thirty
Tarr sat in the corner of his dinette station in the RV. The wood stove filled the small space with plenty of heat, and Tarr had been praying that they’d now made it through the coldest weather they’d have until next winter.
No matter what, his house should be done by then, and Tarr wanted to go by the build site on his way to Briar’s that afternoon. His stomach twisted, because after a couple of appointment postponements and then one cancellation by the doctor, she wasfinallygoing to see the OB-GYN about her suspected fertility issues.
Tarr had once again been trying not to pray for things he couldn’t control and ask for blessings that felt outlandish, focusing instead on something he could change within himself.
Not that he thought praying for such things was bad. Just that, for him, in this moment of time in his life, he wanted to focus inward on his own habits, personality, and behavior. He couldn’t make Briar’s health problems—which she’d suffered from a fall and injuries five years ago—better today simply by praying.
Or maybe he could. After all, Tarr did believe in miracles, and Jesus had raised people from the dead, restored their sight, and cured lifelong ailments.
Briar had admitted she still wasn’t sure if she wanted to have kids at all, and Tarr had been thinking on the issue since she’d told him on New Year’s Eve. He did want kids, but was it a deal-breaker? If his wife didn’t or couldn’t, would they adopt or foster? Or would Briar take the answer as she wasn’t meant to be a mother?
He blinked at the notebook in front of him, trying to clear the worry from his mind. She was at her appointment right now, and he couldn’t change what the doctor was going to say any more than he could make time go backward prevent her fall and injuries. He focused on the list in front of him, which was something he’d been putting together for weeks in preparation for Briar’s birthday.
It was next Thursday, and he’d already talked to Bobbie Jo and Tucker about both of them having the entire day off. He’d said he would call in people to come help with their chores and feeding, but Tucker said he would handle it.
Briar loved breakfast sandwiches, and Tarr wanted to pamper her with breakfast in bed, and he’d scheduled her a pedicure for midmorning. He’d already scouted restaurants near the nail salon for their birthday lunch date. And then, in a bold move, Tarr had scheduled them a couple’s massage at a ritzy hotel and resort only twenty minutes from the farm. He’d asked Briar casually about getting a massage, as it was one of his favorite things to do while riding the circuit.
He liked going to someone who also had some certifications in chiropractic care, and he’d inquired about such a person at the resort. He’d been assured and reassured that it would be fine, and that they would have the couple’s suite ready with thehot sea-salt stones for both him and Briar, and an aromatherapy called Water, which promised “crisp notes with hints of citrus.”
Oh, how he hoped Briar liked citrusy aromatherapy. “She does,” he murmured to himself. Her perfume already gave him that idea, and Tarr had been taking notes on the things Briar had said for months now.
He tapped to open his phone and moved to the note-taking app that he’d colored green, one of her favorite colors. He’d ordered balloons in purple and silver as well, and he’d recruited Bobbie Jo to decorate the cabin before they returned from their couple’s massage. Tarr planned to spend that evening with Briar in her cabin, and he flipped to the page in his notebook to get to the ingredient list that would form his grocery shopping.
He wanted to offer her a choice for her birthday dinner, and he wasn’t sure what she would pick. Briar was a mood eater, and she might not want something heavy after his homemade breakfast sandwiches and then a lunch out.
She loved soups, and he’d put baked potato soup and taco soup on his menu. But another quick glance at his notes told him she’d also made hamburger stew that winter and a delicious chicken-corn chowder as well.
“If I do the stew,” he said, tapping the end of his pen against his notebook, “I could use those heart-shaped molds for cornbread.”
Tarr suspected he was being a little bit extra when it came to Briar’s birthday, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for her. Christmas had been such a success, and now he had a really high bar to meet.
His alarm went off, and Tarr closed his notebook and left it where it sat on the table. He scooted to the end of the bench and stood up. He first moved over to the wood-burning stove and closed the oxygen valve that would kill the fire, as Tarr didn’t dare leave it burning when he wasn’t home.
They had eventually gotten the poles put in and the tarp roof constructed over the outdoor pallets between his RV and Alex’s trailer. Jentzen had fashioned it with clear plastic sheeting used by painters, and it honestly had turned the outdoor area into somewhat of a greenhouse that had helped keep the trailer warmer than Tarr thought possible. As spring approached, Tarr didn’t need to leave the space heater on either. In fact, he moved into the bedroom and turned it off.
He shrugged into his coat and ran into the arena to use the bathroom. He came back out and checked to make sure that the fire was fully snuffed out. Then he got behind the wheel of his truck and headed over to Briar’s. He didn’t think she would be there, nor that her front door would be locked, so he climbed the steps and opened the door for Wiggins, who’d only barked once.
“You’re really off your game today, buddy.”
His favorite friend in the whole world came over to him, his whole body wagging back and forth. Tarr laughed and gave the dog plenty of love before Wiggins trotted down the front steps and started sniffing along the sidewalk. Briar’s cabin faced south, and they hadn’t had a snowstorm in a couple of weeks, so a lot of her snow had receded into the higher piles, leaving the edges of grass and flower beds bare for Wiggins to do his business. Tarr sat on the top step, glad when the dog came to join him, and he simply gazed out at the serene country setting in front of him.
“Thank you, Lord,” he whispered, because Tarr’s life had not been this calm and peaceful since he joined the rodeo circuit fifteen years ago.
He comforted himself as he waited for Briar by stroking his hand absently down Wiggins’s head and neck. By the time Briar pulled into the driveway, the dog practically sat in his lap.
Wiggins barked and leapt away from Tarr, then greeted his owner. Tarr honestly felt the same way, and he forced himself tostay seated on top of the steps as Briar killed the engine of her SUV and got out.
“Hey, you,” she said fondly. “Did Tarr let you out? Did he? Were you keeping him company?”
She disappeared down the other side of the SUV as she bent to pat her dog, and then she straightened and came around the back end of it. Their eyes met, and Tarr’s heart leapt up into the back of his throat. He wasn’t sure if the news would be good or bad, because Briar kept everything caged up behind shutters and walls, and he honestly wondered how she did that.
“Hey,” he said, but he didn’t get up from the steps. “How’d it go?”
She sighed as she reached the bottom of the steps and started to climb. “It was fine,” she said.
“Oh, that doesn’t sound fine, honey.” He rose and took her hand as she reached the porch. “Tell me about it.”
