Beckham reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out the flimsy paper he’d written so many thoughts on. The creases were nearly holes from the number of times he’d folded it, the structure barely holding together after all the time spent in his pocket.
He exhaled, staring at the note in his hand. But instead of unfolding it and reading the unspoken words, he knelt and dug a little hole in the dirt with his fingers. He crumpled the paper into a small ball, then stuffed it inside the hole. He hesitated, gaze stuck on the paper, before lightly covering it with the discarded dirt.
Then he stood, coming back to my side and wrapping an arm around my waist. He looked down at me, and I gave a small nod of encouragement.
With a heavy swallow, he turned his gaze to the setting sun.
“It’s me again.” Beckham rolled his lips into a thin line, like he was trying to hold it together, and I leaned into him a little more to let him know I was here.
“I have a baby now.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “Crazy, right? Who would have thought I’d be a father? ’Cause I sure as hell thought all bets on that were off.” He looked down at me, so many emotions floating in his eyes. “But even though you never met her,you always knew she was the one for me.” His focus turned back to the horizon. “You always told me the universe worked in funny ways, and that everything happened for a reason. Though you had a hard time backing that up when you snapped your wrist and couldn’t ride for months. But that’s neither here nor there.” His mouth quirked into a small smile.
“I’ve been hard on myself for a long time. Gone over a million different ways I might have been able to save you. But like you said, things happen for a reason, yeah? I didn’t want to think of any positives for who knows how long. But I always kept coming back to that. And I got to thinking, maybe I can hate the process, but your stubborn ass got me here. You led me back to her. I came home because of you. Went to the second funeral in my damn life because of you, and while I wish I could say I still hadn’t attended a single one, I can’t hate what came out in the end. So…”
Beckham turned to me, and I transferred our son into his arms. I nuzzled into his side, arms wrapped around his torso, as he faced the sunset once more.
“Garrett Swan, meet Garrett Beau Bronson.”
Tears slid down my cheeks, the droplets both happy and sad. At the same time, Beckham sniffled, and I knew he was feeling the same.
He confided in me that when his best friend passed, the hardest part was coming to terms with the fact that there would never be new memories. I was adamant that that wouldn’t be the case. So I promised him every birthday in this field. Every Christmas,every new baby. We’d visit here for however long he wanted to tell his best friend about all of it.
Garrett was still a part of every moment in Beckham’s life. I saw it in the way the breeze brushed our tearstained cheeks, and in how the singular cloud in the sky touched the sun at that moment.
“I already know he’s going to be so much like you and me. Causing havoc and loving every second of it. And your mom loves him.” Beckham smiled, and I noticed a tear had stained Garrett’s onesie. “She wanted me to tell you that.”
Then he looked down at our son, and I looked up at him. He shifted Garrett so he was more comfortable in his other arm, and wrapped his opposite around me.
“It’s a good life, Garrett. I can’t wait to tell you all about it when I see you again.”
40
BECKHAM
BONUS EPILOGUE - FOURTH OF JULY
“When he starts sitting, can he ride a horse?” Avery asked from her seat beside me at the—now extra long—table on my mom’s porch. She’d had to buy not only a bigger size but two of them to fit all us Bronsons.
Avery had been asking questions nonstop, but I didn’t blame her. If I was her age and had two babies around me, I’d be curious as ever.
“With one of us? Maybe. But it might be a year or two until he’s holdin’ the reins on his own,” I told her. I’d already held Garrett a time or two on the back of Tex, but I wouldn’t lie and pretend the thought of anything happening to him hadn’t made me nervous.
He was in good hands, though. Especially where he was right now: cradled in the crook of my mom’s arm, fast asleep, while she ate her meal. My dad sat beside her, arm around her shoulders and a thumb stroking herexposed skin. I’d never seen that man smile as much as he did at the babies in this family, like through his kids and grandkids, he was learning how to be better every day.
Avery stuffed a big helping of mashed potatoes in her mouth. “Can I teach him?”
“Of course. I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”
Her eyes lit up, and she hadn’t even swallowed her food before she shot off her chair and ran around the table to her mom. Sage was nursing their beautiful three-month-old daughter, Rosemary, while Callan fed her pieces of chicken on his fork. With Avery’s arrival, Sage turned her attention to her oldest daughter, listening to every squeal with a huge smile.
Rosemary had the cutest dirty-blonde curls, thanks to Callan, and got her big eyes from her mom. Meanwhile, Garrett got everything courtesy of Parker, as far as I was concerned.
I never got tired of staring at them.
Every morning, while Parker nursed our baby, I’d sit there in awe, unable to comprehend how this was my life.
I got the girl. The baby. Everything else was simply in the background, as my universe revolved around my little family.
A hand rested on my thigh. “Everything okay?”
