Guest Post: Becca Dale w/giveaway

How Tough is Too Tough?

Is there such a thing as too tough and if so at what point does an Alpha cross the line and become a jerk? I had to ask myself this repeatedly as I wrote Untamable because I have spent my life surrounded by men who do not express their feelings, especially in public. The cowboys and farmers that I know tend to play their cards close to the chest. Those of us who love them must often find a way to understand without the words. Growing up, I learned quickly that my father’s laughter, always present after some stupid or dangerous event, spoke more of his relief that I was all right than of any humor at my expense.

There is a quiet patience, a cocky defensiveness, perhaps even a blatant arrogance to such men as my father, my husband, and frankly the majority of the guys who live and work more with animals and machinery than humans. A horse or a fine cattle dog understands that a pat means good job or I’m proud of you. Cattle and sheep only care that the man in the tractor cab braves the cold to auger feed upon the frozen ground or shepherds them to shelter from the wind and snow. These are the creatures such men as Thor understand. Women are foreign beasts to some extent. As a cattleman would have to learn about raising an ostrich, so must such men be taught to communicate with women or their women need to listen for the love expressed through action.



I was a teen the first time my father actually told me that he loved me. I had known it all my life but had never heard the words. However, with careful nurturing of his growing abilities, this same man shook my darling husband’s hand after he graduated from college and said, “I could not be prouder of you if you were my own son.” At that moment I wept and they looked at me like I had lost it. Dad grinned and patted my shoulder awkwardly, and hubby pulled me close for a quick hug before asking where we were going to eat. The moment meant so much to both of them but neither would say more.



When our children were born, I insisted that they never have to read the clues, that they would both always know that their father loves them without question. My husband rose to the occasion with class and style despite the fact that he has never heard such words from his own dad. A day does not pass that he does not verbally remind me that he loves me. But the skills of my childhood remain strong. His feelings radiate in actions like putting gas in the car so I won’t get stranded somewhere since I am usually running late, or his quiet, indulgent smile as he stands with a shovel in his hand and some strange plant at his feet and asks, “Where do you want me to dig?”

For some men, saying they care is easy and their wives see and hear it daily. Such men tear up as their bride walks toward them or as the doctor hands over their first born child. I have seen my husband and father cry so rarely in my life that the few times are etched indelibly into my heart. The dark hallway at two in the morning when the vet called to say that Dad’s favorite cattle dog had begun to hemorrhage and would need to be put down. My great uncle funeral. My mother-in-law’s deathbed. That’s it folks. No tears at weddings or births or most gravesites even. Life and death are to be accepted and dealt with. Tears solve nothing – emotions are private things.

Untamable represents both the challenges and rewards of loving such a man. So what do you think? Do you prefer a hero who demonstrates his feelings or one who expresses them aloud with ease? Is there such a thing as too tough or once the façade cracks and the truth shines, are you like Lily and in love with the man you wanted to smack? Share your preference. One commenter will win a copy of Untamable or another book from my back list.

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