“Can I open it?” Big, round eyes bored up at me. “Pleeeassee.”
I couldn’t help my smile. I didn’t know how Callan restrained himself from buying her the world. “Go for it.”
In a flash, the door was torn open and Avery was running at her mom and dad. She was gentle as she hugged Sage, then Callan lifted her by the armpits and tossed her in the air before setting her on his hip.
“Did you have fun?” Callan asked, tucking her unruly hair behind her ears.
Avery nodded like she’d somehow found my stash of sugar, and proceeded to ramble on and on about everything we’d done.
Callan listened intently while I waved Sage inside. Cal already knew Parker from our childhood, but Sage and she were complete strangers.
Parker had moved to the kitchen to busy herself, but promptly stopped her wiping of the counter when she saw Sage.
“Parker,” Sage said, flashing a sweet smile.
Parker quickly wiped her hands on her leggings. “Sage.” Unexpected relief coated her tone. “How’s your finger?” She moved to quickly hug Sage, and something about her going right in, past a handshake, had me fighting a smile.
“Doing fine. Just a few stitches, nothing major.” She lifted her finger to show it off after Parker stepped back.
“Thank goodness. I was worried.” Parker’s gaze flicked from her finger to me before settling back on Sage. “We’ll have to get together sometime. Have Beckham give you my number, and we’ll talk.”
“I’d love that,” Sage replied. “Just keep him out of that shell he crawled into for a few months, will you? It’s nice having this Beckham back.” She shot me a wink.
Relief washed over Parker’s face. Whether it was from Sage’s ability to not acknowledge her pregnancy or the prospect of having a friend in this, I wasn’t sure. But I was damn happy to see it, either way.
Sage quickly said her goodbyes and joined Callan and Avery on their walk to the truck. As soon as the door was closed, Parker went back to wiping the counters.
Her silence was deafening.
“What?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Nothing.”
I frowned. “Parker.”
She stopped, leaving her hand on the towel as she faced me. “‘Out of that shell’?”
I sighed. Of course she caught that.
“It’s been hard since I quit rodeo,” I explained.
She stared at me like she was waiting for me to go on, and when I didn’t, she resumed her cleaning. “Okay.”
I wanted to tell her more. Tell herallof it. But it hurt too damn much to even try to speak the words.
I grabbed my keys and left before I could crack, feeling like the biggest piece of shit for not confiding in her.
We used to be that for each other. But that was the kicker, wasn’t it?
Parker and I were in the past.
And this was my reality.
Later that day, the cool breeze drifted through the browning fields ahead of me. I’d forgotten a coat, but I needed the bite of cold to ground me. If it didn’t, I feared I’d end up in my nightmares instead of here, sitting in the grass on my parents’ ranch.
I’d taken one of their horses and led Bucky beside me until we crested the far hill. I needed the distance today—the physical isolation—because mentally, I was suffocating.
Both horses grazed beside me while I watched the sun inch closer to the horizon with every inhale.
