in and he started it up and shifted into reverse. Once they were on the road, he could sense the awkwardness from the lack of conversation.

"This is the truck you learned on, right, dad?" he asked.

"Yeah. This one and the '71 Dodge daddy had." Hank answered

"Which one did you like better?" Stetson asked, trying his best to continue the conversation.

"The dodge. The clutch on this one has always been a beast. No matter how many times we've replaced it." Stetson wholeheartedly agreed. He'd killed the truck many times over before he got the hang of it.

Silence once again reigned supreme. He didn't want to seem like a chatter-box so he decided to remain quiet. After ten minutes of driving, his father cleared his throat.

"I overheard you talking to Shay when I went back to see if you were gonna come along." He waited for Hank to elaborate, knowing that he would. "You really meant everything you told her, didn't you?" Hank asked. Stetson blew out a breath.

"Yes, sir." Another three minutes or so of silence followed Stetson's simple answer.

"Do you-do you still feel that way?" his father questioned. He heard his father's hesitation and never before had he wanted to lie to his dad so badly. Not even when he had gotten in a wreck with Tommy Lager—one of his crazier high school buddies.

Sure, he wanted his dad to know the pain his detached mode of life had caused his youngest son. But at the same time, he didn't want his father to live with guilt from it. Would he? Stetson honestly didn't know. But if there was even a chance of it, he didn't want to tell the truth. His bitterness had vanished for the time being. He honestly hoped it would stay that way. "I guess your silence means yes?" Hank said more than asked.

"I'm thinking." Stetson defended.

"You do that a lot, son." Hank commented.

"No more than you." Hank couldn't contest the truth of Stetson's reply so he chose not to reply to it.

"You can be honest with me, Stetson. The truth has yet to kill me." Stetson laughed.

"It's gonna take somethin' more powerful that truth to kill you, dad. You've got grandpa's blood in your veins." They were both laughing—something he wasn't sure had ever occurred in his lifetime—and it felt wonderful. But he was gonna have to kill the mood to be honest. And he wasn't sure if he was ready for that quite yet.

After a few more miles of blacktop on TX-154, they got to the auction outside Sulphur Springs. It was out in the roadside pasture at the Densley Farm right off of Launchpad Lane. Tanner Densley was from a long-time ranching and construction family and anybody within a hundred miles of Sulphur Springs knew him or at least knew of him. The Dalton family was in the latter category and Stetson was looking forward to meeting him face-to-face. They parked and got out—Hank's question was left to lie for a while but Stetson knew he could only avoid it for so long. A few hours at the most. But while he could avoid it, he would. Because his only options were unpleasant—lie or be honest. And neither of those appealed to him in the least.