“The fourth- and fifth-grade music programs are this week. I usually help, and now I’m on the hook because their students wanted to do skits at the last minute.”
“They guilt-tripped you?” I asked lightly.
“You could say that. Scarlett and Joseph aren’t upset, but I said I’d help. Joseph would help anyway, but since he helped me, I owe him.” She hooked my hand andthreaded her fingers through mine. “I’ll miss you being a cowboy, but you have to promise me something.”
Sitting with her, across from the place my mom had died and where my dad must still stop by and pay his respects, I was ready to promise her the world.
“If Mama offers to cook for everyone tomorrow night, you need to stay and then bring a plate home for me.”
“How do you know I’ll be invited?”
“She’ll make sure you’re there. In her eyes, you’re family.”
My heart constricted and pain radiated out from my ribs. I wasn’t family. I only had Dad and he’d never been there.
But he had tried . . .
I shook the thought off. He wanted to foster a relationship and I wanted him to get his head out of his ass. The Baileys were my in-laws for only another couple of weeks.
My gaze landed on that white cross and the flowers that weren’t very old. A tangle of emotions swelled in my chest. Dad had never talked about Mom after she’d died, and I didn’t speak with him enough to know if he did now. My grandparents had been gone for years. Dad was the only one who knew where Mom had died and would care enough to maintain the cross and flowers.
Was Autumn right? Was this sale a way for him to purge the grief he’d been hanging on to? Those emotions that had driven him to drink? He had AA, but then, after every meeting, he went home to an empty house that used to be filled with love and family.
He’d promised Mom ’til death do you part. Afterthat, he’d had nothing to hang on to. I hadn’t been enough then, and I wasn’t sticking around now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Gideon
Yesterday, I’d gone to the tractor supply store and picked up thick work gloves and a cowboy hat. I was wearing everything I’d bought to the Baileys.
This morning, the light hadn’t yet crested the horizon when I’d coasted down the Baileys’ drive. Scarlett had said she’d pick up Autumn for work and give her a ride home. I’d been half tempted to buy a pickup yesterday so Autumn wouldn’t have to beg rides, but she’d shut me down. I’d been telling myself for nearly two weeks that I should buy a vehicle to make it easier on us.
What are you going to do with a pickup in Vegas?
I had no answer to that question. I could sell it. Hell, I could give it to Autumn as a parting gift.Here’re divorce papers and a new truck for your time.
The idea rested like lead in my gut. Maybe if I knewwhether Dad would pull back at the last minute, I’d have a more optimistic response.
I parked by the house like Autumn had told me to do and walked down to the barn. The crisp, cold scent in the air propelled me back to an earlier time when I was saddling the horses to move our own cattle. When I was younger, I had been stitched to Dad’s side. By the time I’d been a teen, I had been running the show. Dad would pretend he was in charge, but I would have everything ready. Unlike the Baileys’ property, ours wasn’t big enough to require overnight cattle drives. Mom and Dad had made a long day of it, and I’d loved each moment.
Part of that joy rose up from a long-locked-up memory. I had loved long days working with cattle as much as I had loved harvesting from sunup to sundown. Sometimes, I’d been alone in my own head, but then afterward, I’d join in the chatter with my parents. What went well? What could we do better? What needed fixing? I’d feel like a grown-up, and when I’d talk with my grandfather afterward, he’d beam and nod.
Farming’s in your blood. The outdoors is in your blood. Trust your gut.
Later, before I graduated high school, he’d said similar things.This place is yours. You know your dad won’t do what needs to be done. He’s going to run Percival into the ground. My father scraped his pennies together and bought that land after everything had been taken from him and his family. Don’t let your dad take this from you. Start by scrapingyourpennies together.
My grandfather’s voice was echoing louder than it had in years. Those memories were why I was here today. If Dad heard about what I was doing today, he’d know I wasn’t some city asshole who wanted to claim atax deduction and walk over the locals. I was a local, goddammit.
Tate and Teller were loading horses into the silver horse trailer attached to Tate’s pickup. Tenor was tossing coolers into the back seat. Pails and Rubbermaid bins were piled by the front of the horse trailer.
The wind buffeted my face. A few flurries fell from the sky.
Myles appeared next to me. “I guess it could be colder.”
I almost didn’t recognize him with the tan cowboy hat on, and I hadn’t even noticed him following me. I looked back. Wynter was dressed in jeans and boots, a beat-up tan jacket zipped to her chin. Her own black cowboy hat was pulled down low and her blond braid was tucked into the collar of her coat.
“Got the baby here too?” I asked.
