Tag, always hyper aware of potential danger, nodded. “I agree. Even if she could find a willin’ driver, we’re so remote out here, I don’t think that’s safe.”
I chimed in. “I can get them.” This was an opportunity if I ever saw one. I could use a long, quiet drive away from all the matrimonial bliss. If I stayed, I’d be forced to trail ride and small talk with all thehappy couples. An airport pick-up sounded like vacation comparatively. “I seriously don’t mind.”
Bea’s eyes bounced between Tag and me. “Dad offered to go but he was looking forward to riding, too.”
Bea had been chomping at the bit for this precious sliver of time with her family. After traveling so far, none of them should have to miss any of the festivities. “It’s settled then. I’ll go.”
Bea stepped closer and gently squeezed my forearm. “Thank you.”
“Of course. You two shouldn’t be stressing. What time do I need to leave?”
Bea fumbled with her phone for a moment. “Her flight is set to land in San Antonio at 3:30. So you’ll be back with plenty of time to get ready for the rehearsal. I’m sending you her phone number.”
My phone buzzed in my back pocket.
I pulled it out and looked at the time. 12:35 p.m. “Alright. I’ll go figure out the status with the trail horses and help saddle them up.”
“Thanks, man.”
I sauntered back up to the porch and approached the back of Cade’s chair. As always, I would encourage him to stay behind—go on the trail ride and keep Kacey company. But his thigh bounced beneath the table. No matter how much I craved a few minutes alone, my son wouldn’t let me leave the ranch without him.
Funny, I had one of the most capable kids in all the world, but he was dead set and determined to never leave my side. When I’d asked my therapist if I should be concerned about that, he said,“Kids who have lost, cling. Just let him cling. He’ll stop when he’s ready.”
I tapped on Cade’s shoulder. “I’m gonna round up horses then pick someone up from the airport. You wanna go or stay with Kacey?”
He didn’t skip a beat. “Go.”
“Alright then. Come on.”
Pulling up to San Antonio International Airport, my hands fidgeted on the steering wheel. Every part of my being dreaded the coming pleasantries with Hollie and her daughters. As a rule of thumb, I likedmeeting new people. But right now, I wasn’t excited for small talk. I wasn’t excited for anything.
I didn’t want anyone to need me, fetch me, or call on me. My tank inched closer to fumes the longer the day dragged on. Usually, Cade kept pretty quiet, but even he was tapping my resources, chatting nonstop around a wad of Pro Chew gum stuck in his cheek. He popped it as he talked every so often and an artificial grape scent overpowered the leather air freshener hanging over the rearview mirror.
My mind wandered as he filled me in on a 4H calf competition.
Escaping this weekend was impossible. Every second was going to hurt no matter which way I sliced it. My chest would bleed until the light chased away my memories again.
I drove up the pick up lane, easing my boot onto the brake.
Smack, smack.“I think that’s them.” Cade pointed out the window at a trio of matching pink and brown. Two little girls stood by a bench with magenta pink jumpsuits and chocolate braided hair. You’d think they were twins, except for size.
The woman had dark wavy hair cascading down her back, a cream blouse, and pink denim-clad legs. One glance proved she was a Thompson. Bea couldn’t deny her siblings—they all shared features. Dark eyes, dark hair, high cheekbones, slim shoulders.
Her eyes scanned the traffic until they landed on the Meadowbrook Ranch etched alongside the passenger’s door. A smile lighted her features as she waved. The little girls started bouncing up and down and the smaller one twirled circles so quickly her braids flew out like helicopter blades. Despite my bad attitude, a smile pulled into my unwilling cheeks.
I threw the gear stick into park. “Let’s help them load up their stuff.”
Pop.“Yessir.”
Cade put his hand on the door handle before I stopped him. “Son.”
His eyes darted to mine.
I nodded toward the trash can by the sliding airport doors. “Throw that out so they don’t have to listen to you smack.”
“Oh. I’m smacking?”
“Chomping, more like.”
