Prologue
5th April
I wonder how many other men have stood on a ridge like this—glaring at a patch of soil like it was the devil, but at the same time wanting to be swallowed by it.
No doubt Dad did when Mom was laid to rest. Torn between living and rotting in grief .?.?. and joining her in the quiet ground.
“Hey.” My brother Wilder nudges me gently with his shoulder, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. I’m conscious again—but just barely—still staring at the dirt being smoothed over where Millie’s casket rests.
I barely blink. Heck, I’m not even sure I’m breathing. Doesn’t seem fair that Igetto.
But I’ll take a damn fucking breath if it means my brother will leave me alone. I inhale and release slowly, keeping my eyes on the roses tossed over the damn dirt.
“I’m good. You go on with the others.”
Wilder glances back. “If by ‘the others’ you mean Dad, Silas, and Ginger, they’re behind us.”
Maybe if I stand here long enough, focus real hard—I’ll wake up.
And my fiancé will still be alive.
“Come on,” he presses, voice as tender as he can manage. “We’re going to my house. Think it’s best you stay with me for a few weeks.”
Waking up .?.?. any minute now.
“Dallas. It’s going to start coming down hard soon.”
I’d say.Heavy, too.Everything feels hard, heavy and .?.?. hollow.
Thunder rolls in the distance and a moment later, I feel a hand on my shoulder from behind. It’s a strong, familiar grip. “Son. It’s time,” Dad says, his voice rough with a hint of sorrow.
What is theirproblem?
They’re not wrong. I’ve been standing here a while. But how do I walk away? I don’t trust myself to move without my knees giving out under me.
“Go,” I mutter. “If I’m going to fall, I’d rather there be no one here to see it.”
After a beat, I hear one set of footsteps fade. And I’ve got a good idea which one remained. As if to confirm it, he squeezes my shoulder. Another pang of pain hits my chest. Dad knows how I feel. Probably felt it harder. He had nearly a lifetime with Mom.
“You’re not going to fall. And if you are, we’ll pick you up. Carry you, if need be. I know what you’re feeling, son. But I’ll tell ya from experience, staring at a pile of dirt ain’t bringing her back.”
I roll my shoulders back, brush him off, and step to where I’d buried the woman I planned to spend my life with.
“Goodbye, Mil.” I drop my rose and look up at the darkening clouds. “Rest in peace, my love.”
It’s a short drive back to the ranch, and I’m still dragging my feet as I follow Wilder into the main house.
“I don’t need to stay with you,” I lie to my brother. Because I probably should. The house by the river isn’t even close to the finish line and there’s no way I’m staying at Millie’s cottage.
Wilder nods. “I know you don’t. I want you to. I’m going to take care of things at the ranch. You take all the time you need.”
“The house. I need to finish the house,” I say, standing and pacing as if my toolbox is lying around here somewhere.
I should have finished it weeks ago, but the ranch had to come first. Keeping our stock healthy, the cabins full, and the grounds in good shape.
Millie always did joke that she wouldn’t live to see the house finished. Seems unfair to focus on getting it done now.
Still—it’s what she wanted.
