When we pull up to the house, Caleb stirs. He blinks at the sunlight streaming through the windshield, his brows knitting together.
“Where’s Sutton’s truck?” he asks, his voice groggy.
“She’s checking on her dad. I told her I wanted to do this with you alone.”
I kill the engine and step out of the truck. By the time I round the hood to help him out, he’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Dad,” he presses, “I heard the two of you talking. I thought everything is okay.”
I ignore him, focusing on getting his crutches from the backseat. “Let’s get you inside,” I say instead.
He doesn’t budge. “Dad?”
“Everything is okay. I just…I wanted to make sure you were okay with Sutton moving in with us and…”
“Are you crazy?” He gasps. “Of course, I’m okay with it. I already told you this. I hope you marry her.”
“This is different than you telling me she’s a good woman. This is a big change that affects you, too.”
“I’m okay with it.”
“Are you sure? You’re on pain meds…
“Dad, is this a joke?” he deadpans. “Of course, I’m okay with it.”
He finally takes the crutches, his movements slow and deliberate as he gets out of the truck.
Inside the house, Mom’s waiting in the kitchen, her face lighting up when she sees Caleb. “There’s my boy,” she says warmly, pulling him into a careful hug. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got run over by a truck,” he jokes.
Mom fusses over him, making sure he’s comfortable on the couch, bringing him a glass of water and a blanket. I retreat to the corner of the room, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. Caleb’s watching me.
“I’m not going to break, Dad. I want Sutton to move in. I’m okay with it,” he says. “I’ll call and tell her myself if that helps.”
“You just rest,” I say with a laugh and a shake of my head.
I walk out of the house and start out toward the barn. I stop and lean against the tailgate of Dad’s truck, staring out at the field as the sun dips low on the horizon. It’s quiet, except for the soft rustling of the wind through the trees and the occasional chirp of a bird. Usually, this kind of evening would calm me, but tonight, it’s doing the opposite. My chest feels tight, and my head’s spinning with thoughts I can’t seem to untangle.
Dad comes up next to me, leans on the tailgate, sipping on a cold beer, his face relaxed like it always is. He’s got that way about him, steady as a rock, even when the world feels like it’s falling apart. I envy that sometimes. Right now, I’m anything but steady.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he says, breaking the silence. “That’s usually my thing.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
He doesn’t push, just nods, and waits. That’s one thing about Dad. He’s patient. He’ll sit here all night if he has to, waiting for me to spit it out. Eventually, I do.
“It’s Caleb,” I start, my voice low. “And Sutton. I just… I’m worried I’m rushing things. With her, I mean. Caleb’s been through so much lately, and now I’m dropping this wholerelationship in his lap, like, ‘Hey, here’s someone new to care about.’ What if it’s too much for him?”
Dad takes a long sip of his beer, then sets the bottle on the tailgate beside him. He turns to face me, leaning one elbow on the truck. “You’re not dropping anything on him, Wade. You’re giving him something. Someone. Sutton’s good for you, and she’s good for him, too. Don’t let your fear twist that.”
I scrub a hand over my face, sighing. “It’s not just fear. It’s responsibility, Dad. I’ve got to think about what’s best for Caleb. He’s been through hell the last few days. The attack, the hospital… it’s a lot. And now I’m over here trying to figure out how to fit Sutton into all of that. I…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I love her. I do. But what if it’s too much?”
I’ve been so steady, so certain all this time, but why am I not right now? When things are happening and I’ve said I love you, why am I backtracking?
Dad chuckles softly, the kind of laugh that’s more knowing than amused. “You’re scared because it’s all real now.”
I glance at him, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
